SSS RANK REGRESSOR
CHAPTER 1: REVENGE
The sky hung heavy, an endless quilt of bruised grey clouds smothering the stars. The moon was nothing more than a faint smudge behind the shifting mass, its light swallowed before it could reach the earth. The air felt dense, almost damp, carrying a scent of wet soil and faraway rain.
A restless wind swept through the trees, bending their branches into uneasy shapes. Leaves whispered against each other like gossip in the dark, the sound sharp and fleeting. Somewhere in the distance, a lone dog barked, its voice muffled by the thick night air.
The mansion's silhouette loomed against the sky — black on black — with only a few scattered windows glowing dimly like tired eyes. Shadows moved sluggishly across the grounds, stretching and shrinking with the erratic sweep of security lights.
It wasn't silent. The wind sighed against the walls, the occasional creak of wood hinted at the building's age, and every so often the clouds parted just enough for a thin blade of moonlight to slice through, painting silver across the wet stones before retreating again.
It was the kind of night that made you feel watched — not by people, but by the dark itself.
A breeze swept over the rooftop where I stood, tugging at my coat, carrying with it the faint rustle of leaves from the far edge of the property
checking
"So today I complete 1,000 times… huh," I muttered to myself My eyes drifted down to the road below where a lone figure waited by the gate — hunched, desperate, scanning the compound like a moth circling a lamp. Funny how people always look smaller from above.
"Area A — Electricity house clear. Over."
"Area B — Entrance clear. Over."
"Area C — Airfield clear. Over."
keep watch, don't let anything in, don't let anything out. "Continue to guard us — not even a fly can enter the mansion without my permission,"
Static crackled before voices came back, sharp and precise:
"Area A received."
"Area B received."
"Area C received."
I heard this talk over my walkie talkie.
A single droplet landed on the back of my hand, cold and deliberate. I looked up — the clouds were folding in on themselves, the air shifting in that subtle, electric way that told you the storm was seconds from breaking.
That's when the headlights appeared.
Headlights flared at the mansion's entrance as five cars rolled in through the gates. The first two and the last two were matte-black, identical in build — the unmistakable choice for bodyguards. Between them, gliding like a king in a procession, was a silver Rolls-Royce, its chrome catching what little light the night offered.
By the time the convoy reached the front steps, the drizzle had begun. First, scattered pinpricks against the stone, then a steady fall, each drop heavier than the last. Within moments, the sky was pouring its weight onto the grounds, the sound of the rain swelling until it drowned out everything else.
The bodyguards moved with precision, exiting their vehicles and forming a line before the Rolls-Royce. One man stepped forward, hand on the door of rolls royals
He opened the door of car to let out the person in car.
A sudden flash of lightning ripped through the sky, illuminating the driveway in stark white for a single heartbeat — and in that instant, showing everyone in a one big image.
The guy who opened the door wore a perfectly tailored grey triple-piece suit his name Rahul. He was younger son of Gautam groups owner Standing beside him was another figure, dressed in an immaculate black triple-piece suit, holding an umbrella his name Aditya he was the older one who will inheritate the Gautam group in future. Future of Gautam group.
With a deep, rolling crack of thunder. From the back seat of the Rolls-Royce emerged a man in a flawless white triple-piece suit a guy come out of rolls royale. He was bit old; wrinkles were all around his face. older son Rahul moved instantly, raising the umbrella to shield the man's right side. Younger son Aditya took position on the left, their father — the chairman and head of the Gautam family — walking between them like a monarch escorted by his guard. The bodyguards fell into formation around the trio, their dark suits blending into the storm.
Without breaking pace, they advanced toward the mansion, rain glistening on polished leather shoes. I left my rooftop post and stepped down into the shadows, moving to intercept them.
****
The Gautam group was one trillion-dollar company making Mr. Gautam Aadani words richest man. But glorious days won't last long, things get started to change. Seven days ago, he received an assassination threat from underground king Mr. Innocent on a live broadcast of news channel.
ON AUGUST 6, TIME 00:00 I AM COMING TO KILL YOU GAUTAM, JUST WAIT FOR ME.
****
As I stepped inside, the warm glow of the chandelier pushed back the storm's darkness, but not its tension.
My eyes immediately found them — the father and his two sons — seated on a long leather sofa like a portrait of wealth and power. Security personnel stood at calculated distances around the room, their watchful gazes scanning every corner, every shadow.
In the center sat Gautam Aadani, the patriarch. His face was aged but unyielding — sharp lines etched near his eyes and across his cheeks, the marks of decades spent making decisions that shaped empires. A neatly trimmed beard framed his jaw, and his hair, dyed a deep black, lent him an air younger than his years. He sat with his left leg crossed over his right, posture steady, radiating authority.
To his right was Aditya Aadani, the elder son. His clean-shaven face and perfectly styled hair gave him a composed, almost diplomatic presence. There was a maturity in his eyes, the calm confidence of a man already being measured as the next head of the family.
On the left sat Rahul Aadani, the younger son. His posture was relaxed to the point of arrogance — leaning back with an expression that made no effort to hide his self-assurance. It wasn't just the way he sat; it was in the tilt of his chin and the faint curl at the edge of his mouth, the unspoken belief that the world should move for him.
The three of them spoke in low tones, the kind of conversation that didn't need to be overheard to know it carried weight.
"Chairman, things are not good…"
A man in a tailored black suit stepped forward, his voice low but urgent. He stopped beside Gautam Aadani and leaned in slightly. This was his secretary — loyal, efficient, and always the first to bring bad news.
"Say more. Less commotion," Gautam replied, his tone calm but edged with authority.
"The market value of the Gautam Group has evaporated by ten billion," the secretary said.
Aditya, the elder son, glanced at his wristwatch before speaking. "The reason is that broadcast on the news channels. The market will drop even further tonight — at midnight."
"Dad, Mr. Innocent or whatever he calls himself wouldn't dare to step foot in our territory. As long as you stay safe tonight, those rumors will destroy themselves by morning. Then, the market value will rise minute by minute." Rahul leaned back, snapping his fingers with a smirk
"I'm not worried about some temporary market recovery," Gautam said, his eyes narrowing. "I'm worried about that lunatic… Mr. Innocent. I want him found before he finds me."
Gautam, are you talking about ME? I said in slow, deliberate voice from the staircase
All of them turned their head toward the stairs, where I was descending, each step echoing in the silence.
"I didn't say anything about you, Mr. Lawrence," Rahul replied evenly. "I'm talking about the underground king — Mr. Innocent. You're here to protect us, so he should think twice before coming here. And even if he does…" Rahul's lips curled into a grin. "I'll beat him so badly his own mother won't recognize him."
I stopped midway down the stairs, my eyes locking on him. "Rahul Gautam Aadani… I'm standing right in front of you. I don't know how you plan to fight me, but I'm curious to see you try."
Rahul's grin faltered. "What do you mean?" His voice was low, his gaze flicking between me and his father.
"You idiot," Gautam said, pointing straight at me. "You spent billions to hire someone to protect me — but that someone is none other than Mr. Innocent himself."
Rahul turned to his father, disbelief written all over his face. "How is that possible…?"
I reached the ground floor, walking toward the grand piano in the center of the room. "The assassination order was issued. How could I not be here?" I pressed a single key. The deep, resonant note filled the hall, heavy as a death sentence.
In an instant, my men emerged from the shadows, forming a solid wall between the Aadani family's security and me. The bodyguards stiffened, hands inching toward their weapons. Both sons rose from their seats, but Gautam remained seated, his eyes locked on mine.
"You really think you can kill me?" Gautam asked, his voice cold, without a trace of fear.
I smiled. "Since I'm here, I'll make sure you don't see tomorrow's sunrise. Of course…" My gaze sharpened. "…if you have any trump cards left, although it shines out but from what I know about you, you always give me little surprise I said with a smile on my face.
As my words faded, the sound of heels clicked against the marble floor.
A young woman, no older than twenty-seven, stepped into the hall. She wore a black maxi dress that clung elegantly to her curves, the neckline hinting at her well-shaped figure. Her skin was pale and luminous under the chandelier's light, her features delicate yet striking — the kind of beauty that could have made her a celebrity without effort. Neha. The name suited her perfectly.
"Neel… for the sake of our pre-college alumni connection, leave my family alone. Can you… spare my father's life?" she asked, her voice trembling, her eyes filled with unease.
I tilted my head slightly, a faint spark of interest in my tone. "Hmph… and how exactly did you figure out who I was?"
"I happened to see your photo at my second brother's place, she said softly. "I felt familiar with your face, after remembering your identity and with my father's help I just found out that you are taking revenge on my family for what happened back then but please believe me, your father's accident was really just an accident…. and what happened with you these fast years was your own choice and your fathers dept on himself. She spoke her words were honeyed, her tone gentle, almost pleading.
.
Before I could reply, Gautam leaned back in his seat, his voice cutting through the room. "Stop talking. Don't give me that 'accident' nonsense. So, what if it wasn't? And so, what if everything that happened to you was my doing? If you dare to cross me, you're signing your own death warrant."
"Oh? So confident," I said, lowering myself into the pianist's chair beside me.
Gautam clapped twice.
Immediately, movement stirred on the second-floor balcony. Guards appeared, raising their guns and aiming directly at me. At the same time, the heavy doors of the entrance swung open and more guards poured in, holding machete and shape blades in their hands.
"I want to see how you plan to kill me now," Gautam said, his hand resting casually along the top of the sofa.
I smiled faintly. "Since you're so eager to die, I won't bother killing you myself. For me, ending your life is far too easy… and I've already done it countless times."
Rahul scoffed. "Are you starting to hallucinate from seeing death so close?"
"Hallucinating?" My smile widened as I raised a hand, pointing toward the laptop on the desk behind them — the one Gautam's secretary was operating. "Take a look at the market value of the Gautam Group."
The secretary's face drained of color. "Chairman… market capitalization continues to plummet. We've just lost thirty billion. If this keeps up until dawn…" He swallowed hard. "…I'm afraid the group will be bankrupt."
"That's not possible!" Gautam's voice thundered as he rose abruptly from the sofa, his usually measured composure cracking into raw disbelief.
"That's not possible… that's not possible…" he muttered again, the words spilling out in a frantic loop as if saying them enough times could bend reality back into his favor.
His right hand clutched at his chest. The weight of days — no, years — of pressure, greed, and unrelenting stress slammed into him all at once.
"Ahhh!" The sharp cry tore from his throat as his knees buckled. He collapsed back onto the sofa, the shockwave of his fall rattling the coffee table.
"Dad!" Aditya was at his side in an instant, his strong arms catching his father before he could slump further. On the other side, Neha rushed in, her trembling hands grasping her father's arm.
"Dad…!" she cried, her voice breaking.
But I had already seen it. The color drained from Gautam's face in seconds, his lips paling, his breath faltering. His chest, once heaving, now moved slower… slower… and then—
It stopped.
The room went silent except for the relentless storm outside.
Gautam Aadani — head of an empire, feared across the business world — was gone
GAUTAM DIED.
****
"What are you all waiting for?! Kill that bastard! Shut every door!" Rahul's voice tore through the hall, desperation and rage twisting it into something almost feral.
With a resounding BANG, the massive double doors slammed shut in front of me-
The sound echoed through the grand hall, bouncing off chandeliers that glittered overhead like frozen stars. Gold-trimmed marble pillars stood like silent sentinels, their elegance mocking the chaos about to unfold.
It was all perfect, just too perfect I will make this night memorial for myself again. I want to remember their wide, trembling eyes, their voices cracking as Fear, their flowing Blood from bodies.
From the balcony above, a muzzle flashed.
Most people panic when they hear a gunshot. I don't.
Because here's the truth — you can train your brain to slow down time.
Not the supernatural kind you see in cheap movies, but the real, brutal trick of it. The human brain processes the world in three-second chunks. Cram more details into those three seconds, and the world feels slower. That's why, right before a car crash, you see everything — the shatter of glass, the twisting metal, the exact way your hands grip the wheel. But waste a day scrolling through reels, and time slips through your fingers like it never existed.
I've mastered that trick.
Up there, I saw the way his finger tightened on the trigger, the slight recoil of his shoulder before the bullet even left the barrel. My world stretched. Each frame clear. Each movement predictable.
I shifted to my dominant side — right — letting the bullet tear through the space my skull had occupied a moment ago. Smooth, precise.
Slowing time is one thing.
Dodging like Muhammad Ali?
That's something I was born with.
Kill them.
The words left my mouth like frost, each syllable colder than steel. My hand reached behind my back, fingers wrapping around the hilt of my knife.
I surged forward.
On the second floor, the guards hesitated — they knew one wrong shot would end up in their masters' bodies instead of mine. But the ones in the hall… they weren't so careful. They came at me in a wave, knives and short blades flashing under the chandelier's light.
My men roared, charging headlong to intercept. They fought like rabid wolves, steel meeting steel in a storm of sparks and screams. But I didn't hide behind them.
I moved in front.
a guy come forth with a hunting knife, trying to slander me with his knife. I catch his wrist, twist until bone snap like a dry wood then I jam my knife into his left eye. He screamed very hard leave his blade and grab the knife in his eye but he didn't dare to remove it not I don't try to pull it out, I kicked on his kneecap make him fall on ground then again kicked on that knife pushed it in until it punches through the back of his skull.
Another guy come forward with machete in his hand charged towards me, I let him cut me- feel the burn as it slices through my ribs. He smiled thinking he got me I grabbed his hand with right hand and his throat with left. I bite his cheek clean off his face he screamed loudly. I taste blood in my mouth, I spit out. I take his machete from his hand that he let loose and hack into his shoulder, then his stomach, then his thigh clean open.
Hack. Hack. Hack.
Blood sprays. He was still alive so I let him live or maybe twitching.
One of them shoots wildly towards me, one bullet grazes my ribs, blood pools, it burns I don't care about that. I rushed towards him, duck then tackled him on ground grab his gun hand and slam it into the ground until his hand let loose the gun then grabbed his own gun, shove it down in his throat, pulled trigger once, twice until there's nothing left above the jaw His skull splits like rotten fruit.
I get up grabbed machete again and pulled out that bullet out of my ribs. The look on Aadani family- priceless.
A knife slashed on my back. Deep.
I turn. The guy drops his blade when he sees my bloody face.
Too late I mumbled
I stab in the machete his chest, dragging it downwards through his stomach, tearing up skin, fat and muscle but slowly while I watch his eye bulge. I twist the machete and he gurgles. I live it in.
When I looked up, the hall was silent. Every Aadani bodyguard lay dead, my lackeys standing over the corpses. The few who had tried to flee were already being hunted down. There would be no survivors.
The hall was a slaughterhouse.
Bodies littered the marble like broken mannequins, the gold-trimmed pillars now streaked with red. My lackeys finished the last screams in the distance — steel biting into flesh until nothing moved.
Only four remained.
I stepped over corpses, boots soaking in the warm blood, and made my way toward the grand piano in the far corner. Its polished surface reflected the chandeliers above, now dimmed by smoke and dust.
I sat down. Fingers hovered over the keys for a heartbeat… then Moonlight Sonata — No. 14, Op. 27 No. 2 — began to echo through the death-filled hall.
Slow. Precise. Perfect.
"Fuuuckkkk! I'm going to kill you with my bare hands!" Rahul's scream shattered the silence. His voice was all rage — but it trembled.
"Rahul, don't be impulsive! Let's get out of here!" Aditya's tone wavered between command and pleading.
"Brother… let's go," Neha's voice cracked.
I kept playing.
"Sure enough," I said between notes, "whether it's a hundred times… or a thousand… tonight will always be worth it."
"What's wrong with him?" Aditya whispered to Neha.
"I'm going to kill this bastard!" Rahul's footsteps thundered closer.
I let him come.
Closer… closer…
The moment he was behind me, I tilted my head left, caught his wrist mid-swing, and twisted until bone strained. The knife slid from his grip into my hand, and without a second thought, I drove it into his chest.
Right into his heart.
"You're… disappointing, boy" I said coldly, moving back at him watching the light fade from his eyes.
He crumpled to the floor. Neha and Aditya caught him.
"Rahul!" Aditya pressed his hands to the wound, blood spilling between his fingers.
"Brother… brother…" Neha's sobs echoed.
"Why?" she asked, her tear-filled eyes locked on me.
I smiled faintly. "It was fun this time… see you next time."
Then I turned the blade inward. One sharp thrust into my own chest. Warmth surged up my throat, blood spilling over my lips.
I fell backward onto the piano with a satisfied smile on my face.
The sonata's final, broken notes rang in the air — a requiem for tonight's carnage
THIS IS HOW MR.INNOCENT/MR.LARENCE/NEEL DIED.
......…. IN PROCCESS OF REGRESSION NUMBER 1001