Clash of the Golden Users

Section 1: The Golden Bowl Meets the Golden Eyes

The next day, the midday sun beat down on Local Alley, baking the pavement beneath it.

Lawson was back in his usual spot, wearing the same outdated railroad worker uniform. He squatted in his signature pose, his arms hanging loosely over his knees while one foot bounced lazily.

Just then, a tall, lean man came walking down the alley.

He wore a tight black tank top, Nike shorts, and athletic sneakers. He had a sharp jawline and strikingly good looks.

As he passed, he casually lifted his sunglasses just a bit and glanced toward Lawson. His eyes briefly shimmered with a soft golden glow.

Lawson gave his chipped ceramic bowl a casual shake.

“Spare some change, good sir? Haven’t eaten all day.”

The man stopped.

“I’m Brian,” he said calmly. “One of the senior members of the Humble Organization. I’m here on assignment.”

Lawson raised his eyes, confused.

“Huh? I’m just a broke, fragile, ordinary guy trying to get by. What could someone like me possibly have to do with your organization? You sure you’ve got the right person?”

Brian gave a faint smile.

“Yesterday, one of our businesses—a massage parlor—filed a report. Said a customer received two hours of our most… specialized services and walked out without paying. Not only that, but he also tricked our masseuse out of all her tip money before leaving.”

Lawson blinked and tilted his head. He seemed to realize something but kept his act straight.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If you’ve got money to give, I’ll take it. If not, kindly move along. I’m trying to run a business here.”

He lifted his chipped bowl again and gave it a gentle shake.

A soft golden glow shimmered from within.

The two of them stood there, unmoving. Ten… maybe twenty seconds passed. Nothing happened.

Brian gave a small, knowing smile—like he’d already expected this outcome.

Lawson, on the other hand, frowned. He glanced at his bowl, then back at Brian. He shook it again, harder this time. The golden glow grew brighter, warmer, more pronounced. But Brian just kept watching, completely unbothered.

Lawson gritted his teeth and fixed his eyes on the bowl. His face slowly turned red, and the veins at his temples began to bulge.

He gathered every ounce of mental energy he had. Every brain cell, every last drip of inner power was focused on the bowl. His hands trembled as he pushed the Golden Bowl to maximum output. The glow intensified until it looked almost blinding.

But still… nothing.

Brian didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. His eyes remained fixed on the glowing bowl, calm and unfazed.

Lawson was breathing heavily now, completely drained. His head spun, and he looked like he could barely keep himself upright.

Then Brian spoke—calm, cold, and to the point.

“Alright. Let’s talk about your debt.”

Section 2: Five Seconds

“The room fee… plus the tip… plus the cash you stole from our massage technician’s purse… plus the penalty. That adds up to about a thousand bucks. Hand it over now, and I’ll pretend this never happened. Just a warning, since it’s your first offense.”

Lawson immediately shook his head, breathing hard.

“No way. I swear, I’ve never done anything like that. It’s not like you have any proof or something.”

Brian’s faint smile disappeared, his expression turning serious.

“Well then,” he said quietly.

“If that’s how you want it… I’ll take it by force. One way or another.”

Lawson’s body stiffened. He glanced around nervously, then nodded quickly, fear creeping into his face.

“Alright, alright! I’ll pay up—just don’t hurt me.”

He slipped his right hand into his pants pocket and slowly felt around, as if searching for some crumpled cash.

Brian’s golden eyes shimmered faintly. Without emotion, he said:

“Don’t even think about it. You’re gonna pretend to look for some cash, then throw a cheap sucker punch at me. Don’t.”

Lawson froze mid-motion. His fingers, just inches from curling into a fist, stiffened. He looked stunned, as if Brian had read his mind.

“H-how did you…?”

Brian calmly took off his sunglasses and slipped them into his pocket. Then he pointed a finger toward one of his softly glowing eyes.

“See? These are called the Golden Eyes. Every twitch. Every shift of your muscles. Every little move you make—I can read it all. Before you even throw a punch, I already know where it’s going.”

He lowered his hand.

“And if your move is physically possible for me to perform, I can copy it too. All of them.”

Lawson stared at him in disbelief, clearly unwilling to accept what he was hearing. But even he could see it now—he had no chance against Brian in a straight fight.

However, Lawson still decided to take his chances.

In one quick motion, he pulled a switchblade from his pocket. With a yell, he lunged forward and thrust it toward Brian’s chest.

But before the blade even got close, Brian moved.

A sharp crack! rang out.

Brian’s hand shot forward like lightning—a single knifehand chop slammed down on Lawson’s wrist. The blade clattered to the ground.

Lawson staggered backward, stunned and winded.

“W-what the hell? How are you so fast?!”

Brian shook his head.

“It’s not that I’m fast. It’s that your attack was painfully predictable.”

Lawson stared at him, his teeth grinding in frustration.

Brian took a step forward and raised his voice.

“Now! Last chance!”

Lawson swallowed hard and stood there, uncertain what to do next.

Brian calmly crossed his arms and tapped one finger against his elbow, watching him in silence as his patience began to wear thin.

Finally, Brian spoke.

“Come on. Everyone’s busy in modern society these days. You know there’s no way out of this, so there’s no need to make things difficult.”

He paused.

“I’ll give you five seconds. I don’t want this to get ugly.”

Lawson hesitated, still refusing to give in.

Brian didn’t bother counting.

Section 3: Brian Shows Off

In a flash, Brian rushed forward and threw the first punch.

Even without the Golden Eyes, Brian completely outclassed Lawson in speed, strength, and precision. Within seconds, he landed several clean hits—a punch to the jaw, two to the ribs, followed by a few sharp kicks to the legs.

Lawson stumbled backward, barely able to keep his balance.

Brian glanced at his watch. There were still a few hours left before the end of his shift.

He decided to show off a little.

He grabbed Lawson by both shoulders and yanked him forward. Without letting go, he began driving his knees upward in rapid succession, almost like a cartoon character running in place.

It was the same move Tom had once used against Canelo right here in Local Alley. It looked ridiculous—but the power behind it was no joke.

Brian’s knees slammed into Lawson’s gut and chest again and again. Blood sprayed from Lawson’s mouth as his arms went limp, no longer able to defend himself.

After barely ten seconds of the high-knee strikes, Brian let go and stepped back.

Lawson collapsed to the ground. Trembling, he slowly pushed himself onto his knees and bowed his head.

“Please… spare me. I’ll pay. I’ll pay whatever I owe you. Just don’t hurt me anymore. I’m begging you…”

He lowered himself further.

The instant his forehead touched the ground, a soft golden light flashed from the center of his forehead—the signature glow of his Golden Bow.

Brian suddenly froze.

His body went completely still, and the calm focus in his eyes faded into a blank, distant stare. He didn’t speak or move, as if the Golden Bow had taken hold of him completely.

Lawson slowly raised his head. He studied Brian’s face for a few seconds, then a creepy smile spread across his own.

“Hey, mighty Brian… don’t you think Little Lawson looks awfully pitiful right now? Don’t you feel bad hurting poor Little Lawson?”

Brian stared blankly ahead.

“Poor guy…” he murmured. “Such a poor guy…”

Lawson’s creepy smile widened.

He reached down and quietly picked up the switchblade that had fallen earlier. Brian didn’t react.

Lawson could already taste victory.

“One wrong move…” he said with a grin. “And even the mighty Brian could meet his demise.”

He suddenly sprang to his feet and drove the blade straight toward Brian’s chest.

Section 4: IQ-Based Domination

Actually, Brian had been playing along the whole time.

He had found it rather amusing to let Lawson believe the Golden Bow had worked, if only for a few seconds.

Just before the blade reached his chest, the blank look vanished from his eyes.

A faint grin appeared on his face.

Then his leg shot up.

Crack!

Brian’s kick slammed directly into Lawson’s wrist. The switchblade flew from his hand, bounced across the pavement, and skidded several feet away.

Lawson dropped to his knees, clutching his broken wrist as he cried out in pain.

But after the initial shock, the pain itself almost seemed to stop mattering. Lawson slowly looked up at Brian, his face filled with confusion and disbelief.

“Why?! Why didn’t my Golden Technique do anything? Why didn’t it work?! I don’t understand!”

Brian calmly folded his arms across his chest.

“Alright. I’ll spare two minutes and explain how Golden Techniques actually work.”

Lawson stared up at him, still clutching his broken wrist.

“Golden Techniques have their limits. At their core, they’re based on intelligence. The greater the difference in IQ between you and your target, the stronger the effect becomes.”

Brian paused briefly before continuing.

“If your target is significantly less intelligent than you, your Golden Technique can dominate them almost completely. But against someone with a similar level of intelligence, the effect becomes much weaker. And if they’re smarter than you, it may not work at all.”

Lawson’s eyes slowly widened.

“So… so why the hell didn’t anyone tell me this before? Damn it!”

Brian looked down at him.

“That’s what Golden Techniques really are—a form of IQ-based domination.”

A faint smile appeared on his face.

“In conclusion, they only work when you’re smarter.”

Lawson stared at Brian for a long moment, still struggling to accept what he had just heard.

But eventually, his shoulders sagged and he lowered his head.

There was nothing left for him to try. The Golden Bowl had failed. The Golden Bow had failed. Even pulling a switchblade had gotten him nothing but a broken wrist.

For once, Lawson had finally run out of tricks.

He remained on his knees for a few seconds before letting out a long, defeated sigh.

“Fine… I give up.”

And with that, the fight was over.

Section 5: Two Hundred Percent Sure

Brian glanced down at Lawson, who was still kneeling on the pavement.

“Alright. Enough of this. You still owe us money. Hand it over.”

Lawson didn’t answer.

He was still lost in the crushing realization that he had been completely defeated. His mind hadn’t quite returned to reality yet.

Brian’s patience was beginning to wear thin.

His Golden Eyes shimmered faintly as he scanned Lawson from head to toe, searching for any sign of where he might have hidden the money.

Then his gaze stopped.

Something around Lawson’s crotch looked… unusually bulky.

Brian narrowed his eyes.

The rest of Lawson was skinny, but there was a suspiciously large bulge beneath his pants.

Very suspicious.

Brian stared at it for a moment.

He seemed to have found the money.

“The money’s gotta be in there,” Brian muttered. “I’m two hundred percent sure. No doubt about it.”

Without another word, Brian stepped forward. His hand shot straight toward the suspicious bulge, grabbed it firmly, and pulled.

Hard.

Lawson’s entire body jolted as a scream tore out of him.

“AAAAHHHH! IT HURTS! IT HURTS ALL THE WAY TO MY SOUL! What the hell are you doing?! Jesus Christ! LET GO! LET GO!”

Brian froze, his fingers still wrapped around whatever he had grabbed. For the first time that afternoon, genuine confusion appeared on his face.

He gave it one more cautious squeeze, just to make sure.

Lawson nearly collapsed.

“AAAAHHHH! MY SOUL! MY FUCKING SOUL!”

Then Brian’s eyes widened.

“Oh my God…”

He immediately let go and took a step back.

“I thought that was a wad of cash.” Brian stared at Lawson for a moment. “Turns out it was just a gigantic cock.”

A heavy silence fell over the alley.

Section 6: Exactly One Thousand Dollars

Lawson remained on his knees, trembling, both hands firmly protecting his crotch. Without saying a word, he reached into his actual pocket and pulled out a thick wad of crumpled bills.

Brian took the money and quickly counted it.

Exactly one thousand dollars. Not a cent more, not a cent less.

Brian folded the bills and slipped them into his pocket.

“If you’d just cooperated from the beginning, we could’ve avoided all this trouble—and all that embarrassment.”

He shook his head and started to leave, but after a few steps, something still bothered him. He stopped and glanced back over his shoulder.

“You know, there’s one thing I still don’t understand.”

Lawson remained on his knees, both hands firmly protecting his crotch.

“You’re number one in the begging business. With that Golden Bowl of yours, you could easily make thousands of dollars a day just sitting on the street.”

He paused, genuinely puzzled.

“So why the hell would you go to a massage parlor, enjoy the whole service, trick the masseuse out of her tip money, and then run off without paying like a total douchebag?”

Lawson said nothing.

Brian waited, but no answer came. After a few seconds, he gave up and glanced at his watch.

Almost five.

“Perfect timing,” he murmured. “Time to clock out.”

With that, Brian turned and walked away, leaving Lawson kneeling alone on the pavement, hunched over with both hands between his legs.

For a long while, Lawson didn’t move.

He just stayed there in silence, deep in thought.