"What?" White Dragon King's lips trembled as the words nearly slipped from his mouth—the King of Horizon. But before he could speak, a wave of terrifying energy pierced through him, forcing his body to tremble.
It was John's gaze.
A gaze that carried with it the heavy weight of an oppressive force, as if it had the power to devour his very soul. White Dragon King struggled to breathe, and his face drained of color.
Was this the aura of the Oracle King?
His mind raced, trying to process the situation.
Seeing White Dragon King frozen in place, Guy Porter, the restaurant owner, frowned in confusion and asked, "What's wrong?"
Still, White Dragon King remained silent. He stood there, frozen, as though caught in a trance.
John's interruption had been calculated. It was clear that he had no intention of revealing his true identity, and White Dragon King understood this unspoken message. After a long, charged silence, he finally spoke with a complicated expression, "Mr. Porter, for some reason, I won't be interfering today. You'd better resolve this matter yourselves."
Guy's frustration grew. "White Dragon King, don't forget we have a deal. Are you going to throw your reputation out the window like that? If you act this way, who will want to work with you in the future?"
As soon as the words left Guy's mouth, he felt an icy chill creeping down his spine.
White Dragon King locked eyes with him, his gaze dark and murderous. "Who gave you the courage to speak to me like that?" His voice was cold and menacing.
Guy's face paled, the words choking in his throat. He suddenly realized just how precarious his situation was. In this partnership, it was the Porter family that had sought out White Dragon King. And while White Dragon King had earned enough wealth in his lifetime to last several generations, money was no longer his primary motivator. The reason he cooperated with these families was simple—money.
But even that was secondary now. If he offended the King of Horizon, no amount of wealth would be worth it.
Seeing White Dragon King's hostility intensify, Guy realized that his earlier outburst had been a grave mistake. He had spoken out of turn, and now he feared the consequences.
White Dragon King's cold voice cut through the air. "Guy Porter, I advise you not to meddle in matters that do not concern you, or you will suffer a great loss for a small gain, and regret the day you were born."
With those words, White Dragon King cast one last glance at John. There was a subtle, yet clear, respect in his eyes, though he made no move to show it. He nodded slightly, then turned to leave.
As he walked away, Guy stood there, completely stunned. He couldn't understand the full meaning of White Dragon King's words, but they gnawed at him. Why had White Dragon King been so reluctant to engage? And what did he mean by "suffer a great loss for a small gain"?
Guy had heard of Tony's temper and connections, but the sheer weight of White Dragon King's words made him wonder if John was more than just another influential figure.
Meanwhile, the restaurant manager leaned in to whisper to Guy, "Boss, that man, John, he's Master Bertha's man."
Master Bertha's man? Guy froze.
Master Bertha, the powerful Valkyrie, was no mere figurehead. His connections were vast, and his influence stretched far and wide. If John was indeed under Bertha's command, then his backer would not be the Flaherty family, but something much more formidable. Was White Dragon King's warning a veiled message to Guy?
Guy began to put the pieces together. Perhaps John's arrogance wasn't derived from some powerful backer—perhaps it came from himself.
As these thoughts swirled in his head, he began to feel a sense of unease. His perspective shifted. He wasn't dealing with just a hot-headed young man; this was someone who carried an undeniable weight of authority and power.
Guy, now visibly shaken, decided to take a different approach. He turned to face Tony and John. "Mr. Lopez, Mr. Will," he said, his tone softer, more conciliatory, "Perhaps we don't need to escalate this further. If there are conflicts, we can sit down and resolve them peacefully."
Tony, seething with rage, exploded at Guy's suggestion. "What?!" He spat, "Is this what you call a solution? After all this? You think I'll just let these two walk away?"
Tony had never been so humiliated. His pride, his status—everything had been assaulted in one afternoon. He wanted blood. He wanted revenge.
Guy's forehead broke out in cold sweat as he realized the situation was spiraling out of control. He had never been so out of his depth before.
But then, John spoke up, his voice calm and measured. "Mr. Will, it was me and Jacob who beat you. Why are you taking it out on the restaurant owner?"
Tony froze. His eyes narrowed as he glared at John.
John continued, unphased, "You've gotten used to throwing your weight around, but now you're facing someone more powerful, and you've lost your outlet for anger. Tell me, where does that leave you?"
Guy couldn't help but feel relief. This man, John, is incredibly reasonable.
Tony, on the other hand, was filled with fury. "A more powerful man?" he sneered. "You'll soon learn what it means to cross me! This will be your last mistake!"
With that, Tony fumbled for his phone, ready to call in reinforcements. John, however, was unfazed. He simply smiled and said, "Mr. Will, I have a suggestion for you. I heard you have a brother, Bruce Will, who used to be a genius at Houston Martial Arts School. Why don't you call him here? Let me pick his brain. What do you think?"
The tension in the room thickened. Guy, standing off to the side, felt as though he were watching a deadly game unfold before his eyes. He had no idea how this would end, but it was clear that whatever happened next, it would have far-reaching consequences.
4o mini