Chapter 5

The sound of a solid wallop shattered the silence. Eric shot upward, spinning like a ballerina, before slamming his head into a chair and spitting out several teeth.

"Maith teeth! Noth maith teeth!" he wailed.

The crowd gasped. Everyone could feel how excruciating it must be to get slapped by someone's shoe.

The elders of the families, however, exchanged glances tinged with admiration. The Wagners' spoiled brat had probably never been disciplined like this before, and yet this young man had broken that record with nothing more than his shoe.

"Maith teeth! Dadth!" Eric moaned and glanced at his father, who had leapt to his feet, fists slamming down in fury.

"You talked shite last time, but I let you off because Gwen told me to. Doesn't mean I'm gonna let you talk shite at me again!" Dante raised his shoe and charged at Eric, ignoring George's rage entirely.

Panicked, Eric scrambled behind one of the Wagners' bodyguards—a large man with tanned skin and intimidating features—and shouted, "Do something!"

The man sized up George's stormy expression and the calm, confident looks of the Beaumonts.

He stomped his foot. A menacing aura radiated from him. "Listen to me, kid. No matter how much they pay you to be their thug, stop. You cannot take on the Wagners. Apologize now before it's too late!"

Dante snickered and hurled his shoe at him in reply.

"You're dead!" The man's veins bulged as he swung a lethal punch at Dante, aiming for his chest.

The Beaumonts wanted to humiliate the Wagners, right? Then defending themselves was fair game.

The man had overlooked why Marcus and Gwendolyn were grinning. He realized it too late when the flying shoe struck his cheek before his punch could land, sending him sprawling onto his bum.

Dante's attack had been deadly—at least to one's reputation.

Eric had already abandoned hope when he saw their most capable bodyguards fail. "Daaadth! Heeelpth!"

Dante was about to launch himself at Eric again when Gwendolyn intervened and dragged the Devil's favorite gremlin back. "Danny, that's enough! Don't overdo it!"

She turned to George and spoke directly. "My family treats others as they treat us. Anyone who shows us respect receives respect in return. Anyone who doesn't, we repay in kind. I hope you understand that, Mr. Wagner. Next time, it won't end so lightly."

Eric growled through his lisp, "Gweth-dolynth… Youth b-beetc—"

"Enough! Haven't you embarrassed our family enough, you halfwit?!" George snapped.

"B-Buth they areth mockingth us! We canth justh let thith go!"

George shot a cold glance at Dante, then turned to Marcus. "It seems my son misinterpreted the relationship between your granddaughter and someone she trained with. For that, I apologize. I hope we can remain cordial allies despite this."

Marcus narrowed his eyes and regarded George with appreciation. Everyone in Audraco knew the man was unusually shrewd, even in his youth. He understood when to press and when to yield, and this was proof.

"Young men get into conflicts easily, don't they? It's fine. All is well," Marcus said, his eyes on Dante, pleased. "Now that the misunderstanding is cleared, let's move on. We should head home."

…

On their way home, Lambert finally said, "Dante humiliating Eric and his family in public could not have been good for us, could it? One thing I know for sure is that George is dangerously vindictive."

Lambert struggled to make sense of Dante's actions. The man had always followed the rules, so to Lambert, Dante seemed like someone driven only by impulse.

Marcus remained calm. "Do you really think you can reason with a brute as if this were just business?"

Lambert fell silent.

"Dante knows people like them respond only to good old-fashioned violence. How could you not know that? You're a father. Being weak and spineless only encourages others to walk over you," Marcus added, smiling.

Lambert froze. Of course. Had he been less tolerant of Eric's antics, the latter would never have dared spread lies that tarnished his daughter's honor.

…

While the Beaumonts debated the fallout from Dante's actions, the Wagners rushed Eric to the hospital.

"Dad! He beat me up and humiliated me in front of everyone! I lost some teeth, and my face is ruined! I can't believe you let them get away with it!" Eric wailed.

"You halfwitted son. Do you ever use your brain? You need to see the bigger picture and plan accordingly. Impulsiveness is a weakness," George said sharply. "I told you to stay calm and carry yourself with dignity. Did you do that? No. You demanded things like a little emperor from that punk. That is disrespect toward Marcus in itself!"

"But—"

"No buts! The Beaumonts know martial arts, you numbskull. We don't. Rumor has it Marcus used to be a martial arts master. Do you really want him beating you? You could have lost more than teeth!"

"And then what? Just let the Beaumonts walk all over us?"

"Excuse me? Who do you think we are? Doormats? I said you need restraint and dignity. That doesn't mean weakness. Remember what I told you a few years ago?"

Eric blinked. "No way."

"Yes. But don't tell anyone. Our influence hasn't fully reached that city. We need to stick to our plan—slow and steady."

"Got it, Dad!" Eric grinned, excitement sparking in his eyes. "And when we finally cement our power… that bitch and her gigolo are finished."

…

During dinner time, Lambert returned to the table with a frown after an unexpected phone call. He regarded Dante cautiously. "George is dangerously vindictive. You should stay within the estate for now."

"Oh, Mr. Beaumont," Dante replied with a shrug. "My master always said the best way to defeat a knave is to be an even bigger knave than them. Why bother being civilized with a bunch of jerks? It's pointless!"

Lambert's face darkened. He caught sight of his father snickering and suddenly lost his appetite. With a hurried excuse, he rose and left.

Gwendolyn leaned toward Dante. "Don't worry about my old man. He's like that sometimes."

An unreadable grin curved Dante's lips. "Is he upset?"

"Oh, no! Of course not. Just pretend nothing happened."

"Alright. Anyway, I've had my fill. Thanks for dinner, Gwen. I'm going to shower. See you later, Grandpa Marcus!"

After Dante left, Marcus sipped his wine. "I like this kid. He reminds me of your master at his age. George is a shrewd schemer, but it seems Dante outwitted him like a fox."

"Hey! Danny's the most innocent, naive guy I've ever met!" Gwendolyn protested, bristling at her grandfather's backhanded praise.

Marcus smiled. "You really don't know him, do you?"

…

After his shower, Dante changed into fresh clothes and settled into his usual meditation.

The difference this time was in his aura. The innocent, naive demeanor had vanished. Dante now felt like a sharp blade, long hidden in a scabbard, ready to strike.

Outside the balcony, a rustle of movement stirred the air. A cold wind swept into the room.

A black figure materialized under the moonlight, their eyes fixed on him.

Dante opened his eyes slowly and met the gaze. "Aren't you tired of following me around like a dog for more than a decade?"