Chapter Title: The Ruthless Ambush in the Jungle**
Aryan was steadily advancing through the dense forest, moving forward with a calm confidence that seemed almost unnatural. He didn't appear the least bit concerned about the possibility of being attacked by a wild beast or another human. His belief was simple—he was confident that if someone, or something, tried to ambush him, he would sense it before it could reach him. This unshakable trust in his instincts allowed him to move through the wilderness without hesitation.
However, just as Aryan was progressing deeper into the jungle, a chilling sound echoed behind him—a man's sinister laughter.
Startled but composed, Aryan turned around to identify the source. His eyes fell upon a tall tree, where a young man around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old was perched like a predator watching its prey. There was a dark and cruel glint in his eyes, and his gaze was fixed on Aryan with the intensity of someone looking at a corpse that had yet to fall.
Aryan felt a surge of revulsion. The man's very presence oozed malice, and his expression seemed to revel in sadism.
The man grinned wickedly and called out to Aryan, "Boy, you've walked into the wrong place. If you value your life, hand over that bag strapped to your back. Do that, and maybe—I repeat, maybe—I'll let you live. But if you try anything smart, I'll make sure no one will even find your remains. Got it?"
Aryan's eyes narrowed, his calm demeanor beginning to crack under the weight of his growing rage. He clenched his fists but took a deep breath to suppress the fury rising within him.
And then, with a cold smirk, he replied, "You're dreaming in broad daylight. That's not good for your health. If you really think you can take what's mine, come and try. Let's see what you've got."
The man's expression darkened, and the wicked grin vanished from his face. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he shouted, "You brat! Looks like you're dying to meet your end. Don't worry—I'll grant your wish. I'll give you such a gruesome death that you'll regret ever opening your mouth to me!"
With those words, the man leaped down from the towering tree with remarkable agility. Aryan could now sense the man's cultivation—he was at the peak of Martial Spirit Gathering Level 5. But what struck Aryan as odd was that the man couldn't sense his own cultivation level. This likely meant Aryan's aura was masked by some external artifact or skill.
Still, the man assumed Aryan was either a regular boy or someone with concealed strength—but surely weaker than himself. After all, in a jungle this dangerous, a regular boy would've been dead already.
The man started walking toward Aryan slowly, deliberately.
As he closed the distance, he said in a grim tone, "Before I kill you, let me introduce myself—because when you arrive in hell, you should at least know who sent you there. My name is Nawab Sheikh, and I'm a member of the infamous bandit gang 'Eagle's Eye.' This jungle is our domain. And now that you know who I am… prepare to die."
With a burst of violent energy, Nawab Sheikh raised his arm and lunged toward Aryan with a deadly punch. Aryan simply shook his head, as if mourning the man's foolishness.
In his mind, Aryan silently offered condolences to Nawab Sheikh—who had no idea what kind of opponent he was dealing with. Aryan raised his fist, matching Nawab's attack with one of his own.
As Nawab's punch traveled through the air, it carried a chilling wind, its sheer force causing a drop in temperature. Aryan's punch, on the other hand, created shockwaves that erupted like explosions.
Thanks to his Heavenly Library, Aryan had already scanned Nawab Sheikh's capabilities. He confirmed Nawab was indeed at the peak of Martial Spirit Gathering Level 5. Therefore, Aryan decided to counter him with equal strength—nothing more, nothing less. He summoned just enough power to match Nawab's, equivalent to lifting four tons.
The moment their fists collided, a devastating shockwave burst from the epicenter of the impact, ripping nearby trees from their roots and sending birds scattering into the sky. Both fighters were thrown backward by several steps.
Nawab was stunned. For the first time, he realized the boy in front of him wasn't ordinary. He had matched him—blow for blow. How could that be?
Jealousy flared in Nawab's heart.
Aryan was only sixteen, yet he already possessed the power of a Martial Spirit Gathering Level 5 expert. Nawab, at Aryan's age, had barely reached the peak of Level 1. The realization burned at him.
"I cannot allow someone more talented than me to live," Nawab muttered under his breath. "If I see someone my junior with greater power… I eliminate them. No exceptions."
With those cold thoughts, he steadied himself once again and glared at Aryan.
"You've sealed your fate, boy. No one can save you now. You will die at my hands simply because I cannot let someone more gifted than me walk this earth. Say your goodbyes to your family in your final moments."
He charged at Aryan with renewed bloodlust.
Aryan, however, didn't flinch. Instead, he grew more focused. The sheer lunacy of Nawab Sheikh's obsession with eliminating gifted individuals was something he couldn't fully comprehend—but sadly, it wasn't uncommon in this world.
He didn't want to kill Nawab. Aryan believed that every life had value, regardless of who recognized it. He wasn't the type to kill unnecessarily.
So, instead of unleashing lethal force, Aryan chose to meet Nawab's strike with another measured counterpunch. The impact once again sent both of them flying in opposite directions, carving craters in the earth where they landed.
Aryan was surprised that his relatively simple punch had matched such ferocity. But he didn't dwell on it. He dusted himself off and began walking toward Nawab again.
Seeing this, Nawab also prepared himself, this time summoning a powerful sword from the storage ring on his finger. Aryan's eyes widened with awe—he had only read about such artifacts in cultivation novels. Now, he was seeing one in real life for the first time.
For a moment, Aryan was distracted by the wonder of it. But he quickly composed himself and focused back on Nawab's swordplay.
Nawab began swirling his sword in complex patterns in the air, performing flamboyant moves. Aryan simply stared at him with a puzzled look.
"This is unnecessary," Aryan thought. "What's the point of all this showmanship?"
After a while, Aryan grew bored of the display. He stood still, waiting for the real attack to begin.
And then it came.
Nawab, sensing Aryan's boredom, seized the opportunity and launched a sudden attack. But Aryan was already prepared. As Nawab closed in with his blade, Aryan evaded the strike.
However, to his surprise, the sword followed him—no matter where he dodged, the blade changed direction and homed in on him. Aryan realized this wasn't just physical combat—it was a weapon imbued with spiritual tracking.
Still, Aryan didn't panic. Instead, he drew the sword strapped to his back and, in one clean strike, neutralized Nawab's attack. The force of Aryan's blow was so precise and overwhelming that it completely dismantled Nawab's technique.
Now enraged beyond reason, Nawab screamed, "I will tear you apart and feed your pieces to my beasts!"
He then summoned all his tamed creatures—ferocious spiritual beasts he had raised over the years. Among them was a terrifying Blood-Horned Lion, a high-tier eagle at Level 5, and other wild beasts resembling wild boars, cheetahs, and bear hybrids.
All of them charged at Aryan in unison.
Aryan's eyes narrowed, fury erupting within him. He drew his blade and moved like a storm. Within minutes, every one of Nawab's beasts had fallen—slain cleanly by Aryan's precise, powerful strikes.
Once the beasts lay dead, Aryan turned his gaze toward Nawab.
Nawab's bravado had turned to terror. Aryan marched toward him like a force of nature. In a flash, Aryan closed the distance and struck Nawab with such force that the man crumpled to the ground, defeated.
Aryan placed his foot firmly on Nawab's neck and stared down at him.
"Now tell me—should I kill you or let you live? You tried to take my life for no reason. Give me one good reason I shouldn't end you here."
Trembling, Nawab stammered, "L-look, I'm the younger brother of the Eagle's Eye Master. If you kill me, they'll hunt you down. You'll be a dead man walking!"
Aryan scoffed. "Looks like the rope is burnt, but the snake's still twitching. I think I've heard enough."
With a calm yet grim expression, Aryan lifted his sword and delivered a fatal blow.
Nawab Sheikh died on the spot.
Here is your full translated and refined English version of the message:
**Will Aryan's Life in This Jungle Finally Find Peace?**
Now that Nawab Sheikh has been defeated, will Aryan's journey through this jungle finally become smoother? Or is there an even more terrifying threat waiting just around the corner? Will he be able to withstand the challenges ahead, or will it be too late?
To find out, stay tuned to *I Can Learn Anything*!
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**A Note from the Author:**
Dear readers,
I understand that this chapter may have felt a little slow or boring to some of you. But I want to share a bit of truth with you.
In real life, I am one of those countless workers who spend long hours working at a factory. Every day, I wake up at 5:00 in the morning, get ready, and leave for work by 6:45 AM. I don't return home until around 8:30 PM at night.
Now, you can probably imagine how little time I have left in the day to work on writing chapters for this novel.
Despite that, I am doing my best to keep this story alive and moving forward.
Thank you so much for your patience, support, and understanding.