Chapter 1

As the heavy double doors of the Oaktown Community Gymnasium were pushed open, the scoreboard buzzer emitted a short, muffled thud.

I was delayed because several old pipes in the hardware store burst, but the moment I stepped into the stands, my eyes were instantly fixed on the center of the stadium.

My daughter, Amy, was the only player on the court with a ponytail. She used an incredibly beautiful crossover dribble to shake off two defenders. Among a group of burly boys, she looked remarkably slender, but her movements were incredibly precise.

"Whoosh—"

The basketball went through the net cleanly.

The score was reversed again.

A few scattered cheers erupted from the sidelines, but most remained silent. I followed the crowd's gaze and saw that in the front row of the VIP section, Old Davis, the town's biggest real estate developer, was staring intently at the game, his gloomy face almost dripping with anger.

In front of him, the Davis family's "pride"—his son Luke—was kicking the floor in a fit of rage.

Throughout the game, this boy, who always considered himself the core of the team, was completely overshadowed by Amy's agile movement and continuous steals.

I walked quickly to the sidelines, about to call out Amy's name.

At that moment, a sudden change occurred.

Possession changed hands, and Amy was retreating to her own half, her route not in the direction of the ball handler's attack. However, Luke, not far away, suddenly abandoned his defensive position, a hint of undisguised ferocity flashing in his eyes. Using the momentum of his run-up, in the referee's blind spot, he viciously lowered his shoulder and rammed into the unsuspecting Amy.

Amy's already slender body instantly lost its balance and crashed heavily to the floor. Due to inertia, her hands left two horrifying bloody streaks on the wooden floor.

My steps abruptly halted, and the temperature in my eyes plummeted to freezing.

In that instant, my long-dormant killing instinct almost broke free from the cage of reason.

If it were a few years ago, anyone who dared to launch such a malicious attack within my sight would have met a predetermined fate.

At that time, I was the commander of the Federal Core Strategic Operations Group, a position that many powerful enemies and high-ranking officials deeply feared.

But in order to give Amy a normal childhood away from the smoke of war and without fear, I personally sealed away the "Eagle" badge that represented high-ranking military authority.

I concealed my past achievements and brought her to this remote town, willingly becoming an ordinary hardware store owner with hands covered in machine oil.

For my daughter's basketball dream, I gritted my teeth and swallowed my murderous intent.

I believe the referee will make a fair judgment on this matter.

However, the referee, with a whistle in his mouth, only took two symbolic steps closer. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the elderly Davis sitting on the sidelines, and when his eyes met Davis's expressionless face, he made a "continue the game" gesture.

A few suppressed gasps came from the audience, but no one dared to stand up and question it.

In this small town, the Davis family's rules often work more than the rules themselves.

Instead of helping Amy up, Luke walked up to her from above, a mocking smirk playing on his lips.

“Listen, you poor mechanic’s daughter.” Luke’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough for everyone in the front row to hear clearly. “This is the elite league of Oak Town, not a place for low-class trash like you living in trailer sheds to run wild. Know your place and go back to your lousy rat hole.”

This humiliation, like a sharp carving knife, pierced the air inside the stadium.

Amy glanced at the blood seeping from her wrist, gritted her teeth, and used her elbows to push herself up steadily. Her eyes, so much like her mother's, held a coldness far beyond her years.

“On the basketball court, only skill matters, not the thickness of your father’s wallet.” Amy stared directly at Luke, who was a head taller than her, her voice calm yet firm. “If you can only cover up your incompetence with bluffing nonsense like hurting people from behind, then you don’t even deserve to be my opponent.”

An uproar ensued!

The parents in the audience exchanged bewildered glances; none of them had expected a twelve-year-old girl to say such a thing. Luke's face instantly turned a deep shade of purple, and he raised his hand in anger and embarrassment, as if he wanted to do something.

Without waiting any longer, I stepped over the advertising boards on the sidelines and strode onto the field.

My footsteps weren't heavy, but each step carried an undeniable sense of pressure. The moment I stood beside Amy, the air around us seemed to freeze.

“You did a great job, Amy,” I whispered to my daughter, taking out a clean handkerchief I always carried and gently but firmly bandaging her injured wrist.

After treating my wounds, I slowly straightened up, my cold gaze sweeping over the boy who was still panting heavily. With just one look, Luke instinctively shrank back, as if being targeted by some apex predator.

"Hey! You plumber!" A haughty and rude shout came from my right.

Old Davis had already stood up from the VIP section and, accompanied by two bodyguards, pushed his way through the crowd. He pointed at me with a finger adorned with an enormous gold ring, his eyes filled with condescending disdain.

“Keep your daughter’s mouth shut, and keep your feet in check.” Old Davis walked up to me and warned, “This is a court sponsored by the Davis family. It’s an honor for you that my son is willing to play with her. If I hear her utter another word of nonsense, I guarantee your lousy hardware store will disappear from the streets of Oaktown tomorrow.”

I looked at old Davis's imperious face, and felt Amy's small, cold hand gently gripping the hem of my clothes from behind.

If I fight back now, Amy will lose her home in this town forever, and she will lose her basketball game .

For my daughter's sake, I slowly turned my head, concealing all my sharpness. I didn't utter a word in response, but simply took Amy's hand and, amidst the mocking and pitying gazes of the crowd, turned and walked out of the stadium into the cold wind.