"Mr. Lloyd, is that a sacred relic in your hand?" Elsie gasped in disbelief. Andrew casually tossed it to her and said, "Have your Radiant Group experts verify it—that should clear things up right away." Elsie immediately took the pearl for authentication. Orion felt uneasy but still scoffed, "A sacred relic? Kid, you've got some nerves. Do you even know how precious these artifacts are?" "Of course I do," Andrew replied coolly. "When ancient spiritual masters passed away and were cremated, these relics remained. Scientifically speaking, they're just crystallized remains—but in the antiquities world, every authentic relic is priceless. I'm sure the experts here understand what I mean." Many nodded in agreement with Andrew's words. Indeed, any genuine sacred relic was one-of-a-kind, and while it might not have any special physical properties, its cultural and historical significance made it an absolute treasure in collectors' eyes. Seeing Orion's confidence falter, Aspen qui
Andrew shook his head. "I'm no master—I just know a thing or two." Elsie could no longer take Andrew's modesty at face value. Earlier, she had confidently shown off her antique knowledge while guiding Andrew and Francesca through the collection, but now she felt embarrassed. It was like teaching calculus to a math professor. While some celebrated, others brooded. Orion's face had turned dark as he reached out his hand and demanded, "I don't trust these worthless Jayrodale experts. Give it to me—I need to examine it myself." "Dream on, Orion," Cedric pulled back protectively. Andrew intervened calmly, "Let him see it. Let's put his doubts to rest." Cedric reluctantly handed over the relic. Orion turned it over in his palm, examining it from every angle until his face went ashen gray, an uncontrollable glint of greed flickering in his eyes. "According to the auction rules, whoever authenticates a piece gets to keep it," Andrew said. "Mr. Kelce, you've handled it enough, and i
Under everyone's watchful eyes, Orion's assistant brought two identical porcelain bowls forward. They were pristine white with delicate blue patterns adorning their surfaces. Elsie's expression turned serious as she warned, "Mr. Lloyd, in authentication, the toughest challenge is the twin test." "What's the twin test?" Andrew asked, which made Elsie sigh helplessly. She could not understand how Andrew seemed to know nothing, yet had spotted that sacred relic earlier. She quickly explained, "The twin test is an authentication term. It refers to two identical pieces—one authentic and one fake—that are so similar, they're impossible to tell apart with the naked eye. These two bowls, for instance, appear identical. Usually, we'd rely on professional knowledge, experience, touch sensitivity, and specialized equipment—but the competition rules prohibit using tools, so you'll need another approach." Orion extended his hand with a smirk. "You have five minutes to identify the authen
Orion's assistant mocked, "This kid knows nothing about antiques, and as for experience. Hell, he's barely old enough to drive! Just kneel before Mr. Kelce and admit you're wrong, kid. That's how youngsters like you should behave." "These jerks are going too far," Francesca grumbled. Andrew picked up both porcelain bowls, one in each hand, and asked with a smile, "Ms. Santana, these bowls are competition property, right?" Elsie nodded, puzzled by his question. "Yes, Mr. Lloyd. Competition rules state that all antiques and items must be from registered dealers." "Then I'd like to ask the owner of these bowls to step forward," Andrew announced loudly. Orion laughed coldly. "Do you really think the owner would tell you which is real? Stop playing games and just admit you don't know anything." "Patience. You'll be crying soon enough," Andrew replied with a smirk. The bowls owner, an elderly man in a burgundy suit with kind eyes, stepped forward and said politely, "Young man,
The crowd exchanged bewildered glances. They could not understand why Andrew had wasted time asking such obvious questions about the bowls' value. "Are you done wasting time? Can you tell which is real now?" Orion asked impatiently. Without answering, Andrew casually tossed the bowl in his left hand into the air. Aspen shouted angrily, "Andrew, what are you doing? Can you afford to replace a million-dollar piece?" Before she finished speaking, the bowl crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces. The spectators stared in disbelief, wondering if the pressure had made him lose his mind. Elsie was overwhelmed and could only manage to stutter, "Mr. Lloyd, you—" "If it were real, I'd have to pay for it, right?" Andrew asked calmly. "Well, that's obvious," Elsie replied, distressed. Andrew let out a relieved sigh. "Good thing I broke the fake one." The crowd was stunned. Some whispered about Andrew's unorthodox authentication method, while others bet he was just bluffing
"Andrew, Mr. Kelce is a master appraiser. You're getting too cocky challenging him," Aspen taunted. "Let's leave, Andrew. We shouldn't play with these shameless people," Francesca urged. However, Andrew patted her shoulder with a smile. "Don't worry, Fran. I'm definitely making this old man get on his knees today." Andrew raised the remaining bowl high. "Everyone, please witness this! If I can authenticate this bowl, Orion has to kneel and beg me, isn't that right?" The crowd cheered encouragingly. Someone shouted, "Exactly!" "Good luck, kid! We're rooting for you!" "Even if you misidentify the last bowl, you won't lose, because Orion's previous appraisal also ended in failure." "Yes, it's a draw at best. You're already impressive to have tied with Orion, handsome boy." Orion fumed. "Kid, no matter how lucky you get, you'll never figure out if this last bowl is real or fake."' Andrew studied the remaining bowl thoughtfully. Suddenly, he made a motion as if to smash
When Andrew approached Orion, the latter thought he was ready to give up. Orion said smugly, "Kid, it's time to learn your lesson." Andrew simply replied, "I know whether it's real or fake. Get ready to kneel before me," Orion retorted, "Then prove it. Is it real or fake? Announce it." "Andrew, it's real! This old fox is playing mind games. He wants you to overthink it!" The experts in the crowd agreed. They had faced Orion before and knew his tricky methods. Since the fake was already revealed, they reasoned, this had to be authentic. However, Andrew suddenly smashed the second bowl to pieces. The crowd stood frozen in shock, wondering how he could destroy what might have been a million-dollar piece. "You fell for Orion's trap," Elsie muttered in dismay. Francesca was extremely disappointed. If she had known, she would have tried to dissuade Andrew. Cedric grumbled, "Orion, you're so cruel." Aspen emerged from the crowd, smirking. "Andrew, reaching a tie with Mr. Kel
In stark contrast, Orion, Aspen, and his followers stood there, furious yet helpless. Meanwhile, Christina stared at Andrew in disbelief. She wondered if he really emerged victorious again. Orion was furious and growled, "How did you know they were fakes? What tricks did you use?" Francesca scoffed. "What a loser—he can't even accept his defeat graciously!" Andrew shrugged. "Does it matter how I knew? What matters is I was right about both bowls, which means you lost. Time to kneel before me." The crowd was shocked by Andrew's unexpected victory. His triumph brought pride to Jayrodale's antique community, and they relished seeing the arrogant Orion get his comeuppance. "You're always talking about rules, Orion," Cedric beamed, finally getting his revenge. "Well, a bet's a bet—kneel!" "Exactly, Mr. Kelce! Are you going back on your words now?" "Mr. Kelce, this is Jayrodale, not Bridgefields. I told you to be less arrogant, but you didn't listen. Now you're being punis
Suddenly, Ollie, who had been attacking fiercely, started panting and made a tactical retreat. The Madblade student's face broke into a mocking smile as he taunted, "What's wrong? Tired already?" The student changed his footwork pattern, rhythmically advancing toward Ollie before launching a series of quick, vicious strikes at his face. Ollie was startled and tried to defend with all his might, but his footwork became unstable and chaotic. Seizing the opportunity, the Madblade student whipped out a devastating leg sweep that connected with Ollie's thigh. As Ollie groaned in pain and lost his balance, his opponent showed no mercy and delivered a lightning-fast kick to his groin. There was a sickening crack that made even Andrew wince. Ollie's face drained of all color as he rolled around the ring, screaming in agony. The Rhodes family bodyguards stood speechless, completely caught off guard. Ollie had not only lost but had been brutally defeated—his groin likely shattered. "Ro
Andrew shook his head and warned, "Jerry, you're being too arrogant. "From what I can see, the head of Madblade Martial Academy doesn't even need to step in—that martial arts expert next to Rodney alone is enough to give you serious trouble." Jerry sneered. "What do you know about fighting levels? Do you think you can see something I can't? Young man, don't mistake ignorance for courage—it's truly foolish!" Ollie Keoghan, who had just been called up, mocked, "Andrew, why do you always have to run your mouth when you're around Ms. Rhodes? Jerry could probably take you down with just one finger." "Ollie is right—this guy's a nobody who talks too much," another guard chimed in. "Since we're having three matches, let's win the first two to secure victory. Then, we can let this punk go up for the last round and get beaten to a pulp by Madblade's fighters. Jerry's bodyguards all shot hostile looks at Andrew, joining in the criticism. Andrew just shook his head, noting how Jerry'
Rodney declared, "If my side loses, then you'll get their 60 million, handed over without question. But if you lose, I don't want anything else except…" At this point, Rodney suddenly stopped, his eyes gleaming with lust as he licked his lips in an incredibly vulgar manner. Behind him, his martial arts students joined in with sleazy snickers. Lauren felt goosebumps all over her body. She asked with disgust, "What do you want?" Rodney smiled. "Don't worry, my request isn't too outrageous. I just want your stockings, Lauren. And specifically, the ones you're wearing right now—I want them while they're still warm!" Then, he burst into laughter. Lauren's face turned slightly pale, clearly suppressing both rage and humiliation. She controlled her emotions well, though, and turned to look at Jerry. "Don't worry, Miss. I can defeat these petty thugs with one hand tied behind my back," Jerry said coldly. Lauren turned to Andrew, blushing slightly. "Dr. Lloyd, my stockings are on
Rodney's lips curled into a mocking smile. He sneered, "Mr. Keoghan, you've got quite the attitude, showing off in front of my Madblade Martial Academy. What do you think this is, some kindergarten playground?" Jerry, being a renowned senior grandmaster for many years, carried himself with natural authority. "Mr. Sanford, if it were your father, Vince Sanford, I would show him proper respect. But you're still too young and inexperienced, so I advise you not to make any foolish decisions." Jerry continued, "Just hand over Dean and let Ms. Rhodes deal with him. If you do that, we can put this whole incident behind us." Lauren gave a cold smile and turned to Andrew. "Don't worry, Dr. Lloyd. Jerry is one of the top fighters in the Rhodes family. If Rodney wants to play rough, we're more than happy to oblige!" Andrew's expression showed traces of doubt. Jerry's power as a senior grandmaster was indeed undeniable. Even if he had only recently reached that level, it was still enough t
Rodney's words made the skilled fighters behind him burst into raucous laughter. The students stopped their practice to stare at Lauren with strange expressions. "Rodney, I told you years ago that I wasn't interested in you," Lauren said calmly, showing no sign of anger. "Your persistent pursuit might be romantic to some, but even if you offered me the entire Madblade Martial Academy, I wouldn't give you a second glance." Rodney's face darkened immediately. He had tried to embarrass Lauren, but her sharp tongue had turned the tables on him instead. A hulking man beside Rodney sneered, "Ms. Rhodes, if you're going to reject Mr. Sanford, why are you even here?" "For our money," Lauren replied curtly. Dean scoffed. "Atlas owed Rhodes Corporation money, not me. If you want it, go ask him in hell." Lauren smirked. "Atlas may be dead, but not all Northern District's people are gone. I know you cleaned out Atlas's accounts. Dean, are you really going to pretend you don't owe us?"
Inside Madblade Martial Academy, hundreds of students were practicing martial arts with loud shouts. They barely glanced at Lauren and Andrew's group before turning away, displaying obvious arrogance and dismissal. Lauren was unfazed by their attitude. She explained, "The students here are all from Jayrodale's wealthy families. Most of them are spoiled rich kids who couldn't succeed academically, so their families sent them here to learn martial arts. Over time, they've developed quite a superiority complex." Andrew did not mind. After all, it was natural for martial artists to have some attitude. Whether it was looking down on others or being arrogant, this kind of temperament came with this lifestyle. As long as they were not all talk and had no skill, he could tolerate their pride. A young man in casual clothes approached them with a smile, his pale complexion suggesting a life of extravagance. He was flanked by about four clearly skilled martial artists. As he passed the
Jake could not help but marvel at how a single conversation had completely changed his fate. His head was still spinning from the series of surprises. "Ms. Rhodes, should we head to Madblade Martial Academy now?" Andrew suggested. Lauren smirked playfully. "Dr. Lloyd, Natasha seemed quite different around you. Did something happen between you two?" Andrew shook his head. "She's West End's leader, a widow. What could possibly happen between us?" Lauren said suspiciously, "I don't believe you. The way she looked at you was exactly like a lonely woman gazing at her lover." Women's intuition was truly frightening. First Francesca, and now Lauren was just as perceptive. Andrew started the car and decided there was no point in hiding it. "Natasha wanted to be with me, but I turned her down because it didn't feel right." Instead of getting jealous or upset as Andrew expected, Lauren became excited. "Really? Natasha offered herself to you? That widow sure moves fast!" Andrew's
Natasha chimed in and explained, "Dean Mayer was Atlas's senior apprentice from the same martial arts school and Northern District's second-in-command. He was known as 'Iron Palm'. However, his skills never matched Atlas', which is why Atlas always held the position of Northern District's leader." Andrew asked, "So you're saying most of Atlas' assets and personnel fell into Dean's hands?" Natasha shook her head. "In terms of manpower, Dean only took about seven elite fighters with him. However, he did make off with the majority of Northern District's wealth—Atlas' years of accumulated fortune." "Natasha, do you know where Dean is now?" Andrew frowned. "As my people previously informed Mr. Lloyd, some of Atlas' forces have regrouped," Natasha said gravely. "Dean is their leader, and they've aligned themselves with the Madblade Martial Academy." Andrew was shocked. "Madblade Martial Academy? You mean the place that calls itself Jayrodale's premier martial arts institution?"
"I'm here at Northern District's headquarters. One of your men is here, and I'm planning to get him promoted," Andrew spoke into the phone. "Of course, I'll be there in five minutes. Wait for me," Natasha replied urgently. As Andrew hung up, Jake shook his head. "Sir, this act isn't funny anymore. Don't tell me you actually have Madam Vostokoff's number?" "Of course I do," Andrew replied simply. "How else could I call her?" Jake did not bother responding and headed downstairs to hand out flyers, hoping to sell the abandoned building soon and get his promotion. He dismissed the supposed lunatic upstairs, remembering how he had only seen Natasha once since joining West End. Regular people never got close to someone of Natasha's status, let alone have her private number—unless this guy was her boy toy, he thought cynically. Minutes later, a convertible sports car screeched to a halt in front of the building. Jake, clutching a stack of flyers, stared in disbelief at the beauti