During a mission overseas, I shielded my younger brother from an explosion—only to wake up months later, my body broken, my mind trapped in the void of a coma.

Grateful for my sacrifice, he repaid me by marrying my wife.

When I finally clawed my way back to consciousness and rushed home, I found my son kneeling on the ground, sobbing as his college acceptance letter lay shredded in his fists.

My nephew loomed over him, slamming a steel pipe into his back. "Lick my shoes clean," he sneered.

"Who are you to think you deserve an education?"

And there was my wife clapping in delight, dabbing the sweat from my nephew’s brow like a doting servant.

"You’re just like your deadbeat father," My wife spat. "Born to be my stepping stone."

My eyes bloodshot, I tightened my fists.

Every last one of them would pay for this dearly.

The school gates swung open, and several security guards rushed out, rubber batons in hand, and surrounded my son, Bran Stormbringer.

I stepped out of the car and walked over.

“Why is the school taking sides without investigating the facts?” I asked one of the guards.

“Didn’t you see those punks rip up this boy’s college acceptance letter?”

The guard spat.

“He laid a hand on John Stormbringer, the young heir of the Stormbringers. He's going to take responsibility for that!

“He's just a dog raised by the Stormbringers. Now he even dares to bite his master? It’s only right that we serve justice and help them discipline him.”

My face had been severely damaged, and reconstructive surgery and skin grafts had left me looking nothing like I once did.

Even my voice had changed from the burns—raw, unfamiliar.

My own son didn’t recognize me, and neither did my nephew, John Stormbringer.

The guards exchanged a glance, then sneered.

“Hit him! He dared challenge Mr. John Stormbringer!”

All I had were my fists, but I had survived years of bullets, blood, life, and death.

Beating a few guard dogs was hardly a challenge for me.

Their skinny arms and legs couldn’t hurt me.

One punch from me left them coughing blood on the pavement.

Bran saw me surrounded by school security and shouted, “Come at me! This man was just passing by—he has nothing to do with this!”

He tried to shield me from the guards.

Once I had floored the ones circling me, I looked up and saw Bran now surrounded by a pack of guards and a group of punks.

John jumped with excitement, yelling, “Beat him to death!”

I grabbed John by the collar, slammed him to the ground, and stomped hard, cracking his ribs beneath my boot.

Then I looked down coldly and asked, “Who were you planning to beat to death?”

John didn’t have even a sliver of Bran’s backbone.

He immediately burst into loud wailing sobs, crying out for his mom and dad.

I sent a message to my contact, asking about Bran’s recent situation.

The contact replied, saying my wife, Celina O’Neil and my younger brother, Andy, had already arranged for Bran’s direct admission—no need for exams, just to show up when the semester starts.

Yet I had just heard John, Andy's son, siding with outsiders to bully my son Bran.

I asked coldly, “This is how you handle logistical support? Expect a formal complaint to headquarters.”

After hanging up, I grabbed John by the collar and slapped him twice across the face.

“Why did you tear up Bran’s admission letter?” I demanded.

Snot and tears smeared his face as he stammered, “He scored over 600 points more than I did! I was humiliated, okay? I just wanted to vent!”

Just then, a bright red Porsche pulled up at the school gates.

John shouted excitedly, “Mom! Mom, help me! This lunatic just attacked me out of nowhere!”

I hadn’t expected to reunite with Celina under these circumstances.

She was decked out in flashy, gaudy clothes, glittering with jewelry.

Teetering on blood-red heels, she charged at me like a raging bull.

“Let go of my son!” she roared.

Her son?

I looked more closely at John.

No doubt about it—this kid had always had that weaselly, rat-faced look since childhood.

Since when had John become her son?

I blocked her chubby hand as she tried to scratch at me, and she lost her balance, falling hard to the ground.

“Useless,” John muttered under his breath disdainfully.

Then Bran stepped forward and helped her up, but Celina jabbed a stubby finger at Bran’s forehead.

“Can’t you stop stirring up trouble? Why do you always have to pick on your little brother, huh?

“You have food on the table, books to read, and I get to enjoy the good life—all thanks to Andy, isn’t it?” Celina snapped.

“Every time the school calls home, it’s either because you stole a watch or tore up John's homework!

“So what if he retaliated this once?

“You’re just like your useless, dead father!”

Bran stiffened.

“My dad is a hero. One day, he’ll come back for me!” he said sharply.

Celina spat at the ground.

“Your dead father? He’s long gone! Give it up. He’s never coming back!”

Fury surged through me.

I yanked Celina’s arm and dragged her in front of me, slapping her hard.

“You filthy woman! Look me in the face. Don’t you know who I am?

“I risked my life out there, building the fortune you’re squandering now.

“You want to chase men? Fine. But why get with Andy? And why treat Bran like dirt?”

Celina stared at me in shock as she scanned me up and down, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Then her expression twisted. She screamed, “Help! This man’s trying to abduct us! Call the police!

“Quick! Contact my husband—someone’s trying to kidnap me and my son!”

Bran looked me over, head to toe, his voice trembling as he tested the word, “Dad?”

Celina lashed out and kicked him. “Nonsense! Your real father’s long dead. You should see Andy as your father now!”

“Uncle Andy is using you!” Bran roared back.

“The whole family leeches off Dad's legacy! You think they respect you?”

Just then, several black vans pulled up one after another in front of the school, and a swarm of bodyguards stepped out, surrounding me with cold, menacing eyes.

The school’s security guards had already called the administrators out.

One of the so-called leaders, Mr. Nathan Hyde, dressed up in a suit, glared at Bran with contempt.

“You’re only here because of Mr. Andy Stormbringer’s influence, yet you’re trying to assault his son? Who can prove it was he who tore your acceptance letter?

“You ripped it up yourself and framed him.

“And now, you’re fighting at the school gates? This is a serious offense.

“Not only are you barred from university this year, but your student record has been wiped. Don’t even think about retrieving your file.

“No school will accept you now.

“If you still want an education, then get on your knees and lick the dirt off Mr. John Stormbringer’s shoes.

“Maybe, just maybe, I’ll consider letting you re-enroll and take next year’s SAT exam.”

Seeing that Andy’s bodyguards had already surrounded me, Celina raised her shrill voice and joined in.

“You little brat, didn’t you hear what he said? Get on your knees and beg for forgiveness!

“Don’t forget—your school ID is still in my hands.

“If you keep acting like your dead father, stubborn as a mule, I’ll make sure you don’t even qualify to go out and earn a living!”

All those years I had been fighting to survive abroad… and this was the abuse my son endured?

Nathan deserved to die.

I took a step forward and grabbed Nathan by the collar of his dress shirt. Then I slammed a kick into the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel before Bran.

“You said Bran tore up his own acceptance letter? Say it again. I dare you.

“You think I won’t rip you apart for that?”

Sweat poured down Nathan’s face as he writhed and shouted, “Call the police! Shoot this lunatic!”

I clamped a hand around his throat. “You don’t have much time left. Think carefully—what do you have to do to make me spare your pathetic life?”

Celina fumbled with her phone, stammering incoherently as she called the police.

My phone buzzed with a new message.

My personal file had just been declassified.

A dedicated security detail had been assigned to me immediately.

Headquarters had requested my return to discuss my reintegration into civilian life and finalize my benefits package.

But right now, I didn’t care about those benefits. All I wanted was to help my son reclaim his dignity.

Celina laughed smugly.

“Everyone saw it! He attacked Mr. Hyde for no reason. There are plenty of witnesses here.

“Keep him surrounded. Don’t let him run. The police will be here any minute!

“We’re civilized people—we’d never lay a hand on anyone without cause.”

I was certain now that Celina had recognized me.

She knew that no one here could match me in a fight.

Even if all the bodyguards jumped in at once, the odds would still be in my favor.

This was a setup.

They were trying to pin charges on me, to get me thrown into prison.

And if they could pull some strings behind closed doors, they'd make sure I never walked out alive.

I had suspected long ago that she couldn’t be trusted.

That’s why I left money to Andy, hoping he would keep her in check.

But who would’ve thought the two snakes would fall for each other—like a pair of toads locking eyes—and end up in bed together?

Realizing I had handed them the knife they were now stabbing me with made my fists clench with rage.

Nathan struggled in my grip as he screamed for help.

Andy’s bodyguards, clearly under orders, didn’t move in to attack.

They just stood around me, forming a ring, waiting to see if I’d crush Nathan’s throat.

Hoping, perhaps, to see me gunned down in the street.

Too bad they’d be disappointed today.

I tightened my grip.

Nathan’s face turned a deep shade of purple as he gasped for air.

“Please, spare me, Sir! Mrs. Stormbringer has already called the police. You should run while you still can!”

Bran tugged gently at my sleeve and whispered, “Dad… revenge can wait. A gentleman takes his time— it’s never too late.”

I let out a cold snort. “Unless he licks your shoes clean today, I’ll crush his throat right here.”

Nathan shifted tactics, trying to reason with me through choked gasps. “Holding me hostage won’t work. The snipers will shoot you. They’re professionals—veterans.

“Let me go now, and you might still get away. That’s your best option.”

I tightened my grip and replied calmly, “Don’t worry. Even if I strangle a piece of trash like you with my bare hands, those snipers won’t be able to stop me. Trust me—I’m no rookie either.”

I raised my voice, locking eyes with him. “Still haven’t figured out what to say to save your pathetic life?”

Suddenly, sirens blared in the distance. Dozens of vehicles were pulling up.

Nathan, his voice hoarse and cracked, screamed, “You’re done for! They’re here now—just wait for the bullets! Mr. Andy Stormbringer will never let you live!”

I clenched my hand even harder.

But how could I let him die so easily?

After what he did to Bran, choking him to death here would be too merciful.

Then Celina shrieked from behind, “Help! He’s killing Mr. Hyde! Shoot the madman!”

As if on cue, the door of the lead vehicle swung open.

A tall man in uniform stepped quickly to my side and said calmly, “Commander, I’m Captain Pierce Poldark, head of your security detail.”