Transmigrated as the fake young master, I'll beat up the scumbags and b*tches

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Before Ah Zhao returned, HuMing had already gathered information about him from the locals.

Ah Zhao was a child from a single-parent family. His father had racked up significant debt and then disappeared, leaving only his mother to work tirelessly to repay it.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

For reasons unknown, Ah Zhao later dropped out of school voluntarily and went out to work. Now that he was back, it seemed that his work outside had not gone well, forcing him to return.

From the fragments of information provided by the neighbors, HuMing pieced together a few key points. 

Ah Zhao’s mother likely never imagined her son would become entangled in something so dangerous.

A sudden downpour swept through the area. By nightfall, the once-bustling streets had fallen into an eerie silence.

The older apartment buildings in the area weren’t equipped with surveillance cameras, making them frequent targets for thieves.

HuMing crossed from the opposite building and arrived at Ah Zhao’s door. With practiced ease, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The balcony was cluttered with cardboard and empty cans, and an old television was covered with a towel, seemingly to protect it from dust.

On the table were leftovers, all covered with stainless steel plates.

The room’s decor was simple, just as the neighbors had described.

Walking straight to Ah Zhao’s bedroom door, HuMing placed one hand on the silenced pistol at his waist, while the other slowly turned the doorknob.

The entire process was eerily silent.

When he pushed open the door, he saw Ah Zhao lying quietly on the bed, appearing asleep.

Outside, rain lashed against the glass windows. HuMing stood motionless, staring at the man before him.

Suddenly, a flash of white light lit up the room, followed by a deafening thunderclap.

Ah Zhao jolted awake from his sleep with his pupils contracted and his breathing rapid.

Click.

The sound of a weapon being readied broke the silence. Ah Zhao’s stiff gaze landed on HuMing, his pale face illuminated by the intermittent flashes of lightning.

“You… you’re here to kill me, aren’t you?”

“I’m here for the experimental sample.”

That simple sentence drained the color from Ah Zhao’s face. Staring at HuMing with a grave expression, he asked, “What do you want with it?”

“That’s none of your concern. Just hand it over,” HuMing said, raising the silenced pistol and pointing it at Ah Zhao.

Swallowing nervously, Ah Zhao trembled as he said, 

“That thing is dangerous. I can’t give it to you!”

“Three.”

“Do you even understand what that thing is? Do you know how many people died just to take it out?”

“Two.”

“You people don’t value life at all! You have no idea how much harm that sample could cause!”

“One.”

HuMing’s cold eyes bore into Ah Zhao, who finally closed his eyes in despair.

Facing death, Ah Zhao still refused to surrender the item in his possession.

After a moment of silence, HuMing spoke calmly. “I overheard your conversation with your mother. It seems like you care about her deeply.”

Those words struck a nerve. Ah Zhao lunged at HuMing in a frenzy, his face twisted with rage.

But HuMing’s knee drove into Ah Zhao’s stomach, instantly robbing him of the ability to fight back.

Ah Zhao curled into a ball on the floor, his face contorted in pain.

“Please… don’t hurt my mom.”

“Where’s the item? Hand it over, and I’ll spare you both.”

“They won’t let me live if I give it to you! I’ll die!” Ah Zhao shook his head desperately, muttering incoherently.

HuMing wasn’t interested in the specifics of the experimental sample. To him, the less he knew, the better.

Grabbing Ah Zhao by the collar, HuMing locked eyes with him.

“You’re testing my patience. Give me the item, and I’ll let you live.”

Ah Zhao’s face was ashen as he glanced toward a nearby room, where his most beloved person lived.

He had worked so hard to make money for his mother. If she died, what would be the point of his efforts?

Ah Zhao finally crushed the last vestiges of his conscience. Closing his eyes, he pointed weakly toward the floorboards beneath the bed.

HuMing tossed him aside and retrieved the item from under the bed.

The mission was successfully completed.

HuMing had kept his face concealed the entire time, ensuring that Ah Zhao wouldn’t recognize him.

But just as he was about to leave, Ah Zhao called out to him.

“Hey, if you hear about my death, could you come back one more time?”

“I never planned to kill you. Both you and your mother will live.”

“I hope so.”

HuMing took one last look at Ah Zhao, whose despairing smile was especially haunting in the rain-soaked night.

Suppressing his unease, HuMing turned and left.

***

The mission was a success, and HuMing’s skills earned him significant recognition within his field.

His reputation spread quickly. Some envied him, while others watched him closely.

Yet HuMing paid little attention to these reactions, continuing to execute missions as instructed, like an emotionless machine.

Even HuMin once remarked that HuMing was overly rational, devoid of any personal sentiment.

HuMing knew he wasn’t as carefree as HuMin. After every mission, he meticulously documented every detail in a notebook.

At first, the notebook served to correct his mistakes. Over time, it became a habit.

During idle moments, he would flip through its pages, revisiting his past experiences.

Although every detail was etched deeply in his mind, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had forgotten something.

“HuMing, reading your notebook again?”

HuMin entered the room to find HuMing seated quietly at his desk, flipping through the notebook.

With a whistle, she plopped down onto his bed, stretching her figure lazily.

“What is it?”

“Nothing much, just checking in to see what you’re up to,” HuMin said nonchalantly, her tone playful.

HuMing closed the notebook and turned to face her.

“If there’s nothing important, please leave.”

“Oh, come on. We haven’t chatted in ages. Let’s talk!”

Faced with HuMin’s persistence, HuMing had no choice but to comply, sitting silently as he looked at her.

Propping her head on one hand, HuMin lay sideways on the bed.

“Do you remember the first mission I gave you?”

“Yes, retrieving the experimental sample.”

“Do you remember what it was?”

“A USB drive.”

“Your memory is excellent. I would’ve forgotten by now. But what we didn’t tell you at the time was that the client was from an official organization.”

HuMin’s words caused HuMing to freeze for a moment.

Something stirred in his mind as if a long-buried memory was resurfacing.