"Finley and Atlas can't be trusted," Dylan warned. "If you believe their lies, once they destroy South City, West End won't be spared either." "Oh? What makes you say that?" Natasha asked with a smile. "Are you suggesting Northern District plans to take over West End as well?" Before Dylan could respond, Atlas cut in, "Dylan's just a brute—don't take his words seriously. Northern District and West End have always maintained peaceful relations, and even if we wanted your territory, we wouldn't have the strength after dealing with South City. That would be suicide!" "Mr. Giordano is right," Finley added smoothly. "In fact, West End stands to gain the most from this. The only reason we're pursuing this vendetta against South City is because Dylan treacherously killed Mr. Giordano's lieutenant. Such a betrayal demands justice." Their coordinated pitch seemed to sway Natasha, while her lieutenants behind her nodded approvingly. "Madam, we should stay neutral and let them fight it
"How dare you insult Madam Vostokoff! Are you asking for death?" West End's enforcers erupted in anger. "In all these years, no one has ever dared to disrespect our leader on our turf!" Over the years, many have experienced Natasha's ruthless cunning firsthand. For this young upstart to openly mock her intelligence right to her face—he must have been tired of living. Atlas and Finley could barely contain their joy at this turn of events. "Dylan, is this your way of making South City perish faster?" Finley taunted, fanning himself with a smirk. He added, "Andrew, I know you're trying to get Madam Vostokoff's attention, but this thorny rose is far beyond your reach. Now, you'll probably leave here in pieces!" "Mr. Garner, he's your man," Natasha snapped. "For old times' sake, I'll give you one chance to explain what he means. Otherwise, none of you will leave West End's headquarters alive." "Madam Vostokoff, Mr. Lloyd can be quite direct, but let me explain—" Dylan began
He leaned forward, his voice biting as he said, "Answer me this: Atlas promised you a 50-50 split of the territory once he takes down South City. Did you seriously believe that just because he said it?" Natasha's glare intensified, but before she could respond, Andrew continued. "Second, Jayrodale has three major underground organizations, with Atlas and Northern District being the strongest. Surely, you know this much. And now, with Finley and the Hidden Dragons backing him, Atlas is more powerful than ever. After he crushes South City, do you really think he won't turn around and wipe out West End next?" Natasha scoffed, though there was hesitation in her voice. "Do you seriously think I don't understand the dynamics of Jayrodale better than you? After taking South City, Atlas will be weakened. How could he possibly come after me?" Andrew shook his head, smirking. "Calling you stupid is honestly being too kind. As I said, Atlas has the Hidden Dragons and the ambitious Finley by
Natasha's expression darkened as a chill ran down her spine. Though Andrew's words were harsh, they struck with undeniable truth—she had almost fallen into Atlas and Finley's trap. "I understand why you were so eager to fall for their scheme," Andrew continued calmly. "You wanted South City eliminated so you could grab a piece of the pie. Your ambition isn't small, Madam Vostokoff—West End wants to dominate too." "Unfortunately, greed often exposes one's weaknesses," Andrew added with mock concern. "As a woman in this business, you should be more careful playing games with cunning men like Atlas." His patronizing tone made Natasha grind her teeth. While it was her first time being lectured by such a young man, she could not deny the truth in his words. She did have ambitions and had been swayed by Atlas's promises. "Mr. Giordano, Mr. Moore, please leave. You're no longer welcome in West End," Natasha ordered through clenched teeth. "Madam Vostokoff, you can't actually belie
In the West End district, Andrew and Dylan received a grand welcome from Natasha. "Mr. Lloyd, I never expected you to make such bold moves. You even managed to shock someone like me," Dylan admitted, still in awe of Andrew's earlier actions and words. Dylan could not shake off the memory of how Andrew had brazenly called Natasha an airhead and lectured her to read more books as if she were just one of his men. He found it incredible that Andrew dared to act this way on someone else's turf, surrounded by their elite fighters. What bewildered Dylan even more was that Natasha did not get angry after being scolded. Instead, she switched sides, driving Atlas and Finley away while graciously hosting him and Andrew. As one of Jayrodale's crime lords, Dylan had never felt this triumphant. "I'm not as remarkable as you suggest," Andrew said calmly. "She simply came to her senses and realized she couldn't let Northern District become too powerful, and once I pointed that out, Atlas and
"Then dealing with the remaining side would be effortless since they'd be standing alone," Andrew concluded. Dylan nodded in agreement. "Mr. Lloyd's absolutely right. We could see Atlas's intentions from his all-out attack on South City—he wanted to eliminate obstacles quickly. Unfortunately for him, Griffin got taken out by Mr. Lloyd, which forced him to abort his plans." "You killed Griffin, Mr. Lloyd?" Natasha asked in shock, studying Andrew up and down with undisguised curiosity. This pretty boy had impressive guts and eloquence, and his intelligence was extraordinary, but Dylan was suggesting he had also taken down Griffin, Atlas' right-hand man. Could he be exceptional in combat as well? "Taking him down was pure luck, nothing worth making a fuss about," Andrew replied calmly. Natasha batted her eyes, smiling seductively. "Don't be so modest, Mr. Lloyd. Even if it was luck, you're still a true hero. I've been a widow for so long, and I've never met such a capable you
Faced with the eager gazes of the two crime lords, Andrew simply smiled and stopped talking, picking up his tea instead. Dylan caught on quickly and slapped his forehead. He said, "Mr. Lloyd has already helped us so much with both his wisdom and courage, while Madam Vostokoff and I have been doing nothing!" Turning to Natasha, he added, "Madam Vostokoff, Mr. Lloyd's assistance comes with certain conditions." "As it should," Natasha nodded. She no longer dared to underestimate Andrew, knowing that capable people always had their own terms. Deliberately pulling down her neckline to reveal more cleavage, Natasha smiled flirtatiously at Andrew. "Mr. Lloyd, you're a young man in your prime. Usually, men want either money or women. I wonder if my beauty catches your eye. If you're interested, I'd be willing to warm your bed tonight." Dylan watched with envy. Natasha was a stunning widow with both power and influence. When he saw Natasha offering herself to Andrew, he could not h
"Not to mention, Atlas has many other skilled fighters under his command," Natasha added. Andrew's eyes gleamed as he replied, "That's why a direct confrontation with Northern District won't work—you need to play it smart. History shows that even the most impenetrable walls aren't broken from the outside, but rather crumble from within." "Mr. Lloyd, are you suggesting we target Northern District's internal personnel?" Dylan asked with furrowed brows. Andrew smiled. "More specifically, you need to target the relationship between Atlas and Finley. They're the two pillars of the Northern District—together, you can't beat them. But if they turn against each other and start fighting among themselves, wouldn't that be your opportunity?" Natasha pouted. "Mr. Lloyd, sowing discord between them might sound simple, but it's impossible. Atlas relies heavily on Finley, and though Finley is arrogant, he respects Atlas. Getting them to turn against each other won't be easy!" "Of course, yo
Logan was stunned. He rushed forward in shock. "Father, you're awake?" George forced a small smile. "Not only am I awake, but I've never felt this clear-headed before. It even feels like my martial cultivation just had a breakthrough!" The crowd of expert doctors, including Chantelle and Mosby, was frozen in place, completely dumbfounded. No one could utter a single word, as they were too stunned to react. Andrew gestured for Logan to help George onto the couch, smiling as he said, "Mr. Keller Senior, the energy corruption has already been cleared from your system. Now you'll just need some medication to aid your recovery, and your body should return to normal. "However, your vitality and spiritual energy were badly depleted—it'll take a few months to fully recover." George looked at Andrew with genuine admiration. He asked Logan to help him sit up, then turned solemnly and said, "I'm already grateful just to be alive. But to come out of this without losing an ounce of my life
Mosby explained, "But undoubtedly, his mind must be utterly exhausted and his spirit completely drained! Whether or not he wakes up will be the real challenge. If he doesn't regain consciousness, he'll become nothing more than a hollow shell." As he spoke, he cast a deliberately sinister glance at Andrew. If George remained in a vegetative state, then Andrew would not just be blamed—he would probably be executed on the spot by the Keller family. Yet right then, Logan turned to Andrew with genuine sincerity and said, "Andrew, all of us in the Keller family saw what you did for my father. Don't worry—even if he doesn't wake up, you'll still be honored as a benefactor of our family." Mosby could not believe what he was hearing. "Mr. Keller, how can you say that? If Mr. Keller Senior doesn't wake up, Andrew should be held accountable for a grievous crime!" Logan, however, had already seen through Mosby's jealousy and hostility toward Andrew. He responded calmly, "Mr. Lake, this is
Andrew ignored all the shouting around him without batting an eye. Once everything he requested had been brought in, he began the treatment without delay. "Mr. Keller Senior, brace yourself for some pain," he warned calmly. With that, he slowly inserted golden needles into the top of George's head. Chantelle's voice turned serious. "Andrew, the head is the most delicate part of the human body. It's where the nerves are most complex—what you're doing could have serious consequences." Andrew replied evenly, "Mr. Keller Senior's condition stems from a mental collapse, and the mind resides in the thoughts—the thoughts in the brain. So, treatment has to start there." As he explained, his hands moved with precision. Soon, the crown of George's head, right in GV20, was covered in golden needles. Then, he pressed two acupoints on George's chest with careful control. A flicker of relief finally appeared on George's agonized face. Logan asked cautiously, "Andrew, why did you target
Mosby said, "I already drained most of the old man's strength with Ms. Garcia! And now you're just waiting on the sidelines to swoop in when it's safe. Don't you think that's rather shameless?" Andrew said flatly, "Judging others by your own petty standards—that's exactly the kind of person you are, Dr. Lake. If you're so upset about it, how about I release Mr. Keller Senior and let you try your luck? Let's see how easy that 'swooping in' really is." Mosby's expression instantly changed. He fell silent, visibly shaken by the idea. He still remembered almost getting killed by George just moments ago, and there was no way he wanted to flirt with death again. Andrew sneered, "Coward." Mosby snapped, "You insolent brat! How dare you insult me?!" Andrew could not be bothered to respond. He had no personal vendetta against the man, but after being provoked repeatedly, he was not going to sit there and take it either. "Logan, get Mr. Keller Senior into the room. I'm ready to begin
Logan shouted, his voice cracking, "Dr. Lake, get out of the way!" Mosby forced himself to stay conscious, pried his eyes open, and immediately saw death rushing at him. He screamed, "Mr. Keller Senior, please—spare me!" However, George had already charged in, eyes blood-red, and a brutal hand chop was aimed straight for Mosby's skull. If that blow landed, the so-called legend of Blumedale would die right here, with his head cracked open. Chantelle gritted her teeth and moved in without hesitation. Her long leg, clad in sleek, tailored slacks, swept out in a horizontal arc. George stumbled back two steps, let out a low, guttural growl, and immediately lunged at her instead. Logan shouted from the side, trying to talk his father down, yet it was useless. George had fully descended into a killing trance. "Dr. Lake, get clear!" Chantelle barked as she spun forward. Her pale, graceful hand landed squarely on George's shoulder, and with a sharp twist, she executed a perfect shoul
Logan instinctively stepped forward, panicked, ready to intervene. However, Andrew stopped him. "No rush. Mr. Keller Senior needs to burn off some of that energy first. That way, it'll be easier for me to treat him afterward." Logan's voice trembled. "Dr. Lloyd, my father is not going to get hurt, right?" Andrew smirked. "Relax. Mr. Keller Senior will be fine. If anyone's in danger, it's probably Dr. Lake." Mosby and George had already gone head-to-head in combat. However, George looked completely possessed, growling like a wild beast, clearly stripped of rationality. His physical strength was nothing short of monstrous. Every vase, table, and piece of furniture in the room that stood in his way was shattered to dust under his fists. He held nothing back. Chantelle's eyes widened. "That strength… Has Mr. Keller Senior reached martial king level?" Logan sighed, conflicted. "That was originally a tightly guarded secret of the Keller family. No outsiders were supposed to know.
Andrew waved a hand dismissively. "I don't have time to explain everything to you, and even if I did, you wouldn't understand it anyway. You just need to know this—if you want to save your father, then do exactly what I tell you to." Logan looked uncertain and shot a quick glance at Chantelle as if to ask, "Who is this guy you brought along, and what's with the ego?" Chantelle's face darkened. "Mr. Keller, this man is Andrew Lloyd—he came at Mr. McCormick's recommendation. But honestly, you don't have to take him seriously. Just carry on with your own plans—ignore him." However, Logan shook his head and turned toward Andrew. "Dr. Lloyd, go ahead. Tell me what you need. As long as it'll help my father, I'll make it happen." His respectful tone stunned Chantelle. She wondered if Logan was out of his mind for believing Andrew just like that. Andrew smiled. "My request is actually pretty simple. If I'm going to treat your father, I expect to be compensated. So, I want access to al
Chantelle could not lash out, so she gritted her teeth and quickly followed behind. Inwardly, she made a mental note to report this arrogant clown to Derek later. To her, Andrew was reckless, so full of hot air, and completely unworthy of trust—nothing but a showboating jester. … Inside the main hall of the Keller residence, the place was packed with people coming and going. A group of specialists and renowned doctors stood gathered, their brows furrowed as they exchanged anxious whispers. One commented, "Mr. Keller Senior's condition is strange—truly bizarre!" "Exactly. His entire face is paralyzed. Even his tongue won't move. He can't swallow even a spoonful of medicine!" Another chimed in, "And the worst part? No one can get within three feet of him. The second anyone tries, they get attacked—some left with cracked skulls, others… well, some didn't make it." "Jeez! That serious? Who would dare try to treat him now? No matter how much the Keller family is offering, it's no
Chantelle was behind the wheel while Andrew rode along in the passenger seat as they headed out to treat Derek's old friend, George Keller. The atmosphere inside the car was tense, with Chantelle's resting expression as frosty and detached as ever, her face practically carved from ice. Andrew was not the kind of guy to throw warmth at a wall of cold, so he simply stayed quiet, staring out the window at the passing streets. After holding back for a while, Chantelle finally could not resist and let out a mocking laugh. "Mr. Lloyd, what a clever move—create your own mess, then try to get Mr. McCormick to step in and clean it up for you. Don't you think you're playing with fire?" Andrew smiled. "Playing with fire? Nah, I don't see it that way. At this point, I'm pretty much one of Mr. McCormick's trusted men. So if the little guy's getting targeted, doesn't it make perfect sense for the boss to step in and fix it?" Chantelle was momentarily stunned before letting out a scoff. "An