Volume One: First Signs of Brilliance Chapter Sixty-Five: Resolution!

“Kid, do you know where you are?”
“Hey, who are you, little guy? Who let you in here?”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, even brought a sword? You’re just a brat—can you even use it?”
“Look at that, the brat’s not alone. Didn’t you see there’s a beautiful woman behind him?”
“Hey, pretty lady, are you here to have some fun with us?”
“...”

Most people in the room didn’t know Wang Jue or Lan Yiyi. Apart from Fatty Qian, who sensed something was off, the others began to tease and jeer. Only Fatty Qian and the now-dead Skinny Jinmao had witnessed Wang Jue’s strength and knew he was a martial artist. The rest had no impression of him. Otherwise, just from the way he had broken down the door earlier, no one would have dared to joke so recklessly. After all, the might of a martial artist was no laughing matter.

“Are the people in here?”
Wang Jue ignored the rabble before him and turned to Lan Yiyi for confirmation. Even though their tone was mocking, he looked utterly unbothered. The more these fools made themselves targets, the easier it would be for him when the time came to kill them.

Fatty Qian’s sense of dread grew. Just as he was about to say something, the others—already provoked by Wang Jue’s indifference—cut him off.

“You little bastard, looking for death?”
“Didn’t you hear us talking to you?”
“Hurry up and let that beauty behind you come keep us company, or else…”
“I see this kid won’t listen until he’s taught a lesson. He needs to learn how dangerous the world really is.”
“...”

Hearing his companions, Fatty Qian felt even more uneasy. He couldn’t help but inch his chair away, putting some distance between himself and the others.

“Oh... actually, I’m not here for just one of you. I’m here for all of you.” Wang Jue’s lips curled slightly, his tone calm.

Lan Yiyi rarely spoke before Wang Jue made his move. Even if he was about to speak, the other side would often interrupt; he didn’t mind. He was already certain these people were his targets and saw no need for further questions.

“Damn it, kid, you must be tired of living! Don’t think—”

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but one man, feeling insulted by Wang Jue’s composure, snatched up a nearby chair, ready to smash it down and hurl threats. Unfortunately, before he could even complete the motion, a cold blade flashed before his eyes, accompanied by a faint breeze.

He had no time to react, no time to feel anything at all, before Wang Jue calmly sheathed his sword. The next moment, he felt a sudden, overwhelming fatigue. Darkness swallowed him, and he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

“Damn you!”
“You dare lay a hand on us?”

Seeing this, the others sobered up instantly, no matter how drunk they were. Truthfully, they had already felt something was wrong earlier—after all, the sword in Wang Jue’s hand was still stained with blood. He clearly wasn’t here for fun. None of them stopped their companion before, partly to test the waters. Now, witnessing Wang Jue’s swift action, the truth dawned on them.

This brat hadn’t barged in to die; he was here for revenge. And, crucially, he had the power to exact it.

These men were no strangers to killing, used to the underworld. Even with a companion dying at their feet, their faces betrayed no fear. Instead, as if on cue, each reached for whatever weapon was closest: knives, guns, or, lacking those, tables and chairs.

The moment they sprang into action, Wang Jue was already a step ahead. No one could see how his body moved; all they saw was the glint of his sword, slicing through the air with barely a trace, leaving only the sound of steel carving wind. His blade darted among them like falling leaves, elusive and deadly.

“Please, don’t kill me!”
“I have nothing to do with this, let me go!”
“Spare—”

Fatty Qian tried to plead, but before he could finish, something felt terribly wrong with his body—though he couldn’t tell what. The next second, Wang Jue was beside them, his sword flickering in a blur.

Blood began to seep from Qian’s throat, trailing down his chest to the floor. The same fate befell the others. Weapons clattered to the ground from hands frozen in disbelief, eyes wide, mouths agape but unable to utter a word. Wang Jue’s strikes were so swift that their blood didn’t even have time to flow before he had already sheathed his sword.

Bodies toppled one after another with dull thuds. Wang Jue’s gaze remained as calm as ever—utterly unmoved, as though all this had nothing to do with him. Those who died before him were not people, but mere ants.

“Perfected basic swordsmanship?” Lan Yiyi, standing aside, was astonished by Wang Jue’s technique. She, too, had trained in the sword and recognized mastery when she saw it. To most, reaching perfection in a basic martial skill was possible with time, but that was usually after many years. Wang Jue, after all, was only sixteen, just a middle school student. For someone his age, even achieving a high level would be considered genius. Perfection at his age was exceedingly rare.

Of course, there were those who had reached this level, but very few. Among all the people Lan Yiyi had met, many had deeper cultivation than Wang Jue, yet none could match him in skill, much less surpass him.

“I’m not entirely sure either,” Wang Jue replied, making up an excuse. “When I killed before, I vaguely felt something was different, but there hadn’t been a chance to test it. These people just happened to be the perfect opportunity, and it came out naturally.”

No matter how close their relationship, Wang Jue would never reveal the secret of his golden finger. That was his deepest secret. As for his martial skills, if people knew, so be it. As long as it was attributed to talent, that was fine.

“Hiss...” Lan Yiyi drew in a sharp breath. “I have to admit, you really are a monster.”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye but chose not to press further. Tonight, she had merely intended to broaden Wang Jue’s horizons, yet he had shocked her again and again.

Aside from his slightly lower natural talent, in temperament and martial skill, Wang Jue was easily among the very best. Had he been born into a martial family, “born warrior” would be no exaggeration.

Thankfully, Lan Yiyi was not someone easily overwhelmed by surprise. From the start, her expression scarcely changed. Her self-control was strong, among the very best.

She quickly regained her composure. “Let’s go. Only one room left.”

There had been eight people in this room; only one was Wang Jue’s real target. The others were collateral. In the last room, a man and a woman were caught in a romantic embrace. Only the man was on Wang Jue’s list. He couldn’t care less about their display, nor did he feel the slightest embarrassment. Under their horrified gaze, without giving them a chance to speak, he sent them both to their deaths—fittingly, as a pair of doomed lovers.

Public displays of affection; swift deaths followed. Especially when it was done so brazenly before him—such people simply had to die! Otherwise, how could he, a virgin, bear it?

Of course, had Lan Yiyi not been present, Wang Jue might have stolen a glance at the woman out of curiosity. But with her there, he had to quash that thought, doing his best to appear unaffected.

After dispatching them both, Wang Jue frowned. “Captain Lan, is this all there is to the Black Dragon Gang?”

He could hardly believe a gang would be so simple. The people living here were clearly just lower-level lackeys, not important figures. He wasn’t stupid—he sensed something was wrong. What kind of gang leader would live in a regular apartment, crammed in with others?

“Of course not.” Lan Yiyi shook her head. “The people here are just ordinary members. I brought you here because you had a score to settle and needed a test run.”

There was something she didn’t tell Wang Jue. If the Black Dragon Gang really were this simple, if its members were all ordinary people, the security team could have handled them—there would be no need for the Hunting Squad’s involvement.

“Your revenge should be complete now. You don’t need to get involved further—leave the rest to us.” Gazing at Wang Jue’s cold, unsmiling face, Lan Yiyi spoke softly, “I know what you’re worried about. The Black Dragon Gang won’t be spared.”

She knew Wang Jue’s only concern was whether the gang would seek revenge. That’s why he was determined not to leave anyone alive. Lan Yiyi didn’t want him to get involved further, as the Black Dragon Gang was the Hunting Squad’s official target. Every year, they cleaned up such gangs, but these pests always seemed to multiply.

Especially since many gangs had powerful backers, making it tricky for them to act. As long as they didn’t do anything outrageously criminal or betray the safety zone, the authorities usually turned a blind eye. After all, the majority within the safe zone were ordinary people, and if a crisis arose, the authorities might still need the martial artists within these organizations.

If they could avoid making enemies, they would.