Transmigrated as the fake young master, I'll beat up the scumbags and b*tches
Vol. 1 - Ch. 350 - Confrontation

HuMing froze mid-step. His rational mind screamed at him not to go any further.

Someone had just entered through the door behind him—if they intended to trap him down here, he might not be able to get out.

But as HuMing stared at the ominous dungeon ahead, he couldn’t shake the feeling that even darker secrets were hidden below.

And if he left now to question the villagers, he doubted he’d get any real answers.

Pressing his back to the wall, he held his breath and listened carefully to the approaching footsteps.

They were close—so close he could hear the other person breathing. But then he realized something was off. There wasn’t just one set of footsteps... there was a second, much softer one trailing behind.

His brain worked lightning-fast. In the next instant, he stepped out, directly facing the source of the closer sound.

The person on the other side startled at the sudden appearance—and as she opened her mouth, about to scream, HuMing’s reflexes kicked in. He covered her mouth with his hand and pulled her toward him.

"Shh..." he whispered as he held the girl close, signaling her to keep quiet.

Gradually, the girl calmed down at the sound of his voice. Of all people here, HuMing was the one she trusted most. His presence here had to mean something.

Her breathing steadied, and she leaned silently against him, waiting.

Outside, a sudden sharp inhale echoed—someone had clearly discovered that the dungeon entrance had been opened.

Their footsteps picked up speed—panicked. In the rush, they grabbed a rusted iron rod from the side and stormed toward the room.

HuMing’s grip on the girl tightened, shielding her instinctively from the danger ahead.

A shadow spilled across the entrance. The moment the figure stepped in, HuMing lashed out with a punch straight to the intruder’s jaw.

Caught off guard, the man staggered. But even as he fell, he swung the iron rod at the girl with a crazed reflex.

HuMing’s eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, he raised his arm to block the blow.

Pain exploded through his forearm, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he followed up with a hard kick, sending the weapon flying out of the attacker’s hands.

Another spinning kick knocked the man off his feet entirely—he tumbled down the stairs into the heart of the dungeon.

"HuMing, are you okay?!" the girl cried out, grabbing his hand.

His arm was bruised, mottled with angry purples. The sight made her heart twist.

"I’m fine, YunXi. Stay with me now. Don’t leave my side, no matter what."

HuMing no longer felt safe leaving Han YunXi anywhere alone. This entire village reeked of rot. They needed to get out and bring help.

More importantly, HuMing was certain now—this place was hiding something much worse than he had imagined.

Han YunXi clung close, knowing she couldn’t add to his burden. She followed without a word.

HuMing walked straight to the man he had just fought. The guy was clutching his leg and dragging himself backward, eyes wide with disbelief.

He hadn’t expected HuMing to be this capable—this brutal. That kick alone had nearly snapped his leg.

"You seem pretty scared of people discovering what’s down here," HuMing said coldly, narrowing his eyes at him.

The man on the ground—it was the very same villager who had led them into the mountain just days before.

He shook his head desperately. "You’re not supposed to be here! This place isn’t for people like you!"

"That’s not your decision to make," HuMing replied sharply. "Now tell me—where is that child?"

The man froze. At the mention of "the child," his expression changed—hesitation, guilt, fear.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You don’t?" HuMing’s voice dropped an octave.

And then he stomped down hard on the man’s injured leg.

Han YunXi gasped and covered her mouth. She had never seen HuMing act like this—so violent, so unrelenting.

But she forced herself to stay calm.

[He’s doing this to protect us. I can’t be afraid.]

She bit her lip and looked at the man, wanting the truth just as badly.

The man screamed in pain, forehead drenched in cold sweat.

He hadn’t expected HuMing to go this far.

He’d assumed this school trip was just full of harmless students. Who could’ve guessed one of them would turn out to be so dangerous?

"What do you want from me?! I told you—I don’t know anything!"

"I heard a motorcycle entering the village earlier. Someone came to pick that child up, didn’t they?" HuMing crouched beside him, lifting the fallen iron rod.

The man gulped audibly.

Judging by everything HuMing had done so far, he clearly wasn’t bluffing. This guy wasn’t like the students—he was more like the people the man usually did business with.

"Okay, okay! I’ll talk! Just don’t kill me..."

He wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing nervously toward the skeletons locked inside the dungeon cells.

"You want to know who those bones belong to? They were children—kids from other places. People brought them here... stored them... and then they were taken somewhere else."

"You’re saying you’ve been trading children with traffickers?" Han YunXi’s voice rose, filled with disbelief and fury.

She had believed the villagers were humble, decent people struggling in poverty. She had come here to help.

But the truth was so much darker. These people were helping criminals, hiding them, enabling them like middlemen in some monstrous supply chain.

"Do you even understand what you’re doing?! Don’t you have children of your own?! How could you let something like this happen?!"

Knowing those bones had belonged to children broke something inside Han YunXi. She could barely hold back tears.

But the man only sneered.

"You city folk don’t understand a damn thing. Do you know what it means to be desperate? If we don’t do this, our kids will never leave this place! No one cares if we live or die—we’re just your charity projects for good press!"

His eyes burned with a hatred that made Han YunXi instinctively shrink back.

HuMing, on the other hand, just stared down at him, voice like ice.

"That’s not an excuse for what you’ve done."

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