Despite being somewhat daunted by Vincent’s imposing presence, the lackeys realized they significantly outnumbered him. Could they really be defeated by just one person?

“Release Mr. Bernard now, or we won’t hesitate to rough you up,” one of Rolland’s lackeys threatened as he advanced.

Vincent, however, regarded them with derision. “Pathetic losers.”

These two simple words struck a nerve, fueling their anger. Fuming with rage, they lost control, and two of them charged at Vincent, fists clenched. Read complete version only at find~novel~net

Vincent stood his ground, calmly maintaining his hold on Rolland’s wrist. In one precise motion, he kicked one attacker in the stomach. The man collapsed, groaning in agony, unable to get up. Katelyn dealt with the second assailant just as swiftly, taking him down with a single kick.

She casually flicked imaginary dirt off her pants, her expression cold. She had wisely chosen comfortable athletic wear for the day—perfect for handling physical confrontations.

Accustomed to lives of luxury, these wealthy heirs were completely outclassed by Katelyn and Vincent’s superior skills. Witnessing their comrades’ downfall, the remaining underlings shuddered in fear. Terror and reluctance marked their faces, and they were unwilling to advance another step.

At that moment, Rolland fully realized the gravity of the situation. His former arrogance had completely dissipated.

With uncertainty, he asked, “Who… who are you?”

How had he managed to anger someone so powerful? With a chilling tone, Vincent responded, “You do not deserve to know my name.”

With that, he brushed off Rolland’s hand, and at the same time, Katelyn expertly timed a sharp kick to his butt.

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Had his henchmen not reacted quickly, Rolland might have found himself sprawled on the ground, nursing a more severely injured wrist. The arrogance he had earlier displayed was now nothing but a farce.

Katelyn pulled a packet of disinfectant wipes from her pocket and handed them to Vincent with concern. “Make sure to clean that properly. We don’t want any germs from them.”

Vincent’s lips twisted into a subtle smile as he methodically cleaned his hands. He said nothing, but his derisive look conveyed a message far more intimidating than any words could.

The message was so clear that even someone as clueless as Rolland could understand it. His eyes burned with rage.

He realized that, to the duo, he was nothing more than a fool.

Rolland seethed. “Do you know who I am? Ever heard of the Bernard Group? That’s my family’s company. I could make you regret this with just one phone call.”

Katelyn’s brow furrowed in slight confusion, her gaze puzzled. She wasn’t really familiar with the local business elite.

“Is the Bernard Group really that remarkable?” she asked, still unsure.

In her mind, the leading firms were the Adams Group, Wheeler Group, and Johnson Group. Even the Bailey Group wasn’t in the top three, yet Rolland spoke as if his name commanded ultimate respect.

Vincent discarded the disinfectant wipes into a nearby trash can and replied, “It’s a trash company, not even in the top ten.”

Katelyn added sharply, “So it’s a minor company. No wonder their heir acts like this. Only a minor leader would run a minor company like that.”

This repeated insult pushed Rolland’s anger over the edge. “How dare you insult me like this? I wish you would just drop dead!”

As he spoke, he reached for a spare gun from the arsenal, but his right hand was disabled, and his left lacked the strength to properly hold a weapon.

Noticing this, one of his henchmen quickly stepped in, murmuring, “Mr. Bernard, please calm down. These two are clearly extraordinary. We should hold back for now. What if they’re too powerful for us?”

Individuals capable of such confidence and poise likely wielded power equal to theirs. Yet, the noble demeanor and distant air surrounding Vincent were unlike those of a typical business leader.

The henchman was perceptive, but with Rolland’s anger at its peak, rational thoughts fell on deaf ears.

“Get out of my way!” he hissed.

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