Chapter 2: Peerless Genius

In the dilapidated alley, the atmosphere was tense and charged.

Fang Can met the four hooligans’ furious stares without a trace of fear.

But the mood of the men across from him was far from good.

Hand over your valuables… and take off your clothes…

‘He… he’s using my own words! Who’s really robbing whom?’

The man who had just scrambled to his feet felt a bizarre absurdity rising in his chest.

‘What, is what I said too hard to understand?’

Fang Can impatiently rolled his neck; he saw nothing wrong with turning the tables on these fools who dared rob him.

Though five men stood opposite him, they were nothing but starving lower-class hooligans—how could their physical condition possibly compare to his, honed by proper diet and training?

And… before his transmigration, he had been a special-class superpower user at least at the ‘county’ tier.

Now, dealing with a few petty hooligans—what was there to fear? Could these trash even kill him?

‘Once I deal with these bastards, I’ll study that white panel,’ Fang Can thought, sidestepping slightly to evade a hooligan’s diagonal slash with a rusty dagger.

‘They have weapons?’ Fang Can’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction—after knocking them down, these would be his.

‘Kill him!’ the gang leader cried, clutching his aching abdomen and pointing at Fang Can.

At his command, the hooligans each drew knives, sickles, and other weapons from their belts and charged Fang Can.

Rusty iron blades could inflict long, infection-prone wounds with a mere graze; a strike to a vital spot could trigger instant death.

‘Then I just won’t get cut.’

As the thought arose, Fang Can felt his body undergo a radical transformation.

Simultaneously, within the hidden panel’s description field, a long string of characters began to emerge.

Description field:

Detected host in extreme hostile environment—Talent 1 [From Despair to Fortune] triggered.

Hidden attributes increased (Intelligence↑, Aptitude↑, Luck↑, Intuition↑, Willpower↑, Logic↑…)

…

In an instant, Fang Can felt as if he had undergone a monumental metamorphosis.

The entire world simplified in his eyes, as if life’s game had shifted from hell to easy mode.

Under the pressure of imminent death, his fleshly body—long accustomed to mediocrity—shed its cocoon and became a butterfly.

This leap was like upgrading a basic mobile phone to a 4090T—an inner-to-outer transformation granting him a sense of omnipotence.

Different paths described this state in different terms.

Daoists called it merging with the Dao; Buddhists called it enlightenment.

Terms like Zone, Gene Lock, Sixth Sense, Sword Heart Clarity, Unity with Heaven and Earth, Divine Domain—all varied in outward expression, yet all described this same power.

In common understanding, it was simply: a peerless genius.

‘Finally surfaced… this mental enhancement triggered by near-death—haven’t felt it in years.’

Looking at his enemies just steps away, Fang Can’s eyes glowed with the sweet relief of returning to genius status.

With his talent enhanced, things once impossible now came effortlessly.

Efficient muscle control boosted his power output by several folds; his mastery of martial arts let him instantly recall countless combat techniques he’d witnessed; his intuition allowed him to react without thought…

No need to think—or rather, defeating these trash didn’t even warrant using a single brain cell.

Fang Can’s right hand shot out, grabbing straight for the incoming dagger.

‘Suicide!’

Seeing the outstretched hand, the dagger-wielding hooligan’s eyes lit with triumphant glee—how dare this fool try to disarm him barehanded?

But the next instant, he felt searing pain in his wrist.

Amidst the crisp snap of shattering bones, Fang Can’s palm clamped down on the hooligan’s dagger arm, twisted it, and drove the blade deep into the man’s shoulder.

‘Puff—’

Flesh pierced; the blade erupted from the hooligan’s scapula, staining red with blood.

One hand gripping the dagger, the other clutching the man’s waist.

The next moment, Fang Can’s entire body tensed—muscles sharply defined, a ferocious aura bursting from within.

Amid the hooligan’s shrieks, he lifted the man’s body clean off the ground.

Using the bleeding corpse as a shield, Fang Can’s eyes hardened, and he charged toward the remaining hooligans in the alley.

‘Quick… get out of the way!’

Watching the two barreling toward them like a wild ox, the gang leader shouted.

But in the narrow alley, there was no room to dodge.

‘Pssht.’ Another scream rang out as the dagger protruding from the first hooligan’s scapula pierced another man’s body.

With a muffled groan, the two were skewered together, pinned to the alley’s brick wall by a single blade.

Fang Can released his grip, his gaze locking onto the three remaining hooligans, a warm smile spreading across his lips: ‘Refuse the cup of wine, drink the cup of punishment—you’re the only three left.’

‘Y-you don’t come any closer!’

Watching their moaning comrades, the three hooligans wanted nothing more than to flee as far as possible.

But behind them stood a dead-end wall of stone—no escape, no cover—only helplessly watching this plague step closer.

…

Two minutes later, five hooligans, beaten beyond recognition, lay scattered in the dead-end alley.

Yet Fang Can frowned at the fallen men, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

The buff enhancing him had weakened—but not vanished entirely.

He’d already defeated them; the danger should’ve ended. Was there still a hidden threat nearby?

Fang Can scanned the surroundings—and for a fleeting moment, thought he saw a crouching, roaring tiger atop the wall.

He blinked—and there stood a massive, broad-shouldered man, staring at him with unblinking intensity.

Had his intuition failed to detect anyone nearby just now?

In the instant their eyes met, Fang Can felt as if a prehistoric T-Rex had locked onto him—every nerve prickled.

His previously silent intuition now screamed warnings about the danger of this man.

‘Hmph.’ Suddenly, the giant’s lips curled slightly; he leapt down from the wall—silent, smooth, without a single sound.

‘You’ve never trained in martial arts.’ The giant spoke, his tone certain, despite the phrasing of a question.

‘What’s the problem? And who are you?’

As he spoke, Fang Can studied the man closely.

Nearly two meters tall, powerfully built, his sharp facial features couldn’t be hidden by the tailored long robe—muscles bulged beneath, and faint tiger embroidery shimmered along the lapel.

‘Li Fengtian, Hall Master of Tiger Demon Gate.’ The giant spoke as if it were common knowledge, offering no explanation.

‘Tiger Demon Gate… never heard of it.’ Fang Can answered honestly.

‘Never heard of it…’

Li Fengtian fell silent, eyeing Fang Can’s ill-fitting clothes and black short hair: ‘You’re definitely not from this county.’

‘Why ask so many questions, Uncle Li? And you’ve been sneaking around watching—surely you’re not here to avenge them.’ Fang Can smiled, thumbing toward the five unconscious hooligans.

‘Who cares about these scum? I care about you.’ Li Fengtian’s gaze never left Fang Can.

(End of Chapter)