Lily arrived at the gate of Corholt High School with heavy steps.This school was an elite private school—a place where rich people's children attended. Its building was magnificent, its facilities complete, and its reputation high.But for Lily, this school was hell.She walked through the gate with her head down, trying not to attract anyone's attention.The school corridor was crowded with students chatting, laughing, and walking casually. They all wore neat and clean uniforms—white shirts, red ties, dark blue pants or skirts.Lily glanced at her own uniform—a faded white shirt, a washed-out dark blue skirt, and shoes that were already damaged at the soles.She looked like a poor person among rich people.And everyone knew it.Some students glanced at her with condescending looks. Some whispered while pointing at her. But no one greeted her. No one cared.Lily was used to it.She walked quickly toward her classroom on the second floor, hoping to reach her desk without problems.But

"LET ME GO!" Damian screamed loudly, his face reddening from anger and a bit of fear. "HOW DARE YOU! DO YOU KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO YOU IF MY FAMILY FINDS OUT ABOUT THIS?!"He tried to break free, his hands frantically hitting Lein's arm."MY FATHER WILL DESTROY YOU! YOUR FAMILY WILL SUFFER! YOU'LL GO TO JAIL!" he screamed louder, his voice trembling between anger and fear. "LET ME GO RIGHT NOW, TRASH!"Lein looked at him with a cold gaze.Then without warning—SLAP!Lein slapped him.A light slap—not too hard, but with perfect precision."ARGH!"Damian screamed in pain. His cheek immediately reddened, feeling hot and stinging. He felt sharp pain spreading throughout his face.His eyes widened, extremely shocked."He... he actually slapped me...""YOU—!" Damian looked at Lein with eyes full of blazing anger. "YOU DARE SLAP ME?! YOU DARE—"SLAP!A second slap.Harder this time."AAAHHH!"Damian's head was thrown to the side. His nose immediately bled, fresh blood flowing from his nost

Half an hour later, Charles left the Anthony Mansion with confident steps. A thin smile was still on his face—a satisfied smile full of anticipation. "Lein Ashford," he thought while walking toward his car parked in the front yard. "You really chose the wrong opponent!" He got into his black Bentley Continental, closed the door, then sat comfortably in the luxurious leather seat. He grabbed his phone, then scrolled through his contact list quickly. His eyes stopped on one name: Viktor "The Reaper" Kozlov. Charles smiled. Viktor was one of Corholt's underworld rulers—a former mercenary from an eastern conflict zone who now ran a bodyguard and "problem-solving" business for rich people. Brutal, efficient, and had no tolerance for failure. Charles had used his services twice before to "handle" uncooperative business rivals. Both ended very... satisfyingly. He pressed the call button. RING... RING... After three rings, a heavy voice with an eastern accent answered. "C

Avalon Hill - Midnight.A black van was parked under the same large tree, about a hundred meters from Avalon Hill Villa No. 1.Inside the van, six men sat in darkness.Viktor "The Reaper" Kozlov sat in the front passenger seat, staring at the villa in the distance with a sharp gaze. Beside him, a thin man with a headset—No. 3—sat in the driver's seat, observing the surrounding area with night vision binoculars.In the back seat, four other men sat calmly—all dressed in black, armed.No. 6, a muscular man with a snake tattoo on his neck, checked his folding knife with a satisfied smile.No. 8, a man with a scar on his forehead, checked his pistol with a silencer.No. 11, a tall, thin man, stretched his neck with the sound of cracking bones.No. 14, the youngest man with a cold face, sat silently while checking his brass knuckles."The last guard passed five minutes ago," No. 3 said in a low tone. "Their patrol pattern is consistent. We have a ten-minute window before the next round."V

Viktor felt his heart pounding hard.Cold sweat ran down his temples.His hands trembled—no, his entire body trembled."This man... is not an ordinary human."Beside him, his four subordinates—No. 3, No. 8, No. 11, and No. 14—looked at Lein with pale faces, their breaths coming fast.They had just witnessed No. 6—one of their strongest fighters—destroyed with one slap.And now...Lein stood in the middle of the warehouse calmly, hands in his pants pockets, looking at them with a cold gaze that pierced the soul.As if they were not a threat.As if they were just... insects.Viktor swallowed with difficulty."Now I understand where his confidence comes from. This man... he's really strong."He glanced at his four subordinates who were also terrified.Impossible.Impossible to defeat Lein with physical strength alone.They needed... another way.Viktor took a deep breath, then shouted loudly:"SHOOT HIM! NOW!"The four flinched, then immediately grabbed their guns with trembling hands.N