Todos los capítulos de Rising from the Ashes: Capítulo 661 - Capítulo 670

Andrew quickly realized that in Dream Paradise, the so-called foreign masseuses that everyone raved about were not actually imported at all. They were just local girls wrapped up in fancy packaging, and they only knew a handful of common phrases. Yet, somehow, their broken Eastonian still managed to charm young men into emptying their wallets just for a chance to be here. Sighing, Andrew muttered, "Man, ignorance is a scary thing." The woman on his left immediately switched gears, dropping her fake accent and blurting out in a thick, local dialect, "Oh, come on, big guy! Are you looking down on us or what? Once you get a massage, you have to pay up—our boss will mess you up if you don't!" The one on his right chimed in, her accent just as heavy, "Exactly! You're acting all stingy and won't even go for the premium options—what's up with that?" "You're the first guy I've ever seen who came here just for a plain old massage. Are you sure it's not a performance issue?" Andrew d

Marcus immediately caught on—Sean was deliberately looking for trouble with Andrew. Nonetheless, since Andrew was his guest, he was responsible for stepping up and handling the situation. He said, "Sean, if you keep this up, I'll be taking this straight to Raymond!" Sean snorted. "Go ahead. I'm his only son—do you really think he'd scold me over some outsider?" Marcus' anger flared even more as he realized Sean was really a piece of work. Before he could respond, Andrew raised a hand, cutting him off. "Mr. Chapman, I'll handle this. It's just a scam joint—either they want your money, or they want your life. Since they're so eager for cash, I'll play along." Marcus gritted his teeth. "Mr. Lloyd, don't worry. Dream Paradise won't get away with this—I'll make sure they give us an explanation!" Andrew smirked. "An explanation? That's not even worth a dime. They just want money, right? Fine, I'll give it to them." Marcus was stunned. "Mr. Lloyd, you…" Andrew had already pul

Andrew set his phone down and glanced at Sean. "Rodney's on his way. He said he's coming to tear down your club." Sean and Dexter exchanged looks before bursting into laughter. Dexter clutched his stomach as if he couldn't breathe. "Andrew, you're really putting on a show here! If I didn't already know what a nobody you are, I might've actually believed you!" Rodney was one of Jayrodale's Four Most Eligible Bachelors, and he ranked higher than Dexter. Not only that, but because he trained at Madblade Martial Academy, he was notoriously arrogant. He did not even give guys like Harvey and Michael the time of day, let alone someone like Dexter. So, the idea that Rodney would rush over because Andrew called? That was laughable. If anything, Dexter figured that if Andrew did run into Rodney, he would probably drop to his knees in terror. However, Marcus shot Andrew a deep look, knowing that this underground king was done playing. Dream Paradise—and that idiot Sean—were about to

In an instant, the hundred plus men Dylan and Natasha had brought with them unleashed absolute chaos upon Dream Paradise. Glass shattered, furniture splintered, and the deafening sound of destruction filled the air. They did not stop until the last intact piece of glass was reduced to nothing but shards on the floor. Dexter's throat bobbed as he struggled to breathe, his body locked in pure terror. He could not believe the sudden turn of events. Andrew was supposed to be a spineless nobody—a worthless, pretty boy who lived off wealthy women. Yet not only had he summoned Rodney, but he had also brought in Dylan and Natasha, two of the most feared underground figures in the city. Each of them alone was already untouchable. Together? Even the Combs family would not survive if they wanted it gone. Before long, a foul stench filled the air again. Dexter, following in Sean's pathetic footsteps, had completely pissed himself. "Andrew—no, Mr. Lloyd! Mr. Lloyd, please! Have mercy! Y

Andrew had Marcus figured out by now. If he had to sum him up in one sentence, it would be—a closet hedonist, through and through. The two were originally planning to head back to Rhodes Corporation together. However, before they could leave, Andrew's phone rang—it was Francesca. "Andrew, where are you? Get to Moonlit Apothecary right now—Nyla's in critical condition!" Her voice was trembling, thick with panic and distress. Andrew's face turned ice-cold. "What happened? Take a deep breath and tell me everything!" Francesca broke down into sobs. "That hunchbacked bastard—Aspen's guy—the one she hired! He hit Nyla, Andrew! Please, hurry! The poison is spreading fast—I can't save her!" Andrew did not waste another second. He hung up, slammed his foot on the gas, and tore through the streets toward Moonlit Apothecary. If Francesca's description was right, Nyla had been struck by Gordon's Plaguebringer's Palm. Andrew had survived it before because he was immune to toxins. Howe