Becoming the Richest Man Alive

Chapter 61

The sight of Casper’s arrogant face made Brandon’s blood boil. Blinded by rage, Brandon slashed frenziedly through the air at the broom but was baffled to find that his knife made no mark on the broom whatsoever.

On the other hand, Brandon felt a searing pain each time the broom landed unfeelingly on his body.

It was the middle of summer, and Brandon was attired solely in a light cotton t-shirt. This afforded Brandon no protection whatsoever from the heavy blows of the broom.

Brandon seemed to have returned to a nightmarish version of his childhood. He was once again being disciplined for his disobedience, only ten times more brutally than any punishment Brandon had ever received.

“I’ll kill you!” Tormented by the pain, Brandon glowered at Casper with a murderous gleam in his eye. He rubbed his back fervently, attempting to soothe his agony, but to no avail.

Immensely humiliated, Brandon weighed his knife in his other hand. He could not fathom how this knife, which had so easily sliced the other into half, could have been defeated by a mere broom. It was even more confounding that Brandon had received such a severe beating from this lean youth.

“Don’t you think it’s time to start putting your money where your mouth is? Stop saying you’ll kill me and do it!” Casper challenged, looking at Brandon with an expression of exaggerated disdain. “Your knife is a good one. I had my eye on it, but you know what they say. Every inch counts, doesn’t it?”

“Go to hell!” Brandon bawled. His dignity was at stake and he was ready to defend it at all costs.

Brandon had learned from his earlier mistake. Instead of charging recklessly towards Casper, Brandon inched forward, biding his time to seize the best opportunity to strike.

“Stop your bravado. Prove it with your actions. Come on! I’m still waiting,” Casper said. He had instantly seen through Brandon’s plan and had begun pacing, seemingly casually, down the length of the room. He winked at Brandon, then wiggled his little finger at him.

When encountering sly rogues like Brandon, one had to be equally wily, if not more. Besides, Casper had figured out early on that triggering Brandon’s anger was the key to incapacitating him.

“I’ll kill you!” Brandon repeated doggedly. His hand was already aiming the knife towards Casper’s stomach. Brandon braced himself for retaliation by covering his head with his right hand, then sprinted forward.

Casper, fortunately, had already anticipated Brandon’s next move. As Brandon’s fingers closed around the handle of his knife, Casper, too, had already grabbed his broom. Casper hit Brandon mercilessly on the head multiple times as leisurely as if he was swatting a fly. The amount of strength with which Casper delivered those blows, however, far exceeded his previous force.

Brandon ignored the pain shooting up his arm, enduring it in pursuit of his ultimate goal. When he was almost standing next to Casper, Brandon summoned all his strength to plunge the knife into Casper’s side.

Just as the knife was mere inches away from Casper’s belly, the broom came crashing down on the arm wielding the knife. Brandon instinctively reached forward with his left arm to block it. In that instant, there was the ear-splitting sound of bone breaking, as if a stick had snapped into two.

“Ah!” Brandon yelped in pain. It sounded as terrible as the squeals from a slaughterhouse. Brandon instantly dropped the knife and cradled his broken arm, keening in agony.

“How… How do you have so much inner energy?” Brandon stammered. He stared dazedly at Casper, a look of confusion and fright on his face.

Brandon had witnessed seasoned practitioners of various martial arts harness inner energy before. They were, however, mostly older folk who had spent years honing their craft to perfection. One had to be familiar with all sorts of weapons, to the extent that wielding it felt like an extension of one’s body.

Inner energy was thus a general term used to describe the hidden strength that one possessed. One was far more vulnerable to an invisible danger than an obvious threat.

“Wow, someone who knows what he’s talking about, finally. Do you think you’re still capable of killing me, then?” Casper asked, casting a glance at the shiny knife, now lying perfectly still on the ground. He stepped forward and kicked the knife behind him. “Are you going to surrender on your own accord, or do you need me to beat it out of you?”

Without waiting for Brandon to respond, Casper had already raised the broom in his hand and brought it decisively down on Brandon’s body. Ten blows followed in quick succession. Unable to withstand the force of the multiple hits, Brandon’s traumatized body collapsed onto the ground.

Brandon, however, refused to concede. Glaring at Casper, he choked, “Have you had enough? You’re going to beat me to death!”

“Sorry, sorry. I thought that was the intention,” Casper replied pleasantly.

The sight of Casper’s unrepentant face upset Brandon more than any physical injury could have done.

Brandon had been utterly humiliated that day. As a human trafficker, Brandon had already compromised his basic human morality. Casper’s actions had now affirmed that Brandon was worth little more than an animal to be cruelly tortured and beaten at will. Reflecting on his pathetic state, Brandon felt tears spontaneously well up in his eyes.

How could I have been so unlucky to have met this fellow? Brandon thought bitterly. He looked like a wimp! Who would have thought he’d be such a terror to deal with?

“If you let me go, I’ll return all of the money to you! You can take that girl, too!” Brandon’s tone had grown feeble, almost pleading. His body was beginning to ache with every blow that Casper had inflicted on his body.

“Let you go? Don’t you think you should leave something else behind, like the monastery’s treasure, for example?” Casper asked aggravatingly. “You punk! Return everything that you’ve stolen!”

Brandon took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “Does this mean that you’ll release me as long as I hand those things over?” This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

“Mr. Cabot, you seem to be mistaken. I’m the one holding the figurative knife to your throat right now. You’re not in the position to negotiate. Hand everything over!” Casper mocked, rolling his eyes. He stepped forward and towered over Brandon, fixing him with a stern look.

“Hey, aren’t you afraid I’ll take revenge on you? Don’t be too greedy!” Brandon retorted. Even from his lying position on the ground, he managed to direct a vicious look at Casper.

“Why would I be afraid? I think you won’t even be able to live beyond this month. You’re under investigation for murder, and I’m fully confident that they’ll be able to find everything out. Don’t worry. On the day you’re given your sentence, I’ll surely be there to send you off,” Casper said with a smirk.

Without wasting another second, Casper immediately began searching Brandon for the treasure map. He examined it for a moment then hooted with laughter. It looked just like an illustration done by a child.

“What… What are you laughing at?” Brandon stuttered nervously.