Dean scoffed. "Don't worry, Mr. Sanford. I'll handle this arrogant fool." With a single leap, he landed on the fighting platform. Jerry looked at Dean with extreme contempt and taunted, "If it were Atlas, perhaps he could have given me a decent fight. But you, his worthless senior? You're not worthy—save yourself the humiliation!" Dean's gaunt face turned ashen as he gritted his teeth. "Jerry, you're only slightly more famous than me. Even if I can't defeat you, I'll at least make sure you suffer!" With that, Dean launched into a flurry of lightning-fast punches toward Jerry. Jerry moved with measured steps, turning left and right before delivering a powerful palm strike that sent Dean stumbling back three steps. "Garbage!" Jerry mocked, still keeping one hand behind his back. Dean was enraged and charged forward three steps before leaping high and launching a series of three rapid kicks. Three loud thuds sounded, and Jerry retreated while blocking Dean's flying kicks with
Jerry's eyes narrowed as he laughed bitterly. "So you're a nobody who's afraid to speak up. Fine, I'll make you pay for your ignorance and arrogance." Down below, the Rhodes family bodyguards were rubbing their hands in anticipation, already envisioning Jerry's decisive victory after defeating two of Madblade's fighters. "Andrew, this is the final round—if Jerry wins, we've got this in the bag! Watch and learn what real power looks like!" "Kid, look at Jerry, and then look at yourself. From what I can see, you probably couldn't even last half a move against him," one guard sneered. Another laughed, "Half a move? Jerry's breath alone could blow him away!" They continued their mockery: "The entire tournament was won by Jerry single-handedly. Hey Andrew, didn't you say you wouldn't let us lose? Haven't seen you lift a finger!" With victory seemingly within reach, Jerry's followers had become increasingly arrogant, praising him while ridiculing Andrew. Andrew just smiled a
Below the ring, Andrew nodded slightly. Jerry's arrogance was backed by real skill, but unfortunately, the martial arts path was like a mighty river flowing into an endless ocean—there were always greater depths to discover. Ivan finally moved, transforming from his mountain-like stillness into explosive action. His classic internal martial arts technique concentrated all his power into a single point, channeling his energy like a surging tide before releasing it like a dragon's strike. Then, a dull thud echoed through the arena. Jerry's palm strike connected with Ivan's chest, but Ivan's counter-strike to Jerry's abdomen was even faster. Blood gushed out from Jerry's mouth as he staggered back three steps, his face pale as paper and filled with shock. Meanwhile, Ivan stood unmoved, wearing a look of disdain. He commented, "The Octa-Palm technique flows like a swimming dragon, fluid and adaptable. Too bad you've only scratched the surface of what your master created." Ivan wa
Rodney chuckled. "Mr. Lincoln, you truly live up to the high regard my father holds for you. Please rest, and I'll make sure you're properly compensated later." Ivan nodded and turned to leave, but Andrew's voice cut through the air. "Wait." Everyone froze—both Rodney's Madblade Martial Academy group and Rhodes family bodyguards were stunned. "Andrew, what are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Jerry growled through his pain. The bodyguards joined in, "Are you insane? Even Jerry was defeated! Do you want to die?" "Shut up! We already have a lot of problems on our plate!" "Andrew, don't try to get yourself killed. Mr. Lincoln is obviously a powerful expert—no one can save you!" Since even a master like Jerry had been defeated, they viewed Andrew's interruption as suicidal. The Rhodes family bodyguards were amazed at Andrew's audacity, believing he was playing with fire. "Well, our side still has one person who hasn't fought yet," Andrew said casually. "O
Ivan stood on the platform with his arms crossed, letting out a disdainful snort that showed his complete contempt. "Andrew, what the hell are you doing?" Jerry shouted. Andrew gave him a cold glance and replied, "Since you're badly injured and have already embarrassed the Rhodes family, you should stay quiet." Jerry's fury triggered his stomach wound, making him wince in pain. "Andrew, you can't possibly beat this guy," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Once you step into that ring, your life is in your own hands—do you understand that?" He had seen many reckless young men like this before—all courage and no wisdom. In his experience, they usually ended up as corpses. "Andrew, we've warned you multiple times not to throw your life away!" one of the bodyguards shouted. "If you get yourself killed, that's one thing, but you'll be putting Ms. Rhodes in a terrible position! Get lost—you're not as important as you think you are!" The Rhodes family bodyguards were furious, o
In the world of martial arts, following the unspoken rules of the ring meant that even if someone died, it was considered their own fault. And with the Madblade Martial Academy's influence in Jayrodale, the loss of one or two lives was nothing significant—they could easily sweep it under the rug. Ivan lowered his crossed arms, a mocking smile playing on his lips. He gestured at Andrew with a beckoning motion. "Kid, I'll give you the first move. If you can get close to me or even touch my clothes, I'll admit defeat." His arrogance made Jerry seem modest in comparison, but no one dared to laugh. Everyone believed Ivan had the strength to back up his confidence. Jerry coughed twice and muttered, "Mr. Lincoln isn't just some random nobody. It's a shame I can't figure out who he really is. Andrew's chances don't look good." On the platform, Andrew casually strolled toward Ivan, his movements unhurried. "Since you're being so polite, I won't hold back." Andrew's calm response pr
Andrew handled the attacks with remarkable ease. Though seemingly chaotic, his footwork followed an intricate pattern that left observers mesmerized. Despite Ivan's relentless offensive maneuvers, he could not land a single clean hit on Andrew's body. Andrew said calmly, "I think we've played enough. By your founders' standards, Mr. Lincoln, your technique barely made the cut. Perhaps another 20 years of practice would do you some good." With lightning speed, Andrew brought his right hand down, striking Ivan's wrist bone. Ivan let out a painful roar as his wrist trembled violently as if he had been bitten by a venomous snake. Before he could counter, Andrew's knee was already driving upward. Ivan's eyes blazed with fury as he prepared to take the hit head-on, believing his physical prowess would allow him to withstand the impact while simultaneously launching a lethal counterattack to Andrew's head. These thoughts had barely crossed Ivan's mind when he felt a searing pai
By that logic, Rodney was about as formidable as a mere ant compared to Andrew's capabilities. "Mr. Sanford, do we still need your permission to reclaim our 60 million now?" Andrew asked with a subtle smirk. Rodney's face twitched at the question. The thought of someone needing his permission would have been understandable before, but now it made his heart race. He gritted his teeth and said, "Mr. Lloyd, your martial prowess is truly admirable, and the Madblade Martial Academy respects your skill. Dean, return the 60 million we owe to Rhodes Corporation." Dean was already terrified out of his mind. He could not even beat Jerry, who had nearly died at Ivan's hands, and Ivan had just been thoroughly defeated by Andrew. The comparison made Dean realize he was not even in the same league as Andrew. "J-Just a moment… I'll transfer the money right away!" Dean stammered, offering no resistance this time. The hundreds of martial arts students had lost their fighting spirit, too
Yet, of all the fearless, reckless men they had encountered, neither Aspen nor Chantelle had ever seen anyone as stubbornly arrogant as Andrew. Both women were completely stunned, wondering where he even got the guts to say things like that. In this world, commoners fear officials—but officials? They fear the men with guns—the military. However, here was Andrew, treating a colonel like Xavier as if he were worthless weeds. It was utter madness—like a sparrow challenging an eagle, a lamb taunting a wolf. It was sheer recklessness bordering on suicide. With a thunderous swoosh, Xavier's massive broadsword came crashing down with enough force to split boulders and level trees. Just the murderous pressure from that swing made Chantelle's face go pale. She was starting to doubt if she could even stand up to Xavier herself. After all, Andrew looked like he was about to be torn in half by that blade. What infuriated her even more was that, at the height of danger, Andrew just st
"Colonel Haywood, you know full well that with your rank and position, you can't just go around killing people on a whim," Chantelle warned coldly. She added, "Besides, your friend Andarov used banned weaponry on Holtrien soil, which is a serious offense. You can be sure Mr. McCormick won't just let that slide." Left with no other option, Chantelle had to drop Derek's name to try to rein Xavier in. However, Xavier was not intimidated at all. His voice dripped with venom as he said, "Ms. Garcia, I respect Mr. McCormick—he governs this province, and I'll give him that. But do you think the Haywoods' name should be trampled like dirt? Especially by some no-name punk who doesn't know his place? "I'll chop him into pieces, and if I have to, I'll apologize to Mr. McCormick myself. But with the military accolades I've earned, the Haywood family's backing, and my deep ties in the defense department, killing this bug wouldn't even cause a blip on the radar." Chantelle's stomach twiste
Chantelle sneered, "All in all, you're just an ordinary man, a slave to your desires with a pathetically mediocre mind." She had finally caught an opening to hit Andrew where it hurt, and she was not about to waste it. Andrew chuckled. "Ms. Garcia, you really do live up to your title as a master of psychology. You got most of it right. But you still missed one tiny detail—like the fact that, right now, I've got a very clear image of your naked body in my mind." The bluntness of that line stunned Chantelle, and her expression twisted in outrage. She snapped, "Andrew! That was in the past—how dare you bring it up like it's nothing? Aren't you worried I'll kill you?" The usually cold woman was genuinely furious now. Andrew shrugged lazily. "I'm sitting right here, wounded and unarmed. Go ahead, kill me. But even if you did, you still wouldn't erase the fact that you once stripped bare in front of me." Chantelle raised her hand in fury but forced herself to lower it again with
Andrew was sitting on the lawn outside Serenity Villa, watching the crew from The Sovereign Residences repair his home. After the attack last night, it was a miracle the place was still standing—if the villa had not been built to the highest security standards, it would have been reduced to nothing but ash and rubble by the Srovika Federation mercenaries. Felix Daughtry, the security captain from The Sovereign Residences, a semi-martial king-level fighter, walked over with a grim expression and reported, "Mr. Lloyd, Serenity Villa took quite a hit. Full restoration might be difficult." Andrew glanced at him and said coldly, "I want it restored exactly as it was, and not just that—The Sovereign Residences will need to compensate me for all damages, including emotional distress. If that's too much, then I don't want the house anymore. I'll go to the press and let the world know just how useless your brand really is." Felix's face darkened, turning almost pitch black with anger. H
Since the night before, Xavier had been fully suited in military attire, standing vigilant and sleepless. He gripped a massive broadsword, and when the butler spoke, his voice was ice-cold. "Don't worry. Andarov won't fail me. That bastard Andrew is as good as dead." Though those were his words, doubt lingered in Xavier's mind. After all, Andarov never took this long to finish a kill. Nonetheless, the sun was rising—he should be back any minute now. Andarov, commander of the Blood Wolf Mercenaries, was ruthless and battle-hardened. Xavier met him while stationed overseas, and after several missions together, they became close allies. "With the entire Blood Wolf squad under him, it doesn't matter if Andrew has bodyguards. He won't last five minutes," Xavier sneered, confident. He was already planning the next steps—hold Seth's memorial as soon as Andarov returned, then introduce him to Luna to score even more clout. Having a famous international mercenary as a personal friend? E
At the Golding family estate, Elon exclaimed in disbelief, "What did you just say? Black Wolf is dead?" The butler, face tight with unease, replied, "Yes, sir. Early this morning, his body was found dumped in the sewer. The cause of death matched the last group of assassins perfectly. There's no doubt that it was Andrew who killed him." Elon's expression darkened instantly. "Even Black Wolf failed and ended up dead? Andrew... you've clearly been hiding more strength than we thought." The butler nodded gravely. "Sir, that man is definitely not some pawn on the board. Not only is Black Wolf gone, but the Srovika Federation mercenary commander the Haywoods brought in also died at Serenity Villa." Elon gasped. "Even Xavier's overseas hitman got wiped out? Are you absolutely sure?" The old butler's brow twitched. "Completely sure. This morning, both bodies—Black Wolf and the mercenary captain—were found side by side in the sewer on Blumedale's main street." Elon clenched his ja
On the ground, Black Wolf writhed in pain, howling in disbelief. He finally understood why that last squad of heavily armed mercenaries had vanished without a trace after storming Serenity Villa. This place was not just a house—it was a damn death trap. "Who sent you to kill me?" Andrew asked calmly as he twirled the dagger Black Wolf had dropped. Pinned down by Natasha and Dylan, Black Wolf was drenched in sweat, his shattered legs leaving him gasping in agony. He growled, "Why the hell should I tell you? You should know exactly who you've pissed off. Even if I'm in your hands, kid, if you lay a finger on me, the consequences—" Andrew did not let him finish. Instead, he drove the blade straight into Black Wolf's chest. Whatever threat Black Wolf was about to spit out died on his tongue. His eyes bulged in shock before his head slumped to the side—dead. "If you didn't have the sense to act like a prisoner, then I did you a favor and sent you straight to hell. Next time, try
Aspen could not help leaning closer to see what Andrew was doing. To her surprise, his breathing was steady—he was already asleep. She stared at him, both amused and annoyed as she thought, 'I'm lying right next to him, and he still manages to fall asleep? Am I not attractive enough? Or does this guy just not find me worth the effort?' That split second of realization triggered an unexpected wave of disappointment and frustration in her. … Meanwhile, outside Serenity Villa, a black figure moved silently across the ruined outer wall, climbing with inhuman ease. It was Black Wolf—Elon's secret weapon, a top-tier assassin with a reputation to match. A matte-finished blade dangled from his lips as he surveyed the building, swiftly memorizing the layout of the damaged villa. He was not alone. At least a dozen other men hid in the dark, surrounding the perimeter and lying in wait. Nonetheless, they were not predators, at least not to him. He scoffed, thinking, 'They're the bait,
Through the second half of the night, Serenity Villa remained eerily quiet. Chantelle stepped out from her lookout post and announced, "Looks like no one else is coming tonight. Everyone should get some rest." Andrew stopped her. "Hold up. You all stay on watch—I'll go rest." Chantelle narrowed her eyes. "Are you giving me orders like I'm your subordinate?" Andrew responded calmly, "Not at all. I just want to isolate myself and draw the next assassin in alone." Chantelle frowned. "So, you're planning to be alone in a room and give the assassin a shot at you? You're using yourself as bait?" Andrew replied, "Exactly. One mercenary commander from the Srovika Federation is dead, but with the Haywoods and Goldings both after my head, there's no way they'd just send one decent hitter and be done." Chantelle nodded. "That… makes sense. But you're injured. What happens if something unexpected comes up? Can you really handle it?" Before Andrew could answer, Aspen blurted, "It's