His Lordship Alexander Kane by Useless Caesar

Chapter 0350

At the heart of Zabaleta, the Ol‘ Mare Seaside Grand Hotel stood silent as a tomb.

The hotel was a ghost town, its staff and patrons chased off by a squad of burly men in black, leaving

only three men lounging in the lobby.

Alexander, George Pay.

“This is some fine Colombian Gold coffee. Excellent flavor.”

Alexander cradled his cup, savoring the vibrant coffee with an air of ease, ignoring the men in black–

about 20 of them–standing guard. He flashed a smile and offered, “George, Ray, have a taste.”

George and Ray, aware of Alexander’s real identity as ‘Sir Kane‘, did not bother with the muscle around

them. They joined in the coffee session, the mood light and easy.

“So, you’re the big shot running Ol‘ Mare city, Alexander?”

A young woman in a classic dress stood out from the crowd of men in black, her eyes fixed on the trio.

Her

voice was melodious, almost enchanting. “Five years back, my cousin, young and foolish, made a huge

blunder. However, that’s Saunders family business, nothing to do with Mister Kane.

“Tell me, why are you stepping in to help Andrew, Mister Kane? Are you looking to pick a fight with the

Saunders family? Or do you really think you can rule Ol‘ Mare and be untouchable?”

The woman was breathtaking, her presence alone commanding the room.

Despite being a woman in a male–dominated family, she stood as the brightest star among the

Saunders‘

young generation. Even her father, Blaine Saunders, would fall silent in her commanding presence.

Her authority was a gift from the family’s revered elder, a testament to her brilliance as Saunders‘

unparalleled

chief advisor.

“You must be quite sharp to deduce that Andrew got his intel from me, but you’re still playing in the

minor leagues.”

Alexander took a leisurely sip of his coffee, his voice calm and measured. “Being young and foolish

doesn’t excuse your cousin’s blunder, nor does it concern the Saunders family. An eye for an eye;

that’s the way of the

world.”

With those words, his gaze casually swept across the Saunders clan and said icily, “Go back to where

you came from. I’d like to enjoy my coffee in peace.”

The moment Alexander finished, over 20 Saunders bodyguards stepped up, their eyes locked on

Alexander and his companions, ready to leap into action at the slightest provocation.

“No one dares to be so bold against the Saunders family,” the young miss declared. At her side, her

father, the formidable Blaine Saunders, gripped a jagged iron blade, his eyes dark and stern on

Alexander. “Remember, this isn’t Ol‘ Mare. You’re in Zabaleta now.

“In Zabaleta, the Saunders family is untouchable, and you are no exception to this unwritten rule.”

+15 BONOS

The man before him, his presence swelling with an almost palpable intensity, was like a predator on the

verge of attack. His eyes glinted with a lethal light, and the iron blade he wielded was enveloped in a

visible swirl of energy–a sure sign of a formidable warrior.

Alexander merely shook his head, a wry smile on his lips, as he ignored Blaine’s posturing.

Alexander shook his head with a smile, completely ignoring Blaine. He arranged the coffee set,

preparing coffee by steeping it with hot water.

Only after attending to his coffee did he look up at Blaine, his voice calm and measured, “Thinking of

challenging me? You’re not in my league. There’s still time to walk away.”

“Presumptuous,” Blaine snapped, his grip on the iron blade tightening. He was the Saunders family’s

pride, the eldest son of the patriarch, a man who had eschewed the cutthroat world of business for the

discipline of martial arts. Not yet fifty, and he had already reached the zenith of his power, his energy

unceasing, the family’s undisputed champion.

While the other leading families of Zabaleta–the Ledgers and the Campbells–spent fortunes to hire

Envoys, the Saunders never had the need. With Blaine as their guardian, their position was rock–solid.

“Andrew’s death, my nephew’s blood, is on your hands. You’re as guilty as he was!”

With a swift twist of his wrist, the rough iron sword sliced through the air, leaving a trail as bright and

pure as a ribbon of white silk, hurtling toward Alexander’s head.

“Join the ranks of the dead beneath my blade, and atone for my nephew’s life!”

His attack was lightning–fast, its power seemingly limitless.

The sword strike, majestic as a cascade of stars tumbling from the heavens, was fueled by the man’s

own force, his body and the sword’s momentum in perfect harmony, intent on splitting Alexander right

down the middle.

The sheer energy of the swing whipped up a storm within the hotel lobby, a force so mighty that even a

fighter community’s Grandmaster would meet their end.

“I’ve told you before, you’re out of your league challenging me.”

Alexander cradled his cup in his left hand, the rim just brushing his lips as he took an indifferent sip.

With his right hand, he raised a slightly bent middle finger and flicked it effortlessly.

The sword was sent flying!

The once formidable iron sword was then hurtling out of Blaine’s hand, almost ripping through his flesh.

The sword spun wildly through the air. With a resounding ‘clang‘, it buried itself deep into the concrete

wall of the hotel lobby, a good eight meters away.

The so–called supreme grand martial was bested in a single move!