Transmigrated as the Fake Young Master, I’ll Beat up the Scumbags and Bitches

Han LiTian had no time to process HuMing's actions before the gunshot rang out, snapping him back to reality.

The two crouched behind the wall, their expressions starkly different.

HuMing pressed closely against the wall, his eyes fixed on the corner as though bracing for others to appear.

When Han LiTian glanced at HuMing, he noticed his calm demeanor, devoid of any panic. It was as if such situations were commonplace for him.

Han LiTian truly couldn’t understand HuMing anymore.

To him, HuMing was the child he had raised, whose every ability and limitation he should know as a father.

Even though HuMing had changed, Han LiTian still viewed him as a child barely stepping into adulthood.

But now, standing steadfast before him, his face unflinching in the face of danger, Han LiTian realized he had never truly understood this child.

HuMing had too many secrets, a person entirely different from what he had imagined.

A pang of helplessness hit him, as though life itself was telling him he had failed as a father.

He lowered his head slightly, weariness flashing across his face, but quickly pulled himself together.

He knew he couldn’t be a burden to HuMing!

“Dad, when the chance comes, get out of here. This place has become too dangerous.”

“What about you? I can’t leave you here alone!” Han LiTian worried for Han ShuYi as well but knew it wasn’t the time to bring him up.

According to HuMing, the assassin was here to kill him, and Han ShuYi was the one who had brought them here!

Why would the assassin harm Han ShuYi?

HuMing didn’t know Han LiTian’s thoughts. He only knew that handling the situation alone was the safest option.

He didn’t want the Han family entangled in this mess, nor did he want anyone hurt because of it.

“Dad, after everything we’ve been through, do you still trust me?”

HuMing picked up a rock and hurled it in another direction. Another gunshot immediately followed, striking the wall.

“Of course I trust you. What father doesn’t trust his own child?”

HuMing froze, turning sharply to look at Han LiTian, whose serious expression showed he wasn’t joking—nor did he have any reason to.

Taking a deep breath, HuMing adjusted his plan ever so slightly.

“Then trust me. I’ll handle this, and I’ll bring Han ShuYi back to you.”

“Are you sure you can do it?”

“Of course I can. After all, I’m HuMing.”

Hearing that name, Han LiTian’s thoughts wandered.

‘That’s right. He’s no longer Han HuMing, he’s now HuMing.’

Perhaps he understood Han HuMing well, but this HuMing was a mystery.

Staying would only cause more trouble.

Resolving himself, Han LiTian nodded slightly and waited for HuMing’s move.

HuMing picked up a rock, his eyes scanning a specific direction.

Based on the earlier gunshots, the enemy was drawing closer.

Now, he had to distract them.

Suddenly, HuMing hurled the rock at a light bulb. The sound of shattering glass was followed by another gunshot, but HuMing had already darted out in that instant.

The assailant fired repeatedly at HuMing’s shadow, yet failed to graze him.

Meanwhile, HuMing had already loaded his handgun.

One was a weapon taken from Sui Zhao, handed to Han ShuYi. The one he wielded now had been arranged by Liang Feng.

As for the bullets, those were always in his possession.

Holding his breath, he sharpened his ears, listening for the slightest noise.

The dilapidated house mapped itself in his mind, with his ears acting as radar, catching the faintest sound.

Even though the enemy tried to tread lightly, shoes on rubble inevitably made noise.

This was precisely why HuMing had chosen this place for his meeting with Han ShuYi.

It was also the reason why Sui Zhao wasn’t killed outright.

The backup would certainly follow, monitoring everything.

Once Sui Zhao failed, they’d come to finish the job.

The enemy was cautious, leaving no loose ends.

But HuMing understood: such caution often stemmed from arrogance.

If both came at him simultaneously, the odds of success would be higher.

Still, with the opportunity presented, HuMing wouldn’t let it slip.

His ears twitched slightly. In a flash, he fired several shots into a dark corner.

A panicked scuffling came from the shadows, then silence.

Sui Zhao’s back was drenched in cold sweat as he suppressed his ragged breathing, hands trembling around his gun.

He had never faced such a situation. The fact that a high schooler could make him this tense—this terrified—was unthinkable.

The pressure HuMing exerted felt suffocating, as if his every move was under scrutiny.

In all his years as an assassin, only the most formidable peers had ever made him feel this way.

What’s going on here?

“Sui Zhao, right? Looks like someone saved you. Let me guess—your employer figured you had no chance of completing the task, so they sent backup to deal with me. Funny, isn’t it? A professional assassin who can’t even handle a high schooler. You’ll be a laughingstock in your field.”

HuMing’s voice rang out, dripping with mockery, reducing Sui Zhao to nothing.

Sui Zhao’s already unstable resolve ignited with anger.

Gripping his gun tightly, his gaze turned ferocious.

HuMing wasn’t wrong—failure would mean humiliation. He couldn’t accept that. Never.

Grabbing a rock, Sui Zhao mimicked HuMing, throwing it toward another corner.

A gunshot echoed, and Sui Zhao seized the moment to fire toward the sound. But when he stepped out from cover, he froze.

All he saw was a handgun hanging on the wall.

Its trigger was tied to a string, a decoy perfectly placed.

‘A trap!’

Before he could react, pain exploded in his leg, as if struck by a heavy object, sending him crashing to the ground.

A scream escaped as his pupils dilated in horror.

From the corner of his eye, he caught a shadow slipping past.

The silent, one-eyed figure had finally arrived.

He saw the figure raise a weapon, aiming it squarely at him…