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Chapter_223
Kai had gone all in. The question now was—would Duncan follow suit, or was he already looking for an exit?
Duncan let out a sigh and shook his head with a hint of self-deprecation. “Mr. Lane, I’m not like you. My grandfather holds a tight leash on the family funds. I only get about five to seven hundred thousand a month for pocket money—that barely covers my daily expenses. The money I invested with Kai before? I had to borrow that from my uncles.”
His tone was filled with frustration, but it wasn’t an excuse. It was the truth.
Simon lit a cigarette in silence. He understood the inner workings of the Duerson family all too well.
The Duersons were a sprawling clan, the patriarch surrounded by numerous sons and even more grandsons. Most of them were overseas, forging their own paths. Only Duncan remained in the country, navigating the treacherous waters of high society alone. Sure, he could scrape together a few million in a pinch—but three hundred million? That was a mountain far too steep.
Simon exhaled a trail of smoke, feigning regret. “That’s a shame. Looks like we’ll only manage to take down Bianca for now. Still, it’s enough to keep Nash and Hera rattled for a while.”
Before he could continue, Kai’s voice cut through the moment—quiet, but laced with fury.
“I’ll cover Duncan’s share.”
His eyes burned red, the edges of his restraint fraying.
Duncan waved his hand, alarmed. “You don’t need to do that, Kai. I—”
“I’m giving it to you,” Kai interrupted sharply. “You don’t have to pay it back.”
Duncan blinked. “So… you’re covering the three hundred million for me?”
“No,” Kai said with cold clarity. “I’m gifting you the three hundred million—and then you can hand it to Simon.”
Even in his fury, Kai retained his composure. There was a difference between lending and gifting. He wanted no ties, no debts—only swift, decisive action.
Faced with no alternative and caught in Kai’s directness, Duncan finally nodded.
The deal was sealed without further discussion.
Kai stood up. “We’ve done our part. I won’t be involved from here on. Make sure you finish what we started.”
Simon slapped his chest with pride. “Don’t worry, Mr. Kai. If I can’t bring Nash down, I’ll offer you my head.”
The three men clinked glasses one last time.
—
At the Zabel mansion, on the second floor, a heavy silence hung over the room as Nash and Brian worked to treat Skadi’s injuries.
Her condition was severe—far worse than they had hoped. Without hesitation, Nash reached for the Divine Needles.
Brian stood nearby, assisting silently. His eyes were sharp, observing every movement, learning the delicate art passed down by his grandmaster.
Downstairs, the atmosphere was equally grim.
Hera sat on the sofa, her eyes swollen and red from hours of crying. Lauren remained close, gently comforting her daughter in low murmurs.
In the corner, Justin sat alone, chain-smoking. The ashtray beside him overflowed with cigarette butts—each one a mark of helplessness.
On another couch, Harrison leaned toward Zakariah, voice calm but reassuring. “Don’t lose heart, Mr. Zabel. Nash’s medical skills are unparalleled. If he says Skadi can recover, then she will.”
Zakariah’s aged face was stained with tears, his deep wrinkles accentuated by sorrow. Harrison’s words offered little comfort, but he nodded, grateful nonetheless.
Just then, a slurred, mocking voice echoed through the air.
“Arrogant, yet lacking true wisdom. Moralistic, yet blind to reality. Pretending to be noble with no virtue to back it up—it’s pathetic.”
Everyone turned toward the entrance.
Kristian staggered in, half a bottle of liquor clutched in his hand. His eyes glimmered with disdain and defiance.
Zakariah shot up, his voice shaking with fury. “Who let you in? Get out!”
Kristian smirked. “Uncle Zabel, tell me—what good is your so-called martial virtue now?”
Zakariah’s voice rose in a roar. “Didn’t you hear me? Get out! Someone throw him out!”
He trembled with rage, veins bulging at his temples.
A few young disciples exchanged uneasy glances, but no one moved.
Kristian wasn’t just anyone—he was the eldest disciple of the Hero Martial Arts School and the only great-grandmaster within its ranks. His strength even rivaled the headmaster’s. No one dared confront him head-on.
Kristian laughed darkly, eyes scanning the room.
“We practice martial arts not just to strengthen our bodies, but to protect our families. Sometimes, virtue isn’t enough. Before you extend kindness, you need to know who stands before you. What’s the point of preaching morality to a beast—or worse, a brick wall?”
His words sliced through the room, landing like daggers in the hearts of those present.
And no one had a response.