Opening Mouth, Stubborn King's Stance

Bang...

"Ah!"

'Combat failed, Experience Points +5.'

Bang...

"Yah!"

'Combat failed, Experience Points +5.'

'Experience Points sufficient, current Thief level Lv1.'

Bang...

"Oh!"

'Combat failed, Experience Points +5, Learned Skill: Weapon Mastery.'

'Weapon Mastery Lv0: Accuracy +1.'

Half a day of sparring ended.

Allen was unrecognizable.

Knocked down again and again, he got up again and again, his face so swollen that his eyes were mere slits.

At the same time, system prompts appeared one after another in his mind.

"Training ends for today. Go find Chelsea to treat your external injuries, and we'll continue tomorrow."

Nyssa let out a sigh of relief, feeling a sense of comfort wash over her body and mind.

She had underestimated Allen's endurance. He hadn't surrendered or begged for mercy. If it weren't for his mental state, he would truly be suitable for training into a qualified warrior.

"I won't admit defeat with just this level of hardship. I swear on my current self and my past self."

As he spoke, Allen raised both hands, indicating his right hand was his current self and his left hand was his past self.

In Allen's philosophy, everything about him could be soft, but his mouth could not.

"Very good. I look forward to your performance tomorrow."

Nyssa left with great satisfaction. She enjoyed those who were stubborn and then slowly planted seeds of fear in their hearts.

Turning left out of the room, he followed the signs to the infirmary.

Ra's al Ghul had lived for hundreds of years and had trained under many masters, collecting numerous healing prescriptions along the way. After all, martial arts training inevitably led to injuries.

The League of Assassins could not have grown so strong without effective healing medicine; otherwise, who would fight for them if they were all crippled?

"Yo, isn't this Allen? Can't even recognize him after just half a day."

It was truly a chance encounter.

Talia greeted him with a sarcastic tone.

Allen had mocked her figure on his first day, saying she wasn't as good as Nyssa, so they had a feud.

However, when it came to verbal sparring, Allen had never lost to anyone.

Immediately, he propped his head with one hand, his elbow against the wall, the other hand on his hip, and his legs crossed in a stubborn stance.

"Oh, it's my dear Talia. Are you pretending to run into me because you're worried about me?"

A self-proclaimed suave smile appeared on Allen's swollen face: "I know, I know. After all, you can't hide the look in your eyes when you love someone. You're afraid I'll fall for Nyssa."

Talia felt like she had swallowed a fly.

Why had she bothered to provoke a lunatic?

Pretending not to hear, she quickened her pace and brushed past him, resolving to stay away from crazy people in the future, lest she become abnormal along with them.

She had spent most of her life practicing martial arts and couldn't possibly match a king of stubbornness. The only solution that came to her mind was to kill him.

"Talia, running away won't solve anything."

"Love should be spoken aloud. Gather your courage and confess your love to me. I hope your love will no longer linger, and my life will be colorful with you..."

He couldn't stop his stubborn act.

Allen passionately began to sing a love song.

His singing sounded like a death knell. Talia covered her ears with both hands, changing from a brisk walk to a full-blown sprint, not wanting to stay another second.

"Little brat, you don't dare to face your inner feelings."

Allen narcissistically declared, "Running away will only make you more infatuated."

Yelp!

Turning around, he saw Nyssa looking at him with a strange expression.

She had worried Allen might not find the infirmary and had doubled back to lead him there, catching sight of the scene just unfolding.

To be honest, seeing Talia at a disadvantage made Nyssa happier than her father, Ra's al Ghul, praising her.

"I'll go easier on you tomorrow."

"Are you confessing your love?"

"..."

It was clear that Allen's stubbornness hadn't entered cooldown, and he'd instantly friendly-fired a teammate.

Nyssa had intended to use Allen to make Talia look bad, but he turned out to be an uncontrollable factor, unleashing indiscriminate attacks when he got serious.

Seeing Nyssa flee, Allen couldn't help but sweep his hair back. "I know you all have feelings for me. I can see you playing hard to get. I am indeed exceptionally talented. Sigh, being this charming is a real headache, but my heart belongs only to Little Right."

"Little Left, stop. You're just an ex, please maintain some distance."

A lot of fun to be had with mental patients. Allen was never alone; Little Left and Little Right were always by his side, occasionally staging dramatic love triangles.

Creak.

The infirmary door was half-open, and a face, so swollen it was unrecognizable, peeked in.

Chelsea, who was studying ancient texts, blinked in surprise. After three seconds of silence, he recognized the visitor and greeted him with a kind smile. "Allen, come in and sit down."

He was a non-combatant member of the League of Assassins, specializing as a pharmacist, developing various drugs for the organization. His position was second only to the Ninja Master, but he held little real power.

This was their second meeting.

The first time was when Nyssa brought Allen back.

He had been near death from the cold, and Chelsea had successfully restored him to health with his superb medical skills.

"Old Che, set me up with a plastic surgery. I don't need to be handsome, but I need to be amazing."

"I'm a Traditional Chinese Medicine Practitioner."

"If you can't do it, just say so. Don't make excuses."

Chelsea stood up and rummaged through a medicine cabinet, pulling out a jar of ointment. He knew Allen's character well; the more you said, the more he'd push.

"This is medicine for external injuries. It promotes blood circulation, reduces swelling, and accelerates healing and growth. Don't use too much. Keep the rest for yourself, and ask me for more when you run out."

He didn't particularly dislike Allen, but he couldn't stand being bothered by him every other day. So, he gave him a bit more healing ointment to minimize their encounters.

"Growth?!"

Allen's focus was often unusual. He latched onto those two words from the description of the ointment, his smile widening. He lowered his head and looked at his lower half.

Cough...

Chelsea gravely warned him, "Put away your unrealistic ideas, or you'll lose it."

"You say that, but I've always been quite satisfied with my size."

Allen chuckled sheepishly, concealing his true thoughts.

Of course, Chelsea was deeply skeptical. Never trust a mentally ill person; they don't even know what they're doing themselves.

Carrying the jar of ointment back to his room, he applied the pungent cream in front of the mirror.

The cooling sensation numbed the pain, and the effect was very noticeable.

It was a secret formula of the League of Assassins, a low-tier version of which was sold externally as a company product.

A vast organization like this, supporting so many members, had astronomical annual expenses. They couldn't possibly sustain themselves just by doing assassinations and taking bounties.

The investment in training just one warrior alone exceeded fifty thousand US dollars a year.

The Snow Mountain Base had over a hundred people. The combined membership of hidden bases like Purgatory Island, mission operational funds, building and repair costs, equipment depreciation, medication procurement, and miscellaneous expenses amounted to at least hundreds of millions.

[Character]: Allen (1/10)
[Profession]: Lv5 Thief
[Skills]: Lv1 Weapon Mastery
[Time]: 1981, League of Assassins.
[Requirement]: Current profession max Lv120, can return to original timeline.

Lying on the bed, Allen stared blankly at the status panel. He suddenly realized, "So I've transmigrated into the League of Assassins. Based on the timeline, I might encounter..."