Out Of Prison

Chapter 10: The Man Who Reads Faces

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Patrick Dunn was too stunned to speak.

Everyone behind him was equally stunned into silence.

Everyone except Veronica, whose eyes were practically lighting up with quiet joy.

The revival of their family was just around the corner.

Meanwhile, Michael Han, who had been slapped clean to the floor, instantly picked himself up. His face was carefully blank, carrying only a slight flush of shame as he looked at Trevor, doing his best to conceal the anger and embarrassment burning beneath the surface as he snorted.

"I was planning on going easy on you and didn't even use my martial arts properly. But since you have proven yourself to be somewhat capable, let me see how you handle my next punch!"

Hearing those words, Trevor couldn't help but sneer. "You? Deal with me? You don't even have any inner energy left. My guess is you spent it on a woman last night or something equally as useless. And from your posture and overall stance alone I can already tell your martial arts techniques are low to medium grade at best."

"I advise you to be a good dog and get lost."

Trevor finished his words without so much as blinking.

Hearing them, Michael Han was shaken to his core.

How did Trevor know he had spent the previous night with a woman and was currently weakened from a night of pleasure?

But of course, Michael Han — who had carefully maintained the public image of a man completely devoted to martial arts with no interest in any woman except Veronica — could not possibly accept such words being thrown at him openly. He immediately fired back.

"What are you talking about?! Stop spreading nonsense. Even if you are trying to win Veronica's heart, that is hardly a respectable way to go about it."

Trevor sneered upon hearing those words as if it was the funniest joke he had heard all evening.

"Respectable?" Trevor muttered with a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. "Tell me something, Michael Han. Aren't you currently suffering from pubic lice? It must be quite the ordeal standing here in front of everyone while desperately fighting the urge to scratch, isn't it?"

The moment those words landed, the entire audience erupted into stunned uproar as if they had just been made privy to something they were never supposed to hear.

Everyone who had been standing anywhere near Michael Han subconsciously took several large steps backward.

Even Veronica Winchester stared at Michael with wide eyes and barely concealed disgust. After all, they were not enemies — merely the sons and daughters of competing families all striving to push their respective households higher. She had shaken his hand on more than one occasion.

On top of that, Michael Han had always been known as a handsome martial arts prodigy who never associated himself with women or went anywhere near clubs.

But now, with that carefully constructed mask stripped away and his true face exposed before everyone present, all Veronica felt when she looked at him was pure disgust.

"You!" Michael's face turned a deep shade of red as if his blood vessels were on the verge of bursting. "How dare you spread filthy lies about me?! Are you truly that eager to die?!"

"Lies?" Trevor tilted his head slightly with a faint smile still sitting on his lips.

"Why don't you let those standing nearest to you smell your hand? And do you really think the signs aren't visible on your face? Look at your lips — there are small but noticeable sores forming at the corners. Those are consistent with contact with infected areas. And from what I can observe, your throat is likely feeling sore and irritated right about now, just like another place I won't mention in polite company. And the reason you haven't visited a hospital yet is because you are too ashamed to let anyone find out."

"You—!" Michael Han was visibly shaken. How had Trevor read every single detail of his condition with nothing more than a careful look at his face?

"Yes, you there, Trevor!" Patrick Dunn couldn't help but cut in, doing his best to appear reasonable and fair minded. "Don't go making up stories just to impress Miss Veronica. Sacrificing a smaller enemy to provoke a larger one is never a trade worth making!"

Hearing his words, everyone quickly snapped back to their senses.

Right. That was a fair point actually.

It was understandable that Trevor had picked up one or two fighting techniques during his time in prison — survival in there demanded nothing less. But medical knowledge? The ability to diagnose a man's private condition from a glance at his face?

That was clearly an act of desperation. He was obviously making things up.

Although doubt spread quickly through the crowd, Veronica on the other hand was staring at Trevor with eyes that practically screamed one thing.

We have a family treasure on our hands.

For Trevor to have effortlessly identified Michael's condition from a single focused glance meant he was already practicing a skill tied to the eyes — and a high level one at that. Physiognomy at that degree of precision was not something picked up casually. It took years of dedicated refinement under serious guidance.

Her grandfather had truly outdone himself this time.

"Like I care whether any of you believe my words or not." Trevor said with a calm shrug, already turning his attention elsewhere.