Timeless Assassin

Leo abandoned Mu Fan's guidance mid-way through their escape, feeling convinced that he did not need her.

He believed he knew better.

Believed he was still untouchable.

In his mind, he was still 'The Boss'— the strongest player in the system, the king among men.

But that illusion he had about his power was about to shatter big time, as in the real world, a 'Master' ranked warrior was barely a blip on the power scale.

Nothing more than a bottom-feeder and a plebeian.

However, blinded by arrogance and narcissistic self confidence, Leo marched back toward the Arc Ship, determined to safeguard his family's interests… only to be intercepted and arrested before he could even make it halfway.

The local authorities didn't just apprehend him. They made an example out of him, by beating, mocking, and torturing him like a criminal whose pride far exceeded his value.

It was during this phase of his life that Leo truly remembered what it meant to be humble. What it meant to live like the forgotten, to survive on the fringes where dignity was a luxury and violence was a daily routine.

As thrown into one of Terra Nova's most brutal prisons, Leo faced unimaginable struggles from the moment he stepped inside.

Stabbings, murders, and hand-to-hand death matches were not isolated events but daily entertainment for the inmates.

As he was cast among the filth of the planet, the absolute worst humanity had to offer, and if he wanted to survive, he had no choice but to adapt quickly.

So he became resourceful.

He learned to stay alert, to sleep lightly, and to watch every corner as if his life depended on it, because most days, it did.

But even caution could only take him so far, as despite his best efforts, he was still roughed up almost every other day as his attitude as "The Boss" only made things worse.

It did not intimidate the other prisoners, not when he was barely a master level warrior, but rather provoked them and made them want to break his spirit that much more.

Eventually, desperation began to seep in.

Leo knew that he needed to find a way out, any way out, and fast.

And finally, he found a sliver of hope when an inmate mentioned the Warden's genetic trials.

The rumor went, that the Prison Warden was the disciple of a twisted genetic scientist who had vanished from public records.

However, as his chief disciple, the Warden continued his legacy through underground experiments on selected inmates of his own, promising freedom to any who survived his testing.

Most didn't.

But Leo volunteered anyway.

Because even the smallest chance to escape this hell and reunite with his family was better than the certainty of death he was facing in this prison.

And so, he was taken away by the Warden and tested for his genetic make-up first, with the discovery being nothing short of shocking for even the Warden himself.

Leo not only carried the blood of a God, but also carried the blood of an ancient dragon, in what was the most unique Genetic Make-up he had ever seen.

Turning obsessed, the Warden treated Leo as his most precious subject and even contacted his master the Mad Scientist to collaborate on testing, which his master agreed happily to, because his master, just like him, could not resist the temptation of testing on such a unique specimen.

And so began the sub-optimal genetic trials on his body, as it was these two mad idiots, who first had the crazy idea of introducing a mana heart into his body.

—--------------

(Flashback, An Underground Testing Facility, somewhere on Planet Terra Nova)

Leo found himself strapped naked to a cold, metal operating table, his limbs bound with thick restraints that pulsed faintly with suppressive mana.

The air around him stank of iron, antiseptic, and burnt flesh, while the ceiling above was lined with harsh, white lights that flickered occasionally, revealing glimpses of overhead observation lenses and rune-carved ducts dripping with condensation.

The laboratory itself was a horror show masquerading as science.

Tall glass tanks filled with semi-formed creatures lined the walls, some twitching feebly in their nutrient fluids, others still as death.

Dissected organs floated in containment pods, while machines whirred and hissed at uneven intervals, many cobbled together from different technologies, biotech, mana tech, alien alloys, all held in place with rusted bolts and makeshift bindings.

Two voices echoed from behind a thick pane of observation glass, bickering non-stop about how to progress with the experiment.

"The blood of the god running through him is very thin," one of them said. "It's been through at least fifteen generations of thinning. If not for the trace of dragon blood mixed into his body, it wouldn't have triggered any reaction at all."

"You're wrong," the second voice countered, sharper and more excitable. "It's the other way around. It's the god blood that activated the dormant dragon lineage. The dragon blood is even thinner than the divine strain. It only reacted after he learned how to absorb and circulate mana. The two are synergistic— each amplifies the other."

"What a waste," the first muttered. "The boy grew up on a mana-less planet. I wonder how many generations of his family lived and died without ever knowing what flowed through their veins."

"Exactly why we must enrich it. Before any other experiments, we'll need to clone his stem cells, concentrate the traits we want, and then re-infuse his body with higher quality blood. That will make him more receptive to the Genetic Awakening Serum later."

"Fool. We should be implanting a forced mana nucleus now. Stabilizing his core first, so that it will yield faster results—"

"Nonono. That comes after. First we strengthen the source. You don't build a tower on rotting flesh!"

Their bickering intensified, voices overlapping and echoing with frustration as Leo, through the haze of pain and sedatives, could only make out pieces, but they were enough.

He had the blood of a god in his veins.

And dragon blood too.

At the time, he didn't know what that meant. He didn't think of his parents as divine or draconic, nor did he believe his lineage was anything more than human. But apparently, buried somewhere in his ancestral code, was a rare and volatile combination.

Eventually, the debate ended, and action began.

Wires were attached to his neck, arms, and chest. The hum of blood-cycling machines filled the room, followed by the sting of multiple insertion needles.

His body began to shudder as his natural blood was extracted and replaced, slowly, systematically, with a synthetic version engineered from his own cells.

This new blood retained only the attributes the scientists considered valuable, while it was purged of everything else.

The process was brutal.

His body rejected the new blood almost immediately after insertion.

His muscles clenched, vision blurred, and every cell screamed out in resistance as it recognized the infusion as foreign.

But Leo endured.

Through sheer willpower, and the fact that his DNA still held enough compatibility to the new blood, however slight it may be, his body began to adapt.

It was neither easy nor graceful.

But with the stubborn determination of someone who wanted to live and return to his family anyhow, Leo somehow survived the transfusion.