Chapter 252

If this had been the same Alexander from earlier, Manager Jencks would not have given him a second thought. However, then,

Alexander’s words held a weight he could not ignore.

“Mister Jackman!”

Manager Jencks fumbled for his cell phone, his voice quivering. “Trouble at the plant! Our waste disposal isn’t up to code, and

someone's demanding justice for the Chesire estate. If we don’t...they’re threatening to take

down the Jackman family!”

Hmm?

The line went dead for a tense few seconds before a chilling laugh echoed. “Waste disposal? Some folks really

don’t know how the world works, picking a fight with the Jackmans.

“He wants a scene... Alright, let’s give him a show!”

The call ended with a decisive click.

“Sir?”

Still in Alexander’s grip, Manager Jencks managed a weak smile. “I’ve made the call. Maybe you could...let go

now?”

Alexander scoffed and tossed him aside, then stood with Asher in silent anticipation.

Half an hour later, the roar of a helicopter sliced through the silence, landing with precision at the Jackman

factory gates.

The sound of footsteps followed as a young man in a laid-back suit, flanked by four muscular guards, stepped

out. He gave Manager Jencks a dismissive glance, then turned a sly smile on Alexander. “You're the one after

the Chesire estate?”

His eyes roamed, landing on a shiny red Porsche nearby, and he chuckled. “Nice car. Didn’t peg you for

someone with taste. However...”

Glancing back at his private jet with a smug grin, he boasted, “Who can talk about having a fortune in front of

the Jackmans? They’re nothing but insignificant bugs!”

Alexander ignored the show-off, his eyes steady and serene. “Cut the chatter. You're here, so let’s hear it. How do you plan to

deal with the factory’s pollution?”

It was all about the money, was it not?

“Bring it on!”

The young man sneered and gestured with a flick of his wrist. “Show him the money. Open his eyes!”.

Four muscular bodyguards headed back to the chopper, each hauling a pair of suitcases. They flipped them

open nonchalantly, revealing stacks of cash-each suitcase stuffed with at least 75000 dollars.

+15 BONOS

“This is how I solve problems.”

He tilted his chin up, a mocking smile on his lips. “The villagers are sick, right? Then throw money at the problem! I’m not here to

waste words. Take the cash and get lost!”

He waved dismissively once more.

The bodyguards exchanged glances, hoisted the suitcases, and hurled them into the air. The cash exploded outwards, a

torrential downpour of banknotes, engulfing Alexander and Asher in a cascade of currency.

Laughing wildly, Mister Jackman watched the spectacle. “My money doesn’t come easy. You want a payout? Then get down on

your knees and pick it up, bill by bill!”

As the money continued to flutter down, Alexander looked up, his expression unchanging, his voice then carrying a chill. “Money

can be a blessing. Use it right, and it can ward off disaster. Use it wrong, and it can destroy everything you have.

“It's clear you're the latter type!”

With those words, his right hand snapped with a sudden force.

The bill, poised to fall, froze mid-flight before it rocketed forward, slicing through the air with the sharpness of a thrown dagger. Its

whistling cut so swiftly that it was invisible to the eye. It slammed into Mister Jackman

with a series of hisses.

The bill was as lethal as a blade.

Mister Jackman did not even try to dodge. He screamed, a sound of pure agony, as his pricey designer suit was effortlessly

slashed to ribbons by the flying money, his body instantly soaked in blood.

In a single strike, he was critically wounded, teetering on the brink of death.

Mister Jackman’s face had been twisted with smugness just moments ago. He was then rendered into a mangled mess,

crumpled on the ground. Writhing and howling, his body was a map of pain with no refuge in

sight.

“Mister Jackman!”

The four bodyguards were petrified where they stood, too terrified to move.

They had good reason to be scared.

Those men, protectors of the Jackman family, had witnessed true martial arts masters. However, not even the revered

Grandmaster, supported by the Jackmans, could unleash such a fearsome power.

Banknotes turning into airborne weapons?

Who was this enigmatic young man behind the wheel of a Porsche?!