Chapter 5 High And Mighty

• In the corridor outside, the Zander unleashed a tirade at the security captain.
• “Idiots! All of you are useless. Someone sneaked into the CEO's office and you didn't even notice!”
• The security team leader's face was ashen, his voice trembling as he said, “Our security measures are top-notch. We have twenty-four-hour patrols, infrared alarm systems, and 360-degree surveillance cameras that leave no blind spots. Not even a fly could get into the chairman's office, unless...”
• “Unless what?” Aloysius demanded, his eyes wide.
• “Unless he's a ghost!” the security team leader said, swallowing hard.
• Slap!
• He was promptly slapped across the face.
• Immediately, Aloysius's eyes hardened as he said, “He's no ghost! His skills are so exceptional that even the special forces can't compare. Clearly, he's a formidable individual!”
• “Aloysius?” Barrett asked, his eyelids twitching.
• “Go! Hurry up and gather all the security personnel and nearby gang members, the more the merrier.” Aloysius said through his gritted teeth, “I refuse to believe that you alone can take on a hundred men!”
• Back inside the office, Lorcan retrieved a bottle of treasured XO brandy from his collection, poured a glass, and slowly handed it to Huxley.
• Glug... Glug...
• Huxley cast a glance but didn't touch the wine glass. He simply scrutinized the elderly man before him. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You are quite the character!”
• Lorcan slowly took a seat opposite Huxley as he earnestly asked, “Your visit implies that Neil has finally decided to speak?”
• “That's right.” Huxley nodded in agreement.
• “He's so unreliable.” Lorcan shook his head lightly. “It seems I have to send him to meet his maker. In the pugilistic world, there's no place for such a treacherous person.”
• “No need. You'll never see him again,” Huxley said nonchalantly.
• “Hmm?” Lorcan squinted his eyes and asked, “Did you kill him after forcing a confession out of him?”
• “No, death would have been too merciful. I choose to make him suffer a fate worse than that,” Huxley said, his gaze growing intense as he stared at Lorcan, while his words carried an implicit message.
• After a long silence, Lorcan said, “Young man, are you looking for the culprit to kill him?”
• “No!” Huxley enunciated each word clearly as he spoke. “I want to torment his entire family until they wish they were dead.”
• His face held a maniacal look, his tone domineering. Even Lorcan, a man who had seen it all, was blown away by it.
• Lorcan spoke with a complex expression. “Young man, I can understand your feelings, but not everything can be done at a whim. Some people are so powerful that you can't even reach them. How are you even going to deal with them?”
• “It seems you know something.” A murderous intent flashed in Huxley's eyes.
• “I suppose I do have an idea,” lamented Lorcan. “Young man, I truly sympathize with you, but promise me, won't you? Don't go throwing your life away. In this society, the weak don't have the power to resist. You should leave. I'll spare your life.”
• Although there was a hint of sympathy in his words, it was overshadowed by a sense of condescension and superiority, as if he were bestowing charity upon Huxley.
• “Ha ha ha ha!” Huxley burst out laughing.
• His laughter was filled with an unparalleled arrogance, so loud that it made the glass hum in vibration.
• “You old geezer, it seems you have the situation all mixed up. You're in a precarious position, yet you still can't figure out who's strong and who's weak.” He rose at a leisurely pace, glanced at the timer on his watch, and said, “Why don't we do this? I'm giving you one minute to spill everything you know. Speak up and I assure you that one of your three sons can be spared.”
• Beep!
• Huxley pressed a button and a sixty-second countdown started.
• Fifty-nine.
• Fifty-eight.
• Fifty-seven.
• Fifty-six.
• Lorcan let out a chilling laugh. His eyes were icy cold as he calmly said, “Do you have any idea how many brash young men like you I've killed and thrown into the river over the course of a year?”
• “All I know is that you've got forty-five seconds left. After that, your end won't be pretty,” Huxley stated coldly, bearing down on Lorcan.
• “Don't move!” Lorcan commanded, swiftly pulling a Colt pistol from his sleeve. “I know you must have some skills to break in here, but don't underestimate my marksmanship. Everyone outside has this place surrounded!”
• “Is that so?” Huxley raised his hand slightly.
• Something was heard clattering on the ground—a bunch of bullets.
• In response, Lorcan was struck by an epiphany and quickly pulled the trigger.
• Click... Click... Click...
• However, only the sound of an empty chamber echoed.
• In that instant, he was profoundly stunned, staring at Huxley in disbelief. “When... When did you do it?”
• The Colt handgun he had always kept hidden in his breast pocket was actually stolen by Huxley, who even removed all the bullets. Yet he was completely oblivious to it all.