The Assassin King Reincarnated in a Weak Student

Nine o’clock at night, Kieran stopped his car in front of Harsen Medical Center. He stepped out, briefly straightened his suit, and walked inside. Each of his footsteps sounded steady, yet behind his calm expression lay anticipation, hope, and a faint fear he had long buried.

After all, ten years had passed without him being able to see his mother.

As the automatic doors slid open, the sharp scent of antiseptic immediately hit him.

In the quiet hospital corridor, his phone rang in his pocket. Nuca’s name appeared on the screen. Kieran answered at once.

“Are you already at the hospital?” Nuca’s voice sounded tense, her breathing uneven. She did not even bother to greet him.

Kieran stood in front of the elevator and pressed the button for the upper floor.

“Yes.”

While waiting for the doors to open, he felt a gaze on him. Whether from a surveillance camera or someone hiding behind a corner of the lobby, he could not tell. His shoulders remained straight, his expression unchanged.

The elevator opened with a soft sound, and he stepped inside.

“What is it?” he asked flatly.

“Oh, no, no… you have to get out. Get out right now.” Nuca’s voice turned into a panicked whisper.

The elevator doors began to close.

“It’s a trap!” Nuca hissed. “They’re setting you up. Kieran, listen to me, get out now and save yourself. Run!”

Kieran’s heart pounded harder when he heard that, but his face remained calm.

Only then did he notice the two unfamiliar men standing in the corner of the elevator. They had been silent the whole time, their gazes fixed straight ahead.

Unable to speak carelessly, Kieran exhaled slowly and said in a deliberately casual tone, “It’s fine. We’ll have a drink this weekend. I’ll be waiting for you to treat me. Don’t break your promise.”

“What? What are you saying? Kieran, are you crazy? I said—”

“Alright, it’s settled.” His voice stayed light and slightly indifferent. “I’m hanging up. I’m going to see my mother.”

He ended the call before Nuca could shout again.

The elevator began to rise. The digital numbers lit up one by one, and his chest felt tight.

Of course he believed Nuca. If it was a trap, then it was real. But what choice did he have? He was already inside. He was already being watched.

And after ten years of being forbidden to see his mother, after finally learning where she was being treated… how could he turn back now?

Whatever his father had planned this time, he would face it. As long as he could see his mother. Just once.

On the thirteenth floor, the elevator stopped and the doors slowly opened.

Kieran stepped forward, but before his foot could fully cross the threshold, the two silent men moved at the same time. One hand gripped his right shoulder. Another seized his left arm.

Their hold was strong. His body was yanked backward just as the elevator doors slid shut again.

“Who are you?” Kieran’s voice was low and controlled.

He tried twisting his wrist, searching for a weak point in their grip, but unfortunately, there was none.

Ten years of his life had been shaped by violence, five years of merciless military training, and the next five as a shadow who killed and stole in the family’s name. He had learned one thing: do not panic. Observe. Calculate. Wait for an opening.

So he did not scream. He did not struggle uselessly.

Besides, his instincts told him this was not just two men. There were more hiding in the shadows.

The door leading to the rooftop opened. The night wind immediately struck his face. The smell of the city, smoke, and something that felt unmistakably like a trap filled the air.

“Boss, here he is,” one of the men said.

Without warning, they threw him toward the concrete railing. His back slammed hard against it, and his knees hit the ground.

Kieran looked up.

Under a single dim spotlight, a man sat leisurely in a chair. A woman was seated on his lap, their bodies so close they were nearly fused together. The man’s hand roamed freely around the woman’s waist, as if the world belonged only to the two of them.

Around them stood several other men in ordinary clothes, yet their posture and demeanor were anything but ordinary.

The man in the chair slowly lifted his gaze, and their eyes met.

It was Laxon, his half-brother. A faint smile curved on his lips, the same smile that had disgusted Kieran since childhood.

The couple finally broke their kiss. Laxon still held the woman’s waist, his fingers pressing possessively.

“Darling,” Laxon’s voice was hoarse and lazy, as if this were nothing more than a minor interruption to his romantic evening. “Hold on for a moment. I need to deal with your boyfriend.”

The woman snorted softly. “Boyfriend? You’re my only lover. Don’t casually label other people.”

Laxon chuckled. His hand rose to grip the woman’s chin, forcing her to face him.

“Oh, really?”

He kissed her deliberately and at length, as if aware there was a pair of eyes being forced to watch. Then he whispered loudly enough to be heard, “Why don’t you look behind you? Didn’t he once call himself your boyfriend?”

Slowly, the woman turned. The spotlight touched her face.

Catherine.

Kieran’s chest felt as though it were being crushed from the inside. Their eyes met for only a fraction of a second. There was no guilt in hers, only disgust.

Catherine looked away first, as if staring at him for too long would stain her.

“Tsk.” She flicked her hair. “Weren’t you the one who told me to approach him? To seduce him and pretend I’d fallen in love with him?”

She looked at Laxon with a soft smile Kieran had never once seen when she was with him.

“Besides, during that whole act, I never even let him touch me. Every time he tried to hold my hand, it felt disgusting.”