The Forgotten Heir's Payback

Chapter 16: The Iron Fist

The five masked hitmen laughed loudly as rain poured down around them. They thought Lucas was a helpless boy trapped in a narrow trap. The leader swung his heavy iron pipe in the air, his eyes full of cruel joy.

"Hit his legs first!" the leader yelled to his men. "Make him drop to his knees!"

The first hitman charged forward like a wild animal. He raised a thick wooden club above his head and brought it down hard, aiming directly for Lucas skull.

Lucas did not flinch. He did not step back. In one smooth motion, he stepped to the left, letting the heavy club smash uselessly into the wet ground. Before the attacker could pull his weapon back, Lucas reached out, grabbed the man wrist, and twisted it sharply.

SNAP!

The hitman screamed in pure agony as his bone cracked under Lucas grip. Lucas drove a quick, powerful palm strike right into the man chest. The attacker flew backward three feet and crashed onto the wet concrete, unconscious before his body hit the mud.

The other four hitmen stopped dead in their tracks, their big eyes wide with terror behind their cloth masks.

"What are you waiting for?" the leader shrieked, his voice trembling with sudden fear. "Attack him together! He is just one man!"

The remaining three thugs charged at the same time from three sides. Two men swung iron pipes toward Lucas ribs, while the third lunged forward with a long steel knife.

Lucas moved like a shadow in the dark storm. He ducked under the first pipe, grabbed the second thug arm, and pulled him directly into the path of the swinging knife. The knife sliced through the thug coat, making him howl in pain.

Lucas did not give them a single second to recover. He delivered a fast, heavy kick straight to the knife wielder knee.

CRACK!

The knee joint bent backward, and the hitman dropped to the mud, clutching his leg and weeping out loud. Lucas turned on his heel, drove an elbow into the third thug jaw, and knocked him out cold on the spot.

It had not even been one minute since the fight started. Three large men were already lying broken on the ground, groaning in deep pain.

The fourth thug dropped his iron pipe with a loud clatter and turned around to run away into the dark alley. Lucas picked up a heavy stone from the ground and flicked his wrist. The stone flew through the air like a bullet, hitting the running thug right behind his neck. The man dropped face first into a dirty puddle and stopped moving.

Now, only the leader was left standing.

The leader held his iron pipe with two shaking hands, sweat mixing with rain on his pale face. He backed away slowly until his spine hit the brick wall of the abandoned warehouse. He could not believe what his eyes had just seen.

During his three years of living as a stay at home husband, Lucas had cooked and cleaned every day. But before he ever met his grandfather, he had spent five hard years training under the top underground martial masters of the country. He was not just a billionaire; he was a human weapon.

Lucas walked forward slowly, his shoes making quiet tapping sounds against the wet stones. He stopped two feet away from the leader, looking at him with calm, freezing eyes.

"Who sent you?" Lucas asked softly, his voice completely steady.

"Go to hell!" the leader screamed in panic, swinging his iron pipe with all the strength left in his arms.

Lucas did not even dodge. He caught the cold iron pipe with his bare right hand, stopping the heavy weapon dead in mid air.

The leader gasped in utter horror, trying to pull the pipe back, but Lucas grip was like a steel vise.

Lucas twisted his wrist. The iron pipe bent out of shape, and Lucas drove a short, powerful punch straight into the leader stomach.

Oof!

The leader dropped the pipe, his eyes bulging as all the air was knocked out of his lungs. He fell to his knees in the cold mud, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

Lucas reached down, grabbed the leader right arm, and bent his thumb backward with a firm press.

SNAP!

"ARRGH!" the leader shrieked at the top of his lungs, tears spilling down his face. "Stop! Stop! I will talk! I will tell you everything!"

"Speak," Lucas ordered coldly, standing over him like a judge.

"It was Julian Sterling!" the leader sobbed out, shaking like a leaf in the wind. "He gave two million dollars to Black Snake an hour ago! He told us to break your legs, steal your dragon ring, and kill you in this alley!"

Lucas pulled out his clean handkerchief and wiped a small drop of rainwater from his cheek. He reached into the leader wet jacket pocket and pulled out the man smartphone.

Lucas unlocked the phone using the leader trembling thumb, dialed Julian private phone number, and hit the speaker button.

The phone rang twice before Julian picked up. Julian voice sounded excited, wild, and eager over the speaker.

"Is it done?" Julian asked loudly, laughing in the dark room. "Is that stay at home beggar dead yet? Did you break his legs?"

Lucas held the phone down near the leader mouth.

"Speak into the phone," Lucas commanded quietly.

The leader wept loudly into the speaker. "Julian, you bastard! You tricked us! Lucas is a monster! He broke my arm and destroyed all my men in one minute! He knows everything!"

Silence fell over the line. Julian frantic laughing stopped instantly. Over the phone speaker, Julian rapid, terrified breathing could be heard clearly.

Lucas brought the phone up to his own lips, his voice dropping like liquid ice into the speaker.

"Julian," Lucas said smoothly. "I warned you at the bank, but you refused to listen. You brought street trash to my doorstep. Now, sit in your house and wait for my return gift."

Lucas squeezed his hand tightly, crushing the smartphone into broken plastic and wire before tossing it into the mud.

A black van pulled into the alley three seconds later. Butler Thomas and four executive guards stepped out, bowing deeply to Lucas.

"Young Master," Thomas said politely, handing Lucas a clean towel. "Shall we call the police to arrest Black Snake?"

"Black Snake can wait until morning," Lucas replied, drying his hands. "Load these five hitmen into the back of the van."

Thomas smiled sharp and cold. "Where should we drop them, Young Master?"

Lucas looked toward the direction of the rich district where the Sterling family lived. A dark, ruthless smile touched his lips.

"Take them to the Sterling estate," Lucas commanded quietly. "Dump all five of them on Richard Sterling front lawn, and pin a written warning right onto Julian sports car."