What the hell is the "kill line" when you're in America?

"coward."

The knife wound on my arm is bleeding.

A dull ache throbbed from where the stick had struck his back.

But none of these can compare to the memories surging in his mind.

The images of the past, those things he tried to bury with alcohol and numbness, broke down his last line of defense.

In court, his wife and the lawyer wore smug smiles.

When he was evicted from the house he had risked his life for, his neighbors cast pitying yet gloating glances his way.

He went to interviews at company after company, wearing a wrinkled suit.

In return, they were met with repeated, perfunctory replies like "We'll contact you."

Finally, he huddled in a street corner.

He looked at the national flag he had once sworn to protect, trembling helplessly in the cold wind.

He did try to resist.

He stormed into his former home, intending to drag that damned real estate agent off the bed.

The results of it?

He was pinned to the ground by the police and put on cold handcuffs.

The charges are "illegal trespassing" and "threatening personal safety".

"No......"

He wanted to argue, but he saw the lips of the young man with the Asian face in front of him moving.

But everything he said was true.

"Mr. Jack, you are a hero, and we all respect your contributions to the country."

"But this is a civilized society; we have laws and rules."

"Your actions have violated the law."

Those police officers, judges, and community workers—they all said similar things.

Their faces bore a mixture of procedural sympathy and businesslike indifference.

They used the word "hero" to elevate him to a pedestal, and then took everything from him with a clear conscience.

Now, this young man, in the calmest tone, has spoken the cruelest truth.

"So, you accepted it?"

"A wandering, alcoholic, penniless hero."

"I numb myself every day by recalling past glories and being angry about the present."

"Finally, in some forgotten corner, it rots and stinks like a stray dog."

"Is this the ending you chose for yourself?"

"Shut up!"

Jack, swinging his fist, was furiously about to punch Li Ang.

Li Ang simply raised his hand and effortlessly pinched his wrist with two fingers.

Jack felt as if his fist had hit a steel plate.

"Anger is the last weapon of the weak."

Li Ang looked at him, his eyes completely unmoved.

"But unfortunately, your anger is worthless."

Li Ang looked at Jack and said slowly.

"Look at yourself now."

"What can I do?"

Jack was utterly desperate.

"I tried, I resisted!"

"And the result? I was locked up in a detention center and got a criminal record!"

"I went to look for a job, but no one wanted a veteran with violent tendencies!"

"So, you're giving up?"

Li Ang asked.

"They abandoned me first!"

Jack roared.

Li Ang shook his head.

"You blame all your failures on your wife, your neighbor, and the laws of this country."

"You feel like the whole world has wronged you."

"But have you ever considered that from the moment you chose to pick up a bottle instead of a gun, you had already lost?"

"You chose to numb yourself with alcohol instead of solving the problem with bullets."

Jack fell silent once again.

Yes.

Why didn't he kill them?

He clearly had a hundred ways to make them disappear from this world without a trace.

What he learned on the battlefield was enough for him to send that despicable couple, along with that damned lawyer, to hell.

Why didn't he do that?

Because of fear?

No, he's not even afraid of death, so why would he be afraid of killing?

It's because he still believes in something.

Believe in the law, believe in justice, and believe that this country will not fail a hero who shed blood for it.

But reality gave him the loudest slap in the face.

Everything he believed was just a joke.

"Now, I'm giving you a chance."

Li Ang's voice pulled him back from his chaotic thoughts.

"A chance to take back everything that is rightfully yours."

"A chance to stop being a coward."

Jack slowly raised his head.

He looked at Li Ang with a complicated expression.

"I'm someone who can help you."

Li Ang answered once again.

Li Ang paused, then added.

"I need someone who knows how to use a gun."

Jack understood.

The mysterious young man in front of him was extending an invitation.

Agreeing to his request would mean embarking on a path completely different from the past, one filled with bloodshed and violence.

Rejecting him means staying in this dirty corner and slowly rotting away.

He remembered that afternoon when he huddled in a street corner, watching the national flag tremble in the cold wind.

I remembered the looks from passersby, a mixture of pity and disdain.

I thought of my empty stomach and my equally empty heart.

He had lost everything.

What else is there that I cannot lose?

Why should I believe you?

Jack asked, exhausted.

Li Ang walked to the side and picked up the steel pipes that the thugs had dropped on the ground.

He picked one up casually.

Under Jack's horrified gaze, Li Ang forcefully broke the steel pipe in two.

"And now?"

Jack opened his mouth wide, unable to utter a single word.

He felt that his worldview had been completely overturned at that moment.

This can no longer be explained by fighting techniques.

Is this... divine power?

he does not know.

All he knew was that the man before him possessed a power he could neither comprehend nor resist.

He suddenly understood.

Li Ang was not inviting him at all.

It was to inform him.

He had no choice.

Jack slowly stood up from the ground.

He brushed the dust off his knees and straightened his back.

Despite his tattered clothes and wounds, the upright and imposing air of a soldier returned to him.

"I can do things for you."

He looked at Li Ang and said in a deep voice.

"I can kill for you, and I can handle any trouble for you."

Li Ang nodded.

That's more like it.

"but."

Jack changed the subject.

"I have one condition."

"explain."

"I will not harm innocent people."

Jack said, word by word.

"Women, children, or anyone who has not taken up arms against us."

"This is my bottom line. If you want me to do this, you can kill me right now."

Li Ang looked at him.

[The Cutoff Line: Middle (Rebuilding the Dao Heart, Sheathing the Blade)]

Li Ang did not answer immediately.

He just looked at Jack and asked.

Why?

"Because God is watching us."

Jack looked up and glanced at the night sky, which was tinged with a dark purple by the city lights.

"I've killed far too many people in my life."

"There are enemies, and there are civilians."

"My hands are covered in blood that I can't wash off."

"If I give up even my last line of defense, then I really am just a beast."

"God will not let me off the hook."

Li Ang remained silent for a moment.

"Can."

In the end, he agreed.

Although he did not think Jack's ideas were correct.

After all, if God really exists, why doesn't He come and take care of America as it is today?

"Welcome to the team, Jack."

Li Ang extended his hand to him.

In the end, he reached out his rough, scarred hand and shook it.

Two hands, clasped together.