Chapter 188 The Dragon Head Banquet
Gasps swept through the room.
"Vortex?"
"He's actually here?"
"At Mr. Paul Two's Dragon Head Banquet?"
Some whispers rippled through the room.
This man's audacity was staggering.
'Did he have no regard for the unspoken rules of the underworld? Or was he simply that confident in his own power?' They questioned inside.
Every eye in the room was glued to the entrance as two heavily-tattooed young men pushed a wheelchair into the banquet hall. The chair itself was unremarkable, but the seat was strangely elevated, draped with a red cloth that did little to conceal the ominous shape beneath.
One of the young men, grinning mockingly, spoke up, "Our boss sends his regards, Mr. Paul Two. He figured a celebration like this deserves a proper gift; something... memorable."
With a theatrical flourish, he shoved the wheelchair forward. It rolled across the polished floor, picking up speed until it slammed into the stage with a sickening thud. The red cloth tumbled free, revealing its gruesome content.
It was a cow's head.
It was freshly severed, its eyes glazed over in death as blood still dripped from its neck. The stench of gore filled the air, thick and sickening.
Fury rippled through the Black Fox gang members.
'A cow's head at this banquet? It was a blatant insult, a curse upon our gang and Mr. Paul!' They thought to themselves.
The other gang leaders, though less personally offended, were nonetheless outraged. Many of them were superstitious, and seeing the head sent shivers down their spines. It was a violation of the unspoken code of conduct that governed their world. Even in the underworld, there were lines that shouldn't be crossed.
"Vortex has gone too far this time!"
"Does he think he can simply waltz in here and disrespect us like this?"
"We should teach him a lesson he won't soon forget!"
Angry murmurs filled the room, but before anyone could act, some movement came from the stage.
Spring moved with a speed that defied comprehension. One moment she was standing beside Melissa, the next she was near the two thugs; her movements swift.
Two sharp cracks echoed through the room.
The first thug was sent flying, crashing into a table with a bone-jarring thud. The second, though still standing, howled in pain as his jaw shattered, teeth scattering across the floor like broken pearls.
Silence came once more, heavier than before.
Everyone stared at Spring, their eyes wide with disbelief.
That little girl had taken down two strong gangsters in the blink of an eye?
Spring's face was blank as she grabbed the remaining thug by the collar and dragged him toward the stage. He mumbled incoherently, his words lost in blood and spittle.
"You... you can't do this to me... Do you know who I work for?"
Spring ignored his pathetic blustering. She tossed him at Elbert's feet like garbage before retreating, her gaze cold and unwavering.
Collective gasps rippled through the room.
The message was unmistakable.
This seemingly harmless girl wasn't to be trifled with. She was a weapon, forged in fire and honed to a razor's edge.
The gang leaders, their earlier bravado forgotten, exchanged uneasy glances. They had underestimated Mr. Paul Two.
'He had a weapon like this at his disposal, but he never bothered mentioning it?' they said inside.
"Those two were just pawns," Elbert said, his voice calm. However, his words were still steely. "Vortex wouldn't send them alone. He likes to make an entrance."
He turned his head, his gaze fixed on the shattered window at the far end of the room.
Thirty seconds.
That was all it took.
A figure came crashing through the window, glass shattering in sparkling shards. A man landed lightly on the stage, his white suit immaculate despite his violent entrance.
Vortex.
He looked around, his expression unreadable. His eyes, cold and calculating, finally settled on Elbert.
"You're Paul Two, I presume?" His voice was surprisingly soft, almost gentle. However, it had a menacing aura.
The self-proclaimed Godlike who threw his weight around, terrorizing honest businessmen.
Elbert sighed. "Godlike? That's what they're calling him these days? How charming."
"Don't mock me, boy," Vortex growled, his demeanor shifting in an instant. "You may have fooled these sheep, but you don't intimidate me. You're playing a dangerous game; one you can't win."
"Is that so?" Elbert countered, his expression unfazed.
"You should've stayed in the shadows where you belong," Vortex continued, his voice low and dangerous. "However, you made a mistake. You drew my attention, and now you will face the consequences."
Brother Seven stood up, his face pale. "Vortex, enough! This is madness! We are here to celebrate, not to see senseless bloodshed."
He slammed his fist on the table, his voice trembling slightly. "Leave now, and I'll forget this crime. The Council will not tolerate this kind of disrespect."
Vortex coldly stared at Brother Seven. "The Council? You think you speak for the Council, old man? You're a relic, a fading memory of a bygone era. Your time has passed."
He turned back to Elbert, smiling cruelly. "Tonight, Wavehaven's streets will run red with the Black Foxers' blood. Then, everyone will know the price of crossing me."
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