"Oh... I didn’t expect to see you here today," Mom blinked as Omnia approached.

  "When I said you’re not the only big name here today, I wasn’t talking only about myself," Judge added with a chuckle.

  "So," Omnia said playfully, her gaze flicking between Hana and me, "how many children do you have now, Carol?"

  "Just my son," Mom replied calmly. "She’s one of his friends."

  I glanced at Hana. Her usually blank, featureless face had taken on a noticeably darker shade. If she still had a normal face, she’d be blushing hard.

  "Um... what are you two standing around for?" Mom turned to us. "We don’t have all day. Go wrestle some furniture into submission. That's why we are here."

  "Follow me, kids," Judge said, already heading away from Mom and Omnia.

  "Damn it," Hana sighed as we walked off. "I can’t hear what they’re talking about from here."

  "Eavesdropping isn’t very polite," I said with a smirk.

  "Focus on the training," Judge added without slowing down. "We already have several items prepared for you. You’ll have a wide selection of furniture to fight. You can choose whatever you want."

  I started it.

  The first customer was a middle-aged man who looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

  "I just want a kitchen chair," he said nervously. "Something... calm that would bite my guests, my pets, or me."

  The staff opened a gate, and the chair sprinted out.

  It had four legs, but it used them wrong (two forward, two backward), skittering like a spider across the concrete floor. It jumped, twisting midair, and tried to slam into my chest.

  "Don’t strike it," Mom reminded me from somewhere behind the fence. "Control it."

  I sidestepped and grabbed one leg as it flew past. The momentum nearly tore my shoulder out of its socket, but I went with it, rolling instead of resisting.

  The chair thrashed, legs flailing.

  I remembered Mom’s words. Hips first. Balance first.

  I hooked my leg between two of its legs and dropped my weight onto the seat, forcing it flat against the floor. The chair bucked violently, trying to fold itself shut on me.

  I shifted my weight forward, pinning one leg under my knee, then wrapped my arms around the backrest and twisted.

  The wood creaked.

  The movement slowed.

  I tightened the hold, not harder, just cleaner, and the chair finally went still.

  The customer stared.

  "That was fast. Thank you."

  "Our staff would have done it faster, but not bad for an amateur," Judge remarked.

  I stood up, breathing hard. The customer walked to the freaky furniture. The chair remained where it was, perfectly normal now.

  Judge nodded. "Claim accepted. But feel free to call us if it starts to act weird. Some items tend to be rebellious."

  Hana's turn was next.

  "Alright, let's see who's gonna fight me." She grinned.

  Her first assignment was a reclining armchair. Plush. Brown. Innocent-looking.

  But it lunged like a predator jumping out from a rose bush.

  The footrest snapped out like a guillotine while the backrest slammed forward, trying to trap her torso.

  Hana ducked, slid sideways, and let the chair crash shut behind her.

  She didn’t strike it. She flowed.

  The chair tried to pivot, but Hana stepped onto the armrest, ran along it, and dropped her weight directly onto the back hinge.

  The recliner screamed.

  I mean literally. It actually screamed.

  It tried to fold inward on itself, crushing her legs, but Hana planted her feet and twisted, using the chair’s own folding mechanism against it.

  Metal groaned.

  She dropped into side control (yes, side control on a chair), pinning the backrest while twisting the footrest into a locked position.

  The chair shuddered and then stopped.

  Hana stood up and dusted herself off. "I usually hate furniture with moving parts, but this was fun."

  The customers applauded nervously.

  My turn was next, with a low, wide, and fast coffee table.

  It didn’t attack directly.

  It circled me.

  Then the legs detached.

  Four independent limbs skittered around while the tabletop spun like a shield.

  "Okay, that’s cheating." I pointed out.

  I overloaded my legs with kinetic energy and dashed forward, sliding under the spinning tabletop. It dropped instantly, trying to crush me.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  I rolled, caught the underside, and flipped it, using speed rather than strength.

  The detached legs leapt at me.

  I kicked one away, grabbed another midair, and slammed it into the tabletop, pinning it in place.

  The other two froze.

  I pressed my knee into the center of the table and twisted, applying pressure diagonally, misaligning the structure.

  The legs clicked back into place.

  The table went limp.

  Judge smiled faintly. "Good. You didn’t panic."

  Hana leaned in. "You looked like you were fighting a robot octopus."

  Her next opponent was a tall wardrobe.

  It opened its doors wide and vomited clothes.

  Scarves wrapped around her arms. Belts snapped at her ankles. Hangers flew like throwing knives.

  But Hana didn't panic.

  She let the scarves bind one arm, on purpose, then yanked hard, pulling herself into the wardrobe instead of away from it.

  Inside, it tried to slam shut.

  She braced her feet against the inner walls and forced it open wider, then dropped her center of gravity and sat.

  The wardrobe tipped.

  Hana rode it down, twisting mid-fall and landing on top as it hit the floor.

  She jammed one knee into the open door and grabbed the internal shelf, ripping it loose just enough to wedge the doors shut.

  The wardrobe stopped moving.

  She hopped off.

  "Submission," she announced.

  The customer, a young girl, looked pale. "I... I just needed somewhere to put coats."

  "This one not just contains but protects your clothes," Judge said.

  My upcoming partner was a dining table.

  This one fought dirty.

  It flipped itself upside down and used its legs like spears, stabbing repeatedly.

  I dodged, jumped, and slid under, but it adapted fast, too fast. I started to question the safety protocols. Do these guys have a license to sell these?

  One leg clipped my shoulder, sending me rolling.

  I forced myself to be calm.

  Control the base, I reminded myself.

  I grabbed one leg and overloaded my arms with kinetic energy, not to pull, but to anchor.

  The table tried to retreat, but couldn’t.

  I stepped in, wrapped my legs around the central beam, and twisted my hips, pulling the structure off-balance.

  The table slammed down.

  I climbed onto it, pinned two legs with my knees, and applied pressure to the central joint.

  The vibrations slowed.

  The table stilled.

  I lay there for a second, staring at the ceiling.

  "Good," Mom said semi-loudly to me while she was also chatting with Omnia. "You didn’t rush it."

  Hana's last one was a pink bed

  The bed tried to swallow her.

  The mattress folded, springs snapping like jaws, sheets wrapping around her waist.

  Hana let it happen.

  She rolled with the motion, slipped between the mattress and frame, and jammed her shoulder into the bed’s center, forcing the structure apart.

  She hooked one arm around the headboard, the other around the frame, and twisted in opposite directions.

  Wood cracked.

  The bed sagged.

  She climbed on top, pressed her knee into the mattress, and leaned forward until the springs finally gave up.

  The bed exhaled. Literally.

  "These are fun," Hana said at last, wiping sweat from her brow, "but can you give us an actual challenge, please?"

  "Careful," Mom warned, shooting her a sideways glance. "The more dangerous items are reserved for experienced staff. Don't be cocky."

  "Then show me the strongest one you have," Omnia said calmly.

  Judge hesitated, then nodded. "I'll check whether the customer for it is here." He walked off, speaking quietly into his phone.

  A moment later, he returned, this time accompanied by a familiar towering figure.

  The goth kaiju, Nyxelle.

  "Oh, hi, little ones," she greeted us, her voice gentle despite her size.

  "Wait, there’s furniture you couldn’t beat on your own?" Hana asked.

  "Oh, I can," Nyxelle replied easily. "But I tend to be... a bit too destructive when I fight. If I damage other merchandise, I’m required to buy it too."

  "Sounds like a hassle," Mom added.

  Omnia smiled. "Interesting. I’ll fight it for you, big girl."

  Nyxelle’s eyes lit up. "Really?"

  "Of course," Omnia said, rolling her shoulders. "I could use the exercise."

  "Very well," Judge said, already typing again. "I’ll tell the handlers to wake up the bed."

  A deep mechanical clunk echoed through the hall as one of the largest reinforced doors slowly slid open.

  Something enormous crawled out into the enclosure.

  It was a bed, but colossal in scale. Large enough that it would count as king-sized even for a kaiju like Nyxelle. Its frame was carved from dark wood into the shape of a massive beast. Clawed legs dug into the floor with every step. A dragon-like head jutted from the front, its wooden jaws flexing as if breathing. The blankets billowed and snapped behind it like wings.

  "Wow," Mom whistled. "An entire village could live on that thing. I’ve seen real dragons that weren’t half this big." She glanced at Nyxelle. "You sure that’s not a bit much for you?"

  "It’s for winter," Nyxelle said matter-of-factly. "I usually sleep in my nest, but it gets cold quickly. I need something warm."

  Omnia stepped forward, readying herself. "Don’t worry, kaiju kid. I’ll tame your bed."

  Beside me, Hana was visibly trembling, her hands clenched into fists.

  She looked like a child watching their favorite legend walk onto the stage.

  The bed-dragon roared.

  Flames burst from its carved wooden jaws, real fire spilling out in a wide cone that scorched the air and sent waves of heat rolling through the enclosure. The handlers behind the fence instinctively stepped back.

  "It can breathe fire?" Hana gasped.

  "Of course it can." Nyxelle smiled, "Why it would look like a dragon then?"

  Omnia didn’t flinch.

  She lifted one hand, palm forward. The fire curved unnaturally, bending away from her as if striking an invisible wall. The flames spiraled upward instead of outward, twisting into a controlled column above her head before she dispersed them with a flick of her wrist.

  "Fire-breathing," she noted calmly. "A cliche attack, but classic for a reason."

  The bed slammed one of its clawed legs into the floor, then charged. Its massive mattress-torso bounced, blanket wings snapping as it moved.

  Omnia stomped.

  The concrete beneath the bed rippled and rose, forming a sloped ramp just before impact. The bed’s charge carried it upward instead of forward, throwing off its balance. It skidded, claws scraping, barely avoiding flipping onto its side.

  Before it could recover, Omnia swept her arm sideways.

  A surge of compressed air struck the bed’s flank, not as a blast, but as a sustained push. The force shoved the creature across the enclosure, pinning it gently but firmly against the reinforced fence.

  Hana was hopping excitedly beside me as she watched.

  The bed snarled, its wooden head twisting as it exhaled another burst of flame, this one focused, hotter.

  Omnia countered by snapping her fingers.

  Moisture condensed instantly around the bed’s head, forming a dense cloud. The fire hit it and hissed violently, steam exploding outward. For a moment, the enclosure was filled with fog and heat.

  When the steam cleared, the bed shook itself free and leaped into the air, using its clawed legs like springs.

  "Hm, maybe I'll buy a bed later as well," Mom mused.

  Omnia smiled.

  As the bed descended, she raised both hands. The air thickened beneath it, slowing its fall, like it had landed on invisible gel. The impact was softened, redirected. The bed bounced, awkward and disoriented.

  Omnia took the opening.

  She slammed her foot down and pulled.

  The floor beneath the bed loosened, not breaking but flowing, turning granular like sand. The legs sank halfway in, locking its movement without damaging the carvings.

  The bed thrashed, breathing fire again in short, furious bursts.

  Omnia inhaled deeply.

  The temperature around her shifted. Frost crept outward from her boots in a perfect circle, racing across the floor and climbing the bed’s legs. Ice formed fast but thin, precise, reinforcing the sand-locked limbs instead of crushing them.

  The bed let out a frustrated, warbling growl.

  Still resisting.

  Omnia stepped closer and placed her hand on the dragon head’s snout.

  "No," she said quietly.

  The fire died instantly.

  She redirected the heat inward and downward, dispersing it harmlessly through the floor beneath the enclosure. The wooden jaws sagged. The blankets stopped flapping and slowly settled, folding themselves neatly.

  The ice melted. The sand hardened back into stone.

  The bed went still.

  A low, content rumble replaced the growl.

  Judge checked his tablet, then nodded. "Submission confirmed."

  Nyxelle stared, wide-eyed. "That was cool."

  "I can even tame you if you want, big girl," Omnia chuckled.

  Hana exhaled shakily. "I wish that bed were me."

  "Hey, Hana," Mom snapped her back to reality, "We take Buksi home, and then we can move to the next place."

  "I hope it won't be less bizarre than this shop was," Hana added.

  It wasn't.