King of Clubs

His own parents?

Zhou Ke froze for a moment, his grip on the pistol trembling slightly.

His parents had never mentioned anything about Divine Cards or supernatural abilities.

Growing up, his family had been extremely poor.

Because of this, he had always believed his parents were ordinary civilians with no connection to nobility or the supernatural.

And yet...

Since childhood, Zhou Ke had been haunted by a recurring dream.

In it, strangers broke into his home, flames engulfed everything, and his parents died tragically.

He, still a young child, hid under the bed, trembling helplessly.

In her final moments, his mother desperately uttered [one sentence] to him.

But no matter how hard he tried, Zhou Ke could never recall what those words were.

Her voice hadn’t been soft—he should have heard it clearly.

It was her last words—how could he not remember?

He had tried everything to recall them, exhausting every method.

Yet the memory seemed erased.

Every attempt to remember brought unbearable headaches.

"Quit stalling. Time to go," the black-clad man urged, growing impatient as Zhou Ke hesitated to pull the trigger.

Zhou Ke closed his eyes.

He didn’t want to die.

Not before uncovering his mother’s last words.

Not before unraveling the secrets of the Divine Cards.

Was there a way... to survive?

As if guided by instinct, his lips parted, and an eerie incantation spilled out:

"【Plum Blossom】establishes all laws, 【Monarch】decrees the will of heaven."

The moment the words left his mouth, even Zhou Ke himself looked surprised.

He had never heard this phrase before, yet it flowed from his tongue as naturally as if he’d known it all his life.

Instantly, the playing card in his pocket burned hot.

【King of Clubs: Unconditionally alter the probability of an event.】

Ah.

Zhou Ke understood immediately.

He had seen others use Divine Cards before.

They, too, had chanted strange verses.

Without realizing it, he had just activated the King of Clubs’ supernatural ability.

Before his eyes, a number flickered wildly.

It started at one hundred, then plummeted rapidly—down to zero.

This number represented the probability of the bullet firing.

In that instant, the odds shifted from 100% to 0%.

Zhou Ke opened his eyes, his gaze sharp and unwavering.

All traces of anxiety had vanished.

His voice was calm, almost elegant, as he stared at the assassin across from him:

"I’m a magician."

"Throughout my career, there’s one line I’ve always loved to say..."

"A magician never fails—"

"You’ve simply fallen for an exquisitely crafted illusion."

Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

Click.

The sixth round. The final chamber of Russian roulette. The gun’s last shot—

Was empty.

The black-clad man’s face twisted in shock, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Staring dumbfounded at Zhou Ke, he stammered after a long pause:

"How...? Impossible!"

"That was the last bullet! The probability was 100%—it should have fired!"

Zhou Ke remained composed, casually tossing the pistol back to him.

"Maybe it misfired."

"Or maybe there was never a bullet to begin with."

"Or perhaps... I performed a flawless magic trick."

"Either way—"

"Your turn now."

"Russian roulette, seventh round."

The assassin’s hands trembled as he took the gun.

Pressing it against his temple, he growled:

"No... The organization doesn’t make mistakes!"

"There has to be a bullet in here..."

Zhou Ke’s voice was serene. "There is. This one’s yours."

"And unless I’m mistaken, you’re bound by the rules of this exam too, aren’t you?"

"Go ahead. Pull the trigger."

"Only then can I leave."

The assassin’s trembling gradually stilled.

He looked at Zhou Ke with eerie calm.

"You’re sharp. Too sharp."

"Showing off your brilliance isn’t always wise."

"If you’d played dumb, you might have lived."

"But now... you’ve proven you have the qualities of your bloodline."

"You can’t be allowed to live."

He pointed to the black skull emblem on the back of his hand, then upward at the sky.

"This duel... my superiors were watching."

"They’ll be even more determined to eliminate you now."

"If I die... the next assassin won’t be far behind."

Zhou Ke met his gaze, then tilted his head toward the sky.

"Sorry, but I’ve never been one to hide my edge."

"Nor do I see the need."

"Send as many killers as you want."

"I’ll kill every last one."

The assassin froze. Then—

BANG!!!

His skull exploded, blood splattering across the table.

The Skull Society’s assassin was dead.

On the blackboard at the front of the exam hall, words materialized:

[Test complete.]

[Winner: Zhou Ke.]

Zhou Ke rose gracefully and bowed.

"And thus... the magic show concludes."

He plucked a tissue, dabbing the blood from his face.

[Preparing to transport you out of the exam venue.]

Bit by bit, his body dissolved into particles of light before vanishing entirely.

The next moment, he reappeared beside the school’s testing pod, stepping out of the neural-link helmet.

"Well... that was quite the exam," he mused, stretching lazily as he strolled out of the transfer chamber.

"Though that assassin was a bit too dramatic. Talked way too much."

He blinked, noticing the crowd around him.

"Huh? Why’s everyone gathered here? Exams over?"

Dozens of stunned eyes locked onto him.

Chen Yun stepped forward, her voice hoarse with disbelief.

"That man you just killed... was a Skull Society assassin."

"The Skull Society... has never failed before."

......

Back in his own home, Zhou Ke reviewed the day’s events.

His magic show spectator—the woman in red—turned out to be a professor from a school for the supernaturally gifted.

She’d dragged him into an elite academy’s entrance exam.

And somehow... he’d ended up in first place.

Not that it was surprising. He was the only survivor of the second test.

With a death occurring during the exam, the third round had been postponed until after enrollment.

Officially, all participants now qualified for admission.

Before he left, Professor Chen Yun had insisted on assigning him a security detail.

Zhou Ke refused.

He didn’t want bodyguards hovering around him—it’d feel more like surveillance than protection.

For eighteen years, he’d survived alone, solving every crisis by himself.

Solitude was what he knew best.

He retrieved the JOKER card once more.

After using its probability-altering ability, the King of Clubs had reverted to its jester form, dormant until its next activation.

Supernatural abilities, Divine Cards, elite schools, and assassins...

He recalled the last words of the dying assassin:

["Do you not remember your parents?"]

["You've displayed qualities befitting your bloodline."]

["They are now even more determined to eliminate you."]

Why would someone want him dead?

Why did the assassin mention his parents?

What were his mother’s final words before she passed?

The assassin’s last warning echoed in his mind:

["The next assassin will come soon."]

Zhou Ke didn’t know how soon "soon" was.

He only knew he would be ready.

......

The next day.

Zhou Ke woke up early and prepared to head to school for registration.

On his way, countless luxury cars sped past him.

Rolls-Royces, Ferraris, Porsches...

Suddenly, a thought struck him.

These extravagant cars were reserved for the elite.

And only the elite possessed Divine Cards and supernatural abilities.

Could it be...?