Chapter 128: Chapter 128 - Earned Respect
Scarface sprawled motionless on the ground, his eyes forever sealed shut. The blood-soaked hole in his chest created a chilling sight against his pale skin.
I stood before his lifeless body without a trace of sympathy. Somehow, I’d stopped feeling fear a while back—couldn’t even pinpoint when that happened.
Bending down, I searched Scarface’s body thoroughly. My fingers closed around exactly what I was looking for—a Hundred-Year Medicine King herb hidden in his clothing.
"Seems he wasn’t lying to me after all," I muttered, examining the precious herb.
I shifted my attention to Scarface’s follower and flashed a dangerous grin. "Planning to avenge him?"
The man startled, eyes widening with disbelief. "You’re... you’re actually letting me go?"
"Mr. Raymond, we absolutely cannot release him!" Marshall Clive shouted from behind me, his voice urgent and strained. "If he escapes, he’ll definitely return seeking revenge!"
I assessed the trembling follower, then waved dismissively. "I won’t kill you. As for revenge... I’ll be waiting whenever you’re ready."
The truth was, I didn’t want to eliminate a potential source of rare herbs.
The follower hesitated briefly before bolting toward a broken window and disappearing into the night.
"Cough, cough." Apollo Leah struggled to his feet, somehow maintaining his self-important air as he swaggered toward me.
"Mason, how could you let him escape? What if he returns to make trouble for us?" Apollo barked, acting as though he’d been the one calling the shots all along.
I narrowed my eyes, unable to suppress a sneer. "If not for me, you’d be a corpse right now."
"So what? You’re still at fault for letting him go!" Apollo accused loudly, then eyed the herb in my hand. "How about this: leave that herb with me as compensation for your mistake."
I couldn’t help but marvel at his shamelessness. I’d encountered brazen people before, but Apollo set a new standard.
"You want this?" I asked, dangling the herb before him.
Apollo coughed dryly, putting on an air of magnanimity. "Given your apologetic attitude, I’ll forgive you this time."
With that, he reached for the herb in my hand.
His expression transformed instantly. His hand hadn’t even touched the herb when I seized his wrist in a vise-like grip.
"You think you can just take it? You’re the type who doesn’t appreciate favors and disrespects those who help you, aren’t you?" I said coldly.
Panic flashed across Apollo’s face. "Mason, I’m your elder! What do you think you’re doing?"
"Elder? You’re not worthy of the title!" I swung my free hand, delivering a powerful slap across his face.
Apollo’s body flew backward, slamming against the wall with enough force to create spiderweb cracks. Blood spurted from his mouth as he collapsed.
"Ungrateful bastard," I stated coldly, watching him crumple.
Silence engulfed the private room. No one dared challenge my actions.
"Mr. Clive," Apollo wheezed, struggling to look at Marshall, "this kid actually dared to raise a hand against me..."
Marshall Clive merely sneered. "Apollo, get out. From today forward, you’re no longer affiliated with the Clive family."
Apollo’s face contorted with disbelief, seemingly unable to process that these words came from Marshall’s mouth—the same man who had shown him nothing but courtesy until now.
"Mr. Clive, Apollo has served the Clive family loyally for years. It seems harsh to dismiss him like this," someone interjected.
"Yes, Mr. Clive, if he leaves, we won’t stay either," another added.
Marshall laughed coldly at their protests. "Fine. You can all leave. From this moment, none of you have any connection to my Clive family."
Their faces registered shock.
"Mr. Clive, I... I was only joking," one attempted to backtrack.
But Marshall’s disappointment was absolute. He wouldn’t offer second chances.
"Mr. Raymond, shall we go?" Marshall turned to me respectfully.
I nodded, and we exited the private room together.
Once inside the car, Marshall sighed heavily. "Mr. Raymond, my previous disrespect was inexcusable. Starting today, the Clive family will honor you as our most esteemed guest."
"Just send me the money," I waved dismissively.
"Don’t worry. I’ll have someone deliver the contract tomorrow," Marshall assured quickly.
The car swiftly transported me back to my hotel. After tonight’s events, my confidence in my abilities had grown significantly.
"The Foundation Establishment Stage truly deserves its reputation," I reflected silently.
In martial arts terms, this stage would equate to Inner Strength Masters at most, yet I had overwhelmed so-called Inner Strength Greatmasters with relative ease. Spiritual power clearly operated on an entirely different level from Inner Strength.
The following morning, I decided against returning immediately to River City, preferring to wait for Marshall to deliver the contract.
I turned to Victor Green. "Help me purchase a car. Having our own transportation would be convenient."
Victor looked surprised. "What kind of vehicle did you have in mind?"
"I don’t know much about cars. Use your judgment," I replied.
"Any specific requirements?" Victor pressed.
After considering briefly, I said, "Something fast but understated."
The other details didn’t matter much. I was on my own now, after all.
"Understood," Victor nodded, taking my bank card before departing.
About an hour later, the thunderous roar of an engine drew my attention downstairs.
When I reached the hotel entrance, a sleek black Audi waited in the driveway.
"Audi RS7—fast performance with a subtle appearance," Victor explained with a smile.
I examined the vehicle closely. It certainly looked inconspicuous enough.
"What was the cost?" I asked casually.
Victor grinned. "2.1 million total."
That caught me off guard—the car’s price wasn’t evident from its appearance.
I took it for a test drive afterward and found it performed excellently.
That evening, Victor and I located a restaurant for dinner. While eating, I casually browsed news headlines on my phone.
One particular story caught my eye: "Overseas fugitive Luis Keira killed in South City yesterday."
Opening the article, I discovered that Luis Keira was actually Scarface. The report praised a "mysterious hero" extensively but revealed nothing about my identity.
"News travels remarkably fast," I muttered, shaking my head.
After finishing our meal, we prepared to return to the hotel.
Just then, my phone rang unexpectedly.
Checking the screen, I saw an unknown number.
"Hello?" I answered cautiously.
"This is Valerie Stanley, Violet Damon’s classmate. Do you remember me?" a young woman’s voice responded.
I frowned slightly. "What do you want?"
