The Assassin King Reincarnated in a Weak Student

011

The door of the rented house closed softly behind him.

Kieran stood for a moment in front of the narrow alley filled with tangled cables and peeling, dull walls. The afternoon air felt heavy, mixed with the smell of garbage and vehicle exhaust.

He stepped forward, but his steps were not entirely steady.

The memories from the original body did exist, but the previous ‘Kieran’ rarely truly explored. His route was simple and monotonous: home, school, and occasionally to a karaoke place to work part-time in secret.

There was no exploration, let alone understanding of the area.

“Hm…” he muttered softly. He paused for a moment, then spoke in his mind.

“System, display the map of the surrounding area.”

There was no response for a second, then the mechanical voice appeared.

[Request denied. Map feature requires points.]

Kieran frowned slightly.

“Points?”

[Point balance: 0]

[Initial assistance has been used.]

He fell silent for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. The initial assistance mentioned by the system clearly referred to the incident at the hospital when he stole the medicine.

“…So now everything is paid,” he muttered flatly.

He rubbed his temple, slightly annoyed, but not too surprised. There was no such thing as truly “free” help in this world.

“How do I get points?”

[To obtain points, the host must help others.]

Kieran’s steps halted. His brows lifted slightly, and his expression became indescribable.

“Help others?” There was a brief pause before he asked again, his tone now slightly colder, “So… this system is some kind of good person system?”

Silence returned. But this time, the answer came faster.

[No.]

A short and cold answer.

[In this district, what is lacking is not kindness. What is lacking is justice.]

Kieran did not move immediately. His eyes swept over the street ahead, people walking quickly, some with wary gazes, others with empty expressions.

[The host is required to help gather or enforce justice to obtain points.]

Kieran remained silent for quite a while.

Justice. The word felt unfamiliar to him, or perhaps even irrelevant. He let out another sigh, this time heavier.

In the past, he was a tool. The shadow of the Viremont family, an assassin they raised, an executor of decisions that must never be recorded.

In his world, there was no right or wrong, no justice or injustice, there were only targets and results.

And now…

“Justice…” he muttered softly. The corner of his lips moved slightly, almost like a faint smile, but without warmth.

How could someone like him understand something like that?

He looked at the street ahead, his eyes turning cold again.

“…Interesting.”

If this system wanted justice, then he would define it himself. After all, the system did not say he had to do good and become a good person.

Kieran turned into another, narrower alley. Before he could walk further, a voice was heard. The sarcastic tone sounded unfamiliar yet also familiar.

“Oh… so you’ve already come out of the hospital?” the voice said, followed by a mocking chuckle. “I thought you’d die pathetically.”

Kieran glanced briefly.

A teenager about his age stood leaning against the wall, blocking the path, his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression full of mockery.

The memories of ‘Kieran’ immediately recognized him.

Ron, his classmate, one of the bullying group. But not one of the main ones, more like a lackey. Someone who bullied only because he was ordered to, someone who would become a target himself if he disobeyed.

So in truth, his situation was not much better, though not as bad either. Let’s say Ron was slightly more fortunate than ‘Kieran’.

His past actions, bullying ‘Kieran’, were actually done to survive. Something understandable and forgivable, but from the victim’s perspective, it was still irritating.

Kieran only looked at him for a moment, then shifted his gaze away again, as if uninterested.

No answer from Kieran was actually normal, but the lack of reaction made Ron frown, and his relaxed expression began to crack.

“Heh,” he scoffed, his tone changing. “Why are you so quiet?”

Ron clicked his tongue in annoyance, then pushed himself off the wall and stepped closer.

“What? After coming back from death, you became mute and deaf?” he mocked, his voice rising.

Kieran remained silent, a thought crossing his mind.

Ron raised his hand, about to grab Kieran’s collar, a movement he was clearly used to using to subdue others and remind them of their place.

But Kieran’s body moved faster. He sidestepped lightly, then in one smooth motion, his hand caught Ron’s wrist.

Before Ron could react, Kieran twisted his arm behind his back.

“Ah—!”

Ron’s body immediately bent. His balance was lost, and in an instant, he was already kneeling on the ground, his arm locked behind him.

Everything happened without a single punch. Fast and efficient.

“W-what are you doing?” Ron gasped, his expression changing as his brows furrowed in pain.

“I don’t have the intention or time to play cat and mouse,” Kieran cut in flatly. His voice was calm and emotionless, completely different from the quiet and weak Kieran before.

Ron froze for a moment, then his face flushed with anger. Not just from the pain, but from feeling belittled.

“You—how dare you—!” he growled. He tried to stand, forcing his arm, thinking that Kieran had just come out of the hospital and was still weak. But Kieran only pressed a little deeper.

“ARGH—!” Ron’s scream broke the silence of the alley.

Fortunately, as usual during the day, the place was quiet. People were busy working or at school. No one paid attention to them.

“Let go of me!” Ron shouted, his breath ragged. “Damn it, let go!”

Kieran looked down at him.

“Alright, I’ll let you go.”

Ron fell silent for a moment. A flicker of hope appeared, then immediately turned into caution when Kieran only spoke without acting accordingly. Before he could say anything, Kieran spoke first.

“Do something for me and I’ll let you go.”

“…What do you want?” Ron asked, breathing heavily and full of dissatisfaction.

“Follow my orders. Become my subordinate.”

“Are you crazy!” Ron roared angrily. After all, Kieran’s status in their class was the lowest. “Become your subordinate? Huh, are you delusional?”

Kieran’s grip did not loosen in the slightest. The pressure on his arm increased slightly, enough to remind him of their current positions.

He looked at Ron coldly, a sinister smile curling on his lips as he said slowly,

“You know, it’s not difficult for me to break your arm.”