Supreme Magus

No matter if you are a pessimist or an optimist, Derek McCoy's life wasn't a good one nor a bad one. It was just a mediocre, insignificant existence.

His father was bipolar, during his depressive state he would disappear into his bedroom for days, only to emerge solely to eat, use the bathroom and the occasional 'let's make your life miserable' fit of rage.

During his euphoric phase, he would work like a madman, but not having any talent as either a businessman nor as a social climber, he was unable to become successful and establish connections.

Whenever he decided to actually take his medication, he was just a couch potato that would stand up and go to work only to avoid the blame and spite from neighbours and peers.

Whatever was his mental condition, he was always a perfect example of an abusive father.

His sons were always a disgrace in his eyes.

They never studied hard enough, were never disciplined enough, nor showed enough respect.

And he was always there to remind them how wrong they were.

He would yell at them for the slightest mistake, constantly reminding them that they were just parasites, leeching off his hard work.

And when words weren't enough, or when they did fail to meet his expectations with school grades or chores, there was no teacher like his leather belt.

Hence, Derek and Carl had learned quickly how to fend for themselves. Their absent-minded mother practically forgot about them right after giving birth, dedicating her life to the pursuit of peace and quiet, staying as far as possible from her spouse's tantrums.

Derek was two years older, and he desperately tried to take care of his little brother, but to no avail.

They grew up watching and reading stories about heroes protecting the weak and upholding justice, but no hero ever appeared to save them.

So they simply stopped believing in heroes and instead of wasting time with prayers, they crammed.

School was their oasis, but that lasted only until the sixth grade.

Once in middle school, it didn't even take a month before the bullying started.

Their cheap clothes and gloomy disposition made them easy targets. They were so used being tossed around and insulted that they didn't even bother trying to fight back.

For a long time, Derek considered it the worst time in his useless life. After a month, he knew he could not take any more of this, so he tried to make things better.

He reported his father's abuses to social services with an anonymous email, but being overworked and understaffed, the social worker made a brief visit and never came back.

Then he tried to end the bullying by reporting their aggressors to a teacher, who in turn washed her hands by reporting it to the principal. The principal did not want to meddle in what he deemed as childish pranks. He called Derek's parents to inform them of the problem, hoping they would let it slide, and at least his wish came true.

Derek took an extra beating for not being man enough to face his own problems instead.

"Are you really so stupid that you never learned anything from me? Never delegate! If you want something done right, do it yourself!"

The next day, he felt different, clearheaded like never before. It was not the time for despair anymore, he needed a plan.

It would take him years to realize that something inside him had died. He was no longer able to trust, hope, or develop any sense of kinship. He was surrounded by enemies and to survive he needed to be able to fight back.

So, Derek asked his father to let him join a dojo and learn martial arts. To his surprise, he did not have to beg or even ask twice. Derek's old man was glad that his wimpy and scrawny poor excuse for a child was finally interested in becoming a man. His only condition was that Derek was not allowed to quit for at least one year, otherwise he would have to pay for it.

Not only did Derek start practicing aikido almost daily, he would also wake up two hours earlier every single day to build muscles doing push ups, squats, sit ups and running until he was out of breath.

In a few months he was finally able to do 100 push ups, sit ups, squats and run for at least 10 kilometres every day before going to school.

Aikido soon revealed to be a perfect choice for his situation. At low level, it was mainly focused on self defence, but there was plenty of space for attacking and fighting dirty.

By practicing martial arts, he finally discovered something he was good at. He was not particularly nimble, nor a fast learner. His hand to eye coordination was also average at best. His talent lied in the ability to spot the best time to hit a sensible spot during a block or a defensive manoeuvre.

Even when the sensei was teaching sword or tanto arts, Derek was always able to grasp the killer moves on his first try, sometimes even before the sensei completed the practical demonstration.

It was an exciting yet disappointing discovery, since his only talent had no practical use. Even if aikido had been a sport with tournaments instead of a discipline, hits to the groin, eyes and trachea were universally forbidden.

At the end of the first semester, Derek stopped hiding from the bullies and started replying in kind to every single insult they threw at him, using the best quick-witted roast lines he had found online. Derek was careful to never go to the bathroom or to remain alone for too long, always keeping an a.d.u.l.t witness in line of sight.

It did not even take a full day before his enemies were gunning for him. Only when the veins almost popped out their necks, he threw his bait.

"I have had enough of your sh*t, as*holes. Meet me in an hour behind the grocery store between Lincoln and the 3rd. Or are you too scared?"

"Since you're cruising for a bruising, I will happily grant your wish you fag*ot. It will only be you and the three of us, alright?"

Derek nodded without believing him in the least. He was right.

When they entered the back alley, they had brought along two more people.

Derek was waiting for them, leaning up against the wall at the end of the blind alley.

"There you are. I was starting to think you would stand me up."

They started laughing. "Sorry we were late. Hope you do not mind us inviting some friends to the party."

"No problem. No matter how many, worthless trash is always trash. I chose this alley because it's fully equipped with enough dumpsters to accommodate all of your friends."

The last line hit a nerve, they charged at him blindly.

"Gang up on him guys! Do not let him escape! Let's show him who the real trash is."

And so, they fell into his trap. Derek had already prepared the terrain, right after choosing the best spot for the fight. A blind alley only has one way out, and as they approached the end of the alley, they were no longer able to see the tripwire Derek set due to the dim light.

The first two fell down hard on the concrete, and those behind them were so worried about not trampling on their friends that they never saw the steel pipe coming.

They came in numbers, Derek had come armed. Using the pipe as a club, he quickly hit them respectively on the head, the side of the knee and in the groin. Only then he started hitting the two that were trying to get back on their feet.

While they were m.o.a.ning and sobbing on the ground, he used a small knife to cut the trip wire, then started beating them again and again with the metal pipe, giving special attention to the nether regions.

Deep inside, he knew what he was doing was wrong, but he could not care less. If the world was bound to be unfair, the only possible course of action was to make it unfair to his advantage.

So, he took out the taser that he borrowed from his father, and tased all of them until they fell unconscious. Then he stripped them completely and took multiple photos of each one of them.

"Sorry to ruin your Brokeback Mountain moment girls, but I need your attention for a minute."

When the bullies woke up, they were in so much pain they barely noticed they were n.a.k.e.d and embracing each other. Retorting to Derek while he still had a firm grip on the steel pipe was out of question, so they kept quiet and listened.

"I have made quite a scrapbook out of you all, even a short movie, uploaded everything to my computer and even into the cloud. It would be terrible if someone, I do not know, like me for example, would upload them on all the biggest image hosting sites. You know what they say, the internet never forgets."

The bullies started crying and begging.

"Imagine how terrible it would be! Whenever someone would Boogle your names, be it your grandma, your girlfriends or even the colleges you were willing to apply to, the first thing to appear would be those photos!"

"Dude, no!" "Please, I do not even know you. I was just doing a favour for a friend!" "It was only a joke, please forgive me!"

The choir of begging gave him goosebumps. Derek wanted to puke at their hypocrisy.

"I do not care about your pathetic excuses! From this day onward, you will leave me alone. And you better pray that nothing happens to me, because the cloud is set so that if I do not enter the password every day, it will upload them everywhere."

Without waiting for their reply, he turned back and walked away.

"Almost forgot, I threw your clothes into random dumpsters, can't remember which clothes went where. If you don't want to go home in your birthday suit, you better start digging. So long suckers!"

Derek returned home euphoric, almost singing. He had never felt so proud of himself and had the completely undeserved confidence that he would never have to think about those b*stards ever again.