Walking into Drunken Moon Pavilion, David Lewis’s display was even grander than expected.

After becoming a minor leader, David Lewis had gathered sixty or seventy gang members under his command, all of whom were now assembled in the Drunken Moon Pavilion, glaring menacingly at Edward Sutton.

“Tsk tsk, David Lewis, it seems you’re doing quite well in this position—very impressive.”

The members of the Flying Eagle Gang couldn’t help but look at David Lewis.

Everyone had heard about how he betrayed his own brother to get this minor leader position. Now that the aggrieved party had come knocking, they were curious to see how David Lewis would explain himself.

After all, in the underworld, what matters most is loyalty and honor.

What David Lewis did was truly despised by everyone.

But clearly, everyone underestimated just how shameless David Lewis could be.

Facing Edward Sutton’s questioning, he replied as if it were only natural: “Edward Sutton, don’t blame me. I’m more suited for this position than you. You’re too young to command respect, while I’ve been in the Flying Eagle Gang for over ten years and have countless brothers under me.

Besides, I schemed for so long to get this position, and you just want to take it away as soon as you arrive? Don’t blame me for being ruthless! Loyalty and honor? That’s just for fooling kids!”

Behind David Lewis, Thomas Brooks said lazily, “If you’re going to kill him, just do it. Why waste words?”

“Brother Brooks, how about I let my men test him out first, and then you step in?” David Lewis asked in a low voice.

“Test my ass! If it weren’t for your thousand taels of silver, it’d already be embarrassing enough for me to deal with a youngster. If you want to use a gang-up tactic on top of that, where would I put my face? Do you think I’m like you, David Lewis, who doesn’t care about face at all?”

Thomas Brooks’s words made David Lewis’s face flush red and then pale, but he didn’t dare say anything more.

“Kid, don’t blame me when you die. I’m just taking money to solve someone else’s problem. If you want to blame someone, blame your bad luck for running into me.”

Thomas Brooks stood up and flexed his hands. Under the lamplight, his iron palms gleamed with a dark metallic luster.

“Is that so? But I think you’re the one with bad luck.”

A faint smile appeared at the corner of Edward Sutton’s mouth, but in the next instant, his sword had already thrust out!

The rusty iron sword shot forward at incredible speed and from a cunning angle, instantly startling Thomas Brooks.

Having seen Old Five’s injuries, he thought he understood Edward Sutton’s strength. But as Edward Sutton unleashed this strike, Thomas Brooks realized he had seriously underestimated Edward Sutton!

At the brink of life and death, Thomas Brooks’s instincts, honed by over a decade of martial arts and fighting, kicked in.

Just as Edward Sutton’s sword was about to pierce his neck, Thomas Brooks suddenly stomped his right foot down, cracking the bluestone floor and causing his body to tilt to the right, letting the sword edge pass by his neck.

“Clang!” With a sound, Edward Sutton’s sword was gripped tightly in Thomas Brooks’s hand.

His hands instantly turned pitch black, shining with a metallic sheen.

Iron Sand Palm, when cultivated to the extreme, could shatter metal and stone—a mere iron sword couldn’t hurt him.

Thomas Brooks let out a long breath, a slight smile appearing on his lips. “What a fast and vicious strike! But your strength is still too… uh!”

He didn’t finish his sentence—not because he didn’t want to, but because his throat had already been pierced by Edward Sutton!

A chopstick was stuck in Thomas Brooks’s throat—a simple bamboo chopstick that Edward Sutton had casually picked up while eating soup dumplings earlier.

Harold Jennings’s sword was wielded with the left hand, and its angles were cunning and sinister.

But in fact, his true specialty was the right-hand sword!

Just now, Edward Sutton had used his right hand to stab the chopstick into Thomas Brooks’s throat, and no one present had even reacted.

In everyone’s common sense, a swordsman who deliberately trained with the left hand would never also train with the right, but Harold Jennings was an exception, and since Edward Sutton had learned his swordsmanship, he was an exception too.

David Lewis stared at Edward Sutton in disbelief.

Thomas Brooks was actually dead? Thomas Brooks, whose strength far surpassed that of an ordinary minor leader, had been killed by Edward Sutton in just two moves?

Seeing Edward Sutton walking toward him, David Lewis immediately shoved a gang member at Edward Sutton and turned to run.

The gang member was stunned with fear, and by the time he realized what was happening, David Lewis had already pushed him in front of Edward Sutton!

David Lewis’s actions made the gang member curse him inwardly, but he could only watch helplessly as he collided with the killer Edward Sutton.

“At critical moments, betraying your own brothers—David Lewis, this really is your specialty.”

Edward Sutton took a step forward, moving with astonishing speed, instantly dodging past the gang member and thrusting his sword, pinning David Lewis to the ground.

Although he only had a trace of inner strength in his body, both his power and speed had increased by more than ten percent. For David Lewis to try to escape ahead of him was simply courting death.

Slowly walking up to David Lewis, Edward Sutton pulled his sword from the body, then turned to the crowd and said, “David Lewis is dead. From now on, I’m in charge here. Who’s in favor? Who’s against?”

With Edward Sutton’s gaze sweeping over them, all the Flying Eagle Gang members present felt a chill run down their spines.