My Married Roommate Asked Me to Give Her a Baby

After five or six minutes, the crowd reached the unfinished lot behind the school.

When everyone spread out, Evan glanced back.

Good grief.

People really did love watching trouble.

Several students had climbed into a crooked tree. The low wall nearby was lined with spectators. A few more crouched on a dirt mound. Most ridiculous of all, one guy had lifted his girlfriend onto his shoulders so she could get a better view.

Then came the threat exchange stage.

Mason pointed arrogantly at Evan's nose.

"Kid, I don't want to bully you with numbers."

"Call me daddy twice, crawl between my legs, and go buy a few packs of good cigarettes for the brothers. This ends here."

"Today we're only dealing with that bitch."

"If you insist on interfering, don't blame me for being rough."

Evan had not even answered when Wayne jumped out first.

"Rough your mother."

"What kind of thing are you?"

"If you want to touch my big brother and our future boss lady, step over my corpse first."

Evan looked at Wayne in confusion.

Wait.

Who the hell was this future boss lady?

Was this fat man sick?

Wendy's face went red the moment she heard that. She had acted shamelessly in the classroom because she had no other choice, but thinking that everyone would now assume she was Evan's girlfriend still made her embarrassed.

"So there's no talking, then," Mason cursed.

"Brothers, go. Smash him."

Behind Mason stood a tall follower, about six foot one, built broad and heavy. His shoulders looked strong, but his eyes were strangely clear in that empty way, like his mind was a few steps behind his body.

"Tank, get him."

In Mason's mind, this big guy alone was enough to deal with Evan and Wayne.

"Mason, buy me chicken later," Tank said, wiping the corner of his mouth.

"Fine. Big chicken leg and an iced tea," Mason promised.

The moment Tank heard there would be food, his spirit rose. He charged like a bull, throwing a fist the size of a sandbag directly at Evan's face.

Evan did not dodge.

Instead, he stepped straight into it and punched back.

Yes.

Pure exchange.

No tricks.

People who knew street fights understood one rule.

If you defeated a person with the thing he trusted most, that was the cruelest way to break him.

If Evan dodged, Tank might think he was afraid.

So Evan chose to crush him in strength.

There was a dull crack.

Everyone watching heard the collision of bone clearly.

It was not a movie sound effect. It was hard, bright, and ugly.

Then Tank's thick arm dropped limply.

His wrist had been broken by Evan's punch.

Tank's reaction seemed delayed. He stood frozen for nearly ten seconds before releasing a scream so miserable several girls in the crowd flinched.

"Mason! My hand!"

"My hand's broken!"

Mason's eyes widened until his mouth hung open.

Fiona, standing behind him, turned pale and stepped backward by instinct.

Was this guy even human?

How could his strength be that terrifying?

Mason looked back at Fiona. Fear crawled into his heart.

He wanted to retreat.

But the situation had already become too big. So many people were watching. The girl he liked was watching. If he ran now, how would he survive in school afterward?

So he hardened his heart.

If he could not win cleanly, he would hit dirty.

Mason suddenly leapt forward and swung a wild punch at Evan's face.

As he attacked, he shouted, "Everyone, go!"

Evan sneered and turned his body aside easily. Mason's fist passed through empty air. Evan answered with a heavy hook to his stomach.

Mason folded like a shrimp.

The blow nearly forced everything in his belly back up his throat. He collapsed on the ground, making a strange leaking sound.

Wayne had already gripped the two telescopic batons tightly.

Seeing the remaining boys charge forward, he made one smart decision first: he pulled Wendy behind him.

Then he snapped one baton open with a sharp metallic sound and swung hard at the shoulder of the first boy rushing up.

The boy cried out and staggered backward, clutching his shoulder.

Evan also pulled out his baton.

He had no interest in fair play. Whoever came close got hit.

The other side had numbers, but no weapons and no courage once pain became real. Evan and Wayne beat them into chaos within moments. People who had looked fierce a minute ago now covered their heads and ran in every direction.

That was street fighting.

Very few people were truly unafraid of pain.

Only an idiot would keep charging into an iron baton.

In a few short exchanges, Mason's loose little group was completely scattered.

Evan carried the baton and walked slowly to Fiona.

He did not soften his face because she was a girl.

He lifted his hand and slapped her hard across the other cheek.

The side that had not been swollen before now reddened at visible speed.

Evan lowered the tip of the baton and tapped the front of Fiona's jacket near her collarbone, not hard, but enough to make her freeze.

"Listen carefully."

"From now on, Wendy is under my protection."

"If you touch a single hair on her head again, I'll make sure you regret having hands."

Fiona was completely terrified.

She covered her face, swallowed, and did not dare make a sound.

Evan snorted, collapsed the baton, and called for Wayne.

Then he led Wendy away openly.

Only after they were gone did the watching crowd erupt.

"Damn, that's embarrassing. Seven or eight people couldn't beat two?"

"What do you know? Those two had weapons."

"So what? Seven or eight people still got chased like dogs."

"Did you see the leader? One punch broke that big guy's wrist."

"That's insane. Which class is he in?"

"Is he going to become the new big brother of the school?"

"With that fighting power? Maybe."

Evan ignored them.

He took Wayne and Wendy through the crowd and left the lot.

Only when they reached the road did Wendy come closer with a red face.

"Evan... thank you."

"How about I buy you dinner?"

"Hotpot. My treat."

Evan did not speak. Wayne very wisely stayed silent too.

The two followed Wendy at an unhurried pace.

Wendy was only a poor student. She did not have much money, and on weekends she stayed at a relative's place. The most she could afford was cheap roadside hotpot, the kind where customers picked skewers into a basket and paid by the base soup and sticks.

Seeing Wendy's thin wallet, Evan and Wayne did not have the heart to slaughter her.

They chose one cheap plate of frozen beef rolls, one plate of sausage, and mostly vegetables that barely cost anything.

Evan was genuinely hungry.

He ate three bowls of rice in one breath and finally leaned back with satisfaction.

When Wayne stood and went to use the public restroom nearby, Evan turned toward Wendy.

He leaned closer, lowered his voice, and asked with a half-smile, "About what you promised in class."

"One night, right?"

"When are you free?"

Author's Note:

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Thank you for reading.