The onlookers started buzzing, whispering louder now. A small boy, no older than seven, was standing nearby, clinging to his mother's hand.
He stared up at Noah, wide-eyed, his young mind trying to make sense of what he was witnessing.
His mother, however, wasn't paying any attention to her son. Her gaze was fixed entirely on Noah, watching him with a dazed, almost admiring expression.
The boy tugged at his mother's hand, confused by the strange look on her face.
He squinted, staring between his mother and Noah, and suddenly as if a revelation struck him, he muttered to himself, "This guy must be one of those skibidi sigma or something… Otherwise, Mom wouldn't be looking at him like that."
His words went unheard, but the expression on his face—a mix of confusion and suspicion—would have made anyone laugh.
