Luna explained, "The man told me he just hoped I could be happy every single day. He also said he knew my mentor and that the very next day, my mentor wouldn't be as strict with me anymore. He said pretty girls should be cherished and cared for, not pushed to exhaustion." She paused, a sweet smile blooming across her face. "Grandpa, can you guess what happened next? The next day at camp, my mentor came over and told me I could have three days off. And from then on, he allowed my training to be lighter and less punishing. "My mentor even asked me about my relationship with the Lloyds' heir. He warned me to stay away from him, or else I'd eventually fall into his trap and be completely devoured. Of course, I could tell he was teasing me. "Back then, in Chetvine's military command and across all departments, almost everyone admired or supported the Lloyds' heir. My mentor was General Philip Turman, a pillar of Holtrien, someone who never softened his words for anyone. "Yet when

Henry hissed, "But the spoils from the Driscolls' fall should have belonged to the Fischer family, not taken by someone else! Lucian, you should be explaining yourself to the family elders!" Lucian remained calm. "Don't worry. I've already offered my self-criticism and even requested to step down as acting head of the family. But that's just for formality. You know as well as I do, the Fischer family needs me. Besides me, who else could take the patriarch's seat? No one is qualified!" His steady expression shifted into one of ruthless arrogance, the air of a man who knew he was untouchable. When it came to cruelty and calculation, he was even more frightening than Henry. That was why, when the two brothers vied for dominance, Lucian ended up controlling the family's core while Henry was forced to manage external affairs. Henry demanded, "So what now, Lucian? Are you just going to stand by and watch Andrew rise in Gabo Creek?" Lucian's tone was flat. "Every man shows his han

The big guy on the left snorted coldly, "Get lost, our boss doesn't meet with strangers." Eric crossed his arms and struck a cocky pose. "I'm not a stranger. Anyone in Goldridge who doesn't know my name hasn't been born yet. Go inside and announce my arrival right now." This time, the big guy on the right spoke rudely, "Eric Humphrey? Sorry, but I've really never heard that name before. Pretty boy, we don't care how you got here. But if you don't get lost now, you'll be spitting your own teeth and blood next." Being blocked repeatedly, Eric's patience was nearly exhausted. The main issue was that this was too damn embarrassing. He used to be a big shot in Goldridge, the adopted son of the Southern Martial Union's leader, a household name and genius in Goldridge. But today, for some unknown reason, no one was giving him face or even claiming to know him. With Andrew watching from the side, Eric really felt this was too damn humiliating. Holding his breath, Eric's fists crac

"Since you say you're not connected to Mr. Lloyd, then I'm sorry… I don't do business with you," Jack said flatly. Eric nearly exploded. "The hell is wrong with you? Do you not know who I am? I'm Eric Humphrey! I used to run Goldridge!" Jack sneered. "That was when Mr. Thornton was alive. Back then, sure, you had influence. But now the Southern Martial Union is under the McCormicks. The man in charge isn't Mr. Thornton anymore; it's the McCormicks. So let's be real… You're nothing but a stray dog." Jack leaned forward, his voice dripping with contempt. "Everyone in Goldridge's upper circle knows you're trash, colluding with Henry, that power-hungry snake. I called you 'Mr. Humphrey' out of courtesy. Otherwise, I could have you thrown out in seconds." At his cold snort, the curtain behind his sofa snapped open, and dozens of assault rifles suddenly aimed at Eric. Eric froze, his face locked in place. Rage burned through him, mixed with humiliation so sharp it was unbearable.

The thug answered in a flat tone. "Billy Bob." Andrew nodded. "Nice name. Next question: Can you get inside the Majestic Hotel?" Billy replied, "Yes. I'm the one who delivers meals to the VIPs inside." Andrew smiled. "Good. Then you'll take us in with you on your next delivery." However, Billy shook his head. "Not now. The VIPs don't eat until six in the morning." Andrew glanced at his watch, noticing they had three hours to go. "Fine. Then we'll wait until six and go in with him." Eric lined up the rest of the Blues' lackeys and used his Phantom Mirage, mesmerizing them one by one until they all stood with glassy eyes. Grinning wickedly, he ordered, "You, strip him and penetrate him in the ass!" A grotesque scene followed, and Andrew grimaced. "Seriously? We've been up all night, and you can't just rest? You have to waste energy on this crap?" Andrew asked, frowning. Eric's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Don't you get it? This is the fun of Phantom Mirage. Con