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Chapter 251
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2024-12-22 19:00:00
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Rising from the Ashes Chapter 252
"He's got a death wish! This guy's brain must be fried," Michael commented with disdain. "Even I wouldn't dare mess with Harvey, yet this nobody seems eager to end his life," Finley chimed in mockingly. After getting a good look at Andrew, the other spectators joined in with their own derisive laughter. The crowd muttered about his apparent lack of self-awareness. Who was this unknown challenger picking a fight with the Weller family? It was like bringing a knife to a gunfight. "Mr. Vaughn, what is Mr. Lloyd doing?" Elsie asked. The sudden turn of events stunned her. Silas gave a wry smile and replied, "Mr. Lloyd's actions are beyond my understanding, but he must have his reasons. Though Harvey's at the peak of his power, he might have met his match." "Are you saying Mr. Lloyd alone can stand against the entire Weller family?" Elsie asked in disbelief. She knew Andrew was formidable. After all, even Silas respected him. However, taking on the Weller family single-handed
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The strike was incredibly vicious, carrying the full force of the Weller family elder's 50 years of martial arts training. To experienced fighters like Finley and other martial arts experts in the crowd, it was clear that this attack carried lethal intent. Finley smirked. "This kid might have some skills, but he's hit a wall now. The fighter is obviously at least a junior grandmaster. Andrew couldn't possibly dodge that!" Down below, Lauren's expression suddenly tightened as she turned to Eunice and said, "Alert our people—if anything happens to Dr. Lloyd, we intervene immediately." "How do you plan to defend against my decades of refined combat experience?" the Weller family elder sneered. "Your arrogance comes with a price!" Many spectators instinctively covered their eyes, unable to watch what was coming. The elder's attack was beyond human limits, distorting the very air around them. Yet Andrew remained perfectly calm as he watched the thunderous palm strike approach. Whi
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"Lock this place down immediately—no outsiders can see this," the other Weller family elder commanded gravely. "That young man is at least a junior grandmaster-level fighter. We cannot provoke him again carelessly." Cold sweat broke out on Harvey's forehead. Andrew, a junior grandmaster? It had to be some cosmic joke. "He's no damn grandmaster! You must be mistaken," Harvey snarled. "Everyone, follow me! We'll cut him off and end this now!" He refused to believe that someone so young could hold such power in Jayrodale. "You'd better listen to me," the elder warned. "If you rush to your death, neither of us will step in to save you." The elder was already frustrated with Harvey's arrogant behavior since taking over. Even with one elder being critically injured, the new leader was still trying to pick fights. Harvey's face turned red with fury, but looking at the elder still bleeding on the ground, he had no choice but to back down. Without the elders' support, he did no
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Michael, mind your own business and go back to your figurines collection," Lauren snapped coldly. The reminder of his embarrassing hobby filled Michael with rage and humiliation. "Lauren, that pretty boy you're protecting is a dead man walking," Michael growled. "Considering Harvey's temperament, I'll rip my own head off and let him use it as a soccer ball if Andrew makes it out of the Weller residence today." Just then, Harvey emerged from the platform with a dark expression. He shot Andrew a venomous glare before forcing a smile and announcing, "Everyone, please leave. It's my father's funeral, and I don't want to cause a scene. The Weller family's mercy extends just this once." Someone from the crowd asked about the elder's hasty departure, and Harvey's face twitched with barely contained rage. Still, he maintained his facade and replied, "Our elder is formidable and has protected the Weller family for years. He's just tired after multiple fights and needs some rest."
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Atlas's eye twitched nervously as he pulled at Finley's sleeve. "Mr. Moore, let's get out of here. This madman has completely lost it today. It's best not to provoke him further." Finley, already unnerved by Michael's pitiful state, could not have agreed more as he quickly made his escape. Meanwhile, Michael was seething with murderous rage but knew better than to fight back, especially since his bodyguard Bane was not present today. "Andrew, Lauren, you'll both pay for this," Michael threatened as he fled, covering his swollen face. Lauren whistled loudly and called out to the departing crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, don't miss this! Michael, the heir who excels at gambling, drinking, and watching inappropriate videos alone in his room!" The crowd burst into laughter, making Michael stumble at the doorway. His reputation was completely destroyed, and he cursed Lauren and Andrew as he ran away in humiliation. Francesca doubled over with laughter. "Lauren, you're absolutely rut
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Without waiting for Andrew's input, the two women eagerly ordered drinks. The restaurant manager approached with a respectful smile to make suggestions. "Ms. Rhodes, Ms. Aicker, for refined young ladies like yourselves, I'd recommend our premium wine selection," the manager suggested smoothly. "It's gentle on the throat and won't leave you feeling unwell." Lauren scoffed at his recommendation. "Who do you think we are? Bring us your best vodka!" Francesca slapped the table in agreement, adding, "Exactly! Wine tastes like fancy water. We want the strong stuff!" The manager turned helplessly to Andrew, clearly impressed that this mysterious man had earned the company of two of Jayrodale's most prominent heiresses. Andrew simply smiled and said, "Let them have whatever they want. Their happiness is what matters." By the end of the meal, they had barely touched the food but had emptied two bottles of premium vodka. Andrew was amazed at Lauren and Francesca's tolerance. The al
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After some thought, Andrew called the manager to arrange for designated drivers to take both ladies home. The manager stared at him in shock and disbelief. "Have them driven home? Sir, what are you thinking?" Andrew was confused. "What do you mean? They're both drunk. Of course, I have to get them home." The manager continued with exasperation, "You absolutely cannot send these young ladies home. Don't you understand?" He added, "Two beautiful women getting drunk in front of you—surely you know what that means! This is your golden opportunity! I can't believe you'd let such a perfect moment slip away!" Andrew was speechless as he watched the manager get more worked up than he was about the situation. "I have to admit, your charm is impressive," the manager said enviously. "Do you realize who these heiresses are in Jayrodale? Most people can't even get close to either of them, let alone have both interested in them!" "Forget the designated drivers—let me call you a cab,"
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"What's your problem?" Simon demanded angrily. "Move aside. I'll take Fran to her room myself," Andrew replied coldly. Simon barely contained his rage as he insisted, "Just hand her over. As her senior apprentice, I'm the most qualified to look after her!" "Actually, I was going to let you take her," Andrew said mockingly. "But now I don't trust you, so I'd better do it myself." Simon's constant jealousy and hostility had worn Andrew's patience thin. Though fuming, Simon had no choice but to step aside and let Andrew carry Francesca to her room. After making sure she was settled safely, Andrew stepped out. "Now you can get lost!" Simon spat. Andrew gave him a cold look and replied, "Stop deluding yourself, Simon. Fran has no feelings for you." He strode away, leaving Simon red-faced with anger. The front door slammed behind Andrew as he reached the street to call a cab back to the Moonlit Sanctuary. However, Simon's predatory glances toward Francesca kept nagging at
Last Updated : 2024-12-23
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Natasha trembled but stood her ground. "Andrew, I know I'm no match for you, but I'm not someone to be trifled with either. You at least owe me some compensation." "What do you want?" Andrew asked with an amused smile. "I'm not greedy—just give me some of that medicine," Natasha said, her eyes lighting up as she held out her hand. Andrew chuckled and tossed her a small vial. "You say you're not greedy, yet you ask for something money can't buy." Natasha's face lit up with delight as she examined the vial's contents. "Well, at least you have some conscience," she said, carefully tucking it away. Her eyes roamed over Andrew's form as her cheeks flushed. "I have one last request. If you agree, then I'll be yours forever." "Let's hear it," Andrew said with a laugh, "but I'm warning you—nothing excessive!" Natasha stepped closer until she was nearly pressed against him and whispered, "Andrew, I want to be your woman. I've never submitted to many men, but you're different. Take
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"Has West End lost all its pride?" Conan demanded. Natasha waved her hand dismissively and gritted her teeth. "Everyone out—I can't blame anyone when I'm simply outmatched. I underestimated him, and even if you all attacked together, you'd just be throwing your lives away." Conan and the other two men reluctantly withdrew, but this time, he remained stationed right outside the door. He wanted to be ready to rush in if Natasha needed help, though he knew they stood no chance against someone who could defeat her. "I admit now that you surpass me in both combat skills and intelligence," Natasha said blankly. "You even have mysterious connections with Marvin and Mark. I can't beat you, Andrew, so do what you will with me." For the first time, Natasha felt utterly defeated. She had never underestimated Andrew, but she had clearly misjudged him completely. She had admired him and wanted him to work for West End, believing her status, charm, and fighting prowess would be enough to t
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Natasha's bedroom was in complete disarray. She lay on the floor, drenched in sweat with disheveled hair and blood at the corner of her mouth, her face ghostly pale. Her half-open eyes glared at Andrew with intense hatred, while he sat casually on the couch, sipping his tea as if nothing had happened. Unlike Natasha's battered state, not a single thread on Andrew's clothing was out of place. "Wait, so you two weren't… you were actually fighting?" the bearded enforcer asked in disbelief. Another West End thug added in shock, "How is it possible that Madam is injured?" To them, Natasha had always been an invincible fighter, yet now she lay helpless on the floor, thoroughly defeated by Andrew. Conan shot an angry glare at the bearded enforcer and his companion. "Weren't you just saying how much fun she was having? Stop standing there like idiots and help her up!" The two men rushed forward to assist Natasha, but she impatiently pushed them away. "Get out! All of you get out!
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Andrew's fingers struck with precision, targeting pressure points that sent waves of intense pain through Natasha's body. "Darling, no! Please, stop! I was wrong—I'm sorry! I can't take it anymore. It hurts so much!" "Ahhh! Stop it, please stop! Don't do this anymore!" Natasha cried out, her voice switching between desperate wails and hysterical laughter as the unbearable pain pushed her to the brink. The excruciating pain caused Natasha to writhe on the floor. She crashed into the couch and coffee table, making loud thudding noises that echoed through the room. … In the hallway outside, several heads peeked around the corner, intently watching Natasha's door. Conan led the group, his weathered face twisted with concern as he whispered, "Something doesn't sound right about this." One of the West End enforcers chuckled. "Come on, can't you tell? Madam is just having a good time!" Another man with a scruffy beard joined in with a knowing chuckle. "Exactly! Madam Vostoko
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Andrew remained seated on the couch, his expression unchanged, as he raised his leg to intercept Natasha's attack. "You won't even stand up? Fine! If you're going to disrespect me like this, I'll have to teach you a lesson!" Natasha's chest heaved with anger. Her combat abilities surpassed Dylan's, and she was just a hair's breadth away from matching Atlas. Yet, this arrogant young man would not even bother to get up from his seat to face her attack, which felt like a direct insult to her pride. She transformed her claw-like strikes into palm strikes, alternating blows aimed at Andrew's chest. Without even looking, the latter countered with two palm strikes of his own, and their hands collided with two dull thuds. Natasha felt an overwhelming force transmitted through Andrew's hands, causing her to stumble backward. Meanwhile, Andrew remained as steady as a mountain on the couch, even taking a moment to pick up his teacup for a casual sip. He commented, "I'm surprised that a
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With frustration written across her face, Natasha gritted her teeth. She had decided it was better not to show off her strategies in front of Andrew anymore, wanting to avoid further embarrassment. Andrew ignored her visible discomfort and said calmly, "I want you to understand that anything gained through deception and betrayal will eventually become too hot to handle and turn to dust. That's the lesson history has taught us time and time again." Natasha scoffed. "Fine, I can't argue with you. But you have to admit that two-thirds or more of Jayrodale's underworld is now under my control. Either you and Dylan submit to my authority, or you'll face death!" Andrew shook his head and replied, "You're seeing things through rose-colored glasses. While Dylan might not be able to handle you, I can take you down with a single move. That's another lesson I want to teach you today—that in the face of absolute power, no amount of schemes or clever tricks will work." Natasha paused, then
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After her initial shock, Natasha's face flushed with embarrassment and anger, refusing to back down as she questioned him. "Alright, you call yourself a master physician. Then let me ask you this—why did I still get injured in my fight with Atlas after taking the Blood Surge Pill? And now you're accusing me of faking it?" Andrew's lips curled into a mocking smile as he replied, "Is that so hard to figure out? The moment you got back, you took a high-quality healing pill. Judging by your complexion, it must've been a top-tier Vitality Pill. These pills can quickly replenish energy and restore blood, bringing you back from weakness in no time." "Well, am I wrong?" Andrew's tone was dripping with sarcasm as he stared at Natasha. Natasha fell silent for a long moment before clapping her hands, a rosy blush spreading across her face—there was not a hint of weakness left in her demeanor. "No wonder Dylan swears unwavering loyalty to you. Even I have to admit defeat before you, darlin
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"At this point, West End can't even send out a proper representative," Andrew stated emotionlessly. "Since you're treating me like I don't exist, I'll kill you first, then have a chat with Natasha." "Mr. Lloyd, please don't go too far!" a voice suddenly thundered from behind. "Conan, done watching the show from your hiding spot?" Andrew smirked as he released his grip and kicked the tattooed giant toward Conan. Conan's face twitched. He knew the tattooed giant was one of Natasha's most fearless fighters, young and skilled in hand-to-hand combat, yet Andrew had broken him so effortlessly. "Please follow me, Mr. Lloyd. Madam Vostokoff will see you now," Conan said coldly. Andrew sneered. "Oh, now she's willing to meet after this show of force?" "Mr. Lloyd, West End has already absorbed Atlas's territory," Conan stated angrily. "If you were smart, you wouldn't have come here." "So, if I hadn't shown up, Natasha would just take everything herself?" Andrew's face remained expr
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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
