Chapter 1
A world that was once a place where a giant palace of wonder stood— where people lived and thrived to become strong—we were now in ruins.
A man with a white beard, looking old yet still possessing great vitality, stood with a straight and unyielding back. Covered in blood, he faced an endless army.
Countless bodies lay scattered across the land, as if a great war had consumed the entire world and its people.
The elder stood there, knowing he would die, yet showing no fear—only pure determination in his eyes.
"Dad… it's done."
The voice echoed in his mind.
The sudden voice did not startle him. Instead, he let out a sigh of relief.
"Good… now at least our bloodline will survive," he replied through his thoughts.
With a deep sigh, he murmured,
"I never thought the day of our ascension would become the day of our destruction."
"It doesn't matter… as long as our bloodline survives. Our future generations will bring glory to us," said the old man with firm conviction.
"Now, the only thing left… is to take as many lives as we can to our grave."
A terrifying killing intent burst from his body.
With a thunderous roar, the old man charged forward, his aura shaking the very fabric of space itself.
After an unknown period of time, everything fell silent.
The battlefield, once filled with chaos, had turned eerily quiet.
The old man lay on the ground, his body riddled with countless wounds.
Around him, the army that once seemed endless was now scattered—lifeless
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In the World of Asher…
Inside a moving car—
Ring… Ring…
A young man in his twenties, seated in the back seat, picked up the call.
"…Yes, speak."
"Good morning, sir. The Chief of Saym Industry is currently waiting in our guest hall. He wishes to have a meeting with you," said his secretary.
The young man frowned slightly.
"Oh? Why would he want to meet me?"
"I don't know, boss."
"Alright. Keep him company. I'll be there in five minutes."
"Okay, boss."
After ending the call, the young man leaned back, deep in thought.
Why would the Chief of Saym Industry want to meet me?
He held a high position in the country, but even then, this was unexpected.
Saym Industry wasn't just a single company—it was a massive alliance of multiple industries combined. As its chief, that man stood at the very top.
In essence, he could influence the entire nation's supply and demand chain on his own.
Moreover, Saym Industry held significant power within the current ruling government.
And yet, he was merely the owner of a real estate company—one he had inherited from his father, who had passed away just a year ago.
As the sole heir, he had no choice but to take control of the entire business.
'Doesn't matter… I'll know in a few minutes.'
A few minutes later, the car came to a stop in front of the company building.
The young man stepped out and walked straight toward the elevator, heading for the guest hall on the seventh floor.
The building stood seven stories tall, its exterior covered in glass, giving it a sleek and modern appearance.
The seventh floor, however, was different—it was specially designed as the executive floor. It housed luxurious facilities for hosting guests, conducting board meetings, and other high-level discussions.
As he walked toward the elevator, employees greeted him with respect.
It wasn't just because he was their boss.
There was genuine admiration in their eyes.
At such a young age, he had managed to stabilize the company after his father's death. Not only that, he had introduced several new policies that were already showing promising results, pushing the company toward even greater heights.
Some even said he would one day surpass his father.
Soon, he arrived at the guest hall.
Inside, a man in his forties sat comfortably on a sofa. A secretary stood beside him, while two bodyguards remained stationed just behind.
As the man noticed the young owner entering, he immediately stood up with a polite smile.
"Good morning, Mr. Ashbound," he said, extending his hand for a handshake.
The young man's name was Ansh Ashbound.
Ansh stepped forward, extended his hand, and shook it firmly.
"Good morning to you, Mr. Drake."
After the brief exchange of greetings, both men took their seats, while their secretaries stood quietly at their respective sides.
"I apologize for keeping you waiting," Ansh began.
He knew very well that someone like Mr. Drake held immense power, and he didn't want to come across as disrespectful.
Mr. Drake let out a light laugh.
"Hahaha, there's no need for that. We were the ones who came without prior notice—you don't need to apologize."
Ansh nodded slightly, then went straight to the point.
"I was wondering why someone like you would want to meet with me."
Mr. Drake's smile widened.
"Straight to the point, huh? Good… I like that."
His expression soon turned serious.
"Can we speak in private?"
Noticing the shift in tone, Ansh gave a slight nod to his secretary.
Understanding the signal, both secretaries quietly left the hall, along with Mr. Drake's attendants.
Now alone, Mr. Drake leaned forward slightly and said,
"The reason I came here is simple… I want you to fight one of the wrestlers in a ring."
Ansh was visibly taken aback.
"Fight… a wrestler?" he repeated, frowning slightly. "Mr. Drake, I left wrestling two years ago."
"Indeed, he had been a wrestler before inheriting the company—and not just any wrestler, but a famous one.
At just twenty years old, he had become a two-time world champion. In all his matches, he had never lost a single fight.
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Mr. Drake replied calmly. "And I'm not asking you to return to wrestling. I only want you to fight one match."
Ansh frowned slightly.
"But why me? Aren't there plenty of wrestlers you could hire for this?"
Mr. Drake shook his head.
"No. Every top wrestler this year has already lost to him at least once. He is the current world champion."
He paused before continuing,
"Not only that, before coming to you, I even tried hiring last year's champion. The fight was tough… but in the end, he still lost."
Ansh's brows furrowed as he processed the information.
Seeing his reaction, Mr. Drake spoke again,
"So I have no other choice but to come to you… the 'Undefeated Champion'… to face him."
Hearing that title, Ansh's eye twitched in annoyance.
It was a nickname given to him by the media—one he absolutely despised.
Whenever someone used it, he couldn't help but curse the person who had come up with such a cringe-worthy title.
Ansh couldn't help but feel puzzled.
'He's gone to great lengths just to defeat this wrestler… The reason behind this surely isn't as simple as it seems.'
After all, as the Chief of Syam Industry, someone like Mr. Drake wouldn't normally concern himself with a mere wrestler.
Even if that wrestler was a world champion sponsored by a rival industry association, it still wouldn't be enough to trouble a man of his stature—let alone push him to personally seek out help.
Unable to hold back his curiosity, Ansh asked,
"May I know why you want to defeat this wrestler, Mr. Drake?"
Mr. Drake smiled faintly.
"I don't just want you to defeat him…" he said calmly. "…I want you to cripple him."
" What?!" Ansh exclaimed, startled.
Mr. Drake continued, his tone turning colder,
"That's because he has another identity. He is the current leader of the Boros Gang. I'm sure you've heard of them."
Ansh's expression turned serious as he nodded.
Who hadn't heard of the Boros Gang?
They were one of the most notorious organizations in the country—deeply involved in illegal activities such as human trafficking, drug distribution, and assassinations.
Their network spread far and wide across the nation.
There were even reports that the gang was expanding rapidly.
Many local gangs had already surrendered and come under their control.
Mr. Drake continued,
"Recently, this gang has been making significant moves. All of it started after he was appointed as the new leader. It's obvious he's the one behind it."
He paused briefly before his tone turned colder.
"I don't care what they do among themselves. But recently, our rival industry association struck a deal with them. Because of that, they've begun interfering with our business—blocking trade routes, damaging our goods, and even attacking some of our facilities."
"We've already suffered considerable losses."
"This cannot continue… or the damage will only keep increasing."
Hearing this, Ansh finally understood why Mr. Drake wanted the wrestler crippled.
If that man was the root of the problem, then removing him would likely bring everything back to normal.
But still…
As the chief of such a powerful organization, Mr. Drake should have had many other ways to deal with this—like eliminating the man through assassination.
That would have been far simpler.
So why choose to cripple him through a wrestling match?
Ansh chose not to voice that thought.
He wasn't foolish enough to ask such a dangerous question.
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