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Chay flopped dramatically onto the compound’s couch, arms crossed, eyes burning with indignation. “Hia, how do I take revenge on my enemies?”
Porsche, who was half sprawled beside him with a beer in hand, jolted upright like he’d just been asked a pop quiz on morality. He cleared his throat, trying to summon his “responsible big brother” tone, the one he rarely used but liked to think he was good at.
“Listen, Nong,” Porsche began, setting his bottle down with exaggerated seriousness. “Sometimes the best revenge is to forgive and move on. Rise above them, you know? Show them their words or actions don’t affect you. That’s real power.”
Chay stared at him, unimpressed. “So… be boring?”
Porsche scowled. “No. Be mature.”
“Mature is boring,” Chay muttered under his breath, fidgeting with his sleeves.
Porsche sighed, already regretting trying to sound like a saint. “Well, you asked, and I answered. That’s how I'd handle it.”
Chay nodded slowly, like he was filing the answer away under completely useless older brother advice. His gaze shifted toward the doorway where Kinn had just walked in, freshly showered, still towel-drying his hair.
“P’Kinn,” Chay called, sweet and innocent, “how do I take revenge on my enemies?”
Kinn stopped mid-step. His towel slipped down around his shoulders. He blinked once, considering. Then his lips curled into a knowing smirk, eyes glinting with that dangerous confidence that had made grown men tremble.
“One word,” Kinn said casually, tossing the towel onto a chair. “Brick.”
Porsche nearly choked. “Kinn!”
Chay’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “...Brick?”
Kinn walked closer, lowering himself onto the arm of the sofa, meeting Chay’s gaze like he was passing down ancient wisdom. “Heavy enough to make a point. Quiet enough to get away with. Brick.”
Chay nodded furiously, like he’d just been given the secret to life. “That’s… that’s genius.”
“NO, IT’S NOT!” Porsche yelled, jumping to his feet. “Don’t encourage him!”
But it was too late. Chay leaned back, satisfied. “From this day on, the brick method is my method.”
Porsche dragged his hands down his face. “I was trying to give him life lessons, Kinn! Life lessons!”
“Relax,” Kinn replied smoothly, patting Chay’s head. “This is a life lesson. I'm just teaching the efficient way. Balance.”
Porsche groaned like the weight of the universe had landed on his shoulders, but Chay? He was already scheming in his head, his first imaginary brick practically materializing in his hand.
And that was the day Porsche realized: his little brother had two role models now. One saintly (himself). One brick-wielding demon (Kinn).
God help them all.