"Damn it, I can smell the meat cooking, and you still claim there's no money at home!"
Before Han Tianming even stepped into the house, his cursing voice reached the ears of the two inside.
Liu Muye turned his head toward the door and saw the same man who had been pestering Han Juyou for money at school. Today, the man reeked less of alcohol—likely because he’d gambled away all his cash and couldn’t afford a drink.
Spotting Liu Muye sitting at the dining table, the man froze for a second before blurting, "You—what are you doing here?"
"Why can’t I be here?" Liu Muye crossed his legs and smirked at Han Tianming. "Last time, you borrowed tens of thousands from me. Isn’t it about time you paid up—principal plus interest?"
Han Tianming’s face twisted in panic. "That’s a lie! I only took three thousand from you last time. When did it turn into tens of thousands?"
"Money lent from my hands comes with a 20% daily interest rate. After all these days, yeah, it’s tens of thousands now."
"You—this is daylight robbery!" Han Tianming’s eyes darted around before he spat, "You’ve got no proof! How can you claim I owe you anything? I don’t even know you! Stop lying!"
"Oh, playing dumb now?"
Liu Muye chuckled and picked up his phone from the table, playing back a recording.
["I only took three thousand from you last time."]
"See? Proof right here." Liu Muye waved the phone, a cold grin curling his lips. "If you think you can skip out on my debt, I’ve got ten thousand ways to ruin you."
"You—you—" Han Tianming stuttered, fear flashing in his eyes. He shot a furious glare at his daughter. "It’s you, isn’t it? You little jinx! You latched onto this punk to screw me over, didn’t you? You worthless brat, I should’ve—"
CRACK!
Before he could finish, Liu Muye hurled an empty rice bowl straight at his head. The bowl shattered into pieces on the floor.
Just yesterday, Han Juyou had cracked the back of his skull with a lunchbox, leaving a fresh scab. Now, Liu Muye’s bowl split his forehead open, blood gushing down his face.
Liu Muye stood and loomed over the man, disdain dripping from his gaze. "A man who only takes his anger out on his own child—you call yourself a father?"
"She’s mine! How I treat her is none of your damn business!" Han Tianming clenched his fists and swung at Liu Muye’s face.
But Liu Muye was ready. The moment he saw the punch coming, he kicked hard at the man’s shin.
THUD!
The punch missed as Han Tianming collapsed to his knees.
"Like throwing hands, huh?"
"Where’s all that big talk now?"
A middle-aged drunkard with a gambling addiction and a wrecked body was no match for a young, strong man like Liu Muye. Two more kicks to the gut, and Han Tianming was curled up on the floor, wheezing in pain.
"Cough… cough…"
"I’ll call the cops! I’ll have you locked up, you psycho!"
"Oh?" Liu Muye shrugged, utterly unfazed. "Go ahead. Need me to dial for you?"
He raised his foot to kick again, but Han Juyou stopped him.
"Don’t. Your life’s worth more than his. No point rotting in jail over trash like him."
As much as Han Juyou wished her father would drop dead, she couldn’t let Liu Muye be the one to do it. She refused to drag him down with her.
Liu Muye jabbed a finger at Han Tianming, snarling, "Hear that? Even now, your daughter’s begging for mercy for you. And you still think about selling her off? You’re not even human!"
"Cough… cough…"
Han Tianming tried to retort, but his coughing fit left him speechless. All he could do was glare hatefully at Liu Muye.
"The hell you staring at?"
SLAP!
Liu Muye didn’t hold back—his palm cracked against Han Tianming’s face with enough force to kill.
This was a fictional world, after all, and with his status as a top-tier rich heir, what did he have to fear?
...
BANG BANG BANG!
"Open the damn door!"
"Han Tianming, you son of a bitch! If you don’t pay up today, I’ll burn this place to the ground!"
"We saw you come home! Quit hiding and get out here!"
The moment Liu Muye’s slap landed, furious pounding erupted at the door, accompanied by vicious threats.
"Oh no—it’s the loan sharks who beat up my mom!" Han Juyou grabbed Liu Muye’s arm, panic in her voice. "Let me handle this. You need to hide!"
"I’m not the type to hide behind a woman." Liu Muye glanced at Han Tianming, still sprawled on the floor like a dead dog, and smirked. "These are the guys who put your mom in the hospital?"
"Yeah." Han Juyou studied his expression nervously. "Wh-what are you thinking?"
"An eye for an eye, of course."
Liu Muye strode into the kitchen, snatched the cleaver Han Juyou had been using to chop vegetables, and marched toward the door.
Debt collectors? He’d dealt with them before.
Back when he was barely ten, his father wasn’t home, and a group of thugs had cornered his mother. Desperate, he’d grabbed the sharpest cleaver in the kitchen, charged out, and started swinging.
He’d slashed one collector’s leg so deep the bone was visible. Another lost half a finger trying to wrestle the blade from him.
That sheer brutality had sent them all running.
That night, he’d cut ties with his father for good—never speaking another word to him, even when his mother died.
If he hadn’t been afraid as a kid, why would he be now?
CREAK.
The door swung open, and the shouting died instantly.
The gang of thugs outside froze, staring at Liu Muye standing there with a cleaver in hand.
One of them double-checked the house number, then the yellow-haired punk asked, "Isn’t this Han Tianming’s place? Who the hell are you?"
"You mean him?" Liu Muye jerked his thumb at Han Tianming, still lying in a pathetic heap by the door, a pool of blood staining the floor from his earlier head wound.
The thugs took in the scene—the blood, the cleaver—and their bravado evaporated. They paled, assuming Liu Muye was in the middle of silencing a witness.
"Uh… bro, didn’t realize you were… collecting too. We’ll, uh… come back another day—"
They turned to bolt.
"Hey hey hey, don’t run! Let’s chat."
Liu Muye yanked them inside before they could escape.
As the door locked behind them, a wicked grin spread across his face.
"Huh?"
"Ah!"
"Aah~~"
"Arrgh—!"
The room echoed with blood-curdling screams, the kind that sounded utterly agonized, helpless, and pitiful. Just hearing them was enough to know how badly they were getting beaten.
...
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?
