When Gabriel came back with a popsicle in each hand, the first thing he saw was Misha, whose pretty face had become bright red due to anger. Even his slender neck had taken reddish colors. His furrowed brows, pursed lips, and clenched fists gave the impression that the child had just suffered a grave injustice and was about to explode.

Then, Gabriel's eyes shifted to the kids who stood in a semi-circle around Misha. By the look of it, they were a bit older than the child, but since they didn't have the boy's health problems, they were a lot taller than him, especially the boy in the middle of the group. He was towering him and seemed to take great p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e in the difference of height.

Their sneers and the conceit written all over their faces irritated the eyes. The teenager didn't need to hear their conversion to understand what was going on. Their demeanors said it all.

"That brat sure loves trouble," Gabriel tsked and hurried over, but before he could intervene, he was left dumbstruck, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide open. Things didn't evolve the way he thought they would.

Without any hesitation, Misha leaped, grabbed the tallest boy's shoulders to add more strength to his momentum, and kneed him in the stomach. Then, the moment his foot, the one that didn't hit the kid, touched the sandy ground, he veered and elbowed him in the side, near the floating ribs. The boy's knees became weak and he fell on the ground, holding his stomach while coughing and throwing up saliva.

Before the rest of the group could react, Misha found his second target, the nearest boy to him, and skillfully headbutted him. A second later, blood was coming out of his nose, flooding his chin before dripping onto the sand, rapidly forming a puddle of blood. Instinctively, he put his hands under his nose to stop the bleeding, or at least to slow down the flow of blood, but to no avail. The blood slipped through his fingers, and his white hand turned into a deep dark red. His teary eyes were locked on the child they had thought to be an easy prey, disbelief written all over his face.

By the side, the little girl choked with sobs, taking a few steps back in fear, while the third boy finally came out of his stupor. The pitiful state of his friends made his insides burnt with anger, and he glared at the child with reddened eyes as if he was a murderer. Then, screaming his lungs out, he threw himself at the kid. When he was about to punch him in the face, a big hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks.

Misha was also held in place, a hand gripping his shoulder and pushing him down. Unknown to them, a teenager had approached and slipped between the two, handily stopping their fight.

A gentle yet firm voice echoed in their ears, saying, "I think that's enough, all of you."

After his words fell, only the noise from the crowd could be heard. Some had come over, wondering what was going on, and some asked around about the situation. Thus, the people were chitchatting about what had just occurred, giving their opinions on everything while criticizing the children. Their senseless remarks were enough to anger Misha to death, but Gabriel didn't pay them any attention. Instead, he stared at the two children in his hands and asked slowly, "Do you mind telling me what happened?"

Although he had a warm smile on his lips, the children all felt a shiver run down their spines. Their gut feelings told them that this guy was a wolf in sheep's clothing and that he was in a pretty bad mood. Only Misha wasn't affected by it. Without hesitation, he replied with a scoff, "Nothing. We were playing."

"You call that playing?" asked Gabriel, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at the kid with a nosebleed and then at the one who was still curl up on the ground, coughing and m.o.a.ning in pain.

"Yes," answered Misha, lifting his head and smiling brightly at the teenage boy. The seemingly innocent smile was cheerful and adorable, the kind that softened the heart. Usually, it would make people want to smile in response, but right now, it only made the crowd of onlookers uncomfortable. As for the children, they couldn't help but tremble in fear, wondering what kind of beast they had just offended.

"I don't think your 'friends' call that playing, though," sighed Gabriel, insisting on the word 'friends' by deepening his voice while glancing at them with a cold light in his emerald eyes.

"Well, they started it," pouted Misha, puffing out his cheeks.

Leaving the other children aside for the moment, the teenager gave Misha a strange look. The boy didn't say anything, acting as if he hadn't noticed his gaze, and complained in his heart, 'They started it with words, and I answered with my fists. What's wrong with that? Am I not even allowed to defend myself?'

"For now, let's go inside the cabin. I think there is a small infirmary," proposed Gabriel, loosening his grip on the two children.

"There's no need." Misha shook his head, then pointed at the child's bloody nose. "I didn't break it. Well, I didn't hear it crack. So, it should stop bleeding soon..."

Misha suddenly shut his mouth when he saw how the child was clumsily dealing with the blood rushing out of his nose. Without any warning, he came closer and roared, "Would you not throw your head backward like an idiot!?" He grabbed his head, pulling his ears, and forced the child to tilt his head forward. "Do you want to choke on your own blood? Don't you know your nose is connected to your damn throat? When are you going to pinch your nose instead of cupping your hand under it? For God's sake, how can you be so useless! You never had a nosebleed before or what!?"

"And you!" Misha turned his head after taking care of the bloody kid and glared at the boy curled up on the ground. "Are you done whining? You should be able to breathe correctly now. It's not like your ribs are broken. So suck it up and stand up if you're a man!"

Hearing his words, the child felt deeply humiliated, and biting his lips, he forced himself to get back on his feet. He was still holding his sides, which were incredibly painful.

Satisfied, Misha nodded. Then, he grinned and said with a vicious tone that contrasted vividly with his soft voice, "So? Am I still a girl pretending to be a boy? Say? Am I a girl?"

The four children immediately shook their heads, not daring to say anything for fear of getting their a.s.s kicked once again. They didn't want their ribs and their nose to be broken for real. They were no fools, and they also understood their error. In truth, they genuinely thought that he was a girl, resulting in this joke. Now that the reality had hit them hard, they wouldn't run after the stick to get beaten up again. They weren't m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.ts.

"Good. As long as you understand," scoffed Misha. "Now, scram, and don't you dare run back crying to your daddy!"

The kids left without looking back, and now that the show had ended, the crowd started to scatter. Some wanted to comment, but they changed their minds when they saw the teenager smiling politely yet coldly at them. Anyway, it wasn't like something serious had happened, and they did ignore the bullying at first, so it wasn't their place to say anything.

Glancing at Gabriel from the corner of his eyes, Misha grumped, "Where is my popsicle."

"Here," smiled Gabriel, taking out the popsicles that he had put in the pockets of his swimming trunk. He didn't have a choice to do so if he wanted to stop the child's fight without throwing the snacks he had just bought on the sand.

Upon seeing the popsicles, stars twinkled in his eyes, and Misha instinctively tried to snatch one from the teenager's hand. However, he raised his arm above his head, and thus, the boy wasn't able to reach it. He ended up stumbling over his feet and crashed head-first into Gabriel's stomach.

"We're going back to the campsite," announced the teenager, and Misha lifted his head to look into his eyes, pursing his lips.

"Why!?"

"Didn't you hurt your ankle?"

"..." Misha blinked a few times. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't!"

"It's swollen."

"What? It can't be swollen! It's just a small strain!" replied the child before looking down to make sure that his ankle was indeed alright, only to realize that Gabriel had tricked him. His ankle wasn't even red, still as white as ever.

"..."

"Let's go back," chuckled the teenager, waving the popsicle in front of his face as if he was teasing a dog with a bone. "Don't worry, I will give you a piggyback ride, and you can eat the popsicle at the same time."

"No! I don't want to!"

"I will give you two choices. I can f.o.r.c.i.b.l.y drag you to the infirmary, or we can go back to the campsite to wrap your ankle in a bandage. Which do you prefer?"

"..." Misha made a sullen face. "I still can walk on my own."

"You just tripped over your own feet."

"That was an accident! If I'm careful, it won't happen a second time."

"It is much better to be safe than sorry. There are many roots and stones in the trail."

"So what? I'm not blind and it's daytime. I can see them very well! I don't need your patronage, thank you!"

"Even so, it won't be easy to steady your stance with your injured ankle. I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself badly. A strain is already too much. Moreover, you better make your choice quickly. The popsicle has started melting."

"Blackmailing is what bad guys do!"

In response, Gabriel smiled like an old fox, and said, "So? What do we do?"

"..." Misha hung his head low and whispered through his teeth. "Piggyback ride."

The child silently sobbed. No matter the timeline, he wasn't a match for Gabriel when it came down to verbal jousts, and sadly, he couldn't beat the crap out of him as he had done with the stupid brats. They weren't on the same level of strength at all! It was like comparing a big boss from a dungeon floor to level 1 monsters.

__________________

Author's note:

MC: OMG! I talked so much in this chapter! My throat hurts now.

Author: Yeah, you fought like an old married couple!

MC: Shut up. We didn't.

ML: It looks more like a parent-child fight if you ask me.

MC: I don't want you as a father!

ML: Good, I don't want to be your father, either. I don't have a daddy kink.

MC:???

ML: You will understand when you're older.

MC:...