Under the ancient stone walls, the dilapidated broom scraped day after day against the bluestone slabs, emitting a monotonous, humiliating rasp. I, Qin Mo, a humble janitor, had long been accustomed to the arrogant thugs treating me like their personal punching bag. Their taunts were like needles, their shoves like dull knives, each time crushing my meager self-esteem to powder. Until today, when a heavy punch, imbued with malice and power, struck my cheek, sending me crashing down. I thought this was just another humiliating end, but unexpectedly, it was a breathtaking beginning. The moment I fell, it wasn't darkness, but a blinding white lightning bolt that tore through my mind. Immediately after, a tidal wave of images surged in: a karate dojo, sweat-drenched training, precise blocks, lethal strikes... Those weren't my memories, yet they felt more vivid and real than my twenty-odd years of life. A cold and immense power awakened within me, every cell rearranging in a tremor. I felt the stinging pain on my face disappear, replaced by an ultimate clarity, and an – unspeakable killing intent. I slowly propped myself up, dusting off the dirt from my clothes. The thugs who had been swaying before my eyes now appeared as slow-motion targets. Every one of their flaws, every breath, even the slightest muscle tremor, nothing could escape my perception. My former fear was completely replaced, like ice and snow melting, leaving only a silent lakebed, reflecting a sharp, unfamiliar face. “Qin Mo?” The lead thug, seeing my eerie calm, mockingly kicked me again. “Still frozen? Haven't had enough yet?” Before his words had even finished speaking, my body moved before my consciousness. My right fist, like a bolt of lightning tearing through the air, precisely struck the back of his kicking knee. He let out a cry of agony, his knee instantly dislocated, and he awkwardly fell to his knees. The next second, a hand chop followed like a shadow, striking his nape, clean and decisive. The surrounding clamor instantly froze, his accomplices staring in horror at the twitching figure on the ground. I was no longer that submissive janitor. But this was merely the tip of the iceberg. As my "hidden talent" manifested, as those once-haughty thugs, one by one, fell like puppets before my precise and lethal moves, I truly understood that a karate black belt was just the most superficial disguise for this power. Within this body, a deeper, more complex past still slumbered. My true identity was far more intricate than I'd imagined, and a buried memory was attempting to break through. Who was I? Why did I possess such "hidden talent"? Was this power a gift or a curse? I looked up at the night sky, an inexplicable chill rising in my heart. The truth, far more shocking than revenge, and this story, had only just begun.