In the past, John wouldn't have spared clowns like this Wilson a second glance.
But this time, things were different. This time, he had an idea—a much more thrilling one.
"Why did you say Wilson came at the right time? Are you actually going to teach him a lesson?" Jacob asked, eyes wide with excitement.
"Of course," John replied, a smirk curling on his lips. "But not just any lesson. We're going to make it absolutely sensational."
"You're awesome!" Jacob practically bounced in place. "Can I watch?"
"Ask your sister."
"Come on, John…" Jacob started with a pitiful expression.
"Shut up and get back to university. And stop coming to the Long Family like it's your backyard—you're not one of them."
"Alright, alright," Jacob mumbled, shoulders sagging as he obediently turned to leave. Although he was only slightly younger than John, he didn't dare disobey him.
Once Jacob had left, John's eyes glinted with a hint of mischief. He pulled out a specially encrypted phone and made a quick call, speaking in a low voice.
Moments later, the ripple effect began.
News spread like wildfire, and international forces stirred—publicly and covertly.
Because Oracle King had accepted the challenge.
He would meet Wilson on the designated island, exactly as proposed. What's more, he welcomed media coverage from all nations. It would be the first time Oracle King's battle would be broadcast live across the globe.
Excitement erupted like a volcano.
People all over the world were ecstatic. And yet, at the same time, they mourned Wilson's fate.
There had been others like him—arrogant fools who challenged Oracle King in desperate bids for recognition. Most were ignored. But this time, Oracle King had responded.
It was like watching a street performer demand a duel with a world champion—and the champion actually stepping into the ring.
Wilson was done for.
Surely, Oracle King had grown tired of the nonsense and was about to make an example of this man.
But what happened next left everyone stunned.
Instead of retreating in fear, Wilson doubled down. His public response was as bold as it was insane:
"I'm waiting for you—to die!"
The entire world reeled.
What the hell?
Wilson had just made history as the first person to speak to Oracle King in such a defiant tone since his rise to fame.
The audacity was almost admirable.
Now the public's anticipation was at a boiling point. Everyone wanted to know—was Wilson truly that strong? Had he really reached the so-called soul realm? Could he possibly pose a real threat to the undefeated Oracle King?
If Wilson wasn't immediately annihilated… he'd become world-famous.
Meanwhile, as every major force on the planet held its breath, one of the central figures of this drama—John, the Oracle King himself—was fully immersed in a critical task.
He was eating.
Devouring his food like a man possessed.
This scene did not align with the legendary image that surrounded his name. Even the waiter couldn't help but laugh.
"Bro, slow down. Want me to bring a basin instead of a plate?"
Without missing a beat, John shoved the waiter down into a chair. "Eat with me, then."
The waiter panicked. "Thanks, but if my boss sees me, he'll cut my pay!"
John waved him off, letting him escape. From the side, Bertha was laughing uncontrollably.
It was clear to her that John had fully moved past the previous emotional turmoil. He was back to being the cheeky, confident, and charismatic young man she adored.
After a few minutes, Bertha leaned forward and asked, "John… do you think that Wilson guy really reached the soul realm?"
She had clearly seen the news as well.
John didn't even blink. "I don't care if he did or not. Titles are just labels. I'll slice off his head either way."
"You're right," she said with a bright smile, admiration gleaming in her eyes.
To have such a powerful young man stand by her side—it was a privilege beyond words.
The soul realm was a recognized stage of power for martial artists. Just like the title of King of Horizon, it carried weight and fear. But foreigners didn't understand the difference. They didn't know that Oracle King operated on an entirely different level.
Compared to real cultivators, the so-called soul realm was nothing more than the Foundation Establishment stage.
John recalled something Perry Moreno had once told him—among all known cultivators in the modern world, the highest confirmed stage was the Golden Crystal Period, though no such cultivator had appeared for a long time.
He considered his own strength.
Yep—no need to worry.
He was invincible.
A walking calamity.
Wilson wouldn't be a problem. He'd deal with him quickly—before the guy became too annoying.
"It's time to intimidate those people again," John muttered. "Just like that mutant last time. I bet Wilson's another product of Britain's failed genetic experiments. If he really reached the soul realm, then it's probably just genetic modification."
John gave a dry laugh and returned to his meal.
Then—"Waiter, bill please!"
The voice that rang out from the nearby counter froze John in place.
His eyes twitched.
He jerked his head toward the sound—and there he was.
Draped in flashy clothes with a massive gold chain and a watch the size of a clock, stood a walking caricature of wealth. A parvenu vulgarian, flaunting his riches like a child with new toys.
He had two women clinging to his arms, their laughter echoing through the restaurant.
John shot to his feet.
"Bertha," he said, tone serious. "You should head back to the Central US Martial Arts League. You've been delayed long enough."
"What about you?"
"I've got a lesson to teach someone."
With an ominous expression darkening his face, John marched toward the gaudy man, slapped him on the shoulder, and grinned.
"Hey," John said. "Got you, didn't I?"