Chapter 7 Revenge, the Second Target!

• The dim streetlights cast a gloomy hue over the desolate street as Roman strolled leisurely along.
• Suddenly, a group of people emerged and surrounded him, eight of them in total, each exuding an air of roughness, wielding steel pipes in their hands, unmistakably portraying themselves as tough characters. Leading the pack was a burly figure, his face marked with a vicious scar, radiating a menacing demeanor.
• "So, you're the loser who assaulted Mr. Lyon, huh?" Scarface locked his gaze on Roman and said in a deep voice.
• "Interesting, I haven't gone to him yet, and he's come to me!" Roman muttered with an amused smirk.
• "Looks like we've got him, boys. Hit 'em! Avenge Mr. Lyon!" Scarface commanded, and his lackeys charged toward Roman with their steel pipes. However, Roman merely stood rooted on his spot, watching disdainfully as the attackers came at him. He simply couldn't muster any interest in dealing with these people.
• Still, when the thugs swung their steel pipes toward Roman's head, he moved.
• As quiet as a mouse before the storm and as swift as a hare when in motion, Roman's figure moved like a fleeting shadow, darting through the midst of those men. Wherever his form touched, someone was sent flying.
• Like the autumn wind blowing, leaves scattered. In less than thirty seconds, all eight men were lying on the ground, groaning in pain, clutching various parts of their bodies.
• Scarface was dumbfounded. Didn't Preston say this guy's a wimp? He's… He's so strong!
• Roman stood quietly there, looking at Scarface. "I, Roman Liddell, do not kill the innocent. Your sins do not warrant death, so I won't kill you. However, while death may be spared, escaping the consequences of your actions is not."
• As he finished speaking, Roman's figure had already arrived next to Scarface like a lingering shadow. With a snap, he broke Scarface's legs, and Scarface fell to the ground with a thud. The pain was so excruciating that he passed out directly, not even having the chance to scream.
• Upon that, Roman raised his gaze to the moon obscured by dark clouds in the sky, feeling the cold wind brush against his face. "The moon shrouded in darkness, the wind howling high, it's the perfect time for a kill," he murmured. "Preston, are you ready?"
• …
• In an upscale villa on the riverside, Dominic lay on the bed, his legs wrapped in bandages, staring blankly at the ceiling, devoid of any vitality.
• The doctor said not only were Dominic's legs brutally broken, but he also suffered a concussion. Whether he would become feeble-minded was left to fate.
• "That motherf*cking son of a b*tch! He'll pay for this!"
• Beside Dominic stood a middle-aged man in a suit, his face now contorted with endless rage. He was Preston Lyon, Dominic's father and the chairman of Evergrain Enterprises.
• When he learned that the remnant from the Liddell Family had returned and not only crippled his son but also sent him an urn, he was furious. So, he immediately hired Scarface from the underworld to kill him. However, he still had yet to receive any news from Scarface, which made him somewhat restless.
• Just then, a sly-looking subordinate entered. "Sir, Mr. Hall is here," he reported to Preston.
• "Please, bring him in quickly." Preston's face lit up, eager to welcome their guest.
• "Yes, sir." The subordinate promptly ushered an elderly man inside.
• The elder, around sixty years old, wore a long robe. His hair was silver, and he sported a goatee, giving him the appearance of a venerable sage.
• Mr. Cornelius Hall, the Executive Secretary of the Martial Arts Association of Riverport and the Vice President of the Traditional Cathay Medicine Society, was also a formidable martial artist and a highly skilled traditional Cathay medicine practitioner.
• Given Dominic's condition now, Preston spared no expense in inviting Cornelius to treat his son.
• "Mr. Hall, greetings. "Preston greeted Cornelius courteously. "Please diagnose my son, will you, sir?"
• After the diagnosis, he said, "The assailant was extremely ruthless. The boy will need a miracle to recover…"
• "Mr. Hall, please save my son! Whatever conditions you have, just name them!" Preston knelt down, pleading with Cornelius.
• Cornelius stroked his beard, murmuring, "Let me prescribe some medicine for your son first and see how we can work from there."
• "Thank you so much, Mr. Hall," Preston expressed his gratitude sincerely.
• Shortly after, Cornelius prescribed some medicine. After prescribing, he looked somewhat puzzled at Preston. "Mr. Lyon, I heard that the Liddell boy injured your son. Did he live?"
• "You're correct, Mr. Hall. That b*stard survived, and worst of all, as soon as he returned, he assaulted my son and even sent me… an urn!" Preston said bitterly.
• Hearing that, Cornelius revealed a hint of curiosity. Having lived most of his life in Riverport, he naturally knew about the tragedy at Cloudcrest Pavilion.
• One of the four major families in the city, the Liddell Family, was annihilated overnight. The mastermind behind the massacre was a prominent figure in Elysium. However, the son mysteriously disappeared, only to return three years later. Cornelius found this rather intriguing. "So, that boy has returned for revenge?" He commented, stroking his beard.
• "Revenge? Haha! He's just a live-in son-in-law now, a loser. What does he have to seek revenge with? What a joke! I've already sent someone to kill him!" Preston sneered.
• "Oh? I see…" Cornelius nodded faintly. But the next second, a loud bang echoed, followed by two black-clad figures flying into the room and crashing onto the ground in a miserable state. Both Preston and Cornelius were shocked. The two figures were the villa's bodyguards, quite formidable in their own right. They could easily handle several opponents bare-handed, yet they were thrown into the room in such a sorry state.
• "Who's there?" Preston roared in anger.
• Cornelius also turned grimly, his murky gaze fixed on the door.
• "It's me, the b*stard you speak of!" An indifferent voice sounded, followed by a figure slowly entering.
• "You b*stard! How are you still alive?!" Preston, seeing Roman, paled. Didn't Scarface find him? How is he unscathed?!
• Roman smirked, a mocking smile. He looked at Preston and said, "Preston, since I dare to come back, do you think sending a few lackeys can kill me? Aren't you underestimating me?"
• Preston's body trembled slightly. He realized it now. Roman had done away with Scarface!
• Meanwhile, Roman sauntered in, glancing at Dominic lying on the bed, and smirked coldly. "Preston, it must feel great to see your son become disabled, doesn't it?"
• "You… you son of a b*tch! I will kill you!" Preston roared.
• "Yes, I'm the loser, the b*stard in your eyes. I've never denied it before. But now that I've returned, I will tell you all who look down on me that not only am I not, but I'm also stronger than you! A hundred times, a thousand times, ten thousand times stronger!" Roman's gaze locked onto Preston, his voice low and steady.