Chapter 203 Chapter202-Break His Hand (1st update, Cheer me with Power Stones!)
Hearing the John's voice and witnessing his actions, Eric finally realized the truth.
The seemingly unremarkable young man who had just walked in was Emma's actual boyfriend.
This realization only intensified the rage boiling inside Eric.
The man's attire looked like cheap street-market buys, giving no indication of wealth.
Yet, Emma chose him over Eric... It was the ultimate insult.
In his blind fury, Eric missed the implications of John's words.
But Nicholas was keenly aware.
He had received a call from Benjamin Taylor earlier, instructing him to fulfill any of John's requests unconditionally.
Over time, Benjamin Taylor had relayed to Nicholas bits and pieces about John's significance.
Nicholas always wondered why a top player in a game would be so valued by Benjamin in real life.
However, he had always unconditionally trusted the chairman's orders.
Over the years, the chairman had never been wrong.
If he valued John so much, there had to be a reason. Nicholas, having faced dangers and threats before, knew beneath John's ordinary exterior lay immense power.
With a sinister smirk, Nicholas motioned with his hand, and a group of burly men in suits instantly poured into the room.
Within moments, they had control of the entire space.
Seeing the bald, middle-aged man leading the group, a beacon of hope seemed to shine for Eric.
Overwhelmed with relief, he desperately cried out, "Scarface! Thank God you're here! These two stormed in and attacked without provocation. Arrest them!"
The scar that marred the bald man's face twitched, resembling the pain of a toothache.
'This idiot,' he thought, 'can't he read the room? Can't he see I've been sent in to clean up?'
The man Eric referred to as "Scarface" appeared to ignore him, standing guard at the door like a statue.
The menacing aura emanating from these suit-clad brutes paralyzed everyone present.
Eric's young cohorts, just naive college students, were even more immobilized.
Despite having been with Eric for a while, they were leagues away from these experienced enforcers.
The rest of the attendees, unaccustomed to such confrontations, cowered in the corners, shivering with fear.
They had never seen anything like this before.
Their uniform black suits were reminiscent of mobsters straight out of a film.
Some of the sharper students slowly tried to inch towards the exit, only to be forced back by the menacing glares from the enforcers.
The realization dawned on everyone.
When John mentioned "clearing the room", he didn't mean expelling everyone.
He meant taking control of the room itself.
Many were paralyzed with fear, collapsing onto the floor, while the girls looked particularly distressed.
Eric finally grasped the gravity of the situation.
It wasn't unfolding as he had envisioned.
He turned to Scarface, shouting, "Scarface, what's going on? It's me, Eric! Timothy King's son. Don't you recognize me?"
Scarface's patience seemed to wear thin.
He shot Eric a lethal glare, looking as if he'd love to rip the young man's mouth apart right then and there.
Nicholas, amused, glanced over at Scarface. "You know him?"
Scarface hurriedly responded, "Not really. He's the son of a guest we've had here. Met him a few times."
Noting Nicholas' continued silence, Scarface quickly added, "You might know of his father – Timothy King, the chairman of Prosperity Group."
Nicholas's brow furrowed slightly.
Timothy King's son?
Although he hadn't interacted much with Timothy King, he was aware that the Prosperity Group had collaborated with his own Taylor Group on several occasions.
But after a brief moment of contemplation, Nicholas dismissed the thought.
While Prosperity Group might rank in the city's top ten, it was incomparable to the business behemoth that was the Taylor Group.
In terms of scale, it was probably akin to Christopher Martin's Ocean Entertainment, who had created a scene at a previous family banquet.
Nicholas knew where to set his priorities.
Judging from Chairman Benjamin Taylor's attitude, even if Timothy King himself had a disagreement with John, the chairman would undoubtedly side with John.
And here, it was merely Timothy King's son causing the ruckus.
Nicholas turned to John, his face morphing into a pleasant smile. "Mr. Foster, how would you like us to proceed to ensure your satisfaction?"
Pouring himself a drink, John took a delicate sip.
Lifting his gaze to meet Eric's, he asked with an icy detachment, "You're Eric? You're the one who splashed Emma?"
Eric, hand covering his face, stood motionless and dazed, completely lost as to what was unfolding before him.
Ever since these two walked in, nothing had gone according to his expectations. Without warning, he had received a slap, and Scarface, who should have been on his side, seemed completely indifferent to him.
Hearing John's voice, Eric shivered violently. With a contorted face, he glared at John, "Yes, that was me. What are you going to do about it?"
John took the napkin handed to him by Fiona and gently dabbed at the wine spilled on Emma.
He nonchalantly ordered, "Grab him and pin him to the table."
Casting a soft smile towards Fiona, it was clear John recognized her as Smirk, the one who had interviewed him in the game.
At Nicholas's gesture, two burly enforcers approached with sinister grins, seizing Eric's arms.
Meanwhile, Scarface thoughtfully cleared the table, leaving behind only the wine glass in front of John.
"Let me go! Stop it! What are you doing? Release me!"
Eric yelled in terror, his body squirming in futile resistance.
Unfortunately for him, he was just an ordinary student, and years of indulgence had left him physically debilitated.
How could he compete with seasoned brawlers?
The two burly men handled Eric as if he were a mere chick, pressing him firmly against the table.
To add insult to injury, one of them forcefully pushed Eric's head down, ensuring his face was in intimate contact with the cold table surface.
Still struggling, Eric's eyes radiated pure fear.
As his body slipped from his control, the haze of alcohol receded from Eric's mind, and his previous air of arrogant bravado evaporated completely.
He finally grasped the gravity of the situation.
Emma's mysterious boyfriend was far from the insignificant nobody he had imagined.
Instead, he was a powerful figure shrouded in enigma.
"Let go of me! You're breaking the law! My father is Timothy King, the Chairman of Prosperity Group. If you dare harm me... he won't let you get away with it!"
In this desperate moment, Eric clung to his father's reputation, hoping it might intimidate the crowd.
Though he wasn't sure about the identities of Nicholas and John, the deference Scarface showed them spoke volumes.
Scarface, after all, was the head of security here and arguably the most influential person on this floor.
In some respects, he might even be considered the de facto manager of the club.
He had never shown such respect even to Eric's father, Timothy King.
Who were these men?
Confusion and panic overwhelmed Eric.
Consumed by fear, he began to tremble uncontrollably.
John lifted his gaze, asking calmly, "Which hand did he use?"
Despite his predicament, Eric continued to struggle and roar, "Let me go, you damned bastards! Is this how you treat a customer? The customer is always right; you should be ensuring my safety! How dare you lay a hand on me? Release me now!"
John shifted his gaze to Fiona.
Perhaps it was the iciness in his eyes, devoid of any emotion, that made her flinch slightly backward.
In a quivering voice, she replied, "It was his right hand."
John nodded slowly, stating deliberately, "Then break his right hand..."
The room fell into hushed silence.
All the students kept their mouths shut, their eyes wide with terror as they watched John.
Whatever his true identity was, it was clear he wasn't someone ordinary students like them could ever dare to provoke.
Several of the girls were clearly shaken, their eyes darting every so often to Emma cradled in John's arms, their gazes tinged with an unmistakable hint of envy...
Eric strained to lift his head, his face a mask of disbelief.
"You... how dare you? Do you even hear what I'm saying? My father is Timothy King, the Chairman of Prosperity Group... He won't let you get away with this..."
John seemingly paid him no mind, continuing to softly soothe Emma's frazzled nerves.
Since John's arrival, it was as if she'd found her anchor.
In the gentle cadence of his words, her emotions slowly settled.
Nestled in John's embrace, her face radiated contentment.
Upon hearing John's instruction to break Eric's right hand, Emma cautiously looked up, her voice soft, "John, maybe we shouldn't. I don't want you to get into trouble because of me..."
John chuckled lightly, giving her head a gentle tousle.
"Hush now, just trust my judgment. There's nothing to worry about."
Emma tightened her embrace around John's waist, immersing herself within the solace of his arms.
Her still-quivering form made John's gaze even more icy.
Clearly, she hadn't fully recovered from the earlier shock...
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