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Chapter_224
Kristian took a long, burning swig from the liquor bottle, his jaw clenched in fury.
Zakariah had no retort.
Because deep down—he knew Kristian was right.
That slap… being thrown out of the Zabel household in front of everyone… it still festered like an open wound in Kristian’s chest. But it wasn’t just about humiliation. It was about truth.
Zakariah’s pride had led to this moment.
In the martial world, decorum demanded restraint in competitions. Rules dictated that the fight stop at a certain point. But Zakariah, too proud to admit the Ihara Martial Arts School had broken protocol during the first match, had let it slide—for the sake of reputation.
And that choice had cost him.
Skadi wouldn’t be lying injured upstairs if he had intervened. If he hadn’t allowed his pride to dictate the outcome, she never would’ve entered the second match. Never would’ve suffered so gravely.
Zakariah sat in silent regret, weighed down by his conscience.
At that moment, footsteps echoed from the staircase.
All eyes turned toward Nash and Brian as they descended. Hera stood up instantly, her voice trembling with hope and fear.
“Nash… how’s Skadi?”
Nash offered a faint but reassuring smile. “She’s no longer in danger, but her recovery will take time.”
Relief flooded Hera’s eyes. She nearly buckled from the release of tension.
Nash turned to Brian, speaking with quiet authority. “Follow the prescription I gave you. Boil the herbs on high for thirty minutes. Then add the turtle shells and let it simmer on low heat for another hour before drinking.”
Brian held the paper tightly, nodding. “Understood. I’ll get started right away.”
Nash then walked to Hera, gently wiping away the tears on her cheeks. “Give me Bianca’s number.”
She didn’t question him, only reached for her phone and handed over the contact.
Nash dialed.
The call connected, but it wasn’t Bianca who answered. A man’s voice came through—soft, lilting, vaguely effeminate.
“Bianca is training. She doesn’t have time to answer calls.”
“Is she at Neo Power Club?” Nash asked, his tone calm but ice-edged.
The man on the line paused, puzzled. The caller ID showed a woman’s name, yet a man was speaking.
“Who are you?”
“Answer my question,” Nash said coldly.
The man snorted. “Well, aren’t you arrogant, little guy? I’m not telling you. Come over and hit me if you’ve got the guts.”
His mocking laughter cut through the phone before the line went dead.
Nash hung up, face hardening. Without a word, he grabbed Hera’s car keys and walked out the door.
So fast that Zakariah didn’t even have time to say thank you.
—
Neo Power Club was nestled in the heart of downtown Jonford, spanning the top floors of an eighteen-story commercial tower.
Inside, it was packed with state-of-the-art gym equipment. Heavy punching bags hung from the ceiling. The centerpiece was a large octagon cage.
Within it, Bianca—clad in a sleek boxing outfit—traded blows with a tall, muscular sparring partner.
His attention, however, wasn’t entirely on the fight. His gaze kept drifting to the contours of Bianca’s toned body.
Bianca noticed.
Her punches accelerated.
The final strike landed squarely on the man’s nose with a sickening crunch.
“Argh—!” he howled, clutching his face in agony.
Bianca peeled off her gloves and threw them at him. “Look again and don’t bother showing up next time!”
She stepped out of the cage, where a red-haired woman chewing gum handed her a bottle of water.
“Bianca,” she said casually. “Some guy was asking for you earlier.”
Just then, a man in women’s boxing gear and light makeup chimed in, his voice unnaturally high-pitched. “Yeah, he called you. Said his name was Hera or something—”
Before he could finish, he let out a sharp yelp.
His ear had been twisted by someone who’d appeared out of nowhere.
“Who the hell are you?!” he shrieked.
A second later, a sharp smack rang out.
He hit the floor, reeling from the blow.
Nash stood over him, gaze cold. “Didn’t you say I could come and hit you?”
The effeminate man, recognizing the voice, scrambled back and began to wail. “Help! He’s attacking me! Bianca, teach him a lesson!”
Bianca turned—and her frosty expression melted slightly.
“Coach Calcraft… so it is you,” she said, a rare smile tugging at her lips.
Nash gave a curt nod. “About that boxing challenge this afternoon…”