Finley silently cursed his hotheaded men. In Jayrodale, Andrew had become a powerful figure with both Dylan and Natasha at his beck and call. With thousands of underground enforcers present, anyone reckless enough to start trouble would be hacked to pieces. He sighed deeply, recalling his younger days when he had been just as cocky. Back then, fresh from Hidden Dragons, he thought he could take on anyone and anything. Nonetheless, after countless humiliations and close calls in Jayrodale, Finley had learned the harshness of reality. The beatdowns, betrayals, and lures of the underworld had drained his fighting spirit. Recently, he had even sought help from a therapist. "Stay put. Today, we're just here to watch," he muttered, downing his drink. "Right now, Andrew isn't someone we can handle. But don't worry, plenty of others want him gone." The Hidden Dragons' enforcers exchanged uneasy glances. They could not believe how much Finley had changed. He used to be a ruthless tyran

Holy! It's a whole platter of solid gold bars. Madblade Martial Academy sure knows how to make a statement!" "Seriously, how much would all that gold be worth? Must be at least a few million dollars." "Are they really trying to cozy up to Moonlit Apothecary that hard?" The extravagant gift had everyone buzzing. Even Francesca and Lauren were momentarily stunned. "Mr. Sanford, this is way too much. You're just here for a meal. There's no need for such a grand gesture. Please, take it back," Francesca said, extending the tray toward Rodney. While she was pleased with Andrew receiving gifts, this level of generosity was overwhelming. Her kind-hearted nature made her feel awkward accepting so much gold. Rodney waved it off with a smile. "Ms. Aicker, please, just accept it for Dr. Lloyd's sake. It's really not that much." There was no way Rodney intended to take back the gift. However, his grand gesture was not just about generosity—it had a deeper motive. Though Madblade Ma

Lauren raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Who else? You're not seriously going to ask Mr. Thatcher for money, are you, Dr. Lloyd?" Andrew grinned and gestured toward the corner where Finley sat sulking. "Not Mr. Thatcher. It's our good friend, Mr. Moore. His uncle's the leader of Hidden Dragons, so he's got deep pockets." The mention of Finley made Lauren and Francesca's eyes sparkle with anticipation. If anyone was perfect for fleecing, it was that unlucky fool. With playful determination, the two women followed Andrew, their heels clicking with purpose as they headed straight for Finley. Finley was busy drowning his sorrows in liquor when he noticed someone standing beside him. He frowned in irritation. "What now? Can't a guy drink in peace? Beat it!" Andrew chuckled softly. "Drink all you want, Mr. Moore, but how about paying your tab first?" Finley froze for a moment before his face twisted in disbelief. He looked up and saw Andrew standing there, smiling casually. His eyes

Finley crossed his arms, sneering. "Sorry, Andrew, but if you want more, tough luck! We're out of cash. If you're that desperate, go rob a bank." He was not broke, but he had limits. He would not be bullied into emptying his wallet just for this. Andrew raised an eyebrow and replied calmly, "Mr. Moore, don't push me." Finley snapped, "Push you? You're the one pushing me!" He was in disbelief at how shameless Andrew was. Andrew simply smiled. "No worries. You can pay by card, or maybe Venmo or PayPal?" Finley's temper exploded. "Andrew, don't test me! You've got some nerve." Ignoring his outburst, Andrew continued casually, "And if you're low on funds, no problem! You can always take out a quick loan. I'll wait." Finley's hands trembled in fury, his eyes blazing red with barely restrained rage. He had never been so publicly humiliated. Meanwhile, his Hidden Dragons crew watched in stunned disbelief. "Damn… Mr. Moore wasn't exaggerating," one muttered. "This Andrew guy

Andrew sighed dramatically. "I can't believe it. You have a Hidden Dragons boss as your uncle, yet you can't even manage 50 million. Fine, I'll lower it to 30 million." "30 million? Forget it! If you're going to keep pushing, then do it. I'd rather risk my life!" Finley snapped. Andrew chuckled. "Alright, alright, you look like you're about to pass out. Let's settle on five million. Honestly, you're the poorest and stingiest of all the guests today, Mr. Moore." In the end, after some intense back-and-forth, Finley begrudgingly transferred five million to Andrew. He stared at his phone screen, watching his balance drop, and felt his heart bleed. Five million gone over a single simple banquet—it was a humiliation he could not swallow. The moment the transfer came through, Francesca promptly confiscated it. "This isn't some secret fund, Andrew. It's part of the collection, so I'll keep it for proper accounting," Francesca said with a playful grin. "You're not getting it back!