Shanks gasped, his breathing suddenly becoming heavy.

In the past, what he feared most was his body being weakened by the bloodline curse, his mind gradually losing reason under the torment of mental afflictions.

Eventually becoming like that beastly figure, reduced to a monster knowing only slaughter.

But now, he suddenly had the confidence to completely cure his afflictions, to live well, and even better!

Shanks’ blue eyes shone brightly, as if flames were burning deep within.

The heart that had cooled for years in his chest seemed to be refilled with magma, pumping madly.

Blood surged through his veins, carrying hopes of revenge and extreme excitement, washing over every nerve.

He gritted his teeth, suddenly clenching his fists tightly.

"Hiss—"

Due to using too much force, he instantly pulled the unhealed gunshot wound on his chest and abdomen.

The freshly scabbed wound burst open, crimson blood rapidly soaking through the gauze, blooming like glaring blood flowers on his chest.

Shanks let out a muffled groan, his brows tightly furrowed.

But he didn’t loosen his grip; instead, amidst the piercing pain, he forcibly pulled back his lips into an almost manic smile.

The clearer the pain, the more it proved that he was truly on the path of revenge.

In this long night, in the dark basement.

He opened his bloodshot eyes wide, staring at the mottled ceiling.

Letting his wounds bleed, the excited nerves could not squeeze out even the slightest drowsiness.

"Emily... be patient, one day, brother will avenge you with his own hands..."

.........

At the same time, thousands of kilometers away.

The furious wind howled, raising a black raging wave over ten meters high, crashing fiercely against an ocean-going freighter slicing through the waves.

The icy seawater turned into a sky full of white foam, pouring down on the steel deck like torrential rain.

On the most turbulent bow of the giant ship.

A bulky figure like an iron tower stood like a javelin amidst the fierce wind and massive waves.

He wore no protective clothing, allowing the icy wind mixed with hail to tear at his thin shirt.

The fierce wind whipped his dark red long hair, like dried blood, wildly around his head.

The waves, enough to crush an ordinary person, seemed to hit an invisible wall three feet from his body.

The water was forcibly split and diverged, crashing down on both sides.

Any moisture that got close was instantly vaporized by intense heat, turning into large swathes of white mist swirling around.

The red-haired man placed his hands on the thick metal railing.

At the edges of his palms, the air exhibited rings of high-temperature distortions.

The solid steel bar emitted a groaning sound under the strain.

The surface of the metal took on a dark red glow, as if being forced to melt in a furnace.

In the blink of an eye, it became like a branding iron, with molten iron faintly dripping from the edges. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

The red-haired man raised his head, his eyes devoid of warmth penetrating the layers of the storm, gazing at the distant continent beyond the horizon.

That direction was Xia Country East Capital.

Suddenly, his eyelids twitched violently.

In the depths of his bloodline, a powerful throb arose, as if a god roared in anger, tearing through endless space-time to explode directly at his ear.

"Could this be...?"

A trace of astonishment and doubt crossed the eyes of the red-haired man, his chiselled features slightly contorting.

He closed his eyes, silently feeling for a moment.

However, that throb quickly receded like the tide, leaving no trace.

The red-haired man shook his head immediately.

Dismissing it as an illusion produced by the onset of his bloodline affliction.

He exhaled a hot, turbid breath, his gaze returning to the rolling sea:

"White Owl, you wait, I will tear off your mask to see who you really are?"

As he spoke, his five fingers suddenly clenched.

Crack!

The iron bars, forged in steel, were easily mashed like tofu by him.

.........

Ten o’clock in the morning, the sunlight was just right.

National Special Police Officer Academy, third-tier classroom.

The cold wind from the central air conditioning poured down through the grille, unable to disperse the oppressive atmosphere within the exam hall.

More than a hundred candidates scattered across the spacious tiered seats.

In the vast space, only the rustling of pen tips against paper remained, along with the deliberately suppressed and varied breathing.

The questions for this comprehensive written exam were exceedingly tricky and cryptic for many.

Faced with questions on law, politics, psychology, and military science, the pugilists accustomed to solving problems with their fists were left utterly dispirited.

Someone furrowed their brows into a permanent knot, biting on the plastic pen cap until it was full of dents.

Someone stared at the same major question for a full ten minutes, their hair tousled like a bird’s nest, yet their answer sheet remained blank.

Some even simply gave up struggling, blindly guessing and filling out the multiple-choice section with closed eyes.

Another person’s trembling legs hit against the desk, making a creaking sound that annoyed those nearby even more.

At the back of the exam hall.

A skinny young man with a crew cut looked shifty, his eyes darting around his sockets.

Taking advantage of the moment when the invigilator turned away, he quickly pulled open his left sleeve, glancing at the miniature electronic screen taped with clear plastic to the inside of his forearm.

"Snap!"

Yet, before he could make out the writing on the screen, a hand suddenly reached in from the side.

Five fingers spread wide, slamming down on his desk and pressing the exam paper firmly.

The skinny young man shuddered, snapping his head up.

The invigilator, wearing a name tag, had somehow instantly appeared in front of him, looking down with disdain in their eyes:

"Waste, can’t even cheat right, get the hell out!"

"Teacher, I didn’t..."

The youth’s face turned pale as he frantically tried to pull down his sleeve to argue.

The invigilator wasn’t listening to nonsense, directly tearing off the answer sheet on his desk.

Outside, two armed guards heard the commotion, striding in to lift the youth’s arms on either side, dragging him out of the classroom amid his desperate pleas.

The sound of struggle in the hallway gradually faded away.

Inside the exam hall, the atmosphere instantly plummeted to freezing point.

The remaining examinees buried their heads even lower, cold sweat almost making their pen grips slip.

Yet, amidst this stressful environment, Fang Cheng, by the window, seemed as if he was in another world.

Sunlight slanted through the glass onto his pen-holding right hand.

The black gel pen swiftly moved across the answer sheet.

No hesitation, no nibbling on the pen tip, no need to scribble and deduce on scratch paper.

Each question, upon reading the prompt, found its logical and precise answer smoothly landing on the paper.

The invigilator who had caught the cheater earlier paced along the aisle, stopping right next to Fang Cheng.

Seeing his densely filled exam paper, with handwriting like iron and silver hooks, the teacher raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing in their eyes.

Such speed and coherence in answering seemed as if the standard answers were engraved in his mind, just quietly transcribing them.

A moment’s thought, the invigilator was at ease again.

The Special Search Team, as one of the nation’s key power representations, not only held life-and-death authority but enjoyed excessively high internal treatment and social status.

Every year, countless elite families and dignitaries fought to insert their offspring into the academy for prestige.

Be it in politics or business, this experience could significantly aid entry into high society.

Although the recruitment process for the Special Search Team was incredibly strict, filtering out most playboy wastrels who only knew indulgence.

However, in the face of absolute power, there were always some influential individuals, capable of prematurely acquiring the core question bank through underhanded tactics.

The invigilator’s gaze moved up from the exam paper to Fang Cheng’s face.

Gold-rimmed glasses, a handsome and genteel visage, holding a pen with a stable and proper posture.

Even silently sitting there answering, he naturally radiated an aura of superiority, invulnerability, and privilege.

This innate qi field was not something an ordinary family could cultivate.

"Probably another young master released by some distinguished family for experience."

Inwardly mumbling a word, the teacher wisely withdrew their gaze and continued inspecting towards the back rows.