Man From Another Wold

CHAPTER 5: AN UNEXPECTED INVITATION

Without warning, the five men lunged at Hansen.

However, before the first punch could land, Hansen vanished from their sight.

"What?!" one of the thugs exclaimed.

In an instant, Hansen reappeared behind him. With a light tap on the man’s shoulder—

Bugh!

The man staggered forward and fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if he had been struck by a sledgehammer. His breathing turned ragged, and his face paled.

"What just happened?!" another thug muttered, stepping back.

Hansen remained calm, blowing out a puff of smoke before speaking. "I wasn’t in the mood for a fight. But you had to ruin my peaceful afternoon."

Suddenly, one of the thugs swung a knife at him. Hansen casually sidestepped the attack, avoiding it effortlessly, then grabbed the man’s wrist.

Crack!

"Aaaargh!" the man screamed as his wrist twisted unnaturally, dislocating on the spot. The knife clattered to the ground.

The four remaining thugs hesitated, their confidence shaken. They had expected an easy fight, but within seconds, the situation had completely flipped.

"He's not an ordinary guy!" one of them whispered in fear.

Hansen glanced at them with a bored expression. "Still want to try?"

The five thugs exchanged nervous glances, cold sweat forming on their brows. They had come to teach Hansen a lesson, yet now they were the ones being taught.

"Damn it… let's retreat for now!" one of them whispered, and they all bolted away, unwilling to become the next victims.

Hansen smirked, exhaling another puff of smoke. "Idiots."

The two tattooed men who had brought him here stood frozen. One of them finally gathered enough courage to speak. "You… who the hell are you?"

Hansen glanced at him. "Just someone who doesn’t like being disturbed."

The tattooed man swallowed hard, then signaled for Hansen to follow him. "Come on, Mr. Laotaro is waiting."

Hansen gave a slight nod. He had no idea who this Mr. Laotaro was, but judging from how he operated, the man was clearly no ordinary figure.

---

They led Hansen to an exclusive nightclub hidden in the city’s center. Neon lights flickered at the entrance, and two massive bouncers stood guard, their expressions stoic.

Upon seeing the tattooed men escorting Hansen, the bouncers stepped aside without question, allowing them in.

Inside, the atmosphere was filled with music, laughter, and the pungent scent of alcohol. Beautiful women roamed between guests dressed in expensive suits, many of whom were influential businessmen and power players in the city.

"Follow me," the tattooed man said.

They navigated through the main hall and headed upstairs to a VIP lounge. When the door opened, Hansen saw a middle-aged man sitting on a plush sofa, a glass of red wine in his hand. His presence radiated authority, and his gaze was as sharp as a hawk’s.

"This is Mr. Laotaro," the tattooed man announced with a slight bow.

Mr. Laotaro eyed Hansen with a thin smile. "Hansen… you've caught my interest today."

Hansen remained standing, showing no fear or excessive respect. "Oh? And why should I care?"

Mr. Laotaro chuckled. "Bold. I like that." He took a sip of his wine before continuing, "I heard about what you did on the street earlier. You're not just an ordinary college student, are you?"

Hansen didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pulled out a chair and sat down without waiting for permission. "So, what do you want from me?"

Mr. Laotaro's eyes narrowed slightly, but his smile widened. "Straight to the point, huh? Fine. I want to offer you an opportunity."

Hansen raised an eyebrow. "What kind of opportunity?"

Mr. Laotaro set his glass down on the table and leaned back. "I run a business. A business that requires someone with your… talents. I can give you money, connections, and the power you need to survive in this world."

Hansen smirked. "Interesting. But before I decide, I need to know one thing."

"And what is that?"

Hansen locked eyes with Mr. Laotaro. "Who sent those men after me?"

The room fell silent. Mr. Laotaro’s eyes flickered briefly before he let out a quiet chuckle. "You're sharper than I expected."

He clapped his hands, and another man entered the room, carrying an envelope.

"Open it," Mr. Laotaro instructed.

Hansen took the envelope and pulled out a photograph. In it, he recognized one of the thugs from earlier—standing beside a familiar face.

"Oh. So, they were sent by Candra."

"If you agree to work for me, I’ll take care of him for you," Laotaro said.

"This is my problem. I don’t need anyone else’s hand in it."

"Candra isn’t just anyone. Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now, tell me about this business."

"I need you to heal someone. I’ll pay you five million dollars if you succeed. But if you fail, you’ll work under me as a servant for one year. How about it?"

"Isn’t that too cheap for such a risk?"

Mr. Laotaro chuckled, sipping his wine before replying, "At least you have confidence. But you should know, not many people can refuse my offers."

Hansen leaned back in his chair, his expression still calm. "I don’t take jobs with unfair rewards."

Mr. Laotaro studied him for a moment, then smirked. "Fine. I’ll raise it to ten million dollars if you succeed. But if you fail, you still work under me for a year. Deal?"

Hansen tapped his fingers on the table, contemplating before nodding. "Deal. Take me to the person I need to heal."

Mr. Laotaro’s smile widened. "Good. Follow me."

He stood up and signaled his men. Hansen followed behind as they left the VIP lounge.

Outside, a luxury car was already waiting for them. Hansen entered along with Mr. Laotaro, and the vehicle quickly drove off toward their destination.

"Who is it that I need to heal?" Hansen asked after a moment of silence.

Mr. Laotaro sighed, his expression shifting slightly. "My daughter."

Hansen glanced at him. "What's wrong with her?"

Mr. Laotaro shook his head. "Doctors don’t know for sure. Her body weakens day by day, as if something is draining her life force. I’ve tried everything, but nothing works."

Hansen narrowed his eyes. "Interesting."

A few minutes later, the car pulled up in front of a massive villa. Mr. Laotaro stepped out first, followed by Hansen. They entered the building, walking through a long corridor until they reached a room where a young girl lay in bed.

Her face was pale, her breathing weak, and her eyes remained shut as if in an endless slumber.

"Can you heal her?" Mr. Laotaro asked, his voice tinged with tension.

Hansen stepped closer and placed his fingers on the girl's wrist, feeling the flow of her energy. Within seconds, he realized something unusual.

"This isn’t an ordinary illness," he murmured.

Mr. Laotaro’s expression hardened. "What do you mean?"

Hansen smirked slightly. "Your daughter has been cursed."