Chapter 256
His Lordship Alexander Kane
Chapter 0256
âAs good as deadâ?
The moment Alexanderâs challenge hit the air, Leandro laughed maniacally, wild and unrestrained.
There he stood, the proud second son of the Jackman dynasty, not even thirty and already ranked eighty-third among the Chart
of Fighters.
Even the seasoned fighters of the northern realms felt small in his shadow. Since his youth, he had been the
golden boy, one of the mightiest in his powerful clan.
The Jackman family was a northern powerhouse thanks to bruisers like him and, of course, his own iron-fisted
ways.
âIt's been ages since anyoneâs had the guts to talk big in front of me!â
Leandroâs laughter faded, and he eyed Alexander with a sneer. âSo, I hear youâre the one who took down the Ellis family and
brought the Hart dynasty to its knees?
âLet me clue you in: Next to my Jackman family, those families are small fry, not even worth mentioning!
âThink you can mess with the Ellis and Harts and then step to the Jackman family? Youâre dreaming! And itâs
not just you-even the mighty New Chesire Group is just a bug waiting to be squashed under the Jackman
boot!â
Alexander just shook his head, slow and deliberate.
Enough with the chit-chat. There was no point in wasting more words on the so-called âsecond son.â He had
his chance and blew it.
âOnce you're out of the picture, Olâ Mare, Woolpackton, Tormora-all those underground rackets are mine for
the taking!â
Watching Alexanderâs nonchalant shake, Leandroâs smirk grew wider, his hands a blur as he prepared to strike. âYou first. Then
tomorrow, Amber... But before she dies, Iâll have to indulge in Olâ Mareâs finest beauty.
Can't wait to savor that,â he cackled with anticipation.
With that, he lunged forward, ready to strike.
He was number eighty-three on the Chart of Fighters, a force more daunting than their average Grandmaster. In the blink of an
eye, as he launched his attack, his figure turned hazy, his right hand seeming to grip an invisible force, creating a sharp, metallic
screech as it sliced through the air.
Quicker than a flash.
In that split second, Leandroâs right hand might as well have been forged of steel, his fingertips gleaming with a brilliant, metallic
shine. With a speed that defied sight, he struck at Alexander's chest with a claw-like blow.
âChart of Fighters eighty-third? Nothing but an empty title!â
Alexander remained unshaken, his right thumb leisurely rising, lightly pressing against the center of Leandroâs
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His move was a paradox-slow to the eye, yet swift beyond measure. Even Asher, who knew nothing of fighters, could see the
move clearly but could not grasp its intricate mastery.
The counterattack was a masterstroke, a delayed action that preempted the initial strike, a single point shattering the whole.
To the onlookers, Alexanderâs finger was like a pre-set trap. Leandroâs palm, with deadly precision, smashed right into it. The
clash was like metal on metal, a chilling sound that echoed the impact.
Then came a sharp hiss, and blood flew in all directions.
Leandroâs palm, tougher than any ordinary metal, was impaled by Alexander's lone finger, bone and blood
erupting in a gruesome spectacle that covered his face.
âBro. Brother!â
On the ground, Matthew, previously menacing, then stared with eyes wide, his face a mask of disbelief.
It was not just Matthew. The Jackman familyâs three bodyguards, and even Asher behind Alexander, were all struck dumb,
shivering uncontrollably. Their hearts pounded as if they were about to burst from their chests.
Had Alex actually won?
The Lackman familyâs second son...defeated?
Impossible!
âBecause you're simply too weak.â
Alexander pulled back his finger and with a swift flick, sent droplets of blood flying from his fingertip. He locked eyes with
Leandro, whose face twisted in anger, and asked in a hushed tone, âSo, do you regret letting
that chance slip by?â
Leandroâs eyes were red with fury. He gripped his wounded right hand with his left, blood rhythmically dripping down. His face
contorted in pain, teeth grinding audibly. âYou shattered my best move in one go... Alexander,
you're ruthless!â
He spun on his heel, barking out, âYaron!â
Nearby, the driver Yaron scurried from the sleek Maserati, his voice shaking, âMister Leandro Jackman,
what's...â
âPay up!â
Leandro glared at Alexander, seething. âDo as he says. Whatever he asks, the Jackman family will pay.â
Yaron nodded frantically, managing a nervous grin, and turned to Alexander with a bow. âMister Kane, just name your price, the
Jackman family will...â
âYou've got it all wrong.â
Alexander cut him off with a dismissive shake of his head, âI offered compensation before we started. You
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His voice dropped to a chilling whisper, âI told you, you're a dead man.â