I slowly opened the door, prepared to face any danger or strange "Quirk," but the scene that unfolded before me was far beyond my expectations.
In the middle of the room sat a middle-aged man, dressed in ragged clothes and appearing utterly neglected. He was immersed in reading an adult magazine with a foolish grin on his face. He wasn't a ghost; he was just a squatter taking advantage of the house's bad reputation to live there undisturbed.
I looked at him with complete coldness, a wave of disgust washing over me. I said in a firm, emotionless voice, "Truly... you are pathetic."
The man jumped in terror, the magazine slipping from his hand as he stared at me in disbelief. His fear quickly turned to anger, and he shouted at me, "You! How dare you? Didn't you just leave? I was sure I had scared you off!"
I didn't care about his words or his failed attempt to play the ghost. I scanned the room, which appeared cleaner than the first floor, then turned my gaze back to him and said in a practical tone, "Listen carefully... I know this house is legally abandoned, and while our entry might be considered disrespectful, we are going to live here. We will take the first floor and will never intrude on your privacy on the second floor. In return, you will stay here and never set foot on the first floor."
The man was stunned, his eyes widening as he tried to process what I was saying. It seemed he had never met a child who spoke with such cold logic and audacity.
I continued as I turned to leave, "I know this might be seen as unfair to you and your freedom in this place, but we have no other home to go to, so please bear with us for a while... our presence will be quiet."
"As for objecting, that would be foolish because you know you are exactly like us—you don't own this house either." As soon as I finished my words, I began walking toward the stairs coldly. But I hadn't even taken a single step when the room shook with the angry man's voice screaming behind me, "Wait, you brat! Who do you think you are to decide the rules?!"
I turned slowly, but before I could utter a word, I saw the man's large hand heading toward my face with a speed I hadn't expected from someone of his stature. Although my eyes tracked the movement precisely, my weak, childish body couldn't react in time to dodge it.
His fist slammed into my stomach with force; I felt as if my internal organs were crushed. I instinctively bent over, throwing up my breakfast on the floor as the air escaped my lungs. The man gave me no chance to catch my breath; he delivered a kick that sent me flying against the dusty wall.
"You know what? I don't care anymore!" the man shouted, wiping sweat from his forehead. He leaned down, picked up his cursed magazine, and threw it into the corner with contempt. He continued in a revolting tone, "Why waste my time on a magazine when there's a woman waiting downstairs? Even if she isn't beautiful, I assure you I'll take good care of her in my own way."
The man turned and began moving toward the door with heavy steps, his filthy mind thinking only of my mother lying downstairs in her weak, exhausted state.
But he hadn't taken two steps when he suddenly stopped. He felt a sharp sting and a sudden, agonizing pain in his ankle.
________
[Third-Person Perspective]
A deathly silence fell over the upper floor.
The sound of the man's heavy breathing suddenly shifted into gasps of terror. The boy was lying on the floor, his small body looking frail, but something had snapped in that moment.
Doma was engulfed by a sensation of a massive headache before he completely lost consciousness.
The air in the room changed, turning cold enough to freeze one's breath.
Suddenly, the hand gripping the man's ankle moved. It wasn't just a grip; it was like a vice. The boy raised his head slowly, but the features that were pale a moment ago now wore a smile. His rainbow eyes gleamed clearly.
"Ara... ara... ara..."
His voice came out smooth as silk. The boy tilted his head and continued, "Hello... I have never in my life seen someone as bold as you."
The blood froze in the man's veins. He instinctively tried to kick with his other foot to break free, but the boy blocked the kick with his hand with utter ease. He then whispered, "Your voice is too loud... it will disturb my mother."
At that moment, a terrifying aura of death erupted from him—a wave of pressure that covered the entire second floor.
Suddenly, in a swift motion, the water vapor in the air condensed. Shards of ice began to gather between the boy's fingers to form a hand fan made of ice. "Doma" raised it to cover half of his face, while his eyes watched the man with a terrifying smile that widened to reveal his fangs.
He spoke in a whispering, fragmented voice, "I heard something very bad today... truly bad. Why don't you repeat it now? I want to hear more about how you'll 'take care' of my mother."
As soon as Doma finished his words, the ice fan in his hand moved.
The fan struck the dilapidated wooden floor, and suddenly, pillars of frost erupted to form a massive throne of ice.
The young boy sat upon his icy throne, crossing one leg over the other with cold regality.
A dark majesty filled the room before the man quietly swallowed his spit.
Doma raised the fan and closed it with a snap, then placed the tip of it under the man's chin, forcing his head up to look directly into his eyes.
Doma smiled a wide grin that lacked any shred of mercy and said in a soft tone, "Come on, my friend... don't be shy now. Speak! Tell me more about your filthy plans, for I don't have enough time to talk with you..."
The man froze completely. The ice fan pressing against his neck made things even worse.
There was only one thought ringing in his head:
[This is the end.]
________.
Note: Hello, dear readers! There is indeed a system for bonus chapters, so please support me with Power Stones!