Chapter 62
Inside the luxurious villa’s living room, a skinny middle-aged man sat calmly on the sofa. His short grey hair framed a face adorned with thick stubble, and his eyes, though cloudy, held a fierce intensity.
As Nash stepped into the room, the man slowly opened his eyes, locking gazes with him. The moment their eyes met, Nash felt as though he were standing before a god. There was an overwhelming aura about this man—a confident, domineering presence that made Nash feel small, as though his very existence was insignificant in comparison.
This was the Warden, the leader of millions of soldiers in the Northern Territory. Nash, on the other hand, was just a Grim Reaper operating in the shadows. Despite his own lethal abilities, he knew he was far from matching the Warden in terms of raw power and influence.
Nash clasped his hands together respectfully. “Greetings, Warden.”
The Warden smiled gently. “There’s no need for formalities. Please, sit.”
Nash nodded and sat down beside him on the sofa. Zakariah and the others, however, did not dare to take a seat. The Warden noticed this and waved his hand dismissively. “You lot can sit as well. Treat me like an ordinary person; there’s no need for so many rules.”
Reluctantly, they all settled down.
Just then, Grant put down his phone, his expression turning serious. “Warden, Harold brought two strong martial artists.”
The Warden’s face darkened slightly. He turned to Stellar. “Didn’t I say inviting one person was enough?”
Stellar bowed in apology. “Warden, the Watson family doesn’t care about money. They were the ones who insisted on paying for the Smiling Grim Reaper’s protection.”
The Warden sighed helplessly. “Send them in, then.”
Stellar nodded and turned to Grant. Without delay, Grant walked out, soon returning with Harold and his two bodyguards.
Harold clenched his fists in irritation. “Warden, why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Jonford? How is the Zell household better than mine?”
Grant pursed his lips and retorted, “Mr. Watson, how dare you? How could my house be inferior to yours?”
Just because the Watsons owned a villa in Royal Bay didn’t mean the Zells lacked luxury. For the Warden’s safety, Grant had refused to let him stay in Royal Bay, instead offering the villa he had used for his own retirement. The property was worth $28 million, as luxurious as the Watsons’ place.
Stellar muttered, “Stop arguing…”
Both Harold and Grant immediately fell silent.
Stellar’s attention shifted to the two martial artists Harold had brought. He frowned, sizing them up. “Are these two reliable?”
Harold nodded confidently. “Absolutely! These two are top-tier. This is George Yancy, known for his Iron Kick. His legs are a masterpiece. He broke his own legs from obsessively practicing martial arts, but Thomas King outfitted him with a pair of iron legs that significantly boosted his power. One kick from him could take down an elephant!”
Stellar raised an eyebrow, impressed. George clasped his fists and spoke with excitement. “Greetings, Warden! It’s an honor to protect you.”
The Warden smiled and nodded. “Impressive. Killing an elephant with one kick—truly remarkable!”
George trembled with excitement at the Warden’s praise. “Thank you, Warden! I will not disappoint!”
Harold grinned as he introduced the second bodyguard. “This is Janson Gyane, the deputy sect master of the Bagua Division and a master of Bagua Zhang. His strength is comparable to a level-eight grandmaster.”
Janson, humble and respectful, clasped his fists. “Greetings, Warden!”
The Warden’s eyes gleamed with appreciation. “A level-eight grandmaster? That’s not easy to come by, even in the Northern Territory!”
Zakariah, always keen to acknowledge strength, nodded in approval. “People like that are invaluable. They’re the strong soldiers guarding the country!”
Janson bowed respectfully. “Don’t worry, Warden. We will protect you every step of the way.”
The Warden smiled, his easy-going demeanor continuing to reassure everyone. With his trusted bodyguards in place, the stage was set for whatever came next.