The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 395

“Uncle,” Frederick snapped.

“How could you stand on this loser’s side? He dares demand two hundred million from us? Why don’t we just drag him out and torture him?”

“Loser? Torture me?” Alex let out a low, weary laugh and rubbed his temple as if Frederick’s words gave him a headache.

He raised a single finger, his eyes narrowing. “Three hundred million. If not, I’m walking out right now to heal my emotional hurt. Goodbye.”

He turned toward the door without hesitation.

“Who allowed you to come and go as you please!”

Frederick lunged for him, but before he could touch Alex, Henry’s fist smashed into Frederick’s face with a heavy thud that echoed through the room.

Frederick staggered back, crashing to the floor.

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Uncle… why did you hit me?”

“You useless fool!” Henry’s voice thundered. His face was dark with fury.

“Every time you open your mouth, filth spills out. Get the hell out if you can’t control yourself!”

“Henry, that was too much.” Benjamin’s voice was low, his brow furrowed with anger at seeing his son struck.

“You shut up too!” Henry’s glare cut into him like a blade.

“Our father’s life hangs by a thread, and the help we need is right here! Yet you two are squabbling like children. If something happens to Father, can you bear that responsibility?”

Benjamin bristled, but Henry wasn’t finished. His voice shook with cold rage.

“This should’ve been simple. We could’ve resolved it without spending a dime. But your idiot son provoked him, and now the price has risen to three hundred million.”

“If I let him continue, Alex might demand even more. Are you ready to pay that?”

At that, father and son fell silent, shame and fear flickering across their faces.

The Prescott family’s pride was martial strength, and at its center stood Samuel Prescott—the governor of Lexington, a martial master at the legendary level ninety-nine.

His very presence kept their enemies at bay and the state secure. If he died, the Prescott family would collapse, and their enemies would come crashing down to destroy them.

Henry turned to Alex, his voice firm and respectful.

“Young man, I apologize. I failed to teach my family proper manners. Please forgive their insults. Three hundred million is nothing compared to my father’s life. Save him, and the money is yours.”

Alex’s lips curved into a faint, cold smile. “Wise choice. For a family as wealthy and powerful as the Prescotts, three hundred million is nothing. And don’t forget—your promise to Lyra still stands.”

Frederick’s eyes burned with barely restrained hatred, a flicker of killing intent flashing before he quickly buried it. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay quiet.

“Young man,” Henry pressed, his tone tight but polite, “as long as you save Father, we’ll honor both conditions. Please… begin.”

Alex didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped closer, placing his hand gently on Samuel’s frail one.

Closing his eyes, he read the old man’s body with silent precision.

Samuel had tried to break through to the fabled level one hundred, but without proper technique or guidance, he had nearly torn his body apart from within.

Alex drew in a deep breath. His energy stirred, a tide of power flowing into Samuel’s broken channels.

Slowly, carefully, he seized the chaos ravaging the governor’s body, redirecting it, forcing the wild energy back into order, guiding it toward the correct meridians.

Since Alex had already surpassed level 100, guiding Samuel’s chaotic energy past the final barrier was child’s play.

His control was precise, unshakable, like a master musician tuning an instrument.

Within minutes, Samuel’s body convulsed, his head snapping back as he spat out a thick mouthful of dark, clotted blood.

His eyes rolled back, and he slumped into unconsciousness again.

Benjamin’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Yes.”

He shot Alex a lingering look before turning on his heel.

Alex followed a servant to the living room. Ten minutes later, Benjamin and Frederick entered, carrying a black leather bag.

“Young man, here is your reward,” Benjamin said coldly, tossing the bag at him.

Alex caught it, set it on the table, and unzipped it.

His eyes hardened instantly. “Did you make a mistake? I asked for three hundred million. This is three hundred thousand.”

“Of course not.” Frederick’s sneer twisted his face.

“I checked into you myself. You’re just some back-alley doctor from the slums. The most you’ve ever charged is thirty bucks, maybe.”

“And now you’re holding three hundred thousand in your hands. You should be grateful. Hell, I doubt you’ve ever seen this much money in your pathetic life.”

Alex’s tone turned to ice. “We agreed on three hundred million. It will be three hundred million—not a penny less.”

Frederick’s nostrils flared. His glare was venomous. “You little brat! Don’t push your luck. You may not leave this place alive.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed, his voice cutting like steel. “So that’s it? You break your word and threaten me? Is this what the Prescott family stands for?”

Benjamin stepped closer, his sneer dripping with arrogance. “So what if it is? Look around you. You’re in our house. Open your eyes and understand where you stand.”

Alex let out a low laugh, shaking his head.

“I never thought the mighty Prescott family would stoop so low. All this prestige, all this power, and yet… you’re nothing but liars and cheats. Truly disappointing.”

Frederick’s face twisted in rage. He’d been waiting for this moment, any excuse to strike.

“How dare you insult our family name!” he roared, and with a snarl, he swung his massive fist straight toward Alex’s face.