Chapter 479 Riley in Trouble
As the night descended upon the city, James emerged from the Mystic Alliance compound, his Lamborghini cutting through the darkness like a dragon's talon.
After a full day of interrogation, Terrence had surrendered everything—his misdeeds, his leverage, his secrets.
While Nathaniel continued purging corrupt elements from law enforcement, James committed every confidential detail to memory. These secrets were now weapons in his arsenal, strengthening his resolve to cleanse the sect of its vermin.
Yet his thoughts kept returning to Helena Williams and that fateful arrow.
According to Terrence's confession, years ago when Uri ascended from Vice-Chairman to Chairman, the two had shared a night of uninhibited drinking.
In his drunken stupor, Uri had revealed his prized Divine Mechanism Arrow, boasting of his greatest achievement—striking Helena with it over twenty years ago.
That single arrow had not only felled her instantly but had confined her to bed for two full weeks.
The reason? Someone had paid a king's ransom for Uri to loose an arrow while Helena was surrounded by enemies.
Despite knowing the grave consequences, Uri, drowning in gambling debts, had accepted the mission. With that blood money, he had cleared his debts and maneuvered his way into the Mystic Alliance, eventually climbing to the position of Sovereign City's Chairman.
He had lived in fear for years, dreading the day The Dragon's Breath would come knocking.
But Helena's loss of her son had redirected the investigation toward the masked assailants, allowing Uri to escape retribution.
Though shocked by this revelation, Terrence had kept silent, pretending ignorance even after Uri sobered up.
Uri never probed what Terrence might have heard, but his annual tribute mysteriously increased from ten million to thirty million dollars—an unspoken confirmation of his drunken truth.
"Should I inform Mr. Reyes?" James contemplated as his vehicle glided through the night. Since owing Byron a favor, he had taken a deeper interest in The Dragon's Breath affairs.
After careful consideration, he dismissed the idea. Without concrete evidence, sharing such information would only put Byron on edge and throw both Sovereign City and the Mystic Alliance into chaos. Better to confront Uri personally first.
Just then, his phone vibrated. Connecting his Bluetooth earpiece, he answered to hear a deep, resonant voice: "James, how have you been?"
James paused momentarily before replying with a smile, "Mr. Miller, I'm doing well. How about yourself? Health holding up?"
It was Brandon.
"With your prescribed medicines, I'm not just healthy—I'm thriving," Brandon laughed heartily. "Since we're family, I'll be direct. I called for two reasons."
"First, congratulations on your promotion within the Mystic Alliance—second only to the master himself. You should have seen Richard dragging us out for three consecutive celebrations when he heard you became First Emissary."
He sighed appreciatively, "In all of Celestia's billion-plus population, you're the only young talent Kirk has ever truly acknowledged."
James smiled, "Thank you both for your support. Next time I'm in Rosewood City, I'll treat everyone to a proper feast."
"The Mystic Alliance was founded to promote Phoenixia's martial arts and elevate our nation's physical strength," Brandon's voice carried pride. "Having someone like you at the helm brings me genuine joy. But the second matter concerns Riley. She's in trouble."
His tone grew worried, "She was returning from abroad when she was attacked with some mysterious gas. She's fallen into a coma."
"What? Riley's been poisoned?" James exclaimed, shocked. "How is she now?"
Despite Riley's antagonistic attitude toward him, she had helped him numerous times in Rosewood City. James considered her a friend.
"She's stable after emergency treatment, but she remains unconscious," Brandon exhaled heavily. "I wouldn't trouble you with this if we weren't completely out of options."
"Don't be polite; we're friends. There's no trouble between us," James responded immediately. "Have Bryan, Bradley, and Mr. Powell examined her?"
"They have," Brandon's voice carried a grave weight. "It took all three of them working together to stabilize her deteriorating condition. When she first arrived at the hospital, they issued a critical condition notice." He paused.
"Only through the needle technique you taught them did they manage to snatch her back from death's grasp. But they can only maintain her condition—awakening her is beyond their abilities. They believe that if the three of them cannot revive Riley, you're the only one in this world who might."
"I'll fly to Rosewood City tonight," James promised. "Rest assured, I'll do everything in my power to save her."
"Riley isn't in Rosewood City—she's with the Harvey family in Sovereign City," Brandon clarified, his voice lightening. "If you go to treat her, they'll send someone to meet you."
James was taken aback. "Sovereign City? The Harvey family?"
"Riley's mother is from The Walker lineage and heads the Harvey family," Brandon explained. "With Riley in this state, she's personally caring for her daughter—a mother's touch is always more attentive."
James silently marveled at Riley's impressive background. No wonder she wielded her blade so fearlessly—with such powerful connections on both her father's and mother's sides.
Pushing aside these thoughts, he focused on Riley's condition. "Very well, please share my contact information with the Harvey family. I'll fly over tonight."
Brandon advised calmly, "There's no rush. Riley is stable for now. Take care of your affairs first."
"Alright, I'll take the high-speed rail tomorrow," James decided, noting the late hour. Arriving at night might disturb the Harvey household.
Brandon concluded, "Good. I'll inform them to send someone to meet you."
After ending the call, James furrowed his brow, wondering what dangerous activities Riley had been involved in to warrant such an attack. This was truly life-or-death intrigue.
Lost in thought, James drove past the bar district and steered his Lamborghini into a back alley, taking a shortcut home. "I'm hungry. Better grab some late-night food."
Three minutes later, he pulled up near a food stall, parking the Lamborghini—a gift from Ollie that he feared might rust from disuse—in an alley across the way.
After enjoying a hearty meal, James packed some food for Samantha and the others. As he walked back to his car, he heard a girl's voice from the alley:
"Let me go! Don't touch me!"
James ran toward the sound, reaching the end of the alley. On the ground lay a scattered Hermès handbag, earbuds, and a phone. Beyond them stood a white van.
Five young men were dragging a semi-conscious young woman toward the vehicle, their faces twisted with lecherous grins.
The woman was tall and striking, with delicate features and a naturally commanding presence. Her mouth was gagged, her hair disheveled, and her white blouse and black clothing torn, revealing skin that gleamed enticingly in the dim light.
Yet the beautiful woman's eyes were filled with nothing but terror.
James needed no explanation to understand she was being forcibly abducted, destined for unspeakable violation.
"Mind your own business, kid," growled a young man in a trench coat who spotted James. "Get lost."
His four companions turned to face James, their expressions both ferocious and menacing. One of them pulled a knife from his jacket, waving it threateningly.
The woman saw James, her eyes lighting up with a flicker of hope as she weakly called out, "Help me, please help me."
The man in the trench coat slapped her hard across the face. "Help? After drinking all our liquor, you think you can just walk away?" Five finger marks appeared on her pretty face.
The trench-coated thug pointed at James and barked once more, "Get lost!"
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