The Untouchable Derek Cross

chapter 9

Adrian stared at Derek for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed. It was a cold, cruel laugh that sent chills down spines.

"Kid. Do you have any fucking idea who you're talking to? I'm Adrian Freeman. The Lin family owns this city. We decide who lives and who disappears."

His smile vanished, replaced by something vicious.

"Today, I'm going to break every bone in your body. Slowly. Then I'm going to make you crawl out of here on your belly like the worm you are. Through my legs. While everyone watches and laughs."

At that moment he gestured casually to the old man beside him.

"Master James. Break his legs first. Make it hurt."

Immediately Master James stepped forward, his face expressionless, his movements precise and controlled. "A trivial task. This arrogant child will be crippled in five seconds."

He took one step forward and casually kicked a solid wooden table.

CRASH!

The table exploded into pieces, shards of wood flying across the room. The crowd gasped.

"Such terrifying power."

"That table was solid oak."

Master James charged Derek, his body moving with the speed and grace of a veteran fighter. His fist shot forward, the air whistling around it. Despite his thin frame, the power behind his punch was immense—easily seven to eight hundred pounds of force.

Enough to shatter bones. Rupture organs. Kill.

Derek stood still. Expressionless. Almost lazy.

Then he raised his fist and punched out casually, like swatting a fly.

Master James sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Foolish boy. Trying to match strength with me directly? You're courting death—”

His words cut off abruptly.

CRACK!

Master James eyes went wide with shock and agony. His entire arm went numb. Pain exploded through his shoulder. He staggered backward three steps, his face pale, his arm trembling uncontrollably.

"What... what is this strength?"

"Impossible. He's just a young man. How—"

“You... you—”

“Me what? are you Surprised. ”

Derek's voice was cold, dismissive.

His leg shot out faster than anyone could see.

His boot connected with Master Yue's chest with devastating force.

The old master's body flew backward like a ragdoll, sailing through the air. He crashed through a decorative screen, shattered a glass display case, and slammed into the wall. He crumpled to the floor, coughed up a massive gush of blood, and went completely limp.

Unconscious. Or dead. No one could tell.

The ball fell into absolute silence. Not a single sound. Not a breath. Not a heartbeat.

Master James... defeated? In one exchange?

"Impossible."

"He's a legendary martial artist."

"He's trained for forty years, how can he lose like that."

"And he lost in one move?"

Eyes filled with disbelief. Shock. Terror.

Derek's voice cut through the silence, calm and deliberate. “Today, Nathan Morrison's limbs are mine. I'm taking them. Who else wants to try and stop me?”

Immediately Adrian's face turned ashen. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. But he didn't step forward. He didn't dare. Fear flickered in his eyes for just a moment before he hid it.

His gaze shifted desperately to the young man beside him.

The young man Marcus slowly lifted his eyelids, staring at Derek with a mixture of boredom and arrogance. He spoke after a few seconds, his tone bland, dismissive.

“Do me a favor. Apologize to everyone here. Kowtow three times. Then crawl out and I might let you keep your life.”

Derek's voice was indifferent, almost amused. “And if I don't grant this favor?”

Marcus let out a cold laugh, his tone turning sharp and chilling. "Do you know who I am, you ignorant peasant? My father is Charles Logan. The Chief of Police of Riverstone City. With one word from me, I could have five hundred armed officers surround this building. Five hundred guns pointed at your skull. Do you think you're bulletproof? Do you think you can fly?"

The crowd's eyes sharpened. Whispers spread like wildfire.

"That's Charles Logan's son?"

"The Chief of Police?"

"Adrian has connections with him?"

"This changes everything."

"No one can stand against government power."

Wealthy families had influence, but it was limited. But Charles Logan? He had the full weight of the state behind him. The law. The military. The government itself.

Who could challenge that?

“Charles Logan?”

Derek suddenly laughed. It was a genuine, amused laugh that confused everyone.

“Charles Logan. The man who knelt in front of me two months ago, begging me to save his dying mother. The man who offered me everything he had. Who called me "benefactor" with tears in his eyes."

"His father is humble and wise. But his son? His son is an arrogant, spoiled piece of trash."

Derek's laughter faded. His expression turned cold, his voice dropping to something dangerous.

“Even if Charles Logan himself walked through that door right now, he wouldn't dare threaten me. He knows better. But you? You're nothing but a spoiled child playing with daddy's power. I respect your father because he's earned it. But you?”

Derek's eyes narrowed.

“You're an insect. I'm giving you one chance. Turn around. Walk out that door. And never let me see your face again.”

The room erupted in shocked whispers.

"Mad. He's completely insane."

"He just threatened the Chief of Police's son."

"He's signing his own death warrant."

Marcus's face twisted with rage and humiliation. His hands shook. "Very well. Very well! I want to see just how arrogant you can be when you're in handcuffs! You just wait! You're finished!"

Richard Morrison slammed his hand on the table and stood, his voice cold and triumphant. "Young Master, don't worry. The moment this criminal started his rampage, I had someone call your father directly. Chief Charles is already on his way here with his men. This bastard won't escape tonight. He'll rot in prison for the rest of his miserable life."

No sooner had he finished speaking.

"THUD. THUD. THUD."

A series of heavy, uniform footsteps echoed through the hall, rhythmic and ominous. The floor trembled with each step. The sound grew louder, closer.

The grand doors burst open with tremendous force.

A squadron of uniformed police officers poured into the ballroom like a flood. Twenty. Thirty. Forty. More. They fanned out with military precision, forming a perimeter, cutting off all exits. Armed. Stern-faced. Radiating authority and power.

The guests screamed, scrambling backward, pressing themselves against the walls.

And then he entered.

Charles.

Chief of Police of Riverstone City.

His face was stern, his expression severe. His presence was overwhelming, commanding instant respect and fear. His eyes swept across the chaotic scene the broken bodies, the blood, the destruction.

His voice boomed through the room like thunder.

“Who dares to commit such brazen violence here? Who dares to act so lawlessly in my city?”

His face was stern, his expression severe. His presence was overwhelming, commanding instant respect and fear. His eyes swept across the chaotic scene the broken bodies, the blood, the destruction.

His voice boomed through the room like thunder.

“Who dares to commit such brazen violence here? Who dares to act so lawlessly in my city?”