Chapter 1
It was an ordinary day.
Students were returning to their dormitories in a bus, returning from the examination center. The air was filled with casual chatter and the usual fatigue of routine. Then, without warning, the bus came to a sudden halt.
Three people—roughly the same age—stepped inside.
At, the center of them stood a girl dressed entirely in red. Her long prom dress flowed elegantly, her hair neatly clipped to one side (Kate). Flanking her were a boy (Jade) and another girl (Summer), both equally composed, their eyes scanning the bus with intent.
They were looking for someone.
And they found him.
Jake.
They moved toward him without hesitation. Jake exhaled sharply, his face tightening as realization hit him.
“Holy shit,” he muttered.
Before anyone could react, they grabbed him and poured a strange chemical over his body. Panic flashed across his face.
“I can’t do it… I don’t know how to do it…” he repeated, over and over again.
Two of his friends rose immediately, assuming the worst. But before they could intervene, David, who had just boarded knocked them down. Chaos erupted, yet strangely, it felt contained—as if controlled.
A teacher tried to step in, but it was useless.
Then Jake shouted, his voice cutting through everything like a command:
“They’re not here to harm anyone. They know nothing!”
Silence followed.
As if obeying an unseen authority, everyone stopped.
Suddenly, foam began to seep from Jake’s body.
Confusion spread across the bus. Before anyone could process what was happening, Jade—pulled out a lighter and ignited the foam.
A green flame burst to life.
Screams filled the bus.
“It’s not fire!” Jake shouted.
And it wasn’t.
The flames weren’t hot. They consumed only the foam, leaving everything else untouched. As the fire faded, something far more shocking was revealed.
Jake had changed.
His face, his body—everything looked different. Scars covered him from head to toe. A deep cut stretched from his chin to his forehead. His hands, his chest—every visible part of him bore marks of a violent past.
The bus fell silent.
The teacher stared at him in disbelief.
“We’re already getting late,” Kate snapped impatiently.
Jade handed Jake a suit. As he dressed, he muttered, “I’m not good at dancing. Why don’t you go?”
“Only the leaders were invited,” Jade replied calmly.
After some casual discussion, the plan was set.
“All you have to do is follow Kate’s lead,” Jade said. “He’s a legend. Impress him, and our gang will dominate this city.”
The tension in the bus was thick.
With a gun casually in his hand, Jade instructed the driver to stop near an open ground ahead. “David will be your bodyguard,” he added, handing Jake both a gun and a knife.
Jake paused, thinking carefully.
“Every gang leader in the city will be there tonight,” he said. “They’ll all come armed, with guards. So we do the opposite.”
He looked at Kate.
“We go alone. Unarmed.”
There was immediate disagreement, but eventually, they accepted his decision.
The bus stopped. They stepped out and entered a waiting car. Meanwhile, Jade and Summer stayed behind, intending to check Jake’s dorm room, their expressions filled with doubt and curiosity.
Inside the bus, the teacher finally spoke.
“Is he… the King of Scars?”
Jade smiled and nodded.
The students exchanged stunned looks. The teacher explained in hushed tones that Jake was a rising gangster who had recently seized control of an entire region. She admitted, almost reluctantly, that she admired him.
By the time the bus reached the dorms, the news had already spread.
Fear followed.
No one dared speak his name aloud.
Meanwhile, Jake and Kate arrived at a grand mansion, illuminated with extravagant decorations.
They stepped inside.
Waiting for them was Kim—the man they had heard so much about.
“I’m surprised,” Kim said with a faint smile. “You didn’t bring any weapons. Unlike the others.”
Jake chuckled softly. “I don’t need them.”
Kim’s eyes shifted to Kate.
“I’ve heard a lot about her,” he said. “Her beauty… her skill in combat. But seeing her now—she exceeds expectations.”
He gestured for them to follow.
They were led into the ballroom, where the remains of a dance event lingered in the air. Soon, it transitioned into a private dinner gathering.
Out of all the gangs in the city, only twelve major leaders had been invited.
Jake was one of them.
Seated beside Kim was a girl—his daughter—about Jake’s age. Her beauty was almost unreal, drawing attention from everyone present.
Around the table sat seasoned gangsters, veterans with over a decade of experience.
And yet, only three of them were teenagers.
Jake.
Daniel.
Zeke.
Everyone knew they belonged to the same gang once—and that Jake is the current leader of that gang.
Of all the gangsters, only 12 were invited to dinner, and Jake, Daniel, Zeke were in that group
Jake and Daniel found themselves intrigued by Kim’s daughter, much to the visible irritation of their partners, Kate and Sammy.
Trying to provoke Kate, Jake smirked. “Maybe I should have two partners.”
Kate didn’t hesitate. She drove her heel into his foot.
He winced.
As the dinner progressed, Kim suddenly rose.
His voice cut through the room.
“Out of the twelve people seated here… only three will leave this mansion alive.”
Silence.
Then panic.
One man lunged at him in desperation—but before he could reach him, Kim’s guard snapped his neck effortlessly.
The room froze.
Twelve became eleven.
What surprised Kim, however, was Jake.
He continued eating.
Calm. Unbothered.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Kim observed.
Jake didn’t even look up.
“I expected this,” he replied.
Someone scoffed. “Teenagers these days… thinking they’re invincible.”
Laughter echoed.
“And what do they call you?” another mocked. “‘Scar-ass’?”
Jake finally looked up.
His gaze was icy cold.
“By the end of this,” he said quietly, “you’ll know exactly what I’m called… and why.”
Moments later, they were led into the arena.
A place built for violence.
A place with no rules.
The air grew heavy with anticipation.
The game had begun.
Most of them came armed.
Knives gleamed under the dim light, metal rods flashed in restless hands, and the air itself seemed to vibrate with danger. They had arrived prepared for bloodshed, each one gripping the weapon they had brought as if it alone could guarantee survival.
But Kate needed no blade from a market stall.
With a cold, steady gaze, she reached for the sharp metal hair sticks tucked into her hair. In her hands, they were no longer ornaments—they were weapons.
And Jake?
Jake stepped forward with nothing.
No knife. No rod. No gun.
Only his scarred fists.
Then the fight exploded.
The first man lunged, but before anyone could even process what was happening, Kate moved. Her hand flashed through the air, and one of her hair sticks sliced past with deadly precision. A weapon clattered to the ground. Then another. And another. Panic spread like wildfire as men realized, too late, that they were being disarmed before they could even strike.
At the center of the chaos stood Jake, Daniel, and Zeke.
Together, they were unstoppable.
Jake moved like a force of nature—fast, brutal, impossible to predict. A man swung at him with a rod, but Jake caught his wrist, twisted, and sent him crashing to the ground with a single blow. Another rushed him from behind, only to be thrown aside like he weighed nothing. Bodies dropped around him one after another.
A group of them, desperate and furious, charged at Jake all at once.
It didn’t matter.
They were no match for him.
His speed was terrifying. His strength was monstrous. Every strike he landed carried the weight of a storm. Men who had walked in with arrogance now stumbled back in fear, their confidence shattering with every second.
Then the whispers began.
At first, it was only one trembling voice.
“Jake…”
Another voice, louder this time, full of dread.
“The King of Scars…”
The name spread through the room like a curse.
“The man who defeated seventy-five men… alone…”
“With his bare hands…”
Fear swallowed the gangsters whole.
The legend standing before them was no longer just a story.
He was real.
And he was destroying them.
Within minutes, it was over.
The most feared gangsters in the area lay scattered across the ground—groaning, bleeding, broken. The room that had once thundered with violence fell into a heavy, stunned silence.
Only three figures remained standing.
Jake.
Daniel.
Zeke.
Not one of them bore a single scratch.
But while the others caught their breath, Kate’s eyes narrowed. Beside her, Sammy noticed it too.
Throughout the entire fight, Jake and Daniel had not only been battling. Their eyes had kept drifting—again and again—to Kim’s daughter.
A sharp, unpleasant feeling twisted in Kate’s chest.
Sammy’s expression darkened.
And then there was something even stranger.
Zeke was gone.
One moment he had been there in the chaos, fighting alongside them. The next… he was nowhere to be seen.
Jake suddenly froze.
His expression changed.
The fierce fire in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something rare—confusion.
He lifted his head slightly, as though catching a scent in the air, as though something unseen had just brushed against his senses. For the first time that night, he looked uncertain.
Without a single word, Kim reacted.
His face hardened. He turned immediately, pulling his daughter close as his guards closed in around them. No explanation. No farewell. Just a swift, deliberate retreat.
They left.
Jake’s gaze sharpened, and Daniel took a step forward as if to follow, but the crowd, the confusion, and the sudden distance between them made it impossible.
By the time they pushed through the wreckage, Kim and his daughter were already gone.
The night, which had moments ago been filled with violence, now held only silence… and questions.
Jake stood still among the fallen bodies, his fists clenched, his scars catching the light like old warnings.
Something had changed.
