Chapter 23 The Consequences of Disobedience
The blood in Ronin's body seemed to freeze at that moment.
He stared hard at Lachlan on the ground, covered in blood and convulsing in pain.
His cloudy eyes instantly filled with bloodshot veins. He glared at James with towering rage, cursing through gritted teeth,
"James! How dare you hurt my son! I'll fight you to the death!"
Before he finished speaking, he waved his hand violently and shouted with eyes nearly splitting with rage.
"Someone! Kill him for me! Tear this bastard to pieces! Quick, avenge Lachlan!"
Following this furious command, the Turner family's bodyguards rushed out from everywhere. Black-suited figures appeared from behind the banquet hall screens and corridor corners.
Dozens of bodyguards stood tall and straight, expressionless, radiating killing intent.
They gripped weapons in their hands, moving swiftly, instantly surrounding James and his group.
Iron Wolf and the ten Specter Syndicate members reacted extremely fast. Almost the instant the enemies appeared, they spread out in a defensive formation.
Their guns were cocked in unison, barrels precisely aimed at the approaching bodyguards.
This group had been through countless battles and seen plenty of danger. This little scene was nothing to them.
Meanwhile, James still leaned back in his chair, his posture lazy and composed, as if the tense standoff before him had nothing to do with him.
He lowered his eyes to glance at the bodyguards closing in, a mocking smile playing at his lips, his voice so calm it didn't have a ripple, yet carried a bone-chilling pressure.
"Just this trash, and you dare make a move on me? Ronin, you think too highly of yourself."
As his words fell, he lifted his eyelids slightly and waved his hand casually.
The Specter Syndicate members understood immediately, their figures flashing as they charged out.
They were all top mercenaries who had experienced countless wars, their movements clean and agile, every strike hitting vital points.
As gunshots suddenly rang out, sharp screams followed closely, the two sounds interweaving and echoing through the luxurious banquet hall.
In just a few short minutes, dozens of bodyguards were completely wiped out. They fell one by one in pools of blood, a gruesome sight.
Those Turner family bodyguards stationed outside the banquet hall were scared stiff, their legs weak. They didn't dare take another step forward and shrank into corners.
James slowly stood up, calmly straightening his suit, not putting the recent fight in his eyes at all.
He walked slowly to Ronin and stopped.
Looking down at Ronin, who had collapsed limply in his chair.
"Ronin, just now you said you'd tear me to pieces?"
Ronin was scared out of his wits by that look, completely panicked. All his arrogance and anger instantly vanished, leaving only fear.
It was a fear that went deep into his bones, making him unable to even stand steady. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees on the cold floor.
"Mr. Anderson, I was wrong, I was really wrong! Please spare me! Please spare the Turner family, I'll never dare again!"
"Spare you?" James laughed coldly, his tone full of disdain, as if he'd heard the biggest joke.
"When you were shouting about killing me just now, why didn't you think about sparing me?"
"Ten years ago, you and Trevor divided up my parents' shares together."
"You embezzled the Anderson family assets. Back then, why didn't you think about sparing my parents?"
Ronin was still begging on the ground, his forehead already broken and bleeding, blood mixed with dust smeared all over his face.
James looked down at him, the bloodstains by his feet getting on the bottom of his leather shoes, sticky and uncomfortable.
He instinctively rubbed them on the ground, his tone without much fluctuation, yet carrying undeniable pressure.
"Stop crying. No amount of crying will fix your son's tongue or bring back my parents' lives."
Ronin's whole body stiffened. He looked up, his face covered in tear tracks and blood marks, his eyes full of despair.
He knew James was ruthless, but still held onto a last shred of hope, his voice shaking uncontrollably.
"Mr. Anderson, I really was wrong. What happened back then, I was also deceived by Trevor, I—"
"Cut the crap."
James interrupted him, crouching down and grabbing his chin, the force making Ronin grimace in pain.
He had a fire burning inside him. Ten years of hatred couldn't be wiped away with just an apology.
But he couldn't just kill Ronin like this. Killing him would be too easy.
"The evidence of you and Trevor colluding to divide up my family's assets back then—hand it over."
James's fingertips were ice-cold, pinching Ronin's chin painfully.
"Transfer records, letters, or recordings of your private dealings—anything works."
Ronin's eyes dodged, his lips moved, wanting to say something but swallowing it back.
He had hidden that evidence well. It was his last way out. If he handed it over, he'd truly have nothing left.
But seeing the ruthlessness in James's eyes, and remembering Lachlan still convulsing on the ground, his heart suddenly sank.
"I don't have any. Those things were lost long ago."
He bit his teeth, still trying to lie.
James snorted, let go, stood up, and kicked him in the shoulder.
Ronin screamed, fell to the ground, his back hitting the table leg, gasping in pain.
"Don't have any?"
James looked down at him, pulled out his phone from his pocket, and opened a photo.
"What's this?"
In the photo was a picture of Ronin and Trevor together, both holding a document, smiling smugly.
It was taken ten years ago when they divided up the Anderson family assets. James had spent five whole years looking for this photo.
Seeing the photo, Ronin's face instantly turned deathly pale, his whole body starting to tremble.
He hadn't expected James to have found even this. It seemed he really couldn't escape.
"I'll give you ten minutes."
James leaned against the wall, took out a cigarette, lit it, took a drag, smoke wreathing his eyes and brows.
"Either hand over the evidence, and I'll spare your life, let you watch the Turner family collapse step by step."
"Or I'll kill you right now, then search out what you've hidden, and by the way, kill everyone in the Turner family."
Iron Wolf stood to the side, saying nothing, just staring coldly at Ronin, his gun constantly pointed at him.
Having followed James for so many years, he understood James's temper too well. What he said, he would do.
Ronin lay on the ground, tears and snot mixed together, his heart in turmoil.
Hand over the evidence, and the Turner family was finished. He himself would live a fate worse than death.
Don't hand it over, and everyone in the Turner family would die, not even leaving descendants.
He struggled for a long time, finally gritting his teeth and speaking hoarsely, "I'll hand it over, I'll hand it over."
"The evidence is in the safe in my study. The password is my birthday."
James nodded and lifted his chin toward Iron Wolf.
"Go get it."