“Don’t you dare call me ‘Master.’ I’ve got no student like you.”

A wave of silence swept through the Northbridge precinct as Bruce Burbidge’s roar echoed off the walls. The officers moved with exaggerated caution, even their breathing barely audible, afraid of getting dragged into the storm.

“Rafe Marginson, you think you’re hot stuff just because you’re a division chief now?”

“Do you seriously not know what kind of mess Northbridge is?”

“It's a borderline area—sketchy crowd, short on staff, crap gear. We’ve got maybe twenty people, four beat-up bikes, and three scooters. That’s it.”

“I can’t even grab a bus to head to the division meetings. I’m riding a damn tricycle.”

“And I put up with all that. Fine. No matter how rough it gets, it’s not worse than back in the army.”

“But you send me *this*? What the heck kind of personnel decision is this supposed to be?”

“I get it—top recruits don’t want to come to Northbridge. I’m not complaining.”

“But you dump a total wreck on me? What’s that about?”

Bruce gripped the rookie's file so tightly it was about to rip apart.

The photo showed a chubby guy with a dull expression. Calling it “chubby and cute” would be generous. Truthfully, he looked straight-up dim.

Sure, he was tall—around six feet—which could’ve been a plus when facing criminals.

But two hundred and twenty freakin' pounds?

That’s not intimidation, that’s just excessive baggage.

How'd he even get into the academy with that on him?

Even if he used connections, four years in a militarized, high-discipline police school—what, no impact on his waistline?

And the grades... made Bruce want to flip his desk.

Physical training, criminology, interrogation, crime scene work, analysis, hand-to-hand, firearms—you name it, he passed *exactly* on the line.

In police academy rules, one failed subject means no diploma. Which means this guy barely squeaked through to qualify for internship.

And if anyone believed the instructors didn’t fudge his grades just to get him out the door, they’d believe in unicorns too.

Out of 378 grads this year, this guy was dead last. No contest.

Bruce had been running Northbridge for two decades. To him, the precinct wasn’t just a job—it was family.

Now someone dumped a liability in his lap. Of course, he was pissed.

“You’re trying to tell me this loser’s actually talented? You think I’m some gullible toddler?”

“Listen up, Rafe—either you replace him, or I’m done being your mentor.”

He slammed the phone down with a force that shook the desk.

***

On the city bus headed to Northbridge, Percival Wright—our so-called new recruit—was sprawled out in one of the priority seats, flipping through a novel with a leering grin.

His pudgy cheeks twitched with amusement under flushed ears that stuck out comically.

Definitely not reading anything wholesome.

"Next stop—Nanming. Passengers, please exit through the middle doors."

"Following stop—end of the line: Northbridge."

The bus eased to a stop. Doors opened, more passengers climbed aboard.

Most noticeable—a grandmother carrying a sleeping child, followed closely by a daughter-in-law helping out.

Every guy on the bus locked eyes on the woman in her early thirties.

Tiny top, bare midriff, collarbones you could float goldfish in. Slim waist, dense cleavage.

Cut-off denim shorts showed off smooth, pale legs that could stall traffic.A pair of crystal heels made her long legs even more eye-catching.

As soon as she got on, Percival Wright closed his book, his small eyes glued to her like he’d never seen a woman before. His big round head followed her every step like some kind of radar.

She shot him a disgusted glare before helping an elderly woman to the back row and taking a seat.

The other men looked away awkwardly—after all, no one wanted to be caught staring. Keep some dignity, right?

But Percival just kept gawking like he was frozen.

The bus pulled away from the station.

"Welcome aboard Bus 906. Next stop: final destination, Beiqiao."

With the announcement, Percival stood up, swaying with the motion of the bus as he staggered toward the back.

Everyone watched with curiosity.

Stopping just ahead of the last row, he stared straight at the woman.

"Hey beauty, how much?"

The moment he spoke, every passenger wanted to slap him. Was he serious?

"You’re disgusting!" the woman snapped.

“Good eye! Quickie for 500, all night 1200. Big, strong, knows what to do—guaranteed satisfaction. So, what’s it gonna be?”

People were dumbfounded. Was he trying to buy or... sell?

The woman, eyes blazing with anger, spat: “Even if you were free, I wouldn't touch you.”

There were four seats in the back. One was empty, and a man sat in another, staring in disbelief.

He finally stood up, unable to stomach what he was seeing.

"You son of a—"

Before he could finish, Percival grabbed his arm, twisted it down, and the angry words turned to screams.

With his other hand, Percival tapped the guy’s face mockingly.

"Who do you think you are? Playing hero for some random chick? Sit down."

Then he shoved the guy so hard he nearly fell flat.

Everyone else fell silent. No one dared make a sound.

Nowadays, people barely manage their own problems. No one wants to get punched trying to help a stranger.

Especially not by someone who looks like a literal bear.

“Mess around again and I’m calling the cops!” the bus driver shouted.

“I’m Percival Wright from West City. I’ve got a Dragon Slayer Blade, hacked my way from Bolan Street to Mong Kok. Go ahead and try calling—I dare you! I’ll bring my crew and slice you up!”

The driver shut up immediately, eyes on the road.

With even the driver cowed, the other passengers just shrank into their seats.

Feeling pleased with himself, Percival grinned at the woman.

“See that? I’m the boss. Wanna roll with me?”

The elderly lady sitting beside the woman, holding a baby, had had enough.

“You think people are scared of you? Try touching me.”

She stood and shoved at him.

In most people’s minds, a guy won’t hit a woman.

But Percival wasn’t most people. He yanked the baby from her arms with one hand, grabbed her hair with the other, and slammed her down hard.

She couldn’t do anything against his strength and landed on the floor face-first.

The woman jumped up, trying to check on her.

Percival didn’t hesitate. A brutal slap landed across her face.

Smack.

The sound echoed through the bus.The woman, along with everyone else on the bus, was completely stunned.