Garrett struck his palm toward Dustin. A thunderous crash echoed through the room, changing the surrounding area.
A white shadow palm surged forward with the force of lightning and pressed on Dustin. Accompanied by the fierce howling wind, everything seemed to warp as it tore through the air.
Everyone in the room turned pale with fear. They scattered in all directions to avoid being caught in the chaos. After all, the sheer power of a grandmaster martial artist was enough to kill them with a single blow.
Despite Garrett’s attack, Dustin didn’t flinch. His expression remained composed. But as he prepared to retaliate, a commanding shout interrupted.
“Stop!”
Suddenly, another burst of internal energy materialized into a shadow palm as it shot from the doorway. It narrowly missed Dustin before colliding with Garrett’s shadow palm.
The impact echoed with a loud crash, unleashing a torrent of terrifying energy. The living room quaked violently as the furniture splintered and drinks splashed over.
The martial artists around were thrown about like rag dolls in a storm. They crashed and tumbled helplessly.
The impact knocked Garrett back several steps, and his expression turned sour. “Who dares?” He frowned as he gazed toward the doorway.
Soon, a refined middle-aged man entered. He was dressed in a sleek black suit with gold-rimmed glasses.
“Elder Mason,” the middle-aged man greeted with a faint smile.
He continued, “We’ve all journeyed a long way to gather here today, and everyone in this room is an acquaintance. Let’s not let a minor
issue escalate into something more.”
Despite his unassuming demeanor, he exuded an air of mystery.
“And you are?” Garrett’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the middle-aged man.
The fact that the man had countered his strike suggested he, too, was a grandmaster martial artist. However, Garrett couldn’t recall ever encountering him before.
“I’m Hank Styles, a member of the Hall of Gods,” the middle-aged man introduced himself. “Today, I’ve gathered everyone to discuss matters of importance.”
“Hank Styles?”
Everyone exchanged confused glances as the name was unfamiliar to them.
“I’m the newly appointed god of the Hall of Gods. I’ve only taken up the position a few months ago, so it’s understandable if you haven’t heard of me yet,” Hank said, displaying his identity badge to them.
“It’s been a while since I’ve encountered the elites of the Hall of Gods. You certainly live up to their reputation.” Garrett’s expression softened as he acknowledged Hank’s identity.
He wasn’t surprised that Hank had been able to go toe-to-toe with him earlier, considering that all members of the Hall of Gods were grandmasters.
“Oh, it’s you, Mr. Styles. My apologies for the oversight.” Lucian led the group of martial artists and greeted him respectfully.
In the esteemed Hall of Gods, the god was revered above all others. Their power and authority were unquestionable. They could determine anyone’s fate with a single word.
“Elder Mason, everyone gathered here are my esteemed guests. The incident earlier was just a minor misunderstanding.
“How about we extend some grace to each other and turn things around for the better?” Hank suggested with a smile.
“Since you have spoken, I won’t argue with this kid.” Garrett shot a wary glance at Dustin. His expression was cautious but controlled.
After all, the purpose of their gathering was for business discussions. Allowing temporary anger to spoil their opportunities would be unwise.
“Thank you, Elder Mason.” Hank nodded appreciatively before casting a meaningful glance at Dustin.
He realized that staying composed during an assault from a grandmaster martial artist was quite impressive. So, he surmised that Dustin was no ordinary guy.
“Mr. Styles, now that everyone is here, can we get down to business?” Garrett got straight to the point without much preamble.
“Elder Mason, one more guest hasn’t shown up yet. Please bear with us for a moment.” Then, Hank clapped his hands.
Soon, a group of maids swiftly entered with trays of assorted fruits and snacks. Even the damaged furniture was also replaced.
“Okay, we’ll wait.” Garrett didn’t say much and took his seat.
The rest followed suit, and they ate the snacks and fruits. Despite the outward calm, occasional glances toward Dustin were filled with hatred.
On the contrary, Dustin calmly sipped his tea. He was unperturbed by the occasional hostile glances thrown his way.
As time passed, anticipation turned into impatience. What was expected to be a short wait had stretched into midday.
Whispers of discontent circulated throughout the room. Even Garrett, known for his composure, couldn’t hide his irritation.
As Garrett finished yet another pot of tea, his frustration boiled over. “Mr. Styles, your guest’s tardiness is beyond rude. It’s already midday, and he’s still nowhere to be seen. It’s obvious he thinks little of us.”
Hank looked embarrassed and forced a smile. “Please, let’s stay calm. The guest may have encountered delays. We’ll wait a bit longer. In the meantime, help yourselves with another round of tea.”
“Another round of tea? I’ve already downed three pots! Any more, and I’ll be fit to burst!” Garrett’s frustration boiled over as he slammed his hand onto the table.
He couldn’t believe the nerve of their tardy guest. The sheer audacity was more than enough to fuel his temper.
