He turned on the music player on his computer. His playlist contained nothing but classical music, and this morning he chose Bach. Nothing charged his mind like polyphony – two independent melodies existing in harmony together, like the two halves of the brain. Then he crossed to the wardrobe to get dressed. Inside, everything followed a perfect system, arranged by color, shape, and texture. He put on his favorite blue polo shirt, took his glasses from the drawer, and set them carefully on his nose before sitting down at the desk and opening his notebook. There he wrote:
Ability – Time control
Woke up – 84 seconds before alarm
Number of pre-awakenings before final awakening – 5
The pages were filled with observations like this, proof that he had been experimenting on himself for quite some time. The reason was simple – he wanted to become a scientist. Not an ordinary one, but someone capable of discovering something that would remain in history. Sometimes he imagined creating something like Mendeleev’s table. Sometimes he dreamed of describing the architecture of Hell the way Dante once had, or revealing the structure of dreams the way Dali had shown them in paint. Then the thought faded, and he returned to numbers. Another day, another challenge, another date, another entry in the notebook. After closing it, he packed his schoolbag, brushed his teeth, washed his face, went downstairs, took a banana from the kitchen, and stepped outside toward school. Everything had been calculated.
A banana was enough for breakfast because it contained enough carbohydrates to supply the brain with energy. The goal was not to eat for pleasure, but to charge the mind like a battery. That was why mornings meant a banana – unless his grandmother woke earlier and made porridge. Lunch was usually chicken with rice, dinner fish with vegetables. The entire diet had been worked out with precision – proteins, fats, carbohydrates, all balanced and recorded in the same notebook. His beloved grandmother knew the system well. She supported his habits and called him my little professor, and when she wanted to tease him, she called him DextOr German.
Eating his banana, German walked slowly down the street, studying everything around him with quiet curiosity. At one point, passing an alley, he suddenly stumbled and almost fell. The reason was simple – a problem shared by many brilliant minds: when their attention locked onto something important, everything else faded from view. In scientific circles the phenomenon was known as absent-mindedness. Our little professor suffered from it regularly. This time he had simply failed to notice a small hole in the pavement.
The stumble snapped his focus back to reality. People, cars, the smell of asphalt warming in the sun – and laughter. Loud, cruel laughter coming from the alley beside him. German glanced over and instantly recognized the type. Teenagers like that were best avoided. He considered them stupid and unpredictable, but unfortunately they rarely avoided him. Bullying had become one of the most unpleasant constants in his life. Normally he would have walked past and pretended not to notice anything. This time he almost did – until he heard a faint, desperate meow.
For a second his heart seemed to stop. His mind ran through the possibilities with mechanical speed. Someone was hurting an animal. What should I do? Call for help? But who? By the time I explain, it will be too late. No… I can’t waste time.
Fear was there, loud and sharp, but his body moved before the fear could take control. When his thoughts finally caught up with him, he was already standing inside the alley. Behind him a thin exhausted cat stood in front of a cardboard box filled with newborn kittens. Despite her weakness she hissed fiercely at the three teenagers in front of her – two boys and a girl. The girl had been poking the kittens with a stick.
German spread his arms wide, blocking the way. Stop. Leave them alone.
One of the boys smirked and shrugged. Well, since you asked so nicely… sure. We’re leaving. Sorry about that.
He jerked his head toward the street as if signaling the others to go. They turned slightly, taking a few lazy steps away. German lowered his arms and exhaled. For a brief moment pride flickered inside him.
Then the same boy spun around and grabbed him by the face.
His fingers dug hard into German’s cheeks while the second boy ripped the glasses from his face and tossed them aside.
Who the hell do you think you are, puppy?
Lost your mind, freak?
You think you can just walk in here and start giving orders? Watched too many superhero movies?
The boy gathered saliva in his mouth and spat directly into German’s face.
The shock was worse than the insult. The spit hit his eye and blurred his vision. Fear exploded through his body. This is hopeless… I’ve never been this scared… I’m going to die.
His body trembled uncontrollably. Warmth spread down his leg before he even realized what had happened. The laughter that followed was merciless.
The boy holding him shoved him away in disgust. Oh hell… look at you. Some hero.
German stood frozen in shame, barely able to breathe, not understanding what would happen next. For a moment he wished he could simply disappear.
The girl quickly understood what had happened. The boy was broken. Perfect.
She picked up the stick again and stepped toward the kittens.
German moved without thinking.
The swing landed hard on his collarbone as he stepped between her and the box. Pain shot through his body, but with his free hand he grabbed the stick and flung it aside.
At that exact moment the second boy drove a brutal kick into his stomach.
The air exploded out of his lungs. German collapsed onto the asphalt, scraping his palms open. Pain pulsed through his hands and ribs. His vision blurred. This is the end.
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Even with that thought echoing in his mind, he made one final decision. He curled his body over the box, shielding the kittens beneath him.
The kicks came immediately. One after another into his back while the two boys laughed. The girl grabbed his schoolbag and dumped everything onto the pavement.
A notebook slid out.
She picked it up and flipped it open with a mocking smile. Wow. Our little superhero is also a nerd. Lucky us.
The boys leaned closer as she read aloud: “Soon I’ll be able to control time…”
They burst out laughing.
The girl grinned. What do you think? Maybe we make a deal. We leave the kittens alone… and he does our homework for us.
One of the boys grabbed German by the hair and lifted his head from the ground. So what do you say, genius? You going to help us with our homework?
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, under the same morning sun, life on the quay was already in full swing. The ocean glittered beyond the promenade, and the avenue beside it was lined with small city stalls, each offering something different – pastries, grilled fish, sweets, steaming dough, spices drifting through the warm air. Vendors chatted as they opened their stands when suddenly one of them pointed down the street and called out, Gobby’s coming. Everyone get ready.
A cheerful, slightly dancing chubby boy appeared among the morning crowd, wearing a bright T-shirt and a funny-looking schoolbag. The vendors immediately recognized him. Everyone knew exactly why he came here – he was searching for something delicious. It was obvious he was one of their favorite customers. As he passed the stalls, voices rose from every direction: Want to try something from my stand today? – Fresh pastries here! – Best sweets on the quay!
Gobby smiled politely, thanked everyone, but continued forward with clear determination. Some vendors pretended to be offended, while others called after him, Tell us later where you stopped and how good it was! Soon the whole street turned it into a game, placing friendly bets on where Gobby would end up eating that day.
Then suddenly he froze. A smell cut through the noise of the street. Gobby turned sharply toward a bakery window and pressed himself against the glass with wide eyes. Today I choose… Empanadas de Pino!
The vendors repeated the name in chorus. Empanadas de Pino! Bets were settled immediately and several voices groaned in mock disappointment. The baker, spotting Gobby at the window, lit up with joy and threw open the door. Today is a blessed day! Thank God my shop was chosen!
He welcomed Gobby inside like an honored guest. Gobby, what would you like to see today?
I want to hear everything about the fillings.
The baker enthusiastically began describing every pastry and how it had been prepared. Gobby listened with complete seriousness and then started announcing his choices, calling every single pastry Empanadas de Pino, simply adding the filling: Empanadas de Pino with chocolate! – Empanadas de Pino with caramel!
To him every filled pastry was Empanadas de Pino, ever since he had heard the name once on a cooking show and decided it was the most delicious phrase in existence.
After spending all his money on pastries, Gobby left the bakery radiating happiness. The vendors waved and called after him, See you tomorrow, Gobby! Walking along the promenade, he took a bite of one pastry and a drop of jam immediately landed on his favorite T-shirt – the one proudly reading I am Gobby.
He stopped in confusion. The half-eaten pastry was in one hand, a bag full of pastries in the other, and now jam was spreading across the fabric. For a moment he stood there completely lost, trying to decide where to put the pastry, how to hold the bag, and how to wipe the stain at the same time.
Then a sound cut through the noise of the street.
A child’s desperate cry. A kitten’s sharp, frightened wail. And cruel laughter.
Gobby immediately forgot about the T-shirt.
There were only two things in the world he loved more than anything: delicious food… and animals.
He turned toward the alley and walked quickly toward the sound. As he approached, the voices became clearer, the laughter harsher. Then he saw what was happening. A boy lay curled on the ground, shielding a box with his body. A thin exhausted cat stood beside it, hissing weakly. Three teenagers loomed above him. The bullies were laughing so loudly they never even noticed Gobby approaching.
The girl raised the stick again and swung down with all her strength. The blow landed – but not where she expected. Instead of the boy, the stick struck something solid. A broad back suddenly filled the space in front of her. The end of the stick scraped across a thick neck, leaving a shallow scratch, while the rest of the blow bounced off a bright T-shirt and a bulky schoolbag.
Without even glancing at the bullies, Gobby stepped forward, passed them, and crouched beside the boy, completely shielding him with his large frame. He placed a hand gently on the boy’s back. You’re a brave one. Protecting the weak like that. Noticing the terror in the boy’s eyes, the first idea that came to him was simple. He pulled a pastry from the bag and held it out. Want one?
For a moment the alley fell silent. The sheer absurdity of what had just happened froze the bullies in place. The first to recover was the boy who had spat earlier. He burst out laughing and pointed at the girl. Cate, you’re unbelievable. Maybe you should stop swinging that stick. Every time you do, some half-baked hero shows up. Who’s next, Superman? The others joined in, laughing loudly.
The second boy snatched the stick from the girl’s hands. Hey, fatso. Where do you think you’re going? He swung the stick threateningly in front of Gobby, trying to scare him, but there was no reaction. No movement. No fear. Irritated, he began whipping the stick across Gobby’s back with sharp snapping sounds. The blows landed again and again, but Gobby didn’t even flinch.
The girl shoved the boys aside, clearly losing patience, and pointed toward a nearby trash bin. The second boy rummaged inside and pulled out an empty beer can. He held it up. The girl nodded approvingly. A second later the can flew through the air and struck Gobby squarely on the head, splashing the remaining beer all over him – and all over his favorite T-shirt.
Gobby quickly stuffed the half-eaten pastry and the bag of pastries into the boy’s hands, jumped to his feet, and began frantically wiping the spreading stain. The bullies howled with laughter. When he finally realized the stain was hopeless and that only washing could save the shirt, he lifted his head and looked at them. Please leave.
Screw you, fatso, the girl snapped, ordering the others to keep going.
Inside Gobby’s mind a quick calculation flashed by. If they continued, the shirt would be torn, the pastries would end up on the ground, and the boy and the kittens would suffer even more. Something shifted inside him. Sweat broke across his forehead. His breathing changed – short inhalations, long steady exhalations. His skin flushed deep red as the temperature of his body seemed to rise. Before the bullies’ eyes his body tightened, shrinking slightly as veins and tendons stood out sharply beneath the skin.
Then he moved.
In a single explosive burst he lunged forward and drove his shoulder into the boy standing by the trash bin like a rugby tackle. The impact slammed the bully into the metal container and knocked him unconscious instantly.
The second boy turned and ran – but Gobby was already behind him. A sharp strike to the legs sent the runner airborne. Two powerful hands caught him mid-fall and smashed him down onto the pavement. Another body lay still.
Gobby slowly turned toward the girl. She backed away, panic replacing arrogance. You can’t hit a girl, she pleaded desperately. Boys aren’t supposed to hit girls!
Gobby stepped closer and grabbed both her wrists in a crushing grip. She winced in pain and instantly understood she wasn’t escaping. He leaned in close, almost nose to nose with her, clearly preparing to say something dramatic – but before he could speak she spat directly into his face.
Gobby wiped his cheek slowly. People like you only understand fear and power.
Without warning he slammed his forehead straight into the bridge of her nose. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her face and groaning in pain.
For a few seconds Gobby stood completely still, as if checking something inside himself. Then he turned toward the boy and smiled warmly. It’s all good now.
But the moment he said it, he glanced behind him and suddenly frowned. Aw… come on. How did that happen?