South City High School, Class 3-B.
The bell hadn't even rung when the classroom exploded into gossip. Students leaned over desks and whispered in half-shouted tones, their voices buzzing with disbelief.
"Leon Fang's back? Didn't he, like… almost die?"
"I heard he was foaming at the mouth during military drills."
"Maybe he just wanted attention. Guy's always been weak."
At the back of the room, Jake Lin cracked his knuckles and smirked. Tall, athletic, and arrogant, he ruled the classroom with little more than threats and a swagger that came from being the son of a logistics tycoon.
"Looks like I'll get another punching bag today," he muttered.
Then, the door creaked open.
Leon stepped inside.
He wore the standard blazer, but somehow, it looked like a cloak of quiet authority draped over him. His eyes swept the room—not with timidity, but with a calm that unnerved.
Some students instinctively stopped whispering.
Jake's smirk widened. "Well, well. The dead rise. Should've stayed in the morgue, Fang."
Leon walked toward his seat without flinching. "Still running your mouth, Jake? Some things never change."
Murmurs shot through the class.
"Did he just talk back to Jake?"
"Leon? Talking back?"
Jake stood, arms spread theatrically. "What was that? You've been reborn with a sense of humor?"
Leon turned, his gaze razor-sharp. "No. Just a better sense of who's worth my time."
The room went dead silent.
Jake's expression darkened. "You think that near-death crap gives you courage?"
Leon tilted his head. "No, just clarity."
In a blink, Jake lunged. His arm swung in a practiced arc, aiming to shove Leon against the wall like he always used to.
But Leon wasn't the same.
He side-stepped with fluid precision, caught Jake's wrist midair, and with a slight twist—sent him crashing onto the classroom floor.
Chairs scraped back. Gasps filled the air.
Jake lay there, groaning, clutching his wrist.
Leon looked down at him. "You should thank me. That's the softest fall you'll ever get from me."
A girl near the window whispered, "Did he just—did he break Jake's balance like nothing?"
Before anyone could process what happened, the classroom door opened again.
A breathless administrator poked his head in. "Leon Fang?"
Leon turned.
"Yes."
"The principal requests you immediately. There's... someone waiting."
Leon raised a brow, but followed without a word.
The whispers resumed behind him like a wave.
"Did you see that?!"
"He flipped Jake. With one move."
"Who the hell is this guy now?"
—
In the corridor, the administrator struggled to keep up with Leon's pace.
"They arrived in a government car," he stammered. "Said it was Ministry-related, some inheritance process, we... we didn't know what to do..."
Leon said nothing.
He could already sense it—spiritual energy faintly resonating from the guest lounge ahead. A presence. Familiar. Controlled.
He paused just before entering.
In his past life, he'd died while protecting people who stabbed him in the back. He had trusted too easily. Laughed too often. Loved too hard.
This life?
He was no longer the lion caged in a classroom.
He had just begun to roar.