A Man Doesn't Die, The Fight Goes On!

A Man Doesn't Die, The Fight Goes On!

Joshua · Ongoing · 101.8k Words

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Introduction

Five years ago, Eric took the fall for his fiancée’s brother and was thrown into the notorious Saint Paul Mountain Women’s Prison.

Little did the world know, this hell on earth became his ultimate training ground.

Enduring brutal training under seven legendary masters, he emerged as a supreme martial artist and a divine healer, eventually taking over as the prison’s absolute warden.

But when he steps out, his world shatters: his three general brothers were ambushed and killed in action, his grandfather is on his deathbed, and his family empire has been reduced to ruins by wolves.

Now, the King of Saint Paul Mountain has returned to the city.

To those who betrayed his family and brought shame to his name—prepare to pay a hundredfold!

Chapter 1

Saint Paul Mountain Women's Prison. Warden's office.

"Ugh..."

The woman lying on the bench let out a low, muffled groan, tiny beads of cold sweat forming across her forehead.

Her name was Black Rose — one of the top killers on the international most-wanted list, serving a life sentence in this heavily guarded prison.

But right now, she was as docile as a cat.

"Stay still."

The young man standing before her wore a hard expression. He held a silver needle between his index and middle fingers, then drove it into the Xuanji acupoint above her chest, fast as lightning.

His name was Eric — the only man in this prison.

"Boss," Black Rose said through gritted teeth, her beautiful eyes filled with awe, "can you really cure my datura poisoning?"

"Too many questions. If you hadn't behaved yourself these past two years, I wouldn't bother with the Nine-Cycle Revival Needles." Eric's voice was calm as he gave his right hand a subtle tremor, sending a thread of pure vital energy through the needle and into her body.

Two full hours passed. Black Rose's clothes were soaked through with sweat.

When the last needle came out, she coughed up a mouthful of dark, foul-smelling blood and collapsed to her knees, crawling forward: "Thank you for saving my life, Boss!"

Eric wiped his hands with a blank expression and paid her no attention.

Five years ago, he was the young master of the Williams family in Washington — a rich kid with a reputation for being a playboy.

Back then, his whole world revolved around his fiancée, Elena Rossi.

Then one day, Elena's younger brother sexually assaulted a girl while drunk.

Elena knelt before him. "Eric, please — take the blame for my brother. The Rossi family can't lose him. Don't worry, three years. Three years at most and you'll be out. I'll marry you the moment you are, I promise."

He let his heart make the decision. He said yes. He took the fall.

What he didn't expect was that they wouldn't send him to an ordinary prison — they sent him to Saint Paul Mountain Women's Prison, a place people called hell on earth.

And no one could have predicted that those five years would become the starting point of his complete transformation.

The prison's former warden — his first mentor — along with six other fearsome women here, had seen something in him for reasons he never fully understood. They forced him to take them on as his masters.

For five years, he endured brutal, relentless training that pushed him past every human limit. In return, he forged himself into a martial arts master and a healer capable of bringing people back from the edge of death.

Six months ago, the former warden quietly stepped down and passed him the warden's position — the seat of absolute authority in this place.

"Boss." A guard with a powerfully built frame strode in from outside, wearing a strange look on his face. "There's a woman out front asking for you. She says she's... your sister-in-law."

Eric's brow furrowed. "Sister-in-law? What kind of joke is that? Saint Paul Mountain is a restricted zone for a hundred miles in every direction. Throw her out."

"But she's carrying the Williams family crest," the guard said quietly.

Eric's hand went still.

A moment later, a young woman in a sharp black business suit was escorted into the office. Her bearing was cool and distant.

Her name was Isabella Delgado — Washington's well-known ice-queen CEO.

"You're Eric?" Isabella looked him up and down, brow knit tight, her gaze carrying a sharp, appraising weight — and a flicker of disappointment she couldn't quite hide.

"I am. Who are you?" Eric said flatly.

"I'm your brother John's wife. Isabella." She let out a cold scoff and tossed a folder onto the desk. "Five years ago you took the fall for some woman and landed yourself in prison, turning the Williams family into a laughingstock all over Washington. If Grandfather hadn't insisted I come get you, I would never have set foot in this place. Come with me. I've already handled the release paperwork."

Eric gave a bitter smile. "Released? I'm fine where I am. Isabella, tell Grandfather I have things to take care of here. I'll come see him in person once things settle down."

"Fine where you are?" Isabella's eyes were filled with contempt. "You've been hiding out in a prison full of women, completely cut off from the world — and you don't even know the sky has fallen back home?"

Something cold moved through Eric's chest. "What do you mean?"

Isabella's eyes turned red in an instant. She stared at him with clenched teeth. "Three years ago, fighting broke out on the northern border. Your three brothers — John, James, Robert — all three of them generals. They launched an all-out assault, walked straight into an ambush, and died on the northern front. Not a trace of their bodies was ever found."

The words hit him like a physical blow.

Eric's face went white. He stumbled back three steps and knocked over the chair behind him.

"That's impossible. There's no way. My brothers were the best soldiers alive — how could they be dead? You're lying!" His eyes flooded red. His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white.

"Lying? Why would I use my own husband's death to lie to a useless man like you?" Isabella's tears broke through. "And that's not all. Grandfather collapsed when he heard the news. Years of overwork, and then that — it destroyed him. On top of that, the Williams family business has been under attack from every direction. He's dying, Eric. He doesn't have much time left. His one wish is to see you — his good-for-nothing grandson — one last time before he goes."

Eric felt like he'd been struck by lightning. He tore out of the office like a madman and ran straight to the security room.

"Boss—" The guard at the door jumped back in alarm.

"The letters! Every letter Washington sent me over the last three years — where are they?!" Eric's voice cracked and broke.

The guard's face went pale. His hands were shaking as he pulled a dusty iron box from the bottom of the safe. "Boss... this was the former warden's order. She said you were in the middle of a life-or-death training breakthrough at the time, and that your mind couldn't be disturbed by outside matters. So she... she kept them from you."

Eric ripped the box out of his hands and tore it open.

Inside were more than a dozen letters from home, and a stack of yellowed newspapers from three years ago.

His hands were trembling as he tore open the first envelope. He recognized his grandfather's handwriting:

"Eric, are you doing alright in there? Don't blame your brothers for not coming to visit — the border situation has turned critical, and they're shipping out today. Focus on getting through your time. The Williams family will always be your home..."

He picked up the newspaper on top of the stack. The front-page headline hit him like a blade:

BREAKING — NORTHERN FRONT: THREE WILLIAMS GENERALS AMBUSHED BY ENEMY FORCES. JOHN, JAMES, AND ROBERT WILLIAMS FIGHT TO THE LAST MAN. KILLED IN ACTION. NO REMAINS RECOVERED.

In the photo were three faces he knew better than his own — full of life, full of fire.

The three older brothers who had spoiled him his whole life. The ones who laughed and covered for him every time he got into trouble.

"—pfft—"

The grief surged up all at once. A violent pressure seized his chest, and he vomited a full mouthful of blood across the newspaper in front of him.

"Boss!" the guard cried out.

Isabella had followed him in. Something complicated moved through her eyes at the sight, but her voice stayed cold. "Believe it now? Three years ago, the sky fell on the Williams family. Every friend, every relative who used to flatter us — they scattered like we had the plague. Some of them kicked us while we were down. The ancestral home at Swan Lake No. 1 was sold off to cover debts. Grandfather can barely afford his medical bills anymore. If you have even a shred of conscience left, come back to Washington with me right now."

Eric gripped the bloodstained newspaper with both hands.

"Back to Washington." He forced the words out through clenched teeth, one by one. "Right now."

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