A Bizarre Journey ep 6: I Came, I Saw, I Forced Him Into Therapy

My name is not Loc. My name is Quan. Nguyen Van Quan.

Ever since I was little, I’ve looked up to my brother Loc like he was my personal hero.

People always find it funny when I say that. He’s lazy, sarcastic, and treats effort like a deadly disease. But there was one moment in our childhood that burned into my memory forever.

I was in Grade 5, small, scrawny, and an easy target. A big bully named Hoang and his gang made my life hell. They stole my lunch money, pushed me around, and humiliated me daily.

The worst day came when Hoang tore up my favorite notebook — the one I spent months drawing superheroes in — and laughed while throwing the pieces in my face in front of the whole class. I cried the entire way home.

That evening, I told Loc everything while sobbing. I expected him to get angry, maybe even go fight Hoang. Instead, he just lay on the couch, sighed deeply, and muttered, “What a pain in the ass…”

I went to bed thinking my brother didn’t care.

But the next morning, Loc actually woke up before 7 AM — a miracle I had never witnessed. He walked me to school in silence, his face blank as usual. When we reached the gate, he told me to go to class.

During morning break, Hoang appeared with his gang, ready for another round of torture.

That’s when Loc showed up.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t throw punches. He simply walked straight up to Hoang — who was much bigger — looked him dead in the eyes with that signature deadpan expression, and spoke in a low, calm voice that somehow carried across the entire corridor:

“Touch my brother again, and I’ll make sure the whole school knows you still wet your bed every night. I have photos. Your mom showed them to Auntie Hoa last week. Want me to make them public?”

The hallway went dead silent.

Hoang’s face turned ghostly white. His gang slowly backed away. The bully who had terrorized me for months started trembling.

Loc didn’t stop there. He leaned in slightly and delivered the finishing blow with ice-cold sarcasm:

“Also, next time you want to act tough, maybe stop crying to your mom every night. Pathetic.”

Hoang never touched me again. In fact, he started avoiding me like I had a contagious disease.

I later found out Loc had stayed up late that night asking around the neighborhood until he gathered enough dirt on Hoang. He didn’t use violence. He used pure, calculated, lazy psychological warfare — and it was terrifyingly effective.

That day, I realized something important: My brother might hate effort more than anything… but when it came to protecting me, he was willing to do the one thing he despised most.

He got off the couch.

From then on, no matter how messy, pathetic, or chaotic Loc’s life became, I promised myself I would always repay him. Even if it meant dragging him kicking and screaming into a better life.

---

I got the address from Minh yesterday. That guy was all too happy to sell out my brother for “the greater good.”

Armed with two large suitcases and unshakeable determination, I stood in front of room 4B on the fourth floor. Without knocking, I took a deep breath and kicked the door open with a loud bang.

“LOC!!! YOUR SAVIOR HAS ARRIVED!”

The room was even worse than I imagined. Clothes scattered everywhere like a battlefield after a war of laziness. Empty instant noodle bowls stacked on the table. And that damn broken ceiling fan was still spinning weakly above the bed, creaking like it was on its last breath.

Loc was lying face-down on the couch in nothing but an old T-shirt and boxer shorts, one arm hanging limply to the floor. He didn’t even flinch at the sound of the door.

I marched straight over, grabbed his ankle, and yanked him hard.

“Wake up! It’s 10 AM! The sun is shining, life is waiting, and your youth is rotting away!”

Loc let out a long, suffering groan that sounded like a dying whale. He refused to open his eyes.

“Quan… I swear on our ancestors, if you don’t leave in the next five seconds, I’m going to adopt you out to Auntie Năm as her grandson…”

I ignored him completely and started unzipping the suitcases like a man on a holy mission.

“Today is the launch of Operation: Save My Pathetic Brother! Phase One —”

“Phase Zero: Get the hell out of my house!” Loc suddenly sat up, hair looking like a bird’s nest, eyes filled with pure panic and betrayal. “I did not survive the fan apocalypse, the whisker plague, and the corporate sports day just to be attacked in my own home by my own blood!”

He tried to crawl back onto the couch like it was a safe zone.

I grabbed his leg again.

“No escape! Look at this place! It’s not a room, it’s a biohazard zone! Even cockroaches file complaints!”

Loc hugged the couch cushion desperately, refusing to let go.

“Quan, listen to me. I am perfectly happy living as a disappointment. This is my final form. My peak. My masterpiece of laziness. I don’t need saving. I need sleep. And maybe death. Death sounds nice right now.”

I pulled out the new stylish black shirt and waved it like a battle flag.

“Too bad! I already created your dating profile. The bio is fire. ‘Mysterious man with a tragic ceiling fan backstory seeking emotional support and someone who can tolerate extreme levels of sarcasm.’”

Loc’s face twisted in horror.

“You did WHAT?! Delete it right now or I’m disowning you! I’ll tell mom you’re the one who broke her favorite vase in 2017!”

I grinned and plugged in the ring light.

“Threats won’t work. The group chat ‘Rescue Loc’ already has 34 members. Ms Lan is bringing cakes too. We’re turning you from a human potato to ‘Husband Material’ in one day!”

Loc finally let go of the couch and tried to crawl toward the bathroom to lock himself in.

“Minh, you little traitor! You sold me out, didn’t you?! When this is over, I’m going to tie you both to that damn ceiling fan and let it spin you into another dimension!”

I cheerfully dragged him back by the collar.

“Let’s go, hero! Cold shower first to awaken your dead romantic soul! Your little brother believes in you!”

Loc looked like he was attending his own funeral.

“I hate you. I genuinely, deeply hate you.”

“Love you too, bro. See you in ten minutes.”

I left Loc desperately trying to barricade himself in the bathroom and went downstairs to “manage” the situation. Big mistake.

The lobby had already turned into a full-blown war room. More than thirty residents were gathered. Ms Lan brought cakes, Auntie Năm brought sugarcane juice, and someone even dragged out a whiteboard with the words “Loc’s Love Life Rescue Plan” written in big red letters.

I tried to take control.

“Everyone, calm down! My brother just needs a little… motivation. He’s shy, that’s all!”

But the chaos had its own momentum.

Someone shouted, “He’s been single for too long! We need to help him!”

Another auntie added, “I have a niece who’s perfect for him!”

Before I could stop it, the group chat “Rescue Loc” exploded with photos of single girls, suggested date spots, and even a poll: “Should we organize a surprise group date for Loc?”

I was still trying to calm them when the elevator door opened.

Tram walked in carrying a bag of groceries. The moment she appeared, the aunties’ eyes lit up like they had found the chosen one.

“Tram! You’re single, right?” Ms Lan immediately latched onto her arm. “Perfect! You’re around the same age as Loc upstairs. Very suitable!”

Tram blinked, clearly confused. “Wait… Loc? The guy on the fourth floor?”

I saw my chance and, in my excitement, spoke without thinking.

“Yeah! He’s actually a very romantic person deep down. Back in high school he once—”

I stopped myself just in time. Tram’s sharp eyes suddenly narrowed at me. She clearly remembered everything.

Thankfully, no one else caught on.

The aunties didn’t need more encouragement. They swarmed Tram, pushing her gently toward the stairs while praising Loc’s “hidden charm” and “mysterious aura” (which was just him being too lazy to talk to people).

I tried to stop the runaway train.

“Wait, everyone! Let’s not rush—”

Too late.

Someone started playing wedding songs on their phone. Another person brought out flowers. Within minutes, a small procession was heading up the stairs toward Loc’s room, with Tram being half-guided, half-pushed in front like the main character of an arranged marriage drama.

I followed nervously.

When we reached Loc’s door on the fourth floor, the room was empty.

“Loc?” I called out. No answer.

The aunties started searching everywhere — under the bed, behind the couch, even inside the bathroom. Still nothing. The window was wide open, and the broken ceiling fan spun lazily as if mocking us.

Tram stood quietly at the doorway, arms crossed. At first she looked mildly curious, scanning the messy room with a small smirk. But as the minutes passed and Loc was nowhere to be found, her expression slowly shifted into clear disappointment.

She turned to me and said softly, but loud enough for the aunties to hear:

“He still hasn’t changed at all, huh? Running away again… Just like back then.”

Her words carried a quiet bitterness that made my stomach drop. The cheerful atmosphere in the hallway instantly cooled.

The aunties began murmuring in disappointment.

Just as the mood was about to die completely, a faint scraping sound came from outside the window.

Everyone turned.

There, climbing awkwardly back into the room from the narrow exterior ledge, was Loc — shirt half untucked, hair even messier than before, looking like a defeated burglar. He had clearly been hiding on the window ledge the entire time, pressed flat against the wall like a human gecko trying to escape his fate.

He froze mid-climb when he saw all of us staring at him.

An awkward silence filled the room.

Tram raised an eyebrow, her disappointment rapidly turning into amusement.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

Loc sighed deeply, still half-hanging outside the window.

“Can everyone just… pretend you didn’t see this?”

Loc landed awkwardly inside the room, brushed dust off his new shirt, and faced the crowd with the most exhausted expression I had ever seen.

He took a deep breath, looked straight at Tram, and spoke in his usual deadpan tone:

“Everyone… thank you for the enthusiasm, but I’m not looking for a girlfriend right now. I’m sorry for all the trouble today, especially to you, Tram. My brother got a bit carried away.”

The room fell silent.

Tram looked at him for a long moment, then gave a small, teasing smile.

“I don’t mind though,” she said lightly, but her eyes were sharp. “If it’s you… I don’t have any problem with it.”

For half a second, the entire room was stunned.

Then it exploded.

“WOOOOO!!!”

“Finally!!!”

“Get married already!!!”

“Big bro! I knew damn right you’ve still got some romantic charisma!!”

The aunties screamed in joy. Someone clapped so hard it sounded like thunder. The cheering was so loud and energetic that the old wooden floor vibrated, and the broken ceiling fan above us shook violently.

Suddenly, a crumpled piece of yellowed paper that had been stuck on top of the fan for who knows how long fluttered down and landed right at Tram’s feet.

She picked it up, unfolded it curiously… and froze.

Ms Lan—who happened to stand nearby—leaned in and read it out loud:

“Your eyes are like two bright stars.. Brighter than the stars I saw that night with you.. Please be my girlfriend..”

Tram’s cheeks slowly turned pink.

Before she could say a single word, Loc’s survival instinct kicked in at maximum level.

“Nope. Not today.”

In one swift motion, he turned, leaped back onto the window ledge like a panicked cat, and jumped straight out onto the emergency staircase outside.

“QUAN, YOU’RE DEAD TO ME!!!” he shouted as he sprinted down the stairs.

The entire room erupted into even louder cheers and laughter. Ms Lan was fanning herself dramatically while auntie Năm clapped like she had just watched a soap opera finale.

Tram stood there holding the old love letter, staring at the window where Loc had disappeared.

I grinned like an idiot.

Operation: Save My Pathetic Brother — Progress: 37%.

This was going better than I expected.