chapter 11 Kneel aside

Plop, plop! The remaining few all fell to their knees, unable to muster even an ounce of resistance. They knew deep down that the other party possessed such terrifying power that killing them would be as easy as pie. Trembling, the disciples of the Randy Sect, some of them cowardly, even emitted a whiff of urine in fear. "Please... spare us, don't kill us, we're from the Randy Sect." Clarence looked down indifferently at the few survivors. "Bacchus, where is he now?" The survivors were already trembling, quickly pointing to the innermost door and saying, "Mr... Mr. Randy is in his room, discussing matters with Master... Master York." "Oh? The alarms outside have already gone off, yet they're sitting so comfortably inside." The survivors shook their heads, saying with difficulty, "Mr. Randy's office is soundproofed. Even if there's a loud noise outside, it can't be heard inside. These alarms go directly to the security department. They'll report it immediately upon hearing the alarm, and the police will be here soon." Clarence had already anticipated this, which is why he had mobilized the Hidden Dragon Guard. No one was getting into the Nyse Building today. Meanwhile, in Bacchus's office. Bacchus sat across from an old man. This elderly man, aged sixty or seventy, with white eyebrows and a beard, wore a long robe that exuded an air of transcendence. "Mr. Randy, you needn't worry. With the Randy Sect behind you, no one would dare lay a finger on you." "Today, I've brought fifteen elite disciples. With me here, even the most authoritative figures in the country wouldn't dare touch you." The Randy Sect had branches in various provinces and cities, and since the return of overseas Randy Sect disciples to Cathay, it had been rapidly expanding. Mr. York was an Elder of the Randy Sect in Zensea, highly respected and often helped to smooth over troubles, earning him the respect of the upper echelons of Zensea. Bacchus donated at least fifty million to the Randy Sect every year in exchange for their protection. Bacchus's reputation, straddling both sides of the law, was not just for show. "With Master York's assurance, I can rest assured. Don't worry, Mr. York. If this matter can be resolved, I'm willing to provide the Randy Sect with free access to two floors of the Nyse Building for ten years. The Randy Sect can open a martial arts academy here." Mr. York nodded in satisfaction, indicating his acceptance. However, at that moment, there was a loud bang. The office door was suddenly kicked open, and the heavy door fell to the ground. Both men turned to look in the direction of the door, equally astonished. This kick sent the steel-reinforced security door flying. What kind of strength was this? Several seconds later, Bacchus became furious. "You idiots, how dare you barge in here? Who are you people? How dare you cause trouble here!" It wasn't surprising that he was angry. Someone had intruded, and yet the people outside didn't react at all? What a bunch of useless people! As the dust settled, Clarence, Decco, and Maxine appeared before them. Clarence went straight to Bacchus and placed a document on the table, saying coldly, "Sign it." Bacchus glanced at the document, and his eyebrows furrowed as soon as he read it. An unconditional transfer of equity contract? What kind of joke was this? This guy wanted all of Bacchus's equity? He'd seen arrogance before, but never like this. Without warning, barging into his office and demanding his entire net worth? Was there no sense of reason left? "I think you're asking for trouble!" Bacchus growled. "Not signing? Fine, Maxine, bring it out." At Maxine's cue, she produced the recording of Dexter from that night and pressed play. And that wasn't all; she tossed a stack of documents onto Bacchus's face. Bacchus flipped through them. "Randy's Group bribes 5 million..." The documents contained records of all the shady dealings he'd engaged in over the years. And the evidence was irrefutable, leaving no room for argument. "Are you... are you threatening me?" Bacchus seethed with rage and disbelief. Clarence responded coolly, "We're not threatening you, just giving you a reason to die." Bacchus looked at Clarence's icy face and felt a twinge of familiarity, but couldn't quite place where he'd seen it before. He turned around, his expression changing, "Mr. York, would you look at this..." Only then did Mr. York slowly rise from the sofa, saying, "Enough, I'll handle this." He nodded toward Decco, who had just kicked down the door. "This guy's a hulk; it's no surprise he knocked out the guards and our Randy Sect disciples outside." Mr. York's words were calm but carried a weighty presence. Bacchus breathed a sigh of relief, now watching coldly. With Mr. York involved this matter was as good as resolved. He had witnessed Mr. York break a wooden dummy with a single punch; this blockhead, despite his strength, was no match for Mr. York. Mr. York approached the group and looked at Clarence, saying, "Brother, I'm Oakes from the Randy Sect. I don't know what misunderstanding you have with Mr. Randy, but why not give me a face and sit down to talk it out?" Clarence did sit down, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a slow drag. Just as Mr. York felt victorious, Clarence spoke up, "Give you face? Who are you?" Expecting respect after revealing his identity, Mr. York was visibly taken aback by Clarence's indifference. Well, even I, Oakes, have days when I'm underestimated. "Kid, this big guy by your side is your only reliance. If I take care of him, you'll have no bargaining power." Decco glanced at Mr. York curiously, as if looking at a fool. He turned to Clarence and said, "Seems like you're being underestimated." Clarence spoke slowly, "Bacchus, this old trash can't stop me. Come over here, sign, and wait for your death." Old trash? Mr. York's face shifted between shades of green and white, and the others couldn't help but smirk. "What a bold kid; you're dead to me!" As the words fell, the temperature in the office seemed to drop. The heir of the Randy Sect, Mr. York, was furious. His figure darted out like a ghost, bypassing Decco, and heading straight for Clarence. Decco looked at the old man with pity. Facing him, there was still a way out; facing Dragonhead, it was a dead end. Clarence stood up slowly, taking a step forward, and at the same time, his whole demeanor surged. His eyes suddenly gleamed, as if containing lightning, while his spine straightened like a drawn bowstring. Swift as a landslide, fierce as thunder! Mr. York's breath suddenly hitched, and the air in his chest seemed impossible to muster. He was unexpectedly suppressed by the other's momentum! As their gazes met, it felt like being pricked by needles, almost making him scream in pain. After all, Clarence had climbed out of countless mountains of corpses and seas of blood over the years, stepping on who knows how many bones. Clarence infused his spirit into his eyes, which gleamed like lightning. "You..." Mr. York was startled to find that his hands and feet were trembling uncontrollably. Just standing there, Clarence felt like an immovable mountain. After a tense moment, Mr. York was so frightened that he lost the courage to strike. "Kneel aside and await your fate," Clarence said disdainfully.