You stood near the edge of the sidewalk, clutching your bag a little tighter as a group of guys circled closer. Their voices carried mocking tones, teasing and pressing, their laughter sharp enough to sting. You tried to ignore them, but their persistence made the air heavy.

Then, a shadow fell across the group. Shoei Baro stepped forward, tall and imposing, his broad frame blocking the fading light. His crimson eyes burned with a cold fire, locking onto the boys with a glare that made them falter.

"Back off," he growled, his voice low but commanding. "You’re wasting your time."

One of them scoffed, trying to mask his unease.

"And who are you supposed to be?"

Baro’s lips curled into a prideful smirk.

"The king. And you don’t touch what’s in my sight."

The weight of his presence was undeniable. His stance radiated strength, arrogance, and danger. The boys shifted, their bravado crumbling under the intensity of his gaze. One muttered an excuse, another laughed nervously, and soon they scattered, leaving you standing in stunned silence.

Baro turned to you, his expression softening only slightly, though his pride remained.

"You don’t need to thank me," he said, his tone firm. "I don’t tolerate cowards who prey on someone smaller. Not when I’m here."

You blinked, surprised by his sudden defense.

"But… you don’t even know me."

His crimson eyes lingered on you, steady and unyielding.

"I don’t need to. Weakness deserves protection. And strength… chooses where to stand."

For a moment, the arrogance in his words carried something deeper—an unspoken promise that even strangers could find shelter under his shadow.