Chapter 50: Contract Card of the Gods
The needle tip had already touched the skin.
The next second, the Reaper's wrist was gripped tightly by a hand.
He reacted extremely fast, immediately exerting force with his arm, trying to push the needle in that last millimeter, but that hand didn't give him a second chance.
The bone broke first.
Not dislocated—the entire wrist bone was directly crushed, the break immediately piercing through the skin and flesh. The syringe flew from his hand, clear liquid spilling all over the floor.
The Reaper's expression finally changed. His left hand instinctively reached for his lower back, but Wayne didn't give him time to switch hands. He raised his knee and drove it into the man's chest.
The Reaper's entire body left the ground, flying backward. He first knocked over the medical kit, then crashed through a marble column behind him. His sternum caved in, and he spat two mouthfuls of blood in succession, unable to get up for a long time.
Everyone in the VIP room froze.
David looked at the needle on the ground, then at the wrist broken into sections. His mind went blank first, then completely lost control.
"Shoot! Shoot now!"
He pointed at Wayne, his voice cracking.
"He's a robber! He's an accomplice! Kill him, kill him right now!"
Over a dozen armed security guards raised their guns simultaneously.
Helen held Jenny, her mind still in chaos, but she understood one thing—that injection was never a sedative.
"Wayne, watch out!"
Grant stood up supporting himself on the coffee table, his forehead covered in blood, gritting his teeth as he shouted.
"Take out the ones with guns first, don't let them touch the child!"
He didn't need to say it.
The first security guard had just raised his gun to chest height when his wrist broke.
The gun dropped to the floor, the man fell to his knees.
The second one tried to pull the trigger, but his elbow joint bent backward first. His scream was only half out when he was already slammed into the wall.
In less than five seconds, all the security guards were down.
Some had broken hands, some had shattered knees, some were curled up on the ground clutching their throats, some hadn't even gripped their guns properly before being kicked into the corner by the metal gate. The entire VIP room was filled with wailing.
David backed up step by step, his legs beginning to weaken.
"Who... who exactly are you..."
Wayne ignored him.
He first walked to Helen, took Jenny from her arms, and felt the child's neck and breathing.
"Daddy..."
Jenny was crying hard, her hands clutching his neck tightly.
"He was going to give me a shot, I was scared."
"It's okay now."
Wayne held her steady, his voice very low.
"I'm here, no one can touch you anymore."
Helen watched this scene, her lips moving twice. She wanted to say she was the one who brought the card, wanted to say she was the one who got Jenny dragged into this, but the words stuck in her throat, nothing would come out.
Grant supported himself on the table edge, first looking at the syringe on the ground, then at the badge in the corner.
"Federal Disaster Medical Consultant is fake."
He took a breath and pointed at the Reaper.
"This man isn't a doctor, he's a hitman."
When David heard this, his face turned completely white.
Even he, stupid as he was, knew things had gotten serious.
The man he'd just pointed a gun at wasn't some card thief—he was the family member of a man with top-level clearance who could take down a professional killer on the spot.
Just then.
The VIP exclusive elevator doors opened.
The first to rush out wasn't some ordinary manager, but the entire Wealth Center's Security Director, Legal Director, Operations Director, followed by seven or eight senior executives, all jogging this way.
The last person to emerge was around sixty years old, in a silver-gray suit, with a badge bearing only one line of text.
North America Regional Executive President, Andrew.
He'd just received a red alert from headquarters and rushed down from upstairs. On the way, only one thought ran through his mind.
An SSS-level classified account had been triggered.
A Gods' Covenant Card had appeared in Houston.
If he showed even a hint of negligence toward someone of this level, the entire North American region would need a new president today.
Andrew rushed into the VIP room and first saw security guards all over the floor. His expression changed, and he was about to get angry when his gaze swept to the black card on the verification machine, then to Wayne holding the child. He froze completely on the spot.
Then, without a second's hesitation, he strode forward quickly, bent his legs, and knelt down.
Not a crouch.
But in front of everyone, knees hitting the floor, kneeling before Wayne.
"Esteemed Gods' Covenant Cardholder!"
Andrew kept his head lowered, his back drenched in sweat.
"I didn't know you had come to Houston. That your family was subjected to such distress is the North American region's failure. We deserve death!"
At these words, everyone still standing in the VIP room was stunned.
Helen clutched the sofa armrest, her entire body frozen.
When she took the card last night, she'd imagined many possibilities—money, trouble, secrets, even criminal risk.
The one thing she never imagined was that a North American Regional President would kneel to greet this card.
David was even more directly collapsed on the floor.
"Andrew..."
His voice was shaking.
"Wasn't it a theft alert? The system showed unauthorized access, that's why I locked down the scene. I didn't do anything wrong, I was protecting the bank!"
Andrew whipped his head around, his voice changing.
"Protecting the bank?"
"Someone at your level thinks they're qualified to interpret system alerts for a Gods' Covenant Card?"
He pointed at the machine and spoke sternly.
"When an SSS-level classified account is triggered, locking the doors isn't to prevent theft—it's to clear the area, to isolate unauthorized personnel, to wait for the highest-ranking official to personally arrive and receive the guest!"
"The red light isn't a wanted alert, it's the highest honor!"
"When the holder of this card appears at any branch in North America, the regional president must arrive immediately, personally receive them, and grant full highest-level privileges throughout!"
"And you—you pointed a gun at the cardholder's family, and let a fake doctor inject his daughter?"
One sentence after another, David grew more terrified with each word.
"I... I didn't know..."
"Didn't know?"
Andrew grabbed the tablet from the table and smashed it into his face.
"Ignorance isn't your get-out-of-jail-free card—it'll only make you die faster!"
David's face was covered in blood as he crawled and rolled, trying to explain.
"Andrew, I really thought she stole the card. She was dressed like that, and she said she just wanted to check the balance. How could I have thought..."
Andrew raised his hand and delivered a slap.
"So you felt entitled to humiliate a lady and threaten a four-year-old child at gunpoint?"
"Who gave you the authority to judge a customer's status by their appearance?"
"Who gave you the authority to treat the holder of North America's highest clearance card like a robbery suspect?"
The group of executives behind him didn't dare lift their heads.
Helen heard all this and was completely dumbfounded.
Last night she'd been thinking that if there really was a large sum of money from unknown sources in the card, she'd take Emily and Jenny and leave Wayne today.
Now the result was in.
It wasn't from unknown sources.
She simply had no right to even guess.
Grant said quietly beside her, "I told you last night, this kind of card isn't ordinary clearance."
Helen didn't respond.
All she could think about now was how she'd walked in all the way here holding Jenny, the card tucked in her bag, thinking she'd check the balance before deciding whether to leave Wayne.
And her checking had nearly put Jenny under a killer's needle.
This was something she couldn't excuse even to herself.
Over there, a muffled cough suddenly came from the corner.
The Reaper wasn't dead yet.
His sternum was shattered, his right arm useless, but a top-tier hitman's life was tougher than ordinary people's. He rolled half an inch, his left hand quietly reaching for the backup knife in his pant leg.
Grant saw it first and immediately shouted.
"Wayne, he's still moving!"
Wayne, holding Jenny, handed the child back to Helen, saying only one sentence.
"Hold her tight."
Then he walked over and stepped down.
The Reaper's chest lost its last bit of support and completely collapsed.
That knife remained stuck in his pant leg, never drawn.
Andrew saw this scene and even lightened his breathing.
He knelt on the ground, not daring to stand up at all.
And Wayne, stepping on the Reaper's chest, finally turned his gaze to David, who had been scared into wetting himself.
"David."
He said the name once.
"You just said you were going to call the police to arrest my wife's mother?"