"You are my goddess. I am your warrior."
The confident declaration rang out, steady and full of conviction.
Maria blinked, her tired eyes struggling to focus as the words hung in the air.
Her lips parted, but the words failed her—was this some kind of prank? Her brow furrowed deeper in confusion.
One look, then a second look.
There was this young man standing in front of her in the bustling street, amidst flickering traffic lights, the glow of car headlights, and crowds lost in their own business.
Maria Eine, a 24-year-old corporate worker, longed to collapse into bed and escape the day's exhaustion.
Yet, what was this person saying… to her?
Was he pulling some kind of prank? Or perhaps he was one of those influencers shooting one of those reaction videos??
Still, no matter whether she had heard him correctly or was just imagining things, it was getting late.
Maria Eine glanced around once more before staring back at the young man.
His unwavering gaze was locked onto hers, as if it refused to look away.
He seemed serious, but she had no time to entertain him. Her queen-size bed was waiting, her stomach demanding to be fed, and her eyes were fighting the battle between staying awake and giving in to sleep.
"Sorry, you've got the wrong person." Maria muttered, her voice heavy with fatigue.
She took a step around him, barely sparing a second glance. She didn't have time for this—her day had already stretched long enough, and there was no room in her mind for grand declarations from strangers.
As she walked past the still figure, she heard him whisper again. "I am your warrior."
A flicker of curiosity stirred within her, and she almost looked at the young man's face again.
But before she could act on impulse, a commotion erupted nearby.
An old, drunk salaryman began shouting angrily, smashing bottles and cursing. His booming voice cut through the noise of the crowd.
Passersby screamed as they were struck by glass shards, and those quick to react scattered, creating a ripple of chaos on the street.
Maria Eine stopped and snapped her head toward the other side of the road, where the events were unfolding.
It was natural for people to stop and look, and she, like many others, couldn't help but glance.
The drunk salaryman was shouting. "Why isn't my daughter a goddess? Why are those other daughters—Idiots! Fools! All of them—!"
His wild, bloodshot eyes suddenly locked onto something across the street.
The older man's mouth dropped open, his words faltering, as if they had been stolen by the very sight before him.
Without a moment's hesitation, he bolted away, fear evident in his every step, with police officers chasing after him.
"Another drunkard. Old people these days just can't accept their daughters not being chosen," an old lady murmured beside Maria Eine, her tone dripping with insensitivity as they walked past.
Maria Eine heard the comment but didn't dwell on it. Instead, she glanced at her phone—7:33 PM.
Shocked.
This wasn't good. If she didn't hurry, the traffic would make her even later.
So, she quickened her steps up the station stairs, already forgetting the young man standing a few steps away.
People were already in long lines, and she almost cursed herself for wasting time watching.
Maria Eine was just about to follow the line through the crowded station when a sharp voice rang out.
"Excuse me, you're cutting the line!"
Startled, Maria Eine turned around. She saw a middle-aged woman, her outfit dazzling with vibrant colors and sparkling jewelry, angrily shouting at someone.
The target of her ire was a high school girl in a plain uniform who had just stepped in front of Maria, as if she had already been in line.
Maria blinked, stunned for a moment by the girl's audacity. The people behind them muttered insults under their breath, clearly annoyed.
It was clear now—someone was cutting in front of her, and the tension in the packed train station thickened as everyone around her was either exhausted or on the verge of being late for work.
"Kids these days are really uneducated and have no manners. Just look at these poor people from the poorer areas—they clearly lack discipline."
"Says the one who was shouting in public like a crazy woman."
The young high schooler sneered, smirking and crossing her arms, giving the older woman a challenging look.
"What did you say? Who are you calling a crazy woman? You really have no manners!" The older woman snapped, her face flushed with fury. She stormed over, crossing her arms, and fixed the high schooler with a glare sharp enough to pierce through.
Maria Eine, one of the people annoyed deep inside with a resting face of someone who couldn't care less, really wanted to roll her eyes and move on.
She really had no time for this now.
What was with tonight and all these bizarre encounters?
"How about asking yourself, old hag?"
"You—what did you say? You little brat deserves a beating!"
Such an insult clearly enraged the older woman, and she moved as if to physically hurt the younger girl.
But before she could take a step forward, a tall man emerged from the crowd, standing by the high schooler with an air of silent authority. His presence was unmistakable, like a wall that demanded respect. His gaze fixed on the older woman, unblinking, as if daring her to challenge him.
"Touch my goddess, and you'll regret it for the rest of your life." He said, his voice low and dangerous.
The older woman froze, her anger faltering as she saw the man beside the high schooler.
His words struck her like a blow, and she instinctively stepped back, as if the mere presence of this stranger had robbed her of all bravado.
The onlookers, already watching, began murmuring among themselves.
"Look at that coat— Isn't that a warrior's badge?"
"Damn, yes, a warrior! That means the little girl must be a goddess."
"She looks younger than the others. Have they started reporting high schoolers awakening now?"
The revelation of the identity clearly shifted the focus of the situation.
People began to turn their attention toward them, standing still in line.
This caused the security guards of the train station, who had not yet noticed, to quickly become aware of the commotion.