Andrew's patience had run out as he spoke in a cold tone. "One last time—tell Natasha to come out and talk now."
The tattooed giant mocked, "Or what? What can you do? Andrew, you might have some history with West End, but if you think that gives you the right to make demands, you're in the wrong place."
As he moved to push Andrew away again, the other guards snickered. With Atlas' fall, Natasha had become Jayrodale's most powerful underground leader, and they could not believe this man's audacity in challenging West End.
Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed through the air—the sound of a wrist being broken.
The tattooed giant let out an agonizing scream. "My hand! You broke my hand! Get him! Attack!"
The fifty-over guards stood shocked for a moment before charging forward with angry shouts. Andrew's face turned cold as his leg swept out.
Screams filled the air as the first wave of guards went flying, their faces meeting Andrew's foot. The tattooed giant, his wrist still in Andrew
