Chapter 12 In for a Surprise

After gathering all the necessary information, Ethan borrowed an electric scooter from the security guard and set off. At a local entertainment bar in Sylora, Tristan nursed his pride and a bruised face, having spent the evening entertaining Derrick, one of Sylora's most notorious gang leaders. He was desperate to enlist Derrick's help to deal with a certain someone. "Cheer up, Mr. Xenon! Don't look so glum. Getting rid of someone is no big deal. Let's have a drink first," Derrick said with a hearty laugh, patting Tristan on the shoulder. "That annoying guy! As long as he's alive, I can't get a moment's peace!" Tristan growled while clutching his aching face, his voice filled with venom. "Relax. Since I've already promised to get rid of him, there's no way he'll leave Sylora alive," Derrick replied confidently, a sinister grin spreading across his face. Ring! At that moment, Tristan's phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, a cold smirk appeared on his face. "Hello? Is he out yet?" Tristan asked, his tone sharp and impatient. "I got it." He hung up after a brief acknowledgment, his eyes narrowing with malice. Turning to Derrick, he said, "Derrick, the guy is out." "Alright. I'll send my men to take care of him right now," Derrick said firmly, his voice low and resolute. "Derrick, that guy is pretty skilled. I think it's best if you go yourself. That's the only way I'd feel at ease. Also, it'd be better if you handle it quietly without anyone knowing," Tristan suggested. "Fine. For your sake, Mr. Xenon, I'll lead the team myself," Derrick agreed with a nod, though his mind was fixated on the 150 grand he'd receive for this. "I appreciate it, Derrick. As long as he's dealt with, the money will be transferred on time," Tristan said, his eyes flashing with a hint of ruthless determination. "No problem!" Derrick downed the rest of his drink in one gulp, then stood up and barked, "Jaxon! Gather a dozen of our best men and follow me." "Right away, boss!" A burly man standing nearby responded immediately, trailing after Derrick as they headed out. Watching Derrick leave, Tristan sneered coldly. "How dare he insult me! I'll make sure he doesn't even have a grave to rest in." Men were naturally quick when it came to shopping, and Ethan was no exception. With just 30 bucks, he managed to buy a pack of undergarments and a set of cheap clothes, completely depleting his funds. With his purchases in hand, Ethan hopped back onto the electric scooter and headed toward the villa. However, to his dismay, the scooter's battery ran out just as he reached the base of the hill leading up to the villa. Left with no other choice, he had to push the scooter forward. The high-end villa area was eerily quiet at night. As Ethan pushed the scooter along the empty road, not a single car passed by, adding to the stillness. Vroom! Vroom! Ethan was halfway up the hill when the sudden roar of motorcycle engines broke the silence behind him. Turning around, he saw a line of Harley-Davidsons approaching swiftly. Thinking it was just a wealthy group of bikers, Ethan paid them no mind and continued pushing the scooter. Screech! To his surprise, the convoy stopped abruptly in front of him. With one synchronized move, they turned their bikes around to encircle him, their headlights shining directly onto his face. The glaring lights made it hard for Ethan to see at first, but he quickly adjusted to the brightness. As his eyes adapted, he took in the sight of the riders—each one with brightly dyed hair, tattoos covering their arms, and holding weapons like iron chains and steel pipes. "Hey, you're Ethan, right?" A burly man in a leather jacket with rippling muscles rode his bike closer, fixing his eyes on Ethan. "Nope. Don't know him," Ethan replied immediately, shaking his head. He reminded himself of his promise to Liam, which was to keep a low profile and avoid unnecessary trouble. "Hahaha! We haven't even said anything yet, and this guy's already scared. What a coward!" the muscular man mocked, laughing loudly. "Cut the act. We know it's you." "Pfft. Useless wimp." The gang members sneered and jeered, their taunts filling the air. Facing their taunts, Ethan feigned a submissive tone and asked, "Guys, I don't think I've done anything to offend you, have I?" "You didn't offend us, but you've pissed off Mr. Xenon. He's offering 150 thousand for your head," the muscular man responded with a smug grin. After speaking, he turned to glance at a sharply dressed man with chiseled features standing at the center. Smiling, he said, "Derrick, teaching this guy a lesson is child's play. I can handle it alone. There's no need for everyone to get involved!" Derrick gave Ethan a once-over, unable to discern anything particularly remarkable about him. To Derrick, it seemed likely that Tristan's underlings were simply useless. Needing him to personally deal with such a trivial matter felt like overkill. "Jaxon, don't be fooled by how he looks. According to Mr. Xenon, this guy is pretty skilled," Derrick remarked with a faintly dismissive smirk. "Skilled or not, I'll find out soon enough," Jaxon replied confidently, his face lighting up with self-assurance. "Jaxon, isn't it a bit of an overkill for you to step in personally?" one of the gang members teased.