Jackim barely had time to breathe before Victor gestured for him to follow. Selena walked ahead, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor, her posture exuding confidence.
They led him through a series of hallways within the massive estate. The walls were lined with ancient portraits, golden chandeliers, and eerie silence. It was the kind of wealth he had only seen in movies.
After a few minutes, they stopped in front of a set of massive wooden doors.
Victor placed a hand on them. "Once you step through these doors, there's no turning back. If you refuse, you can walk away now, forget this inheritance, and go back to your miserable life."
Jackim inhaled sharply. Go back? Back to what? Begging landlords for one more week to pay rent? Eating cheap noodles for every meal? Watching as people who used to be in his life mocked him for being poor?
No. He had come too far.
His fists clenched. "Open the doors."
Victor nodded. With one push, the doors swung open, revealing a vast underground training hall.
Jackim's eyes widened. The place was enormous—high ceilings, reinforced steel walls, and various weapons displayed on racks. In the center, a group of men and women in martial arts uniforms were sparring, their movements swift and deadly.
Selena smirked. "Welcome to your new world."
Before Jackim could process what was happening, a man walked toward them. Tall, bald, and built like a mountain. His eyes were sharp, analyzing Jackim as though he could see through him.
Victor stepped aside. "This is Master Han. He will oversee your training."
Master Han studied Jackim for a moment before scoffing. "This is the boy?"
Jackim felt a surge of irritation. Again with the 'boy'?
Han turned to Victor. "He's weak. Soft. Has he ever fought in his life?"
Victor shrugged. "Not yet."
Han sighed. "This is a waste of time. Wealth means nothing here. If he can't withstand the pain, he won't last a day."
Jackim's jaw tightened. He was used to people looking down on him, but this was different. He wasn't being mocked for being poor—he was being doubted for being weak.
And somehow, that stung more.
Han crossed his arms. "Very well. If you're serious, step forward."
Jackim took a deep breath and did as he was told.
Han turned to one of the sparring students. "Liang, come here."
A young man with sharp features, wearing a sleeveless martial arts uniform, stepped forward. He looked at Jackim and smirked.
Han gestured between them. "Fight."
Jackim's stomach dropped. "Wait, what?"
Han didn't repeat himself. Liang was already moving. Fast.
Before Jackim could react, a fist connected with his ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs.
Pain exploded through his side, and he stumbled backward.
Liang didn't stop. A spinning kick sent Jackim crashing to the ground.
Laughter echoed from the other students.
Jackim coughed, gasping for air. He barely had time to process what happened before Han spoke.
"Pathetic. You think money can save you? Power comes from strength, not wealth."
Jackim groaned, pushing himself up. His entire body ached.
Selena watched him with an amused expression. "That was embarrassing."
Jackim wiped blood from his lips, his pride burning. His entire life, he had suffered humiliation, rejection, and now this?
No.
He wouldn't stay weak.
He forced himself to stand. His legs shook, but he held his ground.
"I'm not done," he muttered.
Han raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then fight again."
Jackim turned to face Liang, his heart pounding.
This time, he wouldn't go down so easily.
This time, he would fight back.
---