Chapter 937

Andrew said, “But you’d better drop that thought… because the consequences will be brutal.”

Reuben froze for a second–then burst into loud, mocking laughter. “You’ve got some nerve, kid! Really putting on a show, huh? You clearly didn’t hear Phantom Eye the first time. I’m a guest elder of the Golding family in Blumedale, a semi-martial king! And you’re threatening me?”

To Reuben, Andrew was just some punk–someone he could crush with one hand if he wanted. He did not take him seriously in the slightest.

Phantom Eye chimed in from the side, “Reuben, if this kid’s acting this cocky, it probably means that crazy woman is still nearby. You might wanna hold off, or this could get ugly fast.”

Reuben snorted. “Even if she is, I’m not scared of her. As long as I grab this kid, I don’t believe she’d dare make a move.”

The words had barely left his mouth before he lunged forward, charging straight at Andrew.

A wicked grin spread across his face. “You walked right into this. Don’t blame me for what happens next!”

Natasha panicked. “Darling! Watch out!”

However, Andrew just stood at the cell doorway, completely unfazed as Reuben came barreling toward him. “I already told you that this was gonna end badly for you. Why don’t people ever listen?”

He casually shook his head, then raised his hand–and slapped Reuben across the face.

Just as Reuben got close, a monstrous wave of force slammed into him like a tsunami. He let out a startled growl, but it was too late to react.

He barely got his arms up to block when Andrew’s palm struck him head-on, then followed through with another blow straight to the head.

Reuben’s massive body slammed into the steel support pillar of the cell, warping the metal on impact. He crashed into it like a ragdoll, his head bursting open with a splatter of blood.

Andrew’s slap was not fancy, nor did it involve any flashy techniques or martial arts flair. It was just pure, raw power–concentrated into one brutal strike that landed with devastating force.

“You…” Reuben tried to move, but could not. He clutched his bleeding head, trembling as he stared at Andrew, speechless and terrified.

Andrew did not even spare him a glance as he turned and walked out of the cell.

“Bring him out,” he ordered calmly.

Natasha and Dylan moved in and dragged Reuben out without hesitation.

By now, Reuben was soaked in blood, especially around his head, where the wound hadn’t stopped gushing. He lay at Andrew’s feet, shivering in pure terror.

“Reuben? H–How did that happen?” Phantom Eye stood in shock, his brain struggling to process what he saw.

Reuben—the guy everyone feared–was now lying there, barely conscious. And the one who did it was just a young man.

Reuben barely managed to sit up, ignoring Phantom Eye and focusing all his attention on Andrew. “Y–You’ve gotta be a martial king, right? You have to be!”

He shouted the words with every ounce of strength he had left, his voice trembling with fear.

Andrew did not answer. However, Phantom Eye gasped sharply, ultimately losing his cool. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he stumbled backward into the corner of his cell, desperately trying to get away from the cell door.

He silently muttered, “A martial king? That punk is a freaking martial king? That’s impossible!”