They Will All Bow To Me!

Chapter 6

About thirty minutes after the chaos at Neon Wears—where Michael had not only destroyed Charger and his men but also wrecked Becky’s Bentley—he and his friends found themselves at another luxury store across town. The tension had died down a bit, but Barry and Jace were still visibly shaken. They had begged Michael to avoid Neon Wears entirely after what happened.

Michael, calm as always, had insisted they finish their shopping there, but his friends flat-out refused. They were terrified Becky would call the police and have them arrested for assault and property damage. In their minds, Michael might be able to beat up security guards, but he couldn’t win against the law.

Michael didn’t care about the police—not because he thought himself invincible, but because he knew how to handle such matters quietly. Still, seeing how anxious his friends were, he decided not to argue. He only sighed and followed them into the new store to keep their minds at peace.

For the past half hour, Barry and Jace had been sneaking glances at Michael, their faces filled with disbelief. The same Michael who used to get bullied in class? The same Michael who never fought back, who once got slapped by a junior and didn’t even raise his voice? The same guy had just sent Charger’s men flying through the air like rag dolls.

Jace couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Bro… where the hell did you learn that?” he asked. “Like, since when did you start fighting like that?”

Michael smiled faintly, shaking his head. “Just been practicing secretly,” he said coolly. “I got tired of the bullying, so I found an online master who’s been training me for a while.”

“Online master?” Barry repeated, frowning. “Like YouTube or something?”

Michael shrugged. “Something like that.”

The two friends exchanged a look of relief. So that was it—beginner’s luck. A lucky streak. Nothing mystical or mysterious. 

Barry slapped Michael on the back and laughed. “Man, that was wild though. You saw Charger’s face? He looked like a cartoon character missing a tooth!”

The memory made them all laugh. Jace couldn’t stop reenacting how Charger’s men flew through the air and crashed into Becky’s car. “Boom! Boom! Boom!” he said, waving his arms dramatically. 

Barry wiped a tear from his eye, still laughing. “Man, I can’t wait to see the memes! Charger’s livestream must’ve gone viral by now!”

They were still laughing as they stepped into the store. This one was glossier, larger—filled with gold trimmings and the scent of imported leather. It screamed class. The trio stood there for a while, admiring the elegance.

Just then, a sudden scream pierced the air.

“MICHAEL!!!”

They all turned. Three stunning girls, dressed in designer clothes and holding shopping bags, were waving excitedly from across the room.

“MICHAEL!!! Oh my God, it’s HIM!” one of them yelled, bouncing on her heels.

Barry and Jace froze, then turned to Michael with wide grins. “Bro…” Jace whispered. “You just became famous.”

Barry elbowed him. “See? You don’t need Jane anymore, bro. These baddies are literally screaming for you now!”

Michael chuckled modestly. The girls started calling him names:

“Campus Bruce Lee!” 

“Lancelot of Moons!” 

“The Dragon King!” 

All making the boys laugh even harder.

“Wave back, man!” Barry urged. “Don’t be shy!”

Michael hesitated, then gave a small wave. The girls squealed even louder and started running toward them, throwing their shopping bags aside as if they couldn’t wait another second. Barry and Jace stepped back, clearing the way dramatically.

“Open your arms, bro,” Jace whispered, nudging him. “Time to embrace your fans!”

Michael awkwardly spread his arms open. The girls kept running—until they reached him… and shoved all three of them aside.

Barry and Jace crashed to the floor, and Michael staggered but caught himself before falling. The girls didn’t even look at them. They brushed past, their perfumes trailing behind, and ran straight toward someone standing behind the trio.

Michael turned—and froze.

It was Michael Braken, better known as Mikel, the campus green belt karate champion. The girls squealed and jumped into his arms like he was a movie star.

For a moment, Mikel looked confused—but when the girls started hugging him and calling him “the strongest man on campus,” he went along with it.

Barry’s jaw dropped. “What the hell?”

Jace scowled. “They thought that Michael was this Michael!”

Michael just sighed, rubbing his temples. “Let them have it. It’s fine.”

“Fine?!” Barry barked. “Bro, they’re giving your credit to him! That’s YOUR slap that broke Charger’s tooth!”

Michael laughed softly. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t need the attention.”

But Mikel was thriving on it. He hugged the girls tighter, posing for selfies and videos. Within minutes, his phone started buzzing uncontrollably. When he checked it, his Gram followers had skyrocketed—from less than 5,000 to over 250,000 in half an hour.

“What the—?” he muttered, scrolling through his notifications. His DMs were blowing up—from girls he had admired for years, from campus influencers, even from people outside the university. Some were calling him a legend, a hero, the “Dragon of Moons.”

He blinked in disbelief. “Did I just become… famous?”

One of the girls giggled, tugging his arm. “Of course, you did! We all saw what you did to Charger! You’re amazing!”

Mikel froze. “Ch–Charger?!”

“Yeah!” another girl said dreamily. “You destroyed him and his men! Everyone’s talking about it!”

Mikel’s eyes widened in panic. ‘Charger? The same Charger who beat me up last semester?’

There was no way. He wasn’t even there!

Trying to keep his cool, he laughed nervously. “Ah, right, right. Yeah… that Charger.”

The girls clung to him tighter, squealing. “You’re the strongest man on campus!”

Mikel forced a grin but was sweating bullets. He excused himself, saying he needed to “use the restroom,” and hurried away. His heart was pounding.

“Who the hell beat up Charger then?” he muttered to himself as he locked the door behind him. “And why does everyone think it’s me?”

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, realization dawning slowly.

“…Wait. Don’t tell me… it was that other Michael? Can’t be, he’s a weakling.”

Outside, the girls were livestreaming, tagging him, calling him “Campus Dragon King.” The store’s speakers were filled with their laughter.

Meanwhile, a few aisles away, the real Michael was silently checking out outfits with his friends—calm, unreadable, and smiling faintly at the irony of it all.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t need recognition to feel powerful.

The world could keep worshiping a fake. He didn’t care.