Chapter 0256

‘As good as dead’?

The moment Alexander’s challenge hit the air, Leandro laughed maniacally, wild and unrestrained.

There he stood, the proud second son of the Jackman dynasty, not even thirty and already ranked

eighty-third among the Chart of Fighters.

Even the seasoned fighters of the northern realms felt small in his shadow. Since his youth, he had

been the

golden boy, one of the mightiest in his powerful clan.

The Jackman family was a northern powerhouse thanks to bruisers like him and, of course, his own

iron-fisted

ways.

“It’s been ages since anyone’s had the guts to talk big in front of me!”

Leandro’s laughter faded, and he eyed Alexander with a sneer. “So, I hear you’re the one who took

down the Ellis family and brought the Hart dynasty to its knees?

“Let me clue you in: Next to my Jackman family, those families are small fry, not even worth

mentioning!

“Think you can mess with the Ellis and Harts and then step to the Jackman family? You’re dreaming!

And it’s

not just you-even the mighty New Chesire Group is just a bug waiting to be squashed under the

Jackman

boot!”

Alexander just shook his head, slow and deliberate.

Enough with the chit-chat. There was no point in wasting more words on the so-called ‘second son.’ He

had

his chance and blew it.

“Once you’re out of the picture, Ol’ Mare, Woolpackton, Tormora-all those underground rackets are

mine for

the taking!”

Watching Alexander’s nonchalant shake, Leandro’s smirk grew wider, his hands a blur as he prepared

to strike. “You first. Then tomorrow, Amber… But before she dies, I’ll have to indulge in Ol’ Mare’s finest

beauty.

Can’t wait to savor that,” he cackled with anticipation.

With that, he lunged forward, ready to strike.

He was number eighty-three on the Chart of Fighters, a force more daunting than their average

Grandmaster. In the blink of an eye, as he launched his attack, his figure turned hazy, his right hand

seeming to grip an invisible force, creating a sharp, metallic screech as it sliced through the air.

Quicker than a flash.

In that split second, Leandro’s right hand might as well have been forged of steel, his fingertips

gleaming with a brilliant, metallic shine. With a speed that defied sight, he struck at Alexander’s chest

with a claw-like blow.

“Chart of Fighters eighty-third? Nothing but an empty title!”

Alexander remained unshaken, his right thumb leisurely rising, lightly pressing against the center of

Leandro’s

1/3

His move was a paradox-slow to the eye, yet swift beyond measure. Even Asher, who knew nothing of

fighters, could see the move clearly but could not grasp its intricate mastery.

The counterattack was a masterstroke, a delayed action that preempted the initial strike, a single point

shattering the whole.

To the onlookers, Alexander’s finger was like a pre-set trap. Leandro’s palm, with deadly precision,

smashed right into it. The clash was like metal on metal, a chilling sound that echoed the impact.

Then came a sharp hiss, and blood flew in all directions.

Leandro’s palm, tougher than any ordinary metal, was impaled by Alexander’s lone finger, bone and

blood

erupting in a gruesome spectacle that covered his face.

“Bro. Brother!”

On the ground, Matthew, previously menacing, then stared with eyes wide, his face a mask of disbelief.

It was not just Matthew. The Jackman family’s three bodyguards, and even Asher behind Alexander,

were all struck dumb, shivering uncontrollably. Their hearts pounded as if they were about to burst from

their chests.

Had Alex actually won?

The Lackman family’s second son…defeated?

Impossible!

“Because you’re simply too weak.”

Alexander pulled back his finger and with a swift flick, sent droplets of blood flying from his fingertip. He

locked eyes with Leandro, whose face twisted in anger, and asked in a hushed tone, “So, do you regret

letting

that chance slip by?”

Leandro’s eyes were red with fury. He gripped his wounded right hand with his left, blood rhythmically

dripping down. His face contorted in pain, teeth grinding audibly. “You shattered my best move in one

go… Alexander,

you’re ruthless!”

He spun on his heel, barking out, “Yaron!”

Nearby, the driver Yaron scurried from the sleek Maserati, his voice shaking, “Mister Leandro Jackman,

what’s…”

“Pay up!”

Leandro glared at Alexander, seething. “Do as he says. Whatever he asks, the Jackman family will

pay.”

Yaron nodded frantically, managing a nervous grin, and turned to Alexander with a bow. “Mister Kane,

just name your price, the Jackman family will…”

“You’ve got it all wrong.”

Alexander cut him off with a dismissive shake of his head, “I offered compensation before we started.

You

2/3

His voice dropped to a chilling whisper, “I told you, you’re a dead man.”

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