Future Masters in Modern Times

Chapter 33: Bullying Their Way In

“I’m afraid that’s out of the question, Jacks. This is the life’s work of several generations of our family—I simply can’t hand it over to you. Don’t you see?” Garcia glanced at the men Jacks had brought with him. They all looked menacing, striking fear into his heart, so he spoke to Jacks cautiously. With a “clatter,” Jacks knocked over the cup on the table and slammed his fist down hard on the tabletop. “I’m doing you a favor by calling you ‘buddy,’ but you can’t keep stringing me along like this! The first time I came, you said you needed to think it over, and I said fine, no problem. The second time, you still said you hadn’t made up your mind, and I still gave you time. But you can’t keep doing this over and over again. Do you think I’m a pushover?” Jacks seemed like a completely different person; he was now incredibly aggressive. “Since you’re being so disrespectful, don’t blame me for what happens next.” Jacks let out a sinister laugh and glared coldly at Garcia. Garcia’s repeated concessions had led Jacks to conclude that he was an easy target. Jacks pointed at the tavern’s furnishings, gritted his teeth, and roared, “Smash it all! Let’s see if he agrees now. He’s a total scumbag—he’s been given a chance but refuses to take it. Well, I’ll tear his face right off! Once this place is in ruins, let’s see how he runs his business!” Hearing this, the thugs swarmed forward, using their hands and feet to start smashing up the tavern. Garcia’s expression had shifted from fear to confusion to anger. He suddenly jerked his head up from where it had been bowed. “Why? This tavern is mine. I don’t want to buy it—what right do you have to force me?” When Jacks heard Garcia’s words spoken in anger, he actually laughed. Now that the mask was off, he saw no need to hide anything anymore. “You really are naive. I’ve simply set my sights on your tavern. What are you going to do about it? Since I’ve decided I want it, you’d better call him out here. I was going to spare you some face earlier, but since you don’t know when to back down, I’ll have to take a harder line.” After laughing, Garcia’s tone turned harsh. “Keep smashing it. Smash it hard.” “Stop it.” Garcia rushed forward and blocked a thug who was about to smash a cabinet, panting heavily as he glared at them. “You old geezer, you actually dare to stop me?” The thug kicked Garcia to the ground and stepped forward to continue smashing the cabinet. “Don’t hit me, don’t hit me, I beg you.” Garcia lay on the ground, clinging desperately to the thug’s leg, pleading incessantly. But the thug, who was used to being pampered by the principal, only grew more arrogant when he saw Garcia showing such weakness. He shook his leg, but when he realized he couldn’t shake him off, he started lashing out with both hands and feet, raining blows down on Garcia’s head. “Stop it! Stop hitting my dad!” An angry voice rang out. Everyone looked up to see a young girl storming down the stairs, shouting at them. It was Vanessa. She’d been watching from upstairs as these thugs laid hands on her father, and she simply couldn’t stand it anymore, so she stormed downstairs. “Oh, isn’t this our lovely Vanessa? What’s the matter? Don’t want to see your dad get beaten up? Then go talk some sense into him. Actually, I didn’t really want to hit him, but he really is… Ah, never mind. You go talk to him!” Jacks said to Vanessa with a “kind” expression. Vanessa glared at Jacks, her eyes fixed on him, her lips tightly pressed together in defiance. She stood there for a long time without saying a word. Jacks grew impatient, and a flash of anger flickered in his eyes. “Keep smashing it. If they dare to stop you, beat them up too,” Jacks ordered coldly. A look of madness and excitement once again flashed across the thugs’ faces; whenever they ran amok in someone else’s home, they always felt a sense of unbridled exhilaration. The thugs raised their fists… Garcia closed her eyes tightly, clenched her fists, and felt a deep sense of helplessness wash over her. Vanessa’s eyes welled up with tears, as if protesting everything unfolding before her. “Stop.” The voice seemed to possess a special power. The thugs all stopped in their tracks, looking toward the source of the voice with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. Vanessa wiped away her tears, and Garcia, who had kept his head bowed, looked up. The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs was slow and incredibly deep. Jacks looked over and saw a well-built, unremarkable-looking Asian man descending the stairs, his gaze carrying a hint of coldness. It was Zhao Wuji. Garcia’s eyes lit up, only to dim again. What good would his arrival do? Only Vanessa’s eyes still held a glimmer of hope, waiting for some miracle to happen. “Who are you?” Jacks asked, lifting his chin. “Aren’t you the ones looking to take over this bar? Garcia has already sold it to me—I’m the one you’re looking for.” Zhao Wuji’s voice rang out with conviction, enunciating each word clearly. Garcia was utterly taken aback at first, then felt a mixture of emotion—a blend of gratitude and guilt—that left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was moved that Zhao Wuji had stepped forward at this critical moment, and felt guilty for having dragged Zhao Wuji into this dangerous situation. “Garcia, is what he’s saying true?” Jacks whipped his head around, his gaze piercing toward Garcia. A chill ran down Garcia’s spine, and he felt at a loss. Just as his gaze wandered, shifting restlessly, he sensed Zhao Wuji’s eyes fixed on him. What a look that was! Just one glance seemed to instill endless confidence in Garcia. Garcia straightened his posture, standing tall and upright. Jacks felt a pang of confusion. “Garcia is typically timid and avoids trouble—why is he acting this way now? Could it be because of that man?” Jacks turned his gaze toward Zhao Wuji, but no matter how he looked at him, Zhao Wuji seemed perfectly ordinary. “Hmph, he’s nothing more than a merchant at best. What’s he so cocky about? I’ll make him wish he were dead in a moment.” “That’s right, I sold the tavern to this gentleman.” For the first time, Garcia spoke with such a resonant, powerful voice that he instantly felt as though he’d wasted the past few decades of his life. “Oh.” Doubt filled Jacks’ eyes, but he had no evidence to the contrary. He walked toward Zhao Wuji with a cold smile, and when he reached Garcia, he snorted lightly and shoved him aside. Jacks was very tall; when he stood before Zhao Wuji, he towered over him by a full head. “It really feels good to look down on someone,” Jacks thought smugly as he looked down at Zhao Wuji. “You bought this bar?” Jacks cast a casual glance at Zhao Wuji, not taking him seriously in the slightest. “That’s right.” Even without resorting to violence, Zhao Wuji’s presence alone outshone anyone else’s. Seeing Zhao Wuji’s domineering demeanor, a flicker of anger stirred within Jacks. “Who do you think you are? What’s with the attitude?” Jacks hooked his finger at a small-time thug, signaling him to bring over the contract on the table. Once the contract was brought over, Jacks waved it in front of Zhao Wuji’s face. “See that? This is the contract. Sign it, and I won’t make things difficult for you.” Zhao Wuji looked at the contract before him, his expression calm. He took it without even glancing at it. “Why should I?” Jacks burst into a boisterous laugh. “Why?” Jacks took a step forward, closing in on Zhao Wuji, and jabbed his index finger against Zhao Wuji’s chest. “I tell you to sign, so you sign. You have no right to ask why. All you need to know is that if you don’t sign, you’ll die a horrible death. Got it, yellow-skinned monkey?” Jacks’ voice grew lower as he spoke, but anyone could hear the arrogance and boundless audacity in his tone. “Then there’s nothing more to say.” Zhao Wuji shook the contract in his hand, tore it to shreds in a few swift motions, and scattered the fragments all over Jacks’s hair. “You beast, you beast!” Jacks leaped to his feet like a raging lion. He was used to being the one who bullied others—when had anyone ever dared to run roughshod over him? “Beat him! It doesn’t matter if you maim him or kill him!” Jacks roared the words, his eyes turning bloodshot in that brief instant. The thugs naturally swarmed forward in a frenzy; with Jacks humiliated, they were determined to exact brutal revenge. No consequences for killing or maiming someone? The thugs all felt a surge of excitement. Little did they know that Zhao Wuji had been waiting for this very moment. Vanessa closed her eyes, and so did Jacks. They didn’t dare watch the gruesome sight of Zhao Wuji being beaten. Jacks watched the scene unfold with cold cruelty; he intended to make this yellow-skinned monkey understand just how miserable the consequences of crossing him would be. At this thought, he felt an uncontrollable thrill. Zhao Wuji’s expression remained calm, as if he were facing not a pack of vicious thugs lunging at him, but a flock of gentle, harmless sheep. But in the eyes of those present, Zhao Wuji had, in fact, become a sheep surrounded by hungry wolves. Eight thugs surged forward, cutting off all of Zhao Wuji’s escape routes, and then the fists and kicks began to rain down on him. No one noticed the fleeting look of contempt in Zhao Wuji’s eyes. In the blink of an eye, Zhao Wuji moved. With his hands behind his back, he unleashed a series of kicks. A circular trail of afterimages appeared, and one by one, the thugs were violently slammed into the tavern wall as if they were paintings hanging there. “Thud… thud… thud…” After being slammed into the wall, the thugs slowly slid down and collapsed in the corner, their fates unknown. Jacks was stunned—the situation seemed to have turned around far too quickly! He was petrified. Vanessa and her father, Garcia, were both in disbelief. This seemingly ordinary man before them was so formidable—he simply couldn’t be described as an ordinary person. After doing all this, Zhao Wuji slowly walked toward Jacks. “Don’t—don’t come any closer,” Jacks stammered, backing away rapidly; everything that had just happened had left him petrified. Every time Zhao Wuji took a step forward, he took a step back, until he had nowhere left to retreat. Zhao Wuji swung his fist, but Jacks screamed, “Stop! Stop! Aleks won’t let you get away with this!” “Huh, him again.” Mid-swing, Zhao Wuji halted his movement, his fist freezing a half-inch from Aleks’s nose. Jacks felt a stinging gust of air from the fist sweep past his face; terrified, cold sweat poured down his forehead, and he closed his eyes. But he didn’t feel Zhao Wuji’s fist land. When he tentatively peeked up, he saw Zhao Wuji looking deep in thought, somewhat distracted. A flash of ferocity flickered in Jacks’ eyes as he suddenly drew his pistol and fired at Zhao Wuji. “Die!” “Hm?” Zhao Wuji glanced up, and his right hand grabbed Jacks’s hand like lightning, lifting it slightly upward. “Ah!” Jacks let out a blood-curdling scream as the bullet struck his right ear, leaving only a small piece of it hanging, dripping with bright red blood. He had narrowly escaped death—was it luck, or was Zhao Wuji simply that skilled? None of that mattered anymore. The entire tavern was now filled with nothing but his bloodcurdling roar. Zhao Wuji furrowed his brow, clenched his large hand around Jacks entire hand, and gave it a sharp twist. “Crack… crack…” The sound of his hand bones shattering filled the air. “Mmm… mmm…” Jacks trembled, no longer daring to scream. He simply bit down hard on his lip with his teeth, blood flowing continuously from the wound he’d bitten open. “I won’t kill you—take me to Aleks,” Zhao Wuji said calmly.