Chapter One: The Subway Thief

Squeezing into the subway during rush hour is a uniquely agonizing ordeal. Yet, under certain circumstances, it can turn into a peculiar kind of pleasure. For instance, if a stunning beauty happens to be standing just in front of you, the more crowded the subway is, the better.

At this moment, Jack Yang was precisely such a lucky man. An alluring woman in a skimpy outfit was pressed almost entirely against his chest. Initially, Jack considered edging away slightly, but as he shifted back, the woman leaned in closer. At first, he was puzzled, but in the next instant, understanding dawned on him. He smiled faintly, accepting this stroke of fortune that most men could only dream of.

One stop, two stops, three stops...

With every station, a tide of passengers ebbed and flowed, yet this woman seemed hellbent on maintaining her close contact, as though determined to offer Jack a chance to take advantage of her. Jack, of course, knew exactly what she was up to, but he feigned nonchalance, observing this delicately beautiful woman with a hint of shyness in her expression.

After two more stops, the woman finally began to show signs of unease. When the doors opened at the next station, she swiftly exited the train.

Outside the subway, she let out a long, relieved breath, muttering to herself that she hoped he wasn’t a pauper—otherwise, she would have suffered quite a loss. She’d been in this line of work for years, but never before had she paid such a “price.”

In a deserted corner, she flicked her wrist; as if by magic, a black wallet appeared in her pale hand. She quickly flipped it open, only to frown deeply. “Turns out he’s broke!”

She cursed, inwardly railing against the penniless fool who had gotten so much out of her. The crumpled notes within were so pitiful even she was loath to keep them. Just as she was about to toss the offending wallet into the trash, a man’s voice sounded behind her.

“Miss, even a mosquito is still meat. After letting someone take advantage of you for so long, you can’t leave without any compensation, can you?”

She froze, spinning around to see a thoroughly unremarkable man, both in dress and appearance. He was slightly built, with an unhealthy pallor to his face—hardly the sort to be called handsome. Yet, upon seeing him, her heart lurched violently, and without a word she turned to flee.

Jack watched her dash away with amusement, rubbing his nose before darting forward and effortlessly seizing her.

“Let me go! What are you doing?” She struggled fiercely, but his grip on her shoulder was like an iron vice, rendering her completely immobile.

“Help! Someone’s harassing me…” she cried, resorting to her usual tactic for escaping such predicaments. But halfway through her plea, a searing pain shot through her shoulder, the man’s hand bearing down with the weight of a mountain.

“Go on, keep shouting,” Jack said, tilting his head toward the nearby security camera. “It’s all recorded. If you’d like, I could escort you to the police station.”

“No, please!” The mere thought of the police rattled her; she instantly switched to a look of pitiful vulnerability. “Sir, this is my first time. I’m just desperate—my family is poor. Please, let me go.”

A tear glistened at the corner of her eye as she spoke.

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at her convincing performance. With her looks, her figure, and her acting skills, it was almost a shame she’d chosen a life of crime instead of the stage.

In truth, Jack had spotted her intentions from the very start. From her entry onto the subway to her exit, she’d tried more than once to make her move. Given the deftness with which she’d snatched his wallet, no one in their right mind would believe it was her first time. For most, a thief like her would be impossible to guard against.

She was simply unlucky today—her mark was none other than Jack Yang. She had no way of knowing she was attempting to rob a man who had once been a legend in the mercenary world, for whom gunfire and bloodshed were as common as breathing. Her tricks were child’s play to him; even the master thief of legend would have balked.

Steal from the King of Mercenaries, the Night Owl? What a cosmic joke.

Of course, Jack hadn’t exposed her immediately for his own reasons. Squeezing onto the subway was usually a tedious hassle, but encountering such a delectable beauty was an opportunity too good to waste.

In the mercenary world, besides the moniker Night Owl, Jack was also known as the King of Threes—most kills, most women, and most self-admiration.

Checking his phone and seeing he had time to spare, Jack decided to have a little fun with the lady thief. With a teasing smile, he said, “I’ll let you go. But how will you repay me?”

As he spoke, his gaze roamed unashamedly over her alluring curves.

She understood his meaning perfectly. Head lowered, she murmured, “I live nearby.”

“Then lead the way,” Jack replied, giving her a playful pat before following her out of the station and into a narrow alley.

It was a dead-end, twisting and secluded, a place few would ever visit—let alone live in.

Jack wasn’t a fool. From the moment they left the station, he’d noticed several suspicious figures tailing them. It didn’t take a genius to guess what was coming.

When the time was right, Jack turned to the woman and spoke softly, “Be good and wait here for a bit. I’ll go buy some... protection. Safety first, you know.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” she replied, spinning around. Gone was the pitiful act; her eyes glinted with malice and scorn. “In fact, I think you’ll never need that again.”

“Are you sure?” Jack asked, touching his nose with a faux-serious look.

At that moment, seven or eight thugs sprang from the shadows, surrounding Jack. Their leader was a burly bald man with a thick gold chain swinging from his neck. He addressed the woman, “Sister Dragon, what’s the plan?”

“What else? This penniless bastard took advantage of me—do what you must!” She jabbed a finger toward Jack’s groin. “Cut it off and feed it to the dogs!”

With her command, the bald brute drew a gleaming knife and sneered, “Kid, I’m sending you to meet your ancestors today. Don’t try anything, unless you want—”

Before he could finish, a dull thud resounded. An indescribable agony exploded between his legs, and cold sweat instantly drenched his forehead.

Jack looked at him coolly. “A civil servant in ancient times sounds like a cushy job—maybe you should take it instead.”

“Kill him!” the bald man roared, voice ragged with pain.

The other thugs, only now realizing what had happened, moved in. None of them had even seen Jack make his move, yet their leader was already down. Still, street brawling was their bread and butter; they brandished their weapons and closed in on him.

Jack sent the first attacker flying with a single kick, then sidestepped to sweep two more off their feet. A sharp backward elbow caught another thug in the gut, folding him to the ground, clutching his stomach in agony.

The last one fared worst of all, knocked out cold by a rapid barrage of punches.

With the rabble swiftly dispatched, Jack dusted off his hands and turned to the gaping woman. “Are you sure you don’t need any protection?”

Before she could answer, Jack approached, slipped an arm gently around her shoulders, and whispered in her ear, “Well then, I’ll do as you wish.”

He kept his arm around her as they walked deeper into the alley. Jack had seen his share of wild affairs, but he still preferred some privacy.

“Oh, and if anyone comes by, let me know,” he called gently to one of the less-injured thugs. “Otherwise, I’ll add you to the ranks of ancient civil servants. Understood?”

The thug, paralyzed with fear, nodded mechanically. He’d been in his fair share of fights, but never anything like this—he hadn’t even seen Jack’s moves, only felt his collarbone snap like a twig. The sheer dominance of this man left his legs trembling.

The female thief was equally stunned. She knew the fighting prowess of her cohorts; every one of them had real skills and street experience. They’d lost before, but never had they been flattened in seconds.

Perhaps it was some form of Stockholm syndrome, but as Jack gently wrapped his arm around her, she felt an unprecedented sense of safety. When he whispered, “I’ll do as you wish,” it was as if all the strength drained from her body.

At the end of the alley, Jack leaned in close and murmured, “You stole my wallet just now. Now, I want you to steal my heart.”

As he spoke, his hand moved to the crystal strap on her bare shoulder…