Chapter 2059

Since they now knew Shiloh was being held at the Majestic Hotel, Andrew’s next move became clear.

“So what’s your plan? Just storm the place?” Eric asked.

Andrew thought for a moment. “At this point, breaking in head-on is the only option.”

Eric scoffed. “You’re strong, I’ll give you that. But Jack said the McCormicks and Henry had already tried to make a move, but got nowhere. That means there’s someone powerful inside. If you rush in, it won’t end well.”

Andrew shrugged. “You’re not wrong. But time is money, and we can’t waste it.”

Eric clenched his teeth. “If the Southern Martial Union headquarters were still under Dad’s control, no one in Goldridge would dare disrespect me.”

Andrew smirked. “Eric, aren’t you ashamed to say that? Don’t forget that it was you who betrayed him and sided with Henry. By the underworld’s rules, a traitor like you deserves a slow death.”

Eric’s face went rigid, his voice dry. “At least I don’t regret it.”

Andrew sneered. “Whether you regret it or not, only you know. Denial won’t change the truth. Enough talk… Let’s move.”

Eric narrowed his eyes. “So how do we do this? If you’re thinking about charging through the front door, count me out. I want to live a few more years.”

Andrew grinned and pointed toward the street. “See them? The guys in blue trench coats carrying weapons?”

Eric followed his gaze. “Yeah, the Blues' foot soldiers. They patrol every night.”

Andrew started walking toward them. “Then come on. I’ve got an idea.”

Eric did not understand but followed anyway. The midnight streets of Goldridge were almost empty, aside from the occasional cab or spoiled rich kid revving his sports car home from a night out.

Andrew picked up his pace until they caught up with a group of the Blues' punks. The men reeked of alcohol, cigarettes dangling from their lips as they joked crudely.

“I like Ms. Melody! She’s the queen of curves!”

“No way. Ms. Blossom is still the standard.”

“You’re both outdated. Nothing beats the local girls these days!”

They never noticed Andrew and Eric tailing them.

When the gangsters ducked into a narrow alley and slipped into a shabby house, Andrew and Eric exchanged a look before kicking the door open. The place was a mess, littered with cigarette butts and beer bottles.

Their sudden entrance sobered the drunks instantly. From the back room, a burly fighter with sharp features launched a whip-kick at Andrew’s shoulder.

Andrew did not even look. He caught the man’s leg mid-air and yanked, slamming him to the floor so hard he coughed up bile. His scream filled the room.

Eric grabbed a machete off the table and pressed it to the man’s throat, smiling darkly. “One move, and I’ll spill his blood right here.”

The rest of the gang froze, too scared to act.

The man on the ground was clearly their leader, and he roared in defiance. “Who the hell are you? Touch the Blues and you’re asking to die!”

Andrew brushed off his hands and turned to Eric. “Hurry up. Time to show off your specialty.”

Eric smirked, pleased. “See? Even you need me sometimes.”

Andrew chuckled and let him have his moment of pride.

Eric’s Phantom Mirage activated, ripples swirling in his eyes.

The leader stiffened, then his gaze went hollow, vacant.

“Go ahead and ask!” Eric glanced at Andrew, signaling that Andrew could begin questioning.

Andrew looked at the already controlled man and asked, “What’s your name?”