C40 Stealing

Just moments ago, Mr. Haris experienced Westley's dagger technique up close.

It was then he truly understood: there was always someone better.

The dagger skills he prided himself on were mere child's play compared to Westley's.

Westley's prowess could effortlessly overpower him!

Each of Westley's strikes seemed rehearsed to perfection. His mastery over force and precision was impeccable.

This transcended mere technique; it was akin to an art form!

Artistry at the edge of a blade!

What could possibly be Westley's story?

What kind of divine force had Ethan managed to provoke?

Westley paid no further attention to Mr. Haris, instead casting a chilling glance at Ethan.

That look sent a wave of cold terror through Ethan, making him involuntarily shudder.

What sort of terrifying gaze was that?

It spoke of solitude, arrogance, iciness, and ruthlessness...

Ethan vowed he never wanted to encounter that gaze again.

As Westley approached, Ethan desperately wanted to flee, but his feet were as if weighed down by lead, utterly immovable.

An unseen pressure seemed to suffocate him, as if the grim reaper himself was closing in.

Standing before Ethan, Westley reached inside his coat.

Ethan, mistaking the gesture for a threat, thought Westley was drawing a weapon and, panic-stricken, dropped to his knees.

"Mr. Jimenez, I was wrong, terribly wrong! Please, spare me!" Ethan pleaded pitifully, like a dog begging for mercy.

Westley paused, then withdrew his hand, not to reveal a weapon, but a pack of Red Tower Mountain cigarettes worth seven yuan.

Ethan's face twisted in an awkward grimace.

He had braced for death, yet Westley was merely reaching for a smoke?

This was an unexpected move.

Westley casually flicked out a cigarette and lit it.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke that wafted over Ethan's somewhat handsome face.

"Cough, cough, cough..."

Choking on the secondhand smoke, Ethan didn't dare to move, not even to rise from his knees.

Finally, after a long silence, Westley spoke indifferently, "You must hold a grudge for not getting your revenge, am I right?"

"I wouldn't dare, absolutely not," Ethan quickly gestured with his hands.

With Mr. Haris and his two companions down, how could he possibly cause any more trouble?

Revenge?

Out of the question!

He wouldn't entertain such thoughts in the face of overwhelming power.

"So, who's settling this bill?" Westley asked, his voice trailing off intentionally.

"Me!" Ethan's face was the picture of misery as he pulled a bank card from his pocket.

He couldn't possibly ask Mr. Haris and the others.

At least there was still some money left on his card.

His heart was bleeding, and he felt pain in every inch of his body.

Nearly two hundred thousand yuan gone. If only he hadn't set this trap for himself.

Taking the card, Westley grinned and said, "Thank you, Morris, for your generosity. Next time there's an opportunity like this, make sure to give me a call. I'll be there in a flash!"

Ethan was so furious he nearly spat out blood.

Westley was pushing it too far!

"Waiter, check please!"

Westley called out.

The waiter promptly entered, having been lurking outside for fear they'd skip out on the bill.

Upon seeing Mr. Haris and his crew sprawled on the floor, the waiter nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Don't worry, they just got a little competitive over who'd get to pay," Westley said, offering a casual explanation.

Mr. Haris and his associates nearly wept.

Competitive over paying? They had been pummeled by Westley, for crying out loud!

The waiter was brimming with questions but held his tongue.

At the Golden Palace, keeping quiet was the golden rule for keeping your job.

"Sir, who will be taking care of the bill?" the waiter inquired.

"I've got this," Westley said with a flourish, passing over the card.

Since it wasn't his card, he might as well play the part with flair.

Without suspicion, the waiter processed the payment.

Then, with a beaming smile, he said, "Thank you, esteemed guests. Have a wonderful evening."

"Sure."

Westley tossed the card back to Ethan and then turned to Sienna, "What are you waiting for? Let's hit the road!"

Upon hearing those words, Sienna snapped to attention.

She quickly closed the gap to Westley's side in just a few strides.

Together, they opened the door and confidently strode out.

Shortly after their departure, a square-faced man with a notably large head barreled in.

Upon entry, the man noticed Ethan, still visibly shaken, and couldn't resist inquiring, "What's going on here?"

Seeing the man, Ethan nearly burst into tears.

"Cousin, you're finally here. I've been terribly bullied," Ethan lamented.

The man was none other than Ethan's cousin, Marlon, the head of security. Though his title sounded impressive, he was essentially a doorkeeper.

"Who was it? Who dares to bully you on my watch?" Marlon asked, displeased.

Ethan succinctly recounted the events.

Marlon listened and became incensed.

This was his domain!

He gave Ethan a reassuring pat on the shoulder and declared, "Don't worry, cousin. I'll make sure they pay for this."

He then pulled out his walkie-talkie and barked, "All units, be advised. Someone just pilfered from room 1022. Do not let them get away."

"I'll say it again, do not let them get away!"

...

The pair exited the grand entrance of the Golden Palace.

Sienna was preoccupied with thoughts.

Who exactly was Westley?

How was he so formidable?

How did he single-handedly dismantle Ethan's elaborate scheme?

Given her intuitive nature, Sienna's mind was awash with speculation.

"Do you need a ride home?" Westley offered.

"Ah..."

Sienna's cheeks flushed with color as she hastily declined, "Thank you, but I can manage on my own. See you tomorrow, then."

"Sure, take care," Westley replied with a wave.

Fighting the urge to delve deeper into the mystery of this man, Sienna briskly made her way to the underground parking lot.

Westley lingered for a moment before casting another glance back at the Golden Palace.

"I had planned to come here tonight to explore ways to earn some cash. But Ethan, that good-for-nothing, is just too incompetent," Westley muttered with a scoff.

Had it not been for Ethan mentioning a Cage Fighting Competition to wager on, Westley wouldn't have bothered with this place at all.

Just as he was preparing to leave, a large group of people charged toward him from behind.

"Hey, hold it right there, don't go!" someone yelled.

Westley immediately halted and glanced back, a grin spreading across his face.

Their attire made it clear they were from the Golden Palace.

He couldn't believe his luck!

The night stretched ahead, and he had been fretting over a lack of entertainment.

Now, with Sienna not around, he could really let loose!

As soon as Westley stopped, the group closed in and encircled him.

Marlon stepped forward, his expression dark, and demanded, "Did you just come out of room 1022?"

"Yep, that's me." Westley nodded in confirmation.

"We suspect you've stolen something from the room. You're to come with us immediately for questioning," Marlon stated gravely.

"Oh? And what might I have stolen?" Westley inquired.

"Enough talk. We'll figure it out soon enough," Marlon barked.

As the exchange unfolded, they moved closer to Westley.

Should he show any sign of resistance, they were ready to strike without hesitation.