MY HIDDEN TALENT IS FORBIDDEN BY THE HEAVENS-Chapter 60: RETURN OF THE SHADOW KING
Chapter 60 — "THE SHADOW KING RETURNS"
Victory should have felt loud.
It should have been cheers, celebration, adrenaline still buzzing in the veins.
Instead—
Long Hao felt uneasy.
The Frostcloud match had ended decisively. Azure Dragon Academy advanced cleanly. The crowd roared, the announcers shouted, his teammates basked in the win.
And yet—
Something scratched at the back of his mind.
Not danger.
Expectation.
Three hours.
That was the time given before Azure Dragon’s next scheduled fight.
Most teams used it to rest.
Heal.
Strategize.
Celebrate.
Long Hao did none of those things.
He stood alone at the edge of Dragon Turtle Academy’s outer training grounds—an abandoned stone plaza meant for duels that had long since fallen out of use.
Broken pillars.
Cracked tiles.
Dim lanterns that barely held light.
A perfect place.
He loosened his cloak slightly and let his aura leak.
Not power.
Presence.
A controlled, deliberate exposure.
Like a predator stepping into the open and saying—
Come.
Inside his consciousness, something stirred.
"...Tch."
Longyu’s voice echoed faintly, sharp and annoyed.
"You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?"
Long Hao’s lips curved into a faint smile.
"Of course."
"...Idiot."
She paused.
"...But I suppose you finally look like my contractor again."
The Shadow King did not hide.
He hunted.
It didn’t take long.
Two minutes.
Three.
The air shifted.
Not footsteps.
Not sound.
Intent.
Long Hao stopped walking.
He didn’t turn.
Didn’t tense.
Didn’t even breathe differently.
[WARNING: Hostile killing intent detected]
[Distance: 18 meters]
[Trajectory: High-left, blind spot]
Long Hao stepped forward.
The blade passed where his neck had been.
Metal kissed air.
He pivoted calmly.
A figure landed behind him—clad in black, face masked, movements precise and trained.
No wasted motion.
No hesitation.
An assassin.
Long Hao sighed.
"...You’re late."
The assassin didn’t speak.
He attacked.
Thinking Long Hao is defenceless at that moment.
The assassin was good.
Very good.
Every strike aimed to kill. No testing. No probing.
Twin daggers—one poisoned, one serrated—came at Long Hao in a storm of calculated death.
But Long Hao wasn’t defending.
He was reading.
Weight distribution.
Breathing rhythm.
Micro-delays between strikes.
[Predictive Pattern Established][Combat Probability: 92.4% favorable]
Long Hao stepped into the attack.
The dagger missed his heart by a hair.
The assassin recoiled—just a fraction too slow.
Long Hao’s shadow moved.
Not his body.
His shadow.
It twisted, stretched, and wrapped around the assassin’s ankle like a living thing.
The assassin leapt back, severing the connection with a blade of light—
Only to realize too late that the shadow had never been the trap.
Long Hao was.
He appeared behind him.
Fist slammed into the assassin’s spine.
CRACK.
The assassin spat blood and rolled, recovering instantly—springing to his feet with terrifying resilience.
A professional.
"Who sent you?" Long Hao asked calmly.
The assassin answered by throwing a needle straight for his eye.
Long Hao caught it.
Between two fingers.
He flicked it aside.
"...Wrong answer."
The plaza darkened.
Not because the light faded—
But because Long Hao took it.
Shadows thickened, stretched, layered.
The assassin’s breathing changed.
For the first time—
Fear.
Long Hao’s voice dropped.
"You were trained to kill."
He stepped forward.
"But I lived to end hunters like you."
The assassin activated a movement art—body blurring, splitting into three afterimages that attacked from different angles.
Long Hao closed his eyes.
[Shadow Domain: Partial Manifestation.]
He moved.
One step.
Then another.
The first afterimage collapsed—illusion severed.
The second was pierced through the chest by a blade of shadow.
The third—the real one—found Long Hao’s hand around his throat.
Lifted.
Effortlessly.
The assassin struggled.
Choked.
Long Hao leaned closer.
"Now," he said softly, "talk."
The assassin’s eyes flickered.
Then—
He smiled.
Blood poured from his mouth.
A seal burned at his tongue.
Suicide mark.
The assassin’s body went limp.
Dead.
Long Hao released him.
The corpse hit the ground with a dull sound.
Silence returned.
Long Hao crouched.
Checked the assassin’s gear.
Efficient. Minimal. High-grade.
Then—
He froze.
A small emblem, hidden inside the assassin’s inner sleeve.
A stylized frost-mark sigil.
Long Hao recognized it instantly.
"...Murong."
His expression darkened.
For a brief moment—
Doubt surfaced.
Murong Yuer’s face flashed through his mind.
Her apology.
Her sincerity.
Her eyes.
Long Hao closed his eyes.
Exhaled slowly.
"...No."
He straightened.
"Not her."
"...Hmph." Longyu snorted."At least you’re not stupid."
Long Hao clenched his fist.
"If this was her family..." he murmured, "...then she’s being used just like everyone else."
"...Good.""You’re thinking."
He turned away from the body.
The Shadow King vanished back into the light.
MEANWHILE
THE ARENA —
The central arena roared.
Another match had just ended.
The crowd was on fire.
"WHAT A FINISH!" the announcer shouted."THAT WAS THE THIRD VICTORY OF THE DAY"
In Azure Dragon’s waiting area—
Qin Shuo frowned.
"...Where’s Long Hao?"
Ouyang Xue’er glanced around.
"He should be here."
Bai Qianlan’s eyes narrowed slightly.
Ling Yifan said nothing.
But his gaze was sharp.
"...Chen," he said quietly.
Chen blinked. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢
"Yeah?"
"...Where were you just now?"
Chen paused.
"...Bathroom?"
Ling Yifan stared at him.
Too long.
Too quietly.
Something was off.
But he did not say ask anything else.
Long Hao reappeared at the edge of the arena just as the crowd erupted again.
No one noticed him at first.
Then—
Someone did.
Whispers spread.
"That’s him."
"The Gold-tier guy..."
"No—look at his eyes."
Long Hao stepped into the light.
Calm.
Collected.
Untouched.
But something about him felt different.
Sharper.
He met Ling Yifan’s gaze across the crowd.
Ling Yifan’s eyes narrowed.
You moved.
Long Hao gave a barely perceptible nod.
I handled something.
The bell rang.
The announcer’s voice boomed.
"NEXT MATCH—!"
The Shadow King had returned.
And this time—
He wasn’t waiting for fate.
He was hunting it.
[Chapter ENDS]
SIDE POV — QIN SHUO’S VERY BAD DAY
Qin Shuo adjusted his collar.
Then adjusted it again.
Then cleared his throat.
Then immediately forgot everything he had planned to say.
Three girls stood in front of him—students from another academy, chatting lightly, clearly in a good mood. This was his moment. He felt it.
Alright, Qin Shuo told himself. Smile. Confident. Casual. Like Han Duwei does.
He stepped forward.
"H–Hello," he said.
One of the girls blinked. "Hi?"
Qin Shuo nodded far too quickly. "Yes. Hi. That’s—what I said."
...Why did he repeat that?
He coughed. "I’m Qin Shuo. Azure Dragon Academy. Top—uh—Top Ten. Strategist type."
Another girl smiled politely. "Oh! Nice to meet you."
Good. Good start, he thought, confidence rising.
He leaned in slightly. "So, um... do you come to these championships often?"
The three girls stared at him.
One of them tilted her head. "...This is a once-a-year inter-academy event."
"Oh." Qin Shuo froze. "Right. Yes. I knew that. I was—testing."
Testing what? Testing WHAT?
He panicked.
"So! The weather! Pretty—uh—frosty today, right? But not like... Frost Academy frosty. Haha."
Silence.
A breeze passed.
One girl glanced at the other two, clearly searching for an escape route.
Qin Shuo felt sweat trickle down his back.
Say something impressive. Quick.
"I once calculated a battlefield probability with only twelve variables," he blurted out. "It was very... efficient."
"...Wow," one girl said, tone painfully neutral.
Then—
A familiar voice slid smoothly into the conversation.
"Only twelve?"
Qin Shuo stiffened.
Han Duwei had arrived.
Hands in pockets. Relaxed posture. Easy smile. Not even trying.
"I usually need at least twenty," Han Duwei said lazily. "Anything less feels... sloppy."
The girls’ eyes shifted.
Instantly.
"Oh?" one of them said, suddenly interested. "You’re from Azure Dragon too?"
Han Duwei nodded. "Han Duwei."
Just his name.
No explanation.
No boasting.
One of the girls’ eyes lit up. "Wait—you’re that Han Duwei? The scout from Blackfang Desolation?"
Han Duwei chuckled. "Guess I didn’t hide well enough."
Qin Shuo’s soul left his body.
The girls laughed.
Actually laughed.
Han Duwei smoothly repositioned himself—subtly, naturally—placing himself at the center of their attention without pushing Qin Shuo out.
Except Qin Shuo was already being pushed out.
"So," Han Duwei continued lightly, "what academies are you from?"
They answered eagerly.
Qin Shuo opened his mouth to contribute—
"And you?" Han Duwei asked one girl gently. "What brought you here?"
She blushed.
Qin Shuo slowly stepped back.
No one noticed.
Not a single soul.
He watched, horrified, as Han Duwei somehow ended up walking away with all three girls, chatting casually, one on each side, the third laughing behind them.
Han Duwei glanced back once.
Gave Qin Shuo a sympathetic look.
And a tiny shrug.
Sorry, brother.
Qin Shuo collapsed onto a nearby bench.
"...I hate talented people," he muttered.
From somewhere behind him, Jin Roulan’s amused voice floated over.
"Don’t worry, Qin Shuo."
Ouyang Xue’er added dryly, "At least you scared them away honestly."
Qin Shuo buried his face in his hands.
"This academy is full of monsters," he whispered.
And somewhere in the distance—
Han Duwei laughed effortlessly, already making plans for dinner.
[SIDE POV ENDS]
