"You bastard," Alex said, voice razor-sharp and deadly calm.
"You've got exactly five seconds to release her. If you don't, none of you bastards are walking out of here alive."
The room erupted in an instant—laughter and mockery swept through Hugh Jones’ crew like a brushfire, loud and vicious.
"Who the hell does this fool think he is? Threatening Hugh Jones? He's got a death wish!"
"Drop to your knees if you value your life, kid!"
"This brat's got some nerve!"
Angry murmurs swirled violently, insults hurled like bullets.
Hugh raised his hand, silencing the uproar, a thin smile stretching across his lips.
“Easy now, everyone,” Hugh said smoothly, stepping forward with a chilling calm in his eyes.
“Let me deal with our little intruder—he clearly doesn’t know who I am yet. But don’t worry… once he does, regret will be the only thing he feels.”
He stopped, sizing Alex up with smug disdain. "You must be Alex. Here’s your one chance—get down and lick my boots, and maybe I’ll let you live."
Alex smirked, eyes like steel. "Cute offer. How about you kiss my boot instead, and I'll spare your sorry excuse of a life."
Hugh’s grin vanished, replaced by a cold fury.
"Do you have any idea who you’re messing with, kid? Just because you managed to knock around a few people, you think you’re something special? Those insects you beat? They’re nothing but garbage—just like you."
"You're wasting your five seconds," Alex warned, his tone icy and merciless.
Hugh laughed bitterly. "I admire your guts, even if you’re about to lose them."
Without warning, Alex lunged forward, a sudden, fierce blur.
Hugh’s eyes widened in shock, barely reacting in time to block the incoming kick.
"You little—!"
But his arrogant sneer dissolved into pure horror as Alex’s foot slammed into his arms with crushing force, hurling him backward like he'd been struck by a freight train.
He crashed through tables, sending splinters and dishes flying, demolishing everything in his path until his body smashed into the wall with a sickening crack.
Dust billowed, plaster falling in chunks around Hugh’s crumpled body.
Alex turned immediately toward Jasmine, eyes softening as he saw the blood trickling from her forehead.
"Are you okay? Does it hurt badly?"
Her eyes shimmered with tears, the tough mask she'd worn collapsing into raw, aching vulnerability.
“It hurts,” she whispered, voice fragile and shaking. “It really hurts…”
Without hesitation, Alex pulled out a small bottle of pills. “Take this. It'll ease the pain.”
But Jasmine barely moved. She gave a faint shake of her head, her lips parting just enough to speak.
“Give it to me… yourself,” she breathed, her eyes locked onto his, full of trust and silent desperation.
Alex lowered himself beside her, his movements slow and careful. With tender precision, he brought the pill to her lips, his fingers brushing her skin like a whisper.
As she accepted it, he summoned his inner force, hands steady as he worked.
With a delicate touch, he extracted the slivers of glass buried deep in her heads wound, guiding the energy of his strength into her torn flesh.
Before their eyes, the gash began to seal, muscle and skin weaving back together with an unnatural grace—smooth, silent, and almost unreal.
Suddenly overcome, Jasmine flung her arms around him, burying her face into his chest.
"What took you so damn long?" she choked out.
Alex sighed softly, holding her close.
"Sorry," he murmured, a faint smile on his lips. "Traffic was terrible."
Across the room, Hugh painfully dragged himself upright, eyes blazing with hatred.
"Kill him! Tear him apart!" he roared, commanding his followers.
Instantly, five ruthless figures surged forward, eyes gleaming with murderous intent.
Number Four turned pale, horror etched deeply on his face. "Those…those are the Five Giants! Murderers who’ve slaughtered cops and important politicians!"
His companion’s voice shook with dread. "He’s finished. They’ll rip him to shreds!"
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