The Assassin King Reincarnated in a Weak Student

Chapter 009

The next morning, Kieran woke to a soft voice calling his name. He slowly opened his eyes. His mother was already standing beside the bed with a food container in her hand.

“Wake up. Eat first, then we’ll take care of the administration and go home,” she said softly. Her tone tried to sound light, but the dark circles under her eyes were becoming more obvious.

Kieran sat up slowly. He wanted to ask about the cost, how she had paid it, and where the money had come from. But when he saw her exhausted face and the faint, the question stopped in his throat. 

Even if he asked, he would not be helping anything right now.

In the end, he simply accepted the bowl of soup and began eating quietly. This time, he finished it without leaving anything. His mother looked relieved to see that.

Not long after that, the administrative process was completed. They walked out of the room toward the elevator. At the end of the corridor, several nurses and an administrative staff member were talking in somewhat tense tones. Two security officers were also standing not far away.

His mother, who was quite friendly by nature, turned to a middle-aged woman standing near them, apparently also a patient.

“Excuse me, what’s going on?”

The woman glanced at them. She had been bored without any entertainment, so when someone asked, her gossiping instinct was slightly stirred. She answered, “They say there was a loss in the pharmacy. Seems like a theft. I heard quite a lot of medicine went missing.”

Kieran, standing beside his mother, kept a neutral expression. But inside, he paused slightly.

Quite a lot?

He felt that last night he had only taken enough. He had not emptied the shelves in a way that should have left obvious gaps, yet it still aroused suspicion.

He held his breath for a moment, then dismissed the thought. It would not be traced back to him anyway.

His mother and the woman exchanged a few more words before she said, “Hopefully they find it soon.”

Then she led Kieran into the elevator.

Inside the old public transport vehicle that creaked slightly every time it passed over potholes, Kieran sat by the window. He looked outside with a calm gaze, but his eyes carried curiosity that was hard to hide.

The buildings along the road grew more crowded.

Although in his previous life he had undergone training in remote locations, he had never truly seen a slum district like this in person. His knowledge had been limited to news reports, crime statistics, or economic data.

But seeing it himself was different.

Unconsciously, his thoughts drifted to the West Financial District, the area where he had lived in his previous life, and also where the Viremont family was based.

If the East Rail District was a world surviving day by day, then the West Financial District was a world living atop accumulated wealth and power.

The difference was not just about money. It was like two worlds standing side by side, yet never touching.

As soon as the door of their small house opened, the smell of alcohol greeted them. The living room was in disarray. The old man was sitting on the sofa, his body half-reclined. His face was red, his eyes half-open, clearly not fully sober.

When he saw them enter, he snorted.

“So you’re finally back. Where’s the money?”

His mother stiffened.

“What money?”

“Don’t play dumb!” he barked, his hand pointing sharply at the woman. “You think I don’t know you’re hiding it? That hospital isn’t cheap. Where did you get the money? There must be some left!”

Kieran stood silently a few steps behind.

“There’s nothing left. It all went to the hospital fees,” his mother answered firmly, though her voice trembled.

“Lies!” The man stood unsteadily, nearly losing his balance. “What a waste spending money on a coward like him!”

His gaze shifted to Kieran.

“Just look at him. Weak. A burden. Can’t do anything except cause trouble!”

His mother immediately stepped slightly forward, as if unconsciously shielding Kieran.

“That’s enough! Shut your mouth!”

The old man fell silent for a moment, then his face darkened.

“Since when did you dare to shout at me? You whore—”

He raised his hand, clearly about to strike. 

His mother reflexively stepped back half a step.

But before his hand could come down, a hard kick struck the side of his knee. The kick was fast, precise, and without the slightest hesitation.

The drunken man was startled, his body losing balance, and he fell to the side with a loud crash, screaming like a trapped rat.

Kieran stood upright, his expression cold as he looked at the old man. It did not resemble the gaze of a teenager who had just been discharged from the hospital.

The old man roared in anger as his body hit the floor.

“You ungrateful brat!” he shouted hoarsely. He tried to get up, staggering but filled with rage. His hand rose again, this time not only toward his wife, but directly at Kieran.

His mother was startled and cried out, “Stop! Don’t—”

But Kieran had already stepped forward, standing directly in front of her. His body leaned slightly, his stance firm.

The old man’s fist swung. Kieran tilted his body, dodging by a narrow margin. In one swift motion, he grabbed the wrist and twisted it sharply.

A groan was heard.

Before the man could regain his balance, Kieran’s punch had already landed on his stomach. The old man coughed, stepping back, then tried to attack again with wild movements.

Kieran gave him no space. He struck again, this time squarely on the jaw.

“How dare you—” He still tried to curse, his words slurred and reeking of alcohol.

Another punch hit his face, thin blood flowing from the corner of his lips.

His mother stood frozen behind, her breathing rapid. She had never seen her son like this.

The old man was now truly cornered. Every time he tried to rise, Kieran pushed him back. Every time he lifted a hand, the movement was broken.

His curses turned into groans.

“Enough… enough…” his voice began to weaken.

But Kieran did not stop until the man completely lost his resistance. He grabbed the collar of the wrinkled shirt and pulled him up roughly. The old man’s body was barely steady.

“Listen carefully,” Kieran’s voice was low and cold. “If you come again and disturb Mother… I won’t be lenient.”

Kieran dragged him out of the house, pushing his body until he stumbled onto the ground in front of their small home.

“Get out.”

The old man staggered, nearly falling again. He cursed under his breath, but his voice was no longer as firm as before.

Kieran turned to go back inside.

His mother was still standing within, her face pale, her hands trembling.

But before Kieran could step past the doorway, a sudden movement came from behind.

The old man, who had somehow already gotten back up, lunged forward with hatred on his face. His hand was raised, holding a shard of a bottle that had fallen outside earlier.

His attack was silent and filled with malicious intent.