Chapter 152: Chapter 152

Chapter 152 Level Determines Everything Aware of Finnegan’s connection with the Wahlstrom family, Vilmar and the others were bewildered and surprised to see Alisha appear in person with a group of elites.

What right does someone like Finnegan have to associate with the Wahlstrom family?

Vilmar took a deep breath, trying to salvage the situation. “Ms. Wahlstrom, can’t you just let what happened tonight slide? Making a big fuss over a small disagreement isn’t wise!”

He was concerned that the Wahlstrom family might target the Royle family.

Alisha responded mockingly. “You’re calling it a minor disagreement now, but what exactly did do at you the beginning? You ordered someone to kidnap Josephine and bring her here. What would have happened to her if Finnegan wasn’t capable?”

It was clear that Finnegan and Josephine would have ended up in trouble, suppressed by Vilmar using his connections.

Vilmar knew this without a doubt. In a reversed scenario, he knew they would undoubtedly make life difficult for Finnegan.

“Then are you sure you won’t interfere?” Vilmar asked.

Alisha affirmed, “Yes. As long as you have the ability, not just me, even the entire Wahlstrom family won’t interfere!”

Vilmar’s eyes glimmered after receiving yet another confirmation.

“Are you sure, Finnegan?” he then asked.

Finnegan seemed formidable, but they had more than thirty bodyguards on their side.

Without Alisha’s interference, Vilmar was confident he could take down Finnegan.

“You’re talking nonsense!” Finnegan retorted coldly, tightening his grip on the dagger and lunging forward, targeting the Royle family’s bodyguards.

“Whoever takes him down gets five million!” Vilmar, recognizing the immediate threat, didn’t hesitate any longer, stepping back and issuing the order right away.

After a moment of hesitation, Matthias, Ariendel, and others rallied their bodyguards, issuing orders to act collectively.

Over thirty bodyguards charged toward Finnegan, who showed no signs of fear. Gripping the dagger firmly, he faced the challenge head-on. Swift and deliberate, the rise and fall of his hand left only shimmering afterimages.

The room echoed with terrified screams as Finnegan incapacitated the bodyguards, either by chopping off their hands or by directly stabbing through their arms and thighs.

Finnegan refrained from taking their lives, but the aftermath of his onslaught ensured that even if the bodyguards were to recover, they would be left disabled for the rest of their lives.

The tension in the room escalated as the bodyguards grew increasingly anxious in the face of this ruthless battle. While they were no strangers to conflict, encountering someone like Finnegan, who treated them as if they were mere animals, was a new and unsettling experience.

Vilmar and the others were once again shocked by Finnegan’s indifferent cruelty.

Ariendel, struggling to suppress her fear and nausea, asked with her face pale, “Mr. Vilmar, can we rely on these bodyguards of yours?”

In a short span of time, nearly ten had already fallen, leaving Vilmar gritting his teeth in a struggle to maintain composure. “One hundred million! Whoever can take out Finnegan, we’ll pool together one hundred million for you!”

Matthias and the others quickly chimed in, “Yes! We’ll give you one hundred million to split when the time comes!”

The hope was to inspire bravery among the bodyguards with generous rewards, urging them to confront Finnegan despite the overwhelming odds stacked against them.

The terrified bodyguards were all pumped up, fearlessly charging toward Finnegan.

Alisha’s rosy lips curled into a mocking smile.

Even the formidable Goldberg Five had met their end at Finnegan’s hands, and it seemed unlikely that a group of non-combatant bodyguards could match his skill.

Finnegan’s actions grew increasingly ruthless. He knew that only absolute cruelty could shatter the enemy’s confidence from within.

In an instant, fresh blood splattered everywhere, and severed limbs fell to the ground from time to time, saturating the air with the pervasive scent of blood.

Finnegan displayed a devilish demeanor as he moved through the battlefield, leaving fallen enemies in his wake.

Vilmar and the others held their breath anxiously. Some even looked away, too afraid to witness the unfolding carnage.

With only seven or eight bodyguards remaining, the atmosphere grew increasingly dire. Amidst the chaos, one bodyguard succumbed to a mental breakdown, crying out in desperation, “I give up! This guy’s a devil!”

His breakdown triggered a chain reaction, causing the remaining bodyguards to lose their will to fight and scatter in panic.

Vilmar shouted angrily, “Come back! All of you, come back!”

Despite Vilmar and Matthias’ desperate shouts, the remaining few bodyguards refused to listen.

With the speed of sprint champions, they scampered away, not bothering to look back.

Is it really over?

Vilmar staggered back a few steps, a profound sense of loss and anguish piercing his heart like a needle.

How can this person be so skilled, even though he’s just a nobody?

Ariendel was so anxious that she grabbed him. “Mr. Vilmar, what should we do?”

Slap!

“Get lost!” Vilmar, overwhelmed by frustration, lashed out at Ariendel, delivering a harsh slap. He continued with a dismissive tone, “So what if he can fight? Does he dare to kill us? Our status ensures our safety; even the Wahlstrom family wouldn’t dare to kill us outright!”

Hearing this, Alisha furrowed her brows slightly, muttering under her breath, “D*mn it!”

Despite her annoyance, she acknowledged the truth in Vilmar’s words.

She could torment and oppress them, but taking their lives was a line she couldn’t cross.

Ariendel blinked, comprehending the situation, then sneered at Finnegan. “Yeah, so what if you can fight? Status is determined by level, and it dictates that we can touch you or even kill you, but you can’t touch us!”

A sense of relief washed over the rest of the people when they understood the power dynamics, dispelling the tension that had gripped them.

They even reverted to their arrogant and aloof demeanor, similar to how ancient nobles toyed with the common people.

I can toy with you and even kill you, but you can’t do the same to me!

Finnegan turned around, casually flicking off the fresh blood from his dagger. “Does one’s social standing determine everything?” he pondered.

Vilmar sneered in response, “Finnegan, I know you can’t accept this, but society has always been this from ancient times to the present. My status means you can’t touch me!”

“Is that so?”

“Isn’t it? Why don’t you ask Ms. Wahlstrom?”

Vilmar flashed a smug smile.

Finnegan let out a light sigh. “You’re mistaken!”

way, In the next moment, Finnegan swung his right hand forcefully, and the dagger transformed into a streak of cold light that swept past, plunging straight into Vilmar’s right shoulder.

The powerful momentum pushed him back a few steps, knocking down several of his companions.

“Finnegan, have you lost your mind? Do you have any idea how influential the Royle family is in Nuthana?”

“You’re crazy! Have you suddenly grown fearless?”

Many people present couldn’t bear to see Vilmar injured.

2.4 Vilmar clenched his jaw, enduring the searing pain, his face contorted into a grimace. “Finnegan, you must be out of your mind. You’ve scaled your fate by provoking our group!”

“Group?” Finnegan scoffed, his expression dripping with disdain. “If I were to have them beat you up and threaten to break their legs if they refuse, do you think your ‘group’ would still hold strong?”

Vilmar sneered. “That’s impossible!”

With a wave of his right hand, Finnegan declared, “Then let me show you just how absurd your so-

called group is!”

He then turned to the others. “Anyone who wants to leave must defeat Vilmar, Matthias, and Ariendel.

Fail to do so, and I’ll break your legs!”

Observing Finnegan, Alisha silently admired his cunning.

While it appeared to be a mere blow to Vilmar’s confidence, Finnegan was actually strategically sowing discord among Vilmar and his associates.

Once they took action, it would undoubtedly lead to a falling-out.

Furthermore, to prevent Vilmar from seeking revenge, those who took action might secretly plot against him.

Vilmar grasped Finnegan’s intentions in an instant, but he was inexplicably confident. “Finnegan, stop fooling around!”

However, no sooner had he finished speaking than a young heir nearby landed a punch on his face.

“Mr. Vilmar, Finnegan doesn’t seem to be joking. I apologize.”

“D*mn it…”