Li Ruo opened his eyes in darkness, reborn as the universally despised “true young master” of the Li chaebol from a novel—a beautiful but useless waste with E-rank mental power and nothing to his name but his face.

When he awoke, the original owner had already alienated everyone, banished to the remote old family mansion to “reflect.”

Outside, the source of all the original owner’s tragic fate—a group of burly thugs lusting after Li Ruo’s beauty—had just pried open the mansion’s gate and were storming straight for his bedroom.

Li Ruo, frail and feverish: Excellent.

By the time the butler received the alarm and rushed to the mansion with the police hot on his heels, they found the floors slick with blood.

Their “useless young master” stood drenched in gore, yet he sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, calmly fingering the Buddhist prayer beads left behind by the old matriarch. His stunningly beautiful face, far from showing fear, radiated an boundless tranquility and Zen-like calm.

Upon returning to the Li family, Li Ruo requested one thing: a game pod for Miracle.

The newly released holographic game Miracle exploded in popularity the moment it launched. Its near-100% realism, exquisitely fantastical yet incredibly immersive world, and unprecedented ability to stimulate and strengthen mental power made it an overnight sensation.

Netizens, always on the front lines of gossip, immediately caught wind of Li Ruo’s latest self-destructive stunt, especially given the recent scandals swirling around him.

“No way. That useless waste from the Li family is actually going to play Miracle? With his E-rank mental power? Is he trying to get his brain fried into mush by the mental energy feedback?”

“Tch, that waste is practically a moron already. What’s the difference?”

“Place your bets, place your bets! How long until the waste offs himself? I’m betting three days.”

But no one knew that before becoming Li Ruo, he was known as Shixue. With a lowly mortal body, he had challenged the gods themselves, wielding a dagger like a dazzling meteor streaking through the night to slay the God of Light.

Alas, meteors burn out quickly. Betrayed, he fell in the very next moment after his deicide.

Gazing at this familiar yet alien scene, the cold, suppressed flames in Li Ruo’s chest roared back to life.

All the resentment, fury, and the eternally unquenchable fire in his heart would incinerate every last damned god before it finally consumed him to ash.

When gossipmongers dug up the fact that the infamous waste Li Ruo had chosen the Assassin class in the game, the entire web exploded.

“Who the hell still plays Assassin in this day and age? Isn’t it just a teamfight support? What can it even do besides setting traps and pulling mobs? Squishy, no damage… even mecha squads have replaced scout mechs with probe drones.”

“If he actually makes a name for himself, I’ll let him kick my head around like a soccer ball.”

“Don’t be so harsh. After all, he’s a half-cripple with E-rank mental power. What other class could he possibly handle? Hahaha.”

However, the masked youth in black, dagger in hand, soloed bosses far above his level and slaughtered his way through ambushes, cutting down countless in-game experts like a whistling meteor.

Countless bodies fell in his wake, yet he never looked back, vanishing silently into the darkness without a trace, leaving no one to find him.

The crowd: “…”

They watched helplessly as the infamous waste pulled further and further away, reaching a place they could never touch, until he stood face-to-face with the game’s supreme god.

Here’s a joke: the Assassin is a support class.

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