Little Lu Chen was taken to an unfamiliar place.
Located deep in the forest, the climate here was sweltering.
The houses were all built from wood, raised high above the ground on stilts, leaving the space beneath empty.
The only way up was by climbing long wooden ladders.
People of all ages and skin tones could be found here.
Inside the camp, everyone was engaged in various forms of training.
The younger ones underwent physical conditioning.
Those slightly older practiced knife techniques, marksmanship, and other lethal skills.
Watching the bustling activity, Little Lu Chen found it all strangely fascinating.
"This will be your home from now on," said the middle-aged woman beside him.
She had a sharp, no-nonsense demeanor, with a faint scar running across her face.
Only much later would Lu Chen learn that this woman had once been his father’s childhood companion.
Back in their prime, the two had been hailed as the golden pair of the assassin underworld, each ranked first among their respective genders.
Everyone assumed they were a couple.
But in truth, they were not.
Later, for reasons unknown, their relationship soured, and they severed all ties.
Eventually, his father vanished from the assassin world altogether.
The woman, however, went on to establish her own organization.
---
"You’re the new kid?"
Five boys, around eleven or twelve years old, swaggered up to Little Lu Chen.
Arms crossed, they exuded an air of hostility.
Little Lu Chen glanced up at them but didn’t respond, continuing his squats.
Without warning, the largest of the boys kicked him hard.
Losing his balance, he fell to the ground.
The other four immediately joined in, relentlessly kicking him.
Small and defenseless, he could only curl into a ball, shielding his head with his arms.
Only when they’d had their fill did the boys finally step back, smugly satisfied.
The big one crouched down and patted Lu Chen’s face mockingly.
"Listen, kid. From now on, you better stay out of my way. Or else, I’ll beat you up every time I see you."
He hated pretty faces like Lu Chen’s—just looking at them pissed him off.
After they left, Lu Chen slowly pushed himself up.
His body was covered in wounds, many of them bleeding.
Just then, a small bottle dropped into his lap from above.
Looking up, he saw the cold-faced woman staring down at him.
Not a word of concern passed her lips. Instead, she said, "If you don’t want to get beaten, fight back."
Watching her retreating figure, Lu Chen clenched the medicine bottle tightly.
Back in his small wooden hut, he stripped off his clothes and applied the ointment himself.
Every touch sent waves of searing pain through him, stealing his breath.
But he didn’t make a sound.
---
Three years passed in the blink of an eye.
The once soft-faced boy had grown into a striking young man.
His height had shot up, his frame now lean and muscular.
Deep in the jungle, a black-spotted leopard bared its fangs and lunged at the young man with a vicious snarl.
With a quick sidestep, Lu Chen dodged effortlessly.
He kicked off a nearby tree, propelling himself into the air before landing squarely on the leopard’s back.
One hand gripped its fur tightly while the other delivered brutal, hammering blows.
The leopard roared in pain, thrashing wildly.
But no matter how it struggled, it couldn’t shake him off.
The battle between man and beast was fierce and perilous.
Only when the leopard’s strength began to wane did Lu Chen swiftly pull out a rope, loop it around its neck, and tie it securely to a tree.
As he made his way back to camp, several figures emerged from the dense undergrowth, blocking his path.
Lu Chen’s expression remained impassive, as if he’d expected their ambush.
For the past three years, these same boys had ganged up on him, beating him mercilessly.
No matter how severe his injuries, the organization never intervened.
As long as he wasn’t killed, it was fair game.
Such was the law of the jungle here—only the strong survived.
Of course, not everyone resorted to bullying.
But under the big one’s leadership, these five were particularly vicious.
Lu Chen had always been their favorite target.
The big one wanted him to break, to beg for mercy.
But Lu Chen was stubborn. He refused to yield.
And so, the beatings continued.
Lu Chen had never fought back.
He endured their cruelty in silence.
But his passiveness stemmed from a twisted kind of motivation.
Life in the jungle was monotonous.
The training was grueling, designed to break the weak-willed.
Most here were orphans, brought in by the organization.
Survival was the only goal, and everyone followed the routine mechanically.
But Lu Chen had a blood debt to settle.
He couldn’t afford to slack off.
Their beatings fueled the fire inside him, driving him to grow stronger, faster.
It was his own twisted form of motivation.
That didn’t mean he’d never retaliate.
He was simply biding his time—waiting until he was strong enough to deliver a single, decisive strike.
And now, the time had come.
"You keep sneaking off into these woods after training every day—trying to avoid us?" The hulking brute was as arrogant as ever.
"Hey! I’m talking to you! Are you mute or something?!"
"Today, I’ll give you one last chance. Crawl between my legs, and I’ll let you off easy."
With that, he raised his left foot and propped it against a nearby tree.
Lu Chen glanced up, then slowly walked forward.
The move caught the brute and his gang off guard.
After all, he’d never backed down before.
One of them sneered, "Hah! Looks like this kid’s finally learned his—"
Before he could finish, Lu Chen reached the brute’s side—his half-bent posture suddenly snapping upright.
In the same motion, he seized the brute’s shoulders, yanked him forward, and drove his knee like a piston into the man’s gut.
The strike was lightning-fast—a single, brutal impact.
For a split second, everyone froze.
No one expected the usual punching bag to retaliate—let alone with such ferocity.
The sheer force, the speed—it was terrifying.
While the other four stood stunned, Lu Chen pressed his advantage. He grabbed the brute’s head and smashed it into the tree—once, twice—until blood streaked down the man’s forehead.
Maybe the attack was too sudden. Maybe that gut punch had knocked the wind out of him. Either way, the brute couldn’t recover in time.
By the time he tried, resistance was impossible.
His mind reeled—how was this runt so strong?!
He couldn’t break free!
"Quit gawking, you idiots! Get him!"
Trapped and in agony, he howled at his lackeys.
The four snapped out of it and charged.
As the first one lunged, Lu Chen braced against the brute’s body, pivoted midair, and kicked the attacker flying.
Then, like a specter, he wove through the remaining three.
The woods echoed with screams.
Ten minutes later, five figures writhed on the trampled grass.
Apart from the brute’s bloody forehead, the others bore no visible wounds—yet they groaned, too crippled to stand.
Lu Chen bound them together with rope and dragged them deeper into the forest.
Five bodies, easily six or seven hundred pounds—yet he hauled them effortlessly.
Soon, he dumped them before a black-spotted leopard.
The beast, its wounds clotted and strength restored, bared its fangs with a guttural snarl.
The five dazed boys trembled, pupils dilating in horror.
Realization dawned.
They stared at Lu Chen in disbelief.
"You’re killing us?! You know murder’s forbidden!"
Lu Chen’s gaze was ice. "Wrong. I’m not killing you. You’re..."
He tilted his chin at the leopard. "Its dinner. Nothing to do with me."
The five: !!!
Lu Chen untied them—then freed the leopard’s collar.
He stepped back, expressionless.
The leopard lunged.
Screams tore through the air.
By the time the organization arrived, only five mangled corpses remained.
Lu Chen? Already vanished into the camp.
From that day on, he stopped hiding his edge.
His talent and skill left everyone breathless.
The underworld gained a legend.
He became the youngest, most lethal assassin in history.
And soon—the undisputed king of the kill list.
