Chapter 6 : Sheffield… Mr?

“Hey hey hey! Are you blind or what? Huh?!”

A burly man with green hair patted the dust off his clothes, glaring up at Sheffil, who stood a full head taller than him.

His expression was anything but friendly.

“You bumped into me—don’t tell me you’ve never heard of me?”

As he spoke, six other muscular men with differently colored hair slowly moved in, hands in their pockets, surrounding Sheffil.

Clearly, they weren’t here for a friendly chat.

Sheffil glanced around.

This alleyway was a dead end—likely a hangout spot for this gang of thugs.

Well… let’s just say luck wasn’t on his side today.

Without realizing it, Sheffil’s fist slowly clenched.

“That bump just now—man, it was close.”

The green-haired guy exaggeratedly tugged at his sleeve and leaned in so close his face nearly touched Sheffil’s.

“You almost ripped my limited-edition Miss Dorothy Signature Jacket. So tell me—how are you gonna compensate me, huh?!”

…What?

“Yeah, that’s right,” chimed in the yellow-haired one.

“We lined up all night just to get this limited edition from Miss Dorothy’s official fan club. If you don’t give us a proper explanation, don’t expect to walk away.”

Looking closer, Sheffil realized they were all wearing the same black-and-white jacket.

But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t see even the slightest trace of Dorothy’s design style.

“Dorothy-themed? That thing?”

Sheffil had never heard of the fan club releasing something like this.

It was so cheap-looking, he almost laughed.

If the fan club’s department heads saw this, they’d have ordered a full product recall and publicly burned every last one.

“Hmph, never seen it before, huh?”

Green Hair puffed up his chest.

“This was personally overseen by President Sheffil of Dorothy’s fan club—her childhood friend. We paid a full thousand rubies for these seven pieces.”

Seeing Sheffil’s confusion, the gang immediately adopted smug expressions, proudly boasting about their gear.

“Hah? Sheffil? Selling that kind of garbage?”

Sheffil was stunned.

Who was trying to destroy his reputation like this?

That tacky thing—personally supervised by him?

And more importantly, the fan club didn’t even have a ‘president.’ Just eight department heads.

And Sheffil—

He was just a regular member.

“Hey, brothers… just a thought here, a possibility, not saying it’s true—but maybe, just maybe… you guys got scammed? I don’t think this is official fan club merchandise at all.”

Realizing the seven thugs were Dorothy fans who’d been duped into buying fake merchandise, Sheffil couldn’t help but chuckle.

His clenched fists relaxed, and he put on a friendly expression.

“Scammed? Are you serious?”

Green Hair scoffed.

“This is a design personally sold by President Sheffil! What would you know about Miss Dorothy compared to her?”

“Boss, I think this guy’s not all there in the head. Hahaha!”

“Totally, totally!”

The group burst into laughter, mocking Sheffil without restraint.

Sheffil… Mr.  Sheffil?!

Now he was truly stunned.

At first, he thought they were just using his name as a gimmick.

But someone was actually out there impersonating him—and apparently as a woman?

Seriously?

Are these guys real fans of Dorothy?

Or just fake ones?

They didn’t even know whether her childhood friend was a guy or a girl?

Well, that explains how they were tricked into buying these knockoff jackets that were clearly designed to scam the gullible.

“Boss, enough talking. This guy’s wearing a Jadecrest Academy uniform. Probably loaded. If we rob him, we’ll finally be able to afford that Dorothy poster Sheffil’s selling.”

The yellow-haired thug leered at Sheffil, his eyes crawling across him like a snail leaving a sticky trail.

They had spent a fortune on these jackets—enough to support a small family for a month in the capital.

It had taken the seven of them six months of manual labor just to afford them.

But then Sheffil—the fake one—immediately released a life-sized poster of Dorothy after selling the jackets.

As if the jackets weren’t enough, now they were going after the rest of their wallets too.

Sorry, brother.

We’re taking this one, whether you like it or not.

With that, all seven pairs of eyes turned cold and predatory.

In their hearts, they told themselves Dorothy would forgive them for this.

“Listen up, punk. I’ll give you a choice. Either you hand over your money, or we’ll help you hand it over.”

Green Hair tried to intimidate him.

If they could scare him into submission, there’d be no need for a fight.

Even though the guy in front of them was muscular, probably over 180cm, and clearly a Jadecrest Academy student, he hadn’t said a word in his defense.

Must be a pushover, right?

The more Green Hair thought about it, the more uncertain he felt.

Honestly, this was their first robbery, and their nerves were all over the place.

Damn it.

Judging by his sleeve stripes, he’s only a second-year.

We’re all Tier-3 warriors—how strong could one kid be?

“Today, huh? So that means… you know where this ‘Sheffil’ is?”

Sheffil glanced at the time.

Just past lunch.

Plenty of time.

He was curious to see which idiot was impersonating him.

And as for clues…

His gaze fell on the seven burly men in front of him, still trying to act tough.

For some reason, even though they had the clear advantage—seven against one—Green Hair and his gang suddenly felt a chill crawl down their spines.

One person.

Facing seven.

Just a sixteen-year-old second-year student.

Could this go wrong?

Could he actually flip this on them?

Could one person really do that?

Yes.

He could.

Sheffil clenched his fists.

Absolutely.

Green Hair let out a roar and charged.

It would be easy.

“Now then, shall we talk—about this ‘Mr. Sheffil’ business?”

Sheffil narrowed his eyes, flashing a friendly smile at Green Hair, who was now embedded in a wall.