"We're going to carry out a simple plan. I'm going to get revenge. We'll sever our ties, and we're going to make a lot of money," Jamie declared, his voice steady with determination.

"Hey! Hey! But how?" Jay exclaimed, floating alongside Jamie as they walked down the snow-dusted main street. The ethereal cat glided effortlessly, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Jamie appeared focused, his gaze scanning the rows of wooden houses that stretched along the street. Each dwelling sported a triangular roof, from which fresh snow cascaded onto the cobblestone path. As they passed by, residents peeked through frosted windows, their expressions twisted with disdain.

"Your stepmother did a fine job turning the people here against you," James remarked, his tone laced with a hint of irony.

"What do you mean?" Jay asked, his tail flicking nervously.

"It's unlikely there's a single person who likes you. To them, you're worse than a leper," James replied bluntly.

Jay paused for a moment before one of the windows. As Jamie strode past, the man inside scowled and muttered under his breath, "That piece of filth is walking down the street."

Jamie remained unfazed; if anything, the hostility only seemed to fuel his resolve. He had no sympathy left for these people.

Near the end of the street, they approached a cluster of newer houses still under construction. Many stood half-finished, skeletal frames that would scarcely be completed before winter tightened its icy grip.

"Do you know what the best weapon is?" Jamie asked, glancing at the floating cat.

"A sword, without a doubt," Jay answered confidently.

"Wrong. A sword might be elegant and versatile, sure. It has its advantages but also some clear disadvantages," Jamie countered as he stepped into the construction site.

He weaved through the scattered planks and protruding nails on the ground. The air smelled of fresh-cut timber and cold metal.

"The best weapon is, without a doubt, a simple stick," the boy explained, picking up a length of wood from the ground. It was nearly the size of a baseball bat, though a bit thinner.

"A stick? Impossible. It breaks easily," Jay scoffed.

"Only if it's made of poor wood. If it's solid, it can withstand a good hit. And if it breaks, it becomes an even better weapon—now it has one or several sharp points," Jamie said, examining different pieces of wood and swinging them experimentally until he found one that suited him.

"But the main advantage is the ease of finding one, replacing it, and training with it. Who doesn't understand how a stick works? You hold one end and strike your opponent with the other," Jamie continued, a Machiavellian smile spreading across his face.

The wind picked up, swirling snowflakes around them as Jamie gripped the stick firmly. "Besides, no one ever suspects the power of something so simple," he added softly.

Jay watched him, eyes reflecting the gray winter sky. "So, what's the plan?" he asked.

Jamie turned to face the town that had shunned him, his gaze hardened. "First, we gather what we need. Then, we make them remember why they should have feared us."

Jamie walked back along the same street toward the town center; his footsteps light upon the snow as he dragged a wooden stick by his side. Returning to the main square, he sifted through Jay's memories, searching for anything that might aid them.

"What are you looking for?" Jay asked, floating alongside him.

"Do you remember where Leo was heading?" Jamie inquired.

"Uh... didn't he just come to beat me up?" Jay replied, his tail flicking nervously.

"You can't be serious. Who would travel from another town just to pick on you?" Jamie scoffed. "No, he and that girl were carrying a bag. Frosthaven, Frosthaven... They deal in furs, don't they?"

"Yes. It's his family's specialty," Jay nodded.

"Alright, let's start there." Jamie headed toward one of the narrow alleyways. "What I'm going to teach you today will be very useful, especially when I'm no longer here."

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"Not here anymore?" Jay echoed, eyes widening.

"Yes. I'll complete this mission without any trouble. You'll regain your body, and I'll return to my world," Jamie explained. "So, listen up. If someone is giving you a hard time and you just let them push you around, accepting it like a beaten dog, sooner or later they'll realize you won't fight back because they think you're weak."

Jay lowered his gaze. "But I am weak."

"No, you're a coward. Even a harmless animal, when cornered, knows how to become a beast," Jamie said sternly.

Jay felt unsettled at being called a coward but couldn't find the words to argue.

"You need to show that you can be fierce, too. Even if you're outmatched, make it clear that if someone messes with you, you'll make them regret it," Jamie concluded, a fierce glint in his eyes.

A myriad of emotions flickered across Jay's face before he asked, "How on earth were you brought into this world? Weren't only good people supposed to come?"

"Maybe I'm very good at being evil," Jamie replied with a sly smile.

"Perhaps. But you certainly lack humility," Jay remarked.

Jamie glanced at the floating cat and shrugged.

After several minutes of walking, Jamie and Jay finally located one of the city's few fur shops. Oddly enough, none of these shops were close to one another. Upon reaching the first shop, Jamie peered through the front window but found it empty.

Without wasting time, he continued on to the second shop.

When they arrived, the owner was outside, brushing away the snow that had accumulated at his doorstep.

Jamie paused for a moment to ask, "Has Leo passed by here?"

"Who wants to know?" the owner replied, glancing up. He recognized Jamie and let out a slight gasp before turning his attention back to his work. "He just left," he muttered.

"Right." Without a word of thanks, Jamie headed toward the last shop. Quickening his pace so as not to lose Leo, he began to hurry.

At the end of the street, the final shop came into view. Jamie spotted Lilian Frostwall seated atop a wagon outside, furs of various monsters piled among their belongings. She appeared absorbed in sorting the pelts that were to be sold.

Inside the shop, Leo was conversing with the shopkeeper. They laughed and chatted amiably, the easy banter between a vendor and his supplier. Fortuitously for Jamie, his infamy in the town was such that people preferred to ignore him, even though he walked openly with a potential weapon in his hand.

As he crossed to the other side of the street, Jamie noticed a few soldiers patrolling near the shop district. However, they were not close enough to interfere with his plans.

Each step crunched softly upon the snow-covered ground. Jamie tried to tread lightly, hoping to remain unnoticed. As he slipped through the archway of the shop's entrance, he avoided drawing attention, though he caught the flicker of recognition and concern in the shopkeeper's eyes upon seeing him.

Leo had not yet turned to see who was behind him, giving Jamie the perfect opportunity. "Leo! Long time no see; I came to deliver what you asked for," Jamie called out, his voice unnaturally cheerful.

Leo turned, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he recognized the voice but found its tone unexpected. Yet before he could respond, the world seemed to slow.

Jamie saw glowing words materialize before his eyes.

| Attack of Opportunity

Seizing the moment, Jamie swung the wooden stick in a swift, wide arc. The improvised weapon connected squarely with Leo's face. The force of the blow splintered the tip of the stick, sending shards of wood and a spray of blood into the air.

Leo stumbled backward, a look of shock and pain contorting his features. The laughter died in the shopkeeper's throat as he recoiled in horror. Outside, Lilian's head snapped up at the sound of the commotion.

Breathing heavily, Jamie stood over Leo, his eyes cold and unyielding. The broken remnants of the stick were clenched tightly in his fist.

From the shadows, Jay hovered anxiously, his feline eyes wide with disbelief. "What have you done?" he whispered.

Jamie did not waver. ‘Sometimes you need to show them you're not to be trifled with,’ he thought.

Leo groaned, blood staining the shop’s floor. The shopkeeper edged toward the door, torn between aiding Leo and escaping the fearsome glare of Jamie.

Lilian leaped off the wagon, recognizing the danger. "Jamie! Stop this madness!" she cried out, rushing toward them.

But Jamie's gaze remained fixed on Leo. "Remember this, Leo," he said coolly. "Actions have consequences."

The distant sound of footsteps grew louder—the soldiers must have heard the disturbance.

But before the soldiers could reach them, Jamie swung the stick again, gripping the side without splinters. He continued his assault on Leo, each strike sending more blood splattering across the walls and floor of the shop.

Leo had raised his arms in a futile attempt to shield himself, panic stark in his eyes. Perhaps he had never imagined that Jamie would have the courage to stand up to him—never thought that someone he considered beneath him would dare to fight back.

From the corner of his eye, Jamie saw Lilian screaming for the soldiers to intervene, her voice shrilling with desperation. The clamor outside grew louder, but he paid it no mind.

‘She can't do anything against me without defying the lord,’ Jamie thought, seizing upon the slim margin of leeway his tenuous status provided.

Finally, he felt several strong hands grabbing him, pulling him away from Leo, and dragging him toward the door. The soldiers had arrived, their faces stern beneath their helms. But before they could haul him outside, Jamie wrenched one arm free and shot his cousin a defiant glare.

He raised his hand and extended his middle finger—hoping this was a universal gesture. "Go to hell, you piece of shit!" Jamie shouted. "If you show up in front of me again, I'll beat the crap out of you!"