The Tyrant's Return : From Beggar to Sovereign

Chapter 19: The Clash in the Casino

The cold metal barrel of the heavy black pistol was pointed directly at Ethan’s heart. Marcus Vance had a wild, sweaty look in his eyes, his finger trembling violently against the curved steel trigger.

The rich heirs who were watching from the edge of the VIP lounge immediately screamed in terror, throwing themselves flat onto the plush red carpet. They did not want to be anywhere near the line of fire when the gun went off.

"I will blow a hole straight through your expensive suit, Ethan!" Marcus screamed, his voice cracking with pure madness. "You think you can take my money? You think you can take my houses and my cars? This is my casino! I make the rules here! Drop the bag of cash on the floor right now, or your sister won't be the only Vance dying this week!"

Ethan looked down at the dark hole of the gun barrel. His face did not change expression at all. He did not raise his hands in the air, and his breath did not speed up by a single beat. He just stared into Marcus’s bloodshot eyes with a deep, crushing silence that felt heavier than a mountain.

"You should never point a weapon at someone unless you actually have the guts to pull the trigger, Marcus," Ethan said softly. His voice was incredibly steady, echoing clearly through the terrified room.

"Shut up! Shut up!" Marcus roared, his knuckles turning completely white as he began to squeeze his finger against the metal trigger.

But Marcus was too slow, and his mind was too clouded by panic. To a master fighter like Ethan, Marcus’s movements were totally predictable.

Before Marcus could even pull the trigger by a single millimeter, Ethan’s right hand shot forward like a flash of blinding lightning. He did not dodge backward. He lunged directly across the green felt table, grabbing Marcus's right wrist with a grip that felt like a freezing steel clamp.

With a single, violent twist of his powerful forearm, Ethan bent Marcus’s hand upward at a horrific, unnatural angle.

*Crack!*

A loud, sickening sound of bone shattering echoed through the VIP lounge. Marcus let out a high pitched, agonizing shriek of pain that sounded like a dying animal.

The tight muscles in his fingers instantly lost all their power, and the heavy black pistol slipped out of his grasp. Before the gun could even hit the wooden table, Ethan used his left hand to snatch it out of the air with absolute, flawless precision.

Ethan pulled his hand back, releasing Marcus’s ruined arm. Marcus collapsed onto the green felt table, clutching his swollen, broken wrist against his chest, weeping and groaning in deep agony as thick sweat poured down his pale face.

Ethan stood there calmly, holding the heavy pistol in his right hand. With a quick, smooth movement of his fingers, he pressed the side button, popped the heavy ammunition magazine out of the bottom, and tossed the empty metal gun onto the table like a piece of useless trash.

"Your hand is broken, Marcus," Ethan said, looking down at the weeping man with total indifference. "Now, give me the glass vial."

"Guards! Guards!" Marcus screamed into the microphone attached to his collar, his voice filled with an insane, desperate rage. "Kill him! I don't care about the money anymore! Chop him into pieces and throw him into the river! Kill him right now!"

Suddenly, a loud, heavy rhythmic stomping sound filled the grand casino hall. The giant gold double doors at the side of the VIP lounge burst open, and twenty massive security guards rushed up the carpeted stairs. These were not regular mall watchmen.

They were professional underground bouncers, each one standing over six feet tall, dressed in thick tactical vests. They were carrying heavy, solid steel batons that gleamed dangerously under the bright crystal chandeliers.

"Surround him!" the lead guard yelled, waving his thick black baton through the air. "Don't let him leave this room alive!"

Within five seconds, the twenty large guards formed a tight, impenetrable circle around Ethan and Thomas. They raised their steel batons, their faces hard and brutal, completely blocking every single exit from the VIP section.

Thomas stepped closer to Ethan’s back, his old eyes narrowing as his hands slid inside his suit coat to reach for his own hidden defensive weapons. "Young Master, there are too many of them in this tight space. Let me call Captain Iron’s squad to breach the front entrance."

"No need, Thomas," Ethan said smoothly, not moving an inch. He stood right in the center of the hostile circle, his broad shoulders squared, his dark eyes calmly scanning the weapons in the guards' hands.

He was completely ready to use his bare fists to break every single baton and shatter every single limb in the room. He had forty-eight hours to save Lily, and twenty men with steel sticks were not going to stop him.

The lead guard took a deep breath, tightening his grip on his heavy baton. "Drop to your knees, kid, or we will break your skull open!"

The tension in the air was so thick that nobody dared to make a sound. The guards braced their heavy boots against the floor, ready to rush forward all at once and crush Ethan under a wave of brutal physical violence.

But right before the first steel baton could swing down toward Ethan’s head, a massive, explosive booming sound echoed from the very front of the casino hall.

*BANG!*

The heavy, reinforced wooden double doors of the main casino entrance were violently kicked open from the outside, the thick gold hinges ripping straight out of the wall. The sudden, deafening crash made every single guard stop in his tracks, turning their heads around in complete shock.

A tall, breathtakingly beautiful woman stepped through the ruined doorway. She was twenty-eight years old, with long, pitch-black hair that fell past her shoulders, and eyes as sharp and deadly as a silver blade.

She was wearing a stunning, blood-red trench coat made of expensive leather, and a pair of high black boots that clicked loudly against the marble floor.

Behind her stood fifty elite mercenaries dressed in full black armor, all carrying heavy tactical gear.

This was Cynthia Thorne. She was known across the entire state as the lethal, undisputed queen of the city's criminal underworld, a woman so powerful that even the mayor and the top police chiefs had to bow their heads when she walked past.

The heavy double doors are kicked open by Cynthia Thorne, the lethal queen of the city's criminal underworld.