Derrick Foster stood up tall, looking down at Cliff Foster with contempt. "Obviously, I'm here to end your pathetic life!"
"Why?"
Cliff Foster's expression changed dramatically. He stared at Derrick Foster in disbelief. Sure, they'd never exactly gotten along, but this was going way too far—they were both part of the Foster Family, after all.
Suddenly, a crazed and sinister look flashed across Derrick Foster's face. He shouted, "Why? Good question—let me spell it out for you! My dear big brother, your dear father, actually wants to hand the family headship to you, a useless waste. I refuse to accept it! Compared to you, I've contributed more to the Foster Family and my martial arts are stronger. Why should you, of all people, be chosen over me?
Only under my leadership can the Foster Family grow even stronger. But my dear big brother pretends not to see that and insists on passing the position to you. So, I have no choice but to kill you. Don't blame me, nephew—blame your father for being so biased!"
"So that's how it is. I get it now." Cliff Foster gave a bitter laugh. "Looks like my father was right not to choose you. Someone like you will do anything to get what you want. If you were in charge, you'd drag the Foster Family straight into hell."
At this, Cliff Foster seemed to realize something. "My father was ambushed—was that your doing too?"
"Guess you're not totally clueless!" Derrick Foster smirked. "I was planning to wait until he stepped down to take over as head, but then he named you as his successor. So I had to make my move!"
"You're nothing but a beast! That's your own brother—do you have any humanity left?" Cliff Foster suddenly shouted, his voice shaking with emotion.
"How much is humanity worth, anyway?" Derrick Foster sneered. "Enough talk, nephew. I wanted you to know why before you die. Out of respect, as your third uncle, I'll do the job myself."
As soon as he finished speaking, Derrick Foster suddenly lunged, reaching for Cliff Foster's throat.
Just then—
Whoosh!
A wine glass shot out at lightning speed, aiming straight for Derrick Foster's wrist.
"Hmph!"
Derrick Foster snorted coldly, changing his claw to a fist and punching at the wine glass. He sneered, "So, the pretty boy is a martial artist after all."
But at that moment, Derrick Foster's face twisted in shock, disbelief flashing in his eyes.
Bang!
True energy exploded—the wine glass flew back into Ian Song's hand, while Derrick Foster was forced back three steps by the force before he could steady himself.
"Trying to kill someone right in front of me? Did you even ask? Besides, Cliff is my friend—there's no way I'm letting you kill him!"
Ian Song's voice echoed calmly through the private suite.
Derrick Foster fixed Ian with a wary glare and barked, "Kid, this is Foster family business. My advice? Stay out of it!" He was an Innate First Layer master, but Ian had knocked him back with a single flick of a wine cup—proof that this teenager was at least Innate First Layer himself.
Any Innate martial artist was not to be underestimated. That was why he hadn't immediately attacked again.
Ian considered for a moment, then said, "Since this is a Foster family matter, I suppose it's not my place to interfere. However..."
Suddenly, Ian looked over at Cliff Foster. "Cliff, would you like to hire me? I won't charge much—just a friendly rate of one dollar. How about it?"
"Of course I would! Forget a dollar—even a hundred million would be fine!" Cliff replied, too excited to hide it. Even the Nangong family's top experts couldn't do anything to Ian, which proved he was truly powerful.
Seeing this, Derrick Foster grew furious and shouted at Ian, "Kid, I'll give you one last chance—leave now and I'll spare your life! Otherwise, I'll make sure you die with no place to bury your corpse!"
"Then come and try!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Ian flicked the wine cup in his hand again.
Whoosh!
This time, the cup shot out even faster than before. Derrick Foster barely had time to react before it slammed into his chest.
Bang!
With a muffled grunt, Derrick staggered backward and crashed to the floor.
He clutched his chest as he struggled to stand. His face had gone ghostly pale, and his gaze at Ian was now filled with murderous intent—and a hint of fear.
"Huang, Ma—get in here! Kill that punk for me!"
He had paid a hefty price to hire these two experts from outside—one was Innate First Layer, the other Innate Second Layer.
Swish! Swish!
Both men lunged forward at the same time, heading straight for Ian. One held a dagger, its cold gleam aimed at Ian's chest, while the other unleashed a punch at Ian's head.
Whoosh whoosh!
Two wine cups shot out like lightning, slamming into the vital acupoints on both men's chests.
Both men went pale with shock and retreated quickly. At that moment, Ian grabbed a plate from the table, pressed his hands together, and shattered it into countless pieces.
"Go!"
With a low shout, the shards in his hands turned into a hundred streaks of cold light, shooting out like a rain of blades.
Thud thud thud thud!
Screams rang out, followed by two heavy thuds as the bloodied men collapsed to the floor.
Cliff Foster's eyes widened at the scene, his breathing turning rapid.
Meanwhile, Derrick Foster's face turned deathly pale. Two experts—one Innate First Layer, one Innate Second Layer—had been badly injured in an instant, even when working together.
There was only one explanation: this teenager was at least Innate Third Layer.
The mighty Foster family only had one Innate Third Layer expert. How could this young man possibly be Innate Third Layer? Derrick didn't want to believe it, but he couldn't deny the facts.
"Cliff, how do you want to deal with this uncle who can't stop spewing filth?" Ian asked, pointing at Derrick.
Cliff Foster really wanted to kill the guy, but that would make him just like Derrick. Still, Derrick had tried to kill him—and if Ian hadn't been here today, Cliff would already be dead. Thinking of that, Cliff's eyes filled with resentment. "Ian, help me cripple his dantian!"
"No!"
Derrick's face twisted in panic. He spun around and tried to run out of the suite.
"Think you can run?"
In a blur, Ian appeared right in front of Derrick and slammed his palm into Derrick's dantian.
Derrick let out a miserable scream, collapsed to the floor, and spat out several mouthfuls of blood. His expression was utterly defeated—his dantian had been shattered.
The dantian was where a martial artist stored their true qi. Without it, the true qi inside would disperse as well.
So, if you wanted to cripple a martial artist, all you had to do was destroy their dantian.
"Just kill me already!"
Derrick looked at Cliff with a wretched expression.
"I won't kill you. I want you to watch as I lead the Foster family to greater glory!" Cliff said coldly.
With the crisis resolved, Cliff Foster walked over to Rick and Wayne, checked their injuries, and couldn't help but feel sorrow—both men's internal organs had been shattered, and they were barely hanging on.
"Let me handle it!"
Ian reached into his pocket and pulled out two Vital Essence Pills, then handed one to Rick and the other to Wayne.
"Swallow it!"
Both men obediently swallowed the pills. Ian then placed his palm on each of their chests and sent a surge of true qi into their bodies.
The medicinal power of the Vital Essence Pills combined with Ian's true qi to stabilize their injuries. With a few coughs, Rick and Wayne slowly regained consciousness.
Although they were still extremely weak, their lives were no longer in danger.
Cliff Foster looked at Ian, his gratitude and admiration deeper than ever.