Chapter 1 (I'm not going to be bullied by a girl)

I'm not going to be bullied by a girl, Chapter 1: The tyrant who has always bullied me from childhood is actually a girl? My lifelong nemesis.

All males have their old enemies in their lives.

At least, the 14-year-old me firmly believed so.

Speaking of my nemesis, it was probably our neighbour's child, the one nicknamed 'Small Tyrant'.

It's slightly embarrassing, but I was a former victim under his bullying once.

Although he was the same age as me, he was taller by a full head above me.

He would easily knock me to the ground with a few punches and kicks before snatching the precious things in my hand with his hallmark evil grin.

The list of my 'precious things' over the few years are as of follows:

Snacks,

Balls,

Manga,

Water guns,

A police officer cap,

Transformer toys, numbering 25 when totalled,

Kicking me into the river while I was absorbed in fishing,

Pulling away my chair just when I was about to sit,

Spit on me when I fell into a pitfall trap,

Forced me to eat bread sprinkled with hot pepper (or chilli) powder,

Squeezing a crab into the back of my shirt collar from behind,

In a nutshell, the suffering I had experienced under his hands were hard to explain in just a few words. For the immature me then, he was a terrifying existence akin to the likes of Godzilla.

I'm already in the second grade of middle school this year. Next year I'll be in the third grade, and before I graduate, I want to settle it with the Small Tyrant.

If not, I would always have this mental shadow of fear throughout my entire life.

(Tler's note: This is rather hard to explain in English, but think of it as trauma.)

Therefore, I had sent him a letter of challenge three days prior.

We had been relocated after the high-rise building we had lived in had been demolished. Although we were no longer neighbours, his house was still in the same city district as mine. If I took the subway, it would only take two stops to reach his house.

The challenge letter should have reached him by now.

I invited him to a duel, one on one. The loser of the bout needed to kowtow at the winner's foot and recognise his mistakes. He also needed to return all the stolen toys back.

Of course, I had never actually stolen any toys from him -- but didn't justice always prevail?

The location of the fight was agreed to be at the back of the boiler plant. The time of the fight was 9, a time where nobody could disturb us.

I purposely chose a location closer to his home so that if he lost, it would be easier to retrieve the stolen toys.

Don't get me wrong, I'm 14 and I have no need for transformer toys anymore. However, retrieving these stolen toys are like medals of my honour and courage.

Come to think of it, I haven't seen Small Tyrant in three years already.

I remember that he grew up in a single-parent family like me. While I detested him, I had a good impression of his mother -- Auntie Ren.

Auntie Ren was extremely young and beautiful (Because she looked so young, she seemed closer to an older sister than an auntie), an idol in the hearts of many young males. Furthermore, Small Tyrant did not dare bully me in front of his mom whenever she was around.

Auntie Ren was also an MMA champion, which was why it's no surprise Small Tyrant's this impressive too.

In comparison, my old man was only a glasses indoorsman. He opens an online website (Taobao) and sells all kinds of censored goods. So embarrassing!

I wonder how Small Tyrant passed these three years. Our heights won't have such a huge gap anymore will it?

On the winter where I confronted Small Tyrant for the last time three years ago, the pure snowflakes drifting from the sky had left such a deep impression on me that I had forgotten the fight.

At that time, I had almost caught up to Small Tyrant's height. To defeat him, I had done a little secret training. The outline of the muscle on my arm was slightly bigger.

Hence, I had decided not to endure any longer.