Chapter 1215
The red Ferrari screeched to a stop in front of the famous Genesis Dispensary like a streak of lightning. The dramatic entrance instantly caught the attention of pedestrians walking by.
“Who the hell do you think you are? Driving that flashy piece of crap like you own the place? Move it before we lock your ass in!”
Two burly security thugs stationed at the entrance of Genesis Dispensary stomped over, cursing as they approached.
Janice jumped out of the car in a panic and rushed to explain, “I’m sorry, sirs, really sorry! We’ll leave right now, please don’t-”
However, before she could even finish her sentence, Andrew stepped forward and slapped both men across the face.
Each blow landed with a crack, and neither man had time to react before their heads slammed into the pavement, completely unconscious.
Janice stood frozen, wondering if Andrew had always had such an explosive temper. How had she never seen this side of him before?
“You bastard! You think you can hit our guys and walk away?!”
Within seconds, a group of 15 goons armed with steel pipes and thick wooden batons stormed out of the dispensary, their faces twisted with rage.
Andrew glanced at them with casual contempt. “So this is Genesis Dispensary? Doesn’t look like a medicinal clinic to me. Looks more like a mob-run shakedown joint.”
Old Hayface—a sharp-jawed man with a ratty ponytail, a mole on his chin, and one long black hair sticking from it—stepped forward with a sneer. He looked at Andrew and barked, “You little punk, who the hell are you? Do you even know where you are?”
Andrew remained unfazed. “Name’s Andrew Lloyd. I’m here to ask why your dispensary beats other people up.”
Old Hayface’s expression darkened before curling into a cruel grin. “Well, well, look who it is. You little bastard. Funny you should come knocking–Heaven’s got a door, and you walked straight into Hell instead.
“You pissed off Mr. Lake, and I was just thinking it’s time someone settled that debt. Since you’re here, don’t even think about walking out.”
With that, he raised his hand and gave the signal. All 15 men rushed forward, weapons swinging, their muscles flexed and ready to break bones.
“Don’t kill him! Make sure to break all three of his legs, and make it so that even his parents won’t recognize him!” Old Hayface laughed darkly from the side.
Janice cried out, tears falling as she screamed, “Andrew, run! Please!”
Yet, Andrew did not move. His voice remained calm and steady. “Janice, stay back. The one who laid a hand on your grandfather–I’ll be taking his arm. And as for how Genesis Dispensary treated Oak Apothecary, I’ll make sure they get it all back, blow for blow.”
His eyes flashed with cold fury, and without another word, he launched forward, his fist meeting the first attacker’s wooden club.
The club snapped like twigs under the force of his punch. The same fist drove straight into the attacker’s chest, and with a wet crack, blood sprayed from his mouth as he crumpled to the ground.
Old Hayface took an involuntary step back, his confidence shaken. He thought, ‘Damn… this kid is stronger than he looks.’
Still, he grinned wickedly. So what if he was tough? One guy could not take on an entire squad. That was why Genesis Dispensary kept muscle around–to maintain their grip on Blumedale’s medical world.
No matter how strong Andrew was, eventually, he would be nothing more than a broken body lying in a pool of his own blood.
However, what happened next made his blood run cold. His handpicked brawlers–men who could take down five ordinary guys each–fell like bowling pins in Andrew’s path.
Those who merely brushed against him howled in pain and collapsed, unable to get back up. Meanwhile, those unlucky enough to take a direct hit flew back coughing blood, eyes bulging in agony.
The few who got struck full force by Andrew’s palm or sweeping kicks did not even get the chance to cry out—they dropped instantly, eyes rolling back as they hit the ground, twitching or unconscious, maybe worse.