Chapter 107: Gathering Numbers

Mr. Flores's domineering behavior was evident to all present.

The owner of the SUV was probably no pushover either; it seemed there might be a confrontation between the two.

Mark realized today's business was doomed; the two cars had collided right at the entrance, and he could tell with certainty that the owners were about to cause a scene.

Mr. Flores approached the SUV, intent on dragging the other driver out and ready to swing his stick at the slightest sign of resistance.

But before he could reach for the door, the car's owner stepped out - a youth with an icy demeanor, exuding a cold aura.

Mr. Flores gripped his stick tighter and blurted out, "Can you even drive? You..."

Without a word, the youth kicked out, striking Mr. Flores in the stomach. Mr. Flores doubled over, and was flung back into the store, crashing through two solid wooden tables before coming to a halt, then tilting his head, he passed out completely.

Everyone was struck with fear as the sounds of cracking and crashing filled their ears, unable to distinguish if it was the wood or Mr. Flores' bones breaking. But they were certain that with that kick, even if Mr. Flores didn't die, he was bound for the ICU.

The onlookers, Mark included, couldn't help but step back at the sight of the menacing youth.

Mr. Flores was vicious, sure, but he would at least speak first - this youth was like a bloodthirsty beast.

He had made a dramatic entrance, flipping over a BMW and pinning two people underneath.

Exiting his car, in less than two seconds, too indifferent to exchange words with Mr. Flores, he delivered a kick that left Mr. Flores' fate unknown.

This was the work of a devil!

Fear crept over Mark. This youth, with his murderous vibe, surely wasn't here for a meal. Was he looking for trouble?

As the youth walked into the shop, he passed the overturned BMW without so much as stepping around, stepping directly on the driver's head who was still conscious. Startled, Mark's hand shook, and the kitchen knife he was holding clattered to the ground with a loud noise.

The youth looked his way.

Mark managed a strained smile, "I'm a chef, holding a knife - it makes sense, right?"

The youth nodded, "You're Mark?"

"I... I am," answered Mark hesitantly.

"Come with me."

"What do you want?" Miranda's teeth chattered with rage, blocking her husband's path."If you want to take him, you'll have to take me too."

"You're Mark's wife? Fine, let's go together then."the youth said indifferently.

Despite his fear, Mark clenched his teeth and bent down to pick up the knife, brandishing the gleaming blade:"We live in a society governed by law. I advise you not to do anything rash!"

But in his heart, he knew that this was a youth who didn't even care for the likes of Mr. Flores; likely wouldn't care for such warnings.

"Dad, brother, come help!" Miranda, aware of her husband's ordinary capabilities, knew he couldn't handle such a ferocious person. Panicked, she turned to call for her father.

But when she turned to look, she was stunned for a moment.

The two men were tiptoeing along the wall, making their way out.

Hearing his daughter's voice, Miranda's father looked somewhat embarrassed. "You two wait here, I'm going to find some help."

That's what he said, but his only thought was to run outside and never return.

Without his daughter, he still had a son.

But if life is lost, then everything is gone.

The young man driving had knocked over two and kicked another, leaving the three with serious injuries - at best. It wouldn't be surprising if all three died.

Seeing what might be a deadly situation, the young man didn't even glance back, as if stepping on an insect. Miranda's father feared that if he intervened, it might very well end with him being crushed underfoot just the same.

Kenneth felt the same. He was beginning to resent his sister. With her calling out to them, she had drawn the young man's attention to them now!

Sure enough, the youth turned back and sized them up. The two of them stiffened instantly, not daring to move a muscle.

"Are you Miranda's family? Let's all leave together then."

"No!" Miranda's father and Kenneth went limp, slumping against the wall. Her father even spoke in a panic, "I've already disowned my daughter. If you must take someone, take them."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kenneth's voice trembled. "We're not even family. They've got nothing to do with us anymore!"

Miranda listened to them, her tears staining her cheeks. She never imagined her own family, that was once so close would say such things.

Even though her father and brother were always pressuring her to marry someone else, she had always held onto her hope, believing her family truly wanted her happiness.

But now she saw clearly; to these two men, she was nothing but a tool to make money, completely devoid of any affection. At the first sign of danger, they discarded her without a second thought.

"Well then, if our relationship is severed, so be it." Clutching tightly to Mark's hand, Miranda spoke with resolve, "As long as I'm with Mark, that's enough - even if it means death."

The imposing, fierce young man's approach spelled nothing good.

Mark wrapped his arms around his wife, the other hand gripping a kitchen knife; he was prepared to fight one last time!

The cold-hearted youth seemed to be losing patience and walked over as if he couldn't see the knife at all.

"Strike with the knife first; if it inflicts a wound, good." Mark thought to himself yet acknowledged the slim chance against the youth's agility - he couldn't reach him. "But I could try to grab his legs while he dodges, and let Miranda get away. No matter what, I can't let Miranda be taken too."

When Mark made up his mind, the sudden sound of a rushing car emerged from outside. Shortly after, a young man hurried over. Observing the situation of the restaurant, he wore a bitter smile on his face.

"Antonio, you were supposed to pick someone up. How did it turn into this mess?"

Glancing at Mark's tense demeanor and the kitchen knife in his hand, the young man - Stefano - felt quite helpless. "I was tied up with something unexpected and asked you to fill in for me. But instead of a simple pickup, it looks more like a kidnapping. And who are all these people lying on the floor? It seems two have already breathed their last."

"Aren't you just adding to your body count?"

Body count?

Upon hearing this, Mark and Miranda turned pale with fright, their fear escalating. No doubt, this was a demon, a devil!

But Antonio responded indifferently, "Their deaths are inconsequential. In my eyes, such people aren't worth counting. Otherwise, I'd have claimed ten thousand lives by now, maybe even twenty."

"Madman!" Stefano could only feel relieved that, sensing something was amiss, he had hurried over in time.

With a kindly smile, he said to Mark, "Greetings, Mr. Miller. Rest assured, we're not enemies - in fact, we could even be considered friends. If you have the time, would you be so inclined to join us for a meal?"