Urban Invincible God of War

The June rain in Qingyang City clung to the air like a sticky blanket, smacking against the walls of the dilapidated apartment building and spreading dark, murky stains. Lin Chen stood at the entrance of the third-floor corridor, a crumpled slip of paper in his hand—the address his younger sister, Lin Wan, had scribbled down. Five years. He’d clawed his way out of hails of bullets, risen from mountains of corpses and seas of blood, yet returning to this city as a "dead man" felt more alien than facing a million enemy troops. With a creak, he pushed open the half-ajar wooden door. A pungent stench of herbal medicine hit him like a fist. In the dim living room, a white-haired woman squatted before a small coal stove, stirring a simmering pot. Her back curved like a bow, bent by a lifetime of hardship. At the sound of his footsteps, she turned, and when her cloudy eyes met his, tears flooded them instantly. "Chen... Chen’er? You... you’re alive?" It was his mother, Zhao Lan. Lin Chen’s throat tightened. He stepped forward to steady her. "Mom, it’s me. I’m back." Five years ago, he’d left as a new recruit for the border. After an "accident," the army had sent word of his "death." He’d watched helplessly as his family erected an empty tomb for him. Now, he could return only because the Dragon God Palace had finally eradicated the last remnants of the border’s enemies—and he, at last, could set aside the title of "Dragon King" to be simply the Lin family’s son. "Back... good. Back is good..." Zhao Lan sobbed, clutching his hands, scanning him up and down. "Thinner. Taller... If your father knew, he’d be overjoyed." At the mention of his father, her tears faltered. She wiped them away. "Your father... three months ago, they found late-stage lung cancer. Hospital bills drained every penny we had, and we still owe Boss Wang 50,000 yuan... The doctor says... six months, at most." Lin Chen’s heart plummeted. His father, Lin Jianguo, was an honest carpenter, stubbornly proud all his life. How could this happen? "Mom, I’ll handle the money. Which hospital is Dad in?" His voice was steady, but a chill flickered in his eyes. Fifty thousand yuan was pocket change to him now, but for this family, it was the straw breaking the camel’s back. "Qingyang First Hospital... The doctor said** was too costly. We brought him home yesterday for palliative care..." Zhao Lan nodded toward the inner room. "Your sister Wan went to buy him porridge. That girl—she works dishwashing at a restaurant after school, just to save a little." Her words barely faded when hurried footsteps echoed outside. A girl in a faded school uniform burst in, a plastic bag clutched in her hand, her hair and clothes soaked through by the rain. "Mom, I got hot porridge... Huh? Who’s this?" She looked up, freezing when she saw Lin Chen. Delicate features, but a weariness beyond her years—his younger sister, Lin Wan, a senior in high school. "Wanwan, this is your brother. Lin Chen!" Zhao Lan hurried to explain. Lin Wan’s eyes widened, drinking in the familiar yet strange man. She’d carried his photo everywhere, but this man was taller, his gaze deep as a hidden sea. Her lips trembled, then her eyes reddened, and she threw herself into his arms. "Brother! You’re really back! I thought... I thought I’d never see you again!" Lin Chen hugged her thin shoulders, his heart aching. He could defend a nation’s borders, yet let his own family suffer such wrongs. "Brother’s back. No one will hurt you again." His voice held a quiet, unshakable resolve. Bang! Bang! Bang! Rude shouts shattered the moment. "Zhao Lan! Pay up! If you don’t cough up 50,000 yuan, we’ll tear this dump down!" Zhao Lan paled, trembling. "It’s Boss Wang’s men... What do we do, Chen’er?" Lin Wan shrank behind Lin Chen, whispering, "They come every day. They smashed our window yesterday..." Lin Chen’s gaze turned icy. He patted his mother and sister’s hands. "Stay inside. I’ll handle it." He opened the door. Three tattooed thugs loomed outside. The bald one in the lead, a cigarette dangling from his lip, looked Lin Chen up and down and sneered. "Where’d this wild kid crawl from? Where’s Zhao Lan? Deadbeat—you think you can weasel out?" "I’ll pay." Lin Chen’s tone was flat. "But you said you’d tear down my house?" "Or what?" The bald man spat out his cigarette, shoving at Lin Chen. "Smarten up and get your mother—" Ah! His hand barely grazed Lin Chen’s arm before it was clamped like a vice, bone-crushing pain searing through him. Lin Chen flicked his wrist, and the bald man screamed, flying backward to slam into the opposite wall, sliding to the ground in a sputter of blood. The other two thugs froze, then drew steel pipes, roaring, "Dare to fight back?**!" Lin Chen sidestepped the first swing, his elbow driving into a man’s chest. The thug flew back like a broken kite. The second swung at his head; Lin Chen caught the pipe, twisting until it snapped with a c***k, then punched the man’s gut. He curled on the ground, speechless with pain. Ten seconds. All three lay groaning. The corridor fell silent. Neighbors peeked through door cracks, too terrified to breathe. Lin Chen stepped over to the bald man, staring down with eyes like ice. "Tell your boss the money goes to the hospital tomorrow—with interest. But if you harass my family again..." He paused, his voice steeped in the blood and death of battlefields. "Next time, I’ll break more than ribs." The bald man scrambled up, dragging his men away, too terrified to look back. Lin Chen closed the door, turning to find his mother and sister staring, shocked. He softened his tone. "Mom, Wanwan. It’s okay." Zhao Lan’s lips trembled. "Chen’er... when did you get so strong?" Lin Chen smiled, no explanation. Some stories didn’t need telling. He walked into the inner room, gazing at his father—emaciated, barely a skeleton. His throat tightened. "Dad. I’m back." Lin Jianguo’s eyes fluttered open, cloudy gaze fixing on Lin Chen. After a long moment, tears spilled, and he grasped his hand. "Chen’er... it’s really you... Good. Good..." Lin Chen take his father’s hand. "Dad, don’t worry. I’ll cure you." He pulled out his phone, dialing an encrypted number. When it connected, his voice sharpened to the Dragon King’s command. "It’s me. Assemble the nation’s top lung cancer specialists. Qingyang First Hospital. Within half an hour. Bill it to me." A respectful voice answered, "At once, Dragon King!" Hanging up, Lin Chen stared out at the rain, his resolve hardening. Qingyang’s peace would shatter today.