The Rejected Son’s Road to Retribution

Chapter 3

This wasn't Tyson's first experience like this, during his time in prison, he had faced near-death situations several times. 

If not for the prisoner's last words or the intervention of the system, he wouldn't suspect that everything happening to him was attempted murder instead of just bad luck.

He sighed deeply. The remnants of his physical discomfort had healed, and he felt much better now.

Tyson rose from the bed and walked into the secret room usually used by 'certain individuals' for their own enjoyment.

The system's voice echoed in his mind.

"Going empty-handed?"

"Yeah," Tyson replied nonchalantly. "I've died once with regrets, this time, I don't want to regret again."

His posture couldn't be changed overnight, still slightly hunched, his face still looking timid.

In front of the special room, several guards stood tall, but Tyson didn't care, he attempted to break through only to be firmly restrained.

"I want to see Big Boss," he said without glancing at them.

One of the guards shoved him.

"Tsk, go at your own risk."

His back hit the wall, but he stood firm, stubbornly insisting, "I want to meet Big Boss, even if it costs me my life."

"This kid, you want a beating, huh?!"

The man struck once, his hand grabbed by a pair of thin, ugly hands. Tyson then kicked his left leg, causing the man to fall and groan in pain.

The commotion was heard even in the bustling room, Big Boss's right-hand man came to assess the situation and report back to Big Boss. After seeking Big Boss's opinion, he returned to bring Tyson inside.

Inside the room, Big Boss raised his hand, and a few out-of-place individuals exited the room, leaving only a select few who were specifically following him.

His sharp eyes stared at Tyson with undisguised mockery, yet there was also admiration.

"Coming to see me at this hour, what do you want?" he asked hoarsely after drinking too much alcohol.

Without beating around the bush, Tyson asked directly, "Why do you want to kill me?"

Hearing his question, Big Boss burst into laughter.

Tyson frowned and said again, "Don't tell me you didn't do it. It's clear... it's clear the prisoner mentioned your name."

"Son, you're very naive," Big Boss sighed. "Haven't you considered the possibility that there are others who want your life badly?"

Tyson fell silent, he truly didn't know who could want his life so desperately. Though he had guesses, it seemed implausible because his death wouldn't benefit them.

But if it was Big Boss, what could his motive be?

Tyson was truly puzzled.

"Seeing you like this, it seems you really don't know anything."

Big Boss placed the wine glass in his hand down and stood up, walking closer to Tyson. He lightly tapped Tyson's cheek twice and said, "It's someone from your family. They're the ones paying people to kill you, even pleading with me."

Tyson remained stunned, lifting his head slightly to glance at Big Boss.

"No... that can't be, why would they do that?"

"You're asking me, then who should I ask? They're your family, you should know what matters most to them."

Tyson bowed his head, he knew none of his family members liked him. They didn't even consider his existence meaningful... well, except for his sister.

But there was no reason for them to kill him because he had nothing. Why would they go so far as to eliminate him?

His mind continued to spin, searching for the truth, reasons, and causes, but he found none.

Meanwhile, in front of him, Big Boss instructed his men, "You must finish it in front of me."

Big Boss was disgusted by the repeated failures of his men over the past few months. So, he wanted to witness Tyson's death firsthand.

"Is that person And- uhuk…?" Tyson felt a dull ache in his stomach.

"It should have been finished tonight."

Big Boss's hoarse voice reverberated, bringing him back to reality. Tyson gritted his teeth hard, feeling the familiar pain he had endured. But this time, he used his hands to occasionally touch their skin and find their weaknesses.

Just as everyone thought he was dying and about to give up, Tyson opened his eyes.

Unlike before, which were dull and foolish, madness glinted deep within his eyes.

He had restrained himself for too long to forget that he had the ruthless blood of the De Leon family. If his own family could plot against him, then why couldn't he?

Tyson laughed as he faced them, even though he suffered great losses himself. He didn't stop. He took them down one by one, leaving Big Boss staring in stunned silence, clearly shocked to see him unleash his madness.

There was laughter from Big Boss's mouth as he said mockingly, "I didn't expect you to not only have great luck but also hide your madness so well."

Tyson paid no attention to what the man said, he only knew one thing—he needed answers.

He charged at Big Boss and demanded, "Who? Who paid them to kill me?"

"I don't know," Big Boss clearly sensed danger, so he explained, "I don't know who that person is, they contacted me through an intermediary."

That intermediary was none other than a group of mafia where Big Boss operated.

The door burst open from outside, and several prison guards arrived, including the warden. They quickly captured Tyson and restrained both of his hands.

"Do you have nine lives? How dare you act like this," the warden complained beside him. He couldn't hassle Big Boss for certain reasons, but Tyson was a different case.

"Take him to solitary confinement and don't let him out until tomorrow morning!"