My Girlfriends Are Hardcore Yanderes

On the side of the road, the elderly woman sat in despair.

Her hope of recovering her stolen money dwindled with each moment.

She had already reported the incident to the police, but they only said they would look into it.

"Excuse me, can I borrow your phone?" she asked a young man, but he hurried past without a word.

Her chest tightened. Her daughter would scold her for losing the money meant for her hospital check-up.

She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain calm. 'I have to call her, ' she reminded herself, fighting back tears.

Then, out of nowhere, a tall man approached her.

Her eyes widened as she spotted her bag in his hand.

"That's my bag! Thank you so much!" the elderly woman exclaimed, tears welling in her eyes.

With trembling hands, she quickly rummaged through her bag. 

To her astonishment, everything was still there—the money remained untouched.

Overwhelmed with gratitude and confusion, she looked up to express her heartfelt thanks to the tall man who had come to her rescue.

But as she lifted her gaze, he had mysteriously disappeared.

Was he an angel, a stranger passing by, or just a kind-hearted soul lending a helping hand?

The question lingered in her mind, but she knew one thing for certain—her faith in humanity had been restored.

***

"Give me some of these... and those," Asher said, pointing at random, picking out a mix of fruits.

Though it was pricey, he felt it was okay to splurge a little.

By the end, he had spent 500 credits on three oranges, three apples, three mangoes, and twelve bananas.

"Boy, you're in good spirits today," a male vendor chuckled, while putting the fruits in a plastic bag. 

Asher always bought fruit from his stall, but only in small amounts. This was the first time he had purchased so much at once.

"Yeah, I found some money in an alley," he replied with a casual nod.

"Lucky you,"

Having known Asher since he was just a kid, the vendor had a straightforward opinion: He's a nice kid. 

Unlike many thugs, Asher still showed respect to his elders and didn't act arrogant or overbearing.

He fought occasionally, but only in self-defense, as many fools tried to challenge him for a shot at popularity.

In the end, those who dared to confront him found themselves face down on the asphalt.

"Boy, why don't you join a gym and become a fighter? I've heard that pros can make a lot of money."

"I'm not a fan of fighting," he shook his head. 

The vendor let out a chuckle, amused that someone so talented in fist fighting actually hated it.

"You're a natural, yet you want nothing to do with it," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's quite the contradiction,"

"Yeah," Asher replied with one word, not wanting to explain himself further.

Seeing this, the vendor decided not to dwell on the topic any longer. He understood that there might be a reason behind it. 

"Take these with you," the vendor said, handing a dozen apples. Their color wasn't as vibrant as the others.

Seeing Asher hesitate, the vendor added, "They'll just rot if you leave them here, so it's better if you take them."

"Thank you," Asher bowed his head.

Since the apples were free and not in the best shape, it made more sense to accept them than to refuse the offer

Having bought everything he needed at the marketplace, he made his way to the grocery store for some cup noodles and other essentials.

With that done, he headed for the train station, knowing he had a few things to take care of before returning to his apartment.

As he stepped inside, the lively sounds of people filled the air.

He looked up at the departure board, checking the train schedules, then headed toward the ticket counter. 

When it was finally his turn, he approached the clerk.

"I need a ticket to the West End station," 

The clerk nodded and quickly printed the ticket. After paying, he tucked it into his pocket and glanced at the clock.

He had a little time before the train departed, so he quickly headed towards the platform. 

As he stood, he noticed a group of girls whispering to each other, blushing as they glanced his way.

He ignored them, used to this kind of attention by now.

"Hi! My friends think you're cute, so we were wondering if you could give us your number?" one girl in a red high school uniform with a short checkered skirt approached him.

But he didn't even look at her. When the train doors opened, he just walked inside. 

He found an empty seat by the window and settled in.

'Romance is a waste of time,' he muttered to himself, and leaned back in his seat.