The Dead Useless Fisherman Returns as the Untouchable

Chapter 5: Fragments of memory

Marcus finally made his decision and refused to accept Andrew’s demands. He was still thoroughly annoyed with Victoria for pushing his hand away and ignoring him earlier to plead with her former husband, but he planned to settle that private score with her later in private. Right now, he needed to crush this beggar’s arrogance.

​Stepping squarely in front of Victoria, Marcus let out a loud, mocking laugh that echoed off the high marble walls of the dining hall.

​“You really think you can stand here and issue orders to us?” Marcus sneered, looking down his nose with pure condescension. “You think a filthy dock rat like you can challenge the combined power of the Moore family and the prestigious Vance empire? You’re delusional, Andrew. We won’t give you a single penny. In fact, if you want your so-called savings and compensation so badly, why don't you try taking us to court? Let’s see what the law thinks of a penniless fisherman trying to shake down high society!”

​Andrew did not blink. A faint, icy calm settled over his features.

​“If that is your decision, then go ahead,” Andrew answered smoothly, his voice flat and unbothered. “Take it to court. I welcome it.”

​His total lack of fear only made Marcus angrier. Marcus had expected Andrew to tremble, beg, or back away like an obedient mutt. Seeing the man stand completely unshakeable made the veins in Marcus’s forehead throb with fury.

​Marcus’s lips twisted into a venomous smirk as a sudden thought struck him. “You think you’re brave because you managed to survive a dip in the river, don’t you? You think you have a fighting chance? Let me tell you something, Andrew. I know we have certain matters we’d rather keep private, but the easiest way to ensure an absolute, crushing victory is to hire someone invincible. To deal with a nuisance like you, I will make sure my family secures the Law God himself!”

​The mere mention of that legendary name caused a sharp intake of breath throughout the grand room.

​Victoria’s brother, Julian, frowned and tilted his head in confusion. “Wait, Marcus... the Law God? Isn't that the legendary legal genius who never lost a single case in his entire career? But he’s been missing for more than fifteen years! Nobody has seen a trace of him since then. Half the country believes he’s already dead!”

​“That’s where you’re wrong, Julian,” Marcus replied proudly, puffing out his chest as he looked around at the impressed faces of his parents and the Moores. “The public thinks he’s a ghost, but my father’s elite intelligence network just received highly classified reports. The Law God has officially returned to this very city! My family has the vast resources and political influence required to put him on our payroll. With the Law God representing us, Andrew, the case will be over before it even begins. You won’t just lose—you’ll be stripped of everything and thrown into a cell for the rest of your miserable life!”

​The name hit Andrew like an electric shock straight through his skull.

​The Law God.

​A sudden, sharp spike of pain pierced his temples. The voices in the grand hall instantly faded into a muffled hum as a blinding flash of memory erupted across his vision.

​He wasn't standing in a dining room smelling of perfume and roasted meats. He saw a massive, grand courtroom with towering wooden panels and an imposing judge's bench. He saw stacks of thick, classified legal briefs and ironclad evidentiary contracts spread neatly before him. He saw himself standing tall, wearing a flawless tailored suit, projecting an aura of complete, unshakeable confidence that silenced entire panels of seasoned prosecutors and crooked corporate tycoons. Across the aisle, his powerful opponents were trembling, wiping sweat from their pale foreheads under the weight of his undeniable arguments. In the background of his mind, the hushed, reverent whispers of spectators echoed clearly: It’s him... the undefeated one... the Law God!

​The image vanished as abruptly as it had arrived. Andrew blinked, his eyes refocusing on the chandelier above.

​A cold sweat pricked his nape. Ever since he had woken up from his comatose state six months ago, these strange, vivid fragments of memory kept flashing through his thoughts. He had already seen glimpses of soldiers saluting him as their Supreme Commander, and now this sudden flash of a courtroom. It was all inextricably tied to the grand, forgotten life that had been violently erased from him fifteen years ago.

​Andrew stood silently, trying to steady his breathing. The overwhelming familiarity of the title unsettled him deeply. After living for fifteen long, agonizing years as a nobody—an abused, dirt-poor fisherman who took kicks and slaps just to keep food on the table—he was still struggling to piece together the immense titan he had once been. His loyal subordinates had only managed to tell him parts of his forgotten history, leaving large voids in his past.

​Marcus noticed Andrew’s sudden stillness and silence. A wide, arrogant grin spread across Marcus's face, completely mistaking the man’s deep contemplation for paralyzing dread.

​“What’s the matter, Andrew?” Marcus laughed aloud, taunting him cruelly. “Cat got your tongue? Are your legs shaking now that you realize who you’re up against? You’re finally realizing your place in this world, aren’t you?”

​Andrew slowly raised his head. His eyes locked onto Marcus, completely devoid of the fear Marcus so desperately wanted to see. Instead, Andrew’s lips curled into a faint, mocking sneer.

​“If you truly believe this lawyer can protect you from the crimes you’ve committed,” Andrew said calmly, his tone filled with pure, unyielding authority, “then by all means, bring him. Go hire him. I will not back down from this case.”

​Marcus’s smirk instantly vanished, replaced by an ugly scowl.

​Andrew didn't waste another second looking at him. He had said everything he came to say. Turning his back on the banquet table, he began walking toward the heavy double doors of the dining hall. The echoing click of his shoes sounded like a ticking countdown in the tense silence.

​Just before reaching the doorway, Andrew paused. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a plain white card with his contact information written across it, and tossed it onto an ornate side table near the exit.

​He turned his head slightly, casting one final, chilling glance back at Victoria and her frozen family.

​“I am leaving my contact details right there,” Andrew announced, his voice cutting through the heavy air with finality. “If you and your family come to your senses, return the savings you stole, and agree to settle the compensation I am owed, you know how to reach me. But if you choose to fight this instead, then I will see you in court. And when that day comes, I will ensure that every single debt, every missing cent, and every wrong you committed against me over the last fifteen years is paid back in full, down to the very last.”

​Without waiting for a reply, Andrew pushed open the heavy mahogany doors and walked out into the night, leaving the entire room suffocating under the weight of his departing words.