Linda King's expression remained calm and quiet, her fair wrist holding the sword without the slightest tremor, as if the recent fight and the bloodshed before her were nothing but an illusion, unable to stir even the faintest ripple in her heart.

But a bone-chilling coldness rose from the base of Ethan Brooks's spine, instantly spreading through his limbs and bones, making him even forget the searing pain in his palms. He had no doubt that if he or his men made any further move, the sharp sword piercing his palms would, without hesitation, pierce his throat.

In fact, the gleaming tip of the sword was less than seven inches from his neck. With just a bit more force from Linda King, a third bloody hole would immediately appear on his body.

"Mr. Xiao, it was my ignorance that offended a true master. Mr. Brooks offers you my sincerest apologies. But, Mr. Xiao, if you just leave like this, you might as well kill me with your sword. If I'm doomed to die sooner or later, I'd rather die quickly!"

Ethan Brooks couldn't see David Harris; these words were addressed to Linda King.

Linda King stood between him and David Harris.

Everyone was shocked.

No one expected that even in such a disadvantageous situation, Ethan Brooks would not retreat a single step. It was truly hard to imagine just how important that so-called Wuyang wood was to him.

"Seventh Brother, shut up!"

Seeing Ethan Brooks still so unyielding, William Grant grew anxious and shouted sharply.

David Harris released his two fingers, letting go of William Grant's ox-head cane.

William Grant staggered back two steps, looking at David Harris with a gaze full of shock and fear.

David Harris slowly stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Linda King, his eyes fixed on the faintly purple, foul-smelling blood trickling down the sword blade. His brows furrowed slightly as he spoke softly, "Boss Brooks, the Yanluo Poison Hand is indeed formidable, but you must proceed step by step; you can't overuse the medicine. You've already lost control."

Ethan Brooks gave a bitter smile, enduring the waves of pain in his palms as beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Mr. Xiao, you truly are a great master. Mr. Brooks overestimated myself, but I had no other choice."

After hearing William Grant's rebuke, Ethan Brooks finally understood that the gap in strength between himself and the other side was simply too great—they weren't even on the same level. Even Old Grant was defeated in a single move, let alone him, Old Edward Brooks.

David Harris sighed lightly and said, "Grace."

Linda King's wrist gave a slight flick, and that extremely thin, sharp sword swiftly withdrew from Ethan Brooks's palms. With another flick, the sword vibrated rapidly like a steel wire, and in just a moment, the blood droplets on the blade were shaken off completely. The sword gleamed coldly, spotless and as bright as new, without a trace of blood.

Ethan Brooks cried out, stumbling back several steps until his back pressed against the main door of the trading hall, finally steadying himself. Looking at his blood-soaked palms, he was momentarily at a loss.

"Seventh Master..."

Several of his men rushed forward. One took off his shirt and tore it into strips with a ripping sound, hurriedly bandaging Ethan Brooks's wounds.

"Quick, call a doctor!"

Henry, whose wrist had been cut, shouted hoarsely.

David Harris said, "Boss Brooks, to treat the poison of the Yanluo Poison Hand, bloodletting from the palm is actually one of the methods. Just bandage it simply; don't be in a rush to stop the bleeding."

Ethan Brooks gritted his teeth and said, "Thank you for your guidance."

David Harris pondered for a moment and said, "Boss Brooks, let's talk privately."

Ethan Brooks's eyes immediately lit up, and he said in surprise and delight, "Mr. Xiao, what did you say? Talk privately?"

"Yes."

David Harris nodded slightly and stepped forward.

Linda King quietly followed behind, her steps light and silent.

The dozen or so burly men in chaos at the door saw David Harris walking over and couldn't help but grip their knives tightly, yet they all made way, their eyes filled with a mix of awe and unspeakable fear as they looked at the two.

After so many years in the underworld, only today did they truly witness what a real top master was.

A ruthless figure like Edward Brooks couldn't even put up a defense!

"Quick, go open the presidential suite downstairs... hurry..."

Ethan Brooks called out anxiously.

Having just escaped death, Edward Brooks was drenched in cold sweat, yet still maintained his toughness, never losing the bearing of a true boss. Now, suddenly seeing a glimmer of hope, even someone as reserved as Edward Brooks could no longer remain calm.

After all, people need hope to carry on.

The presidential suite at Qingyuan Grand Hotel was in no way inferior to those in famous five-star hotels—luxurious, spacious, and resplendent.

"Please, please, Mr. Xiao, Little King... Miss King, please have a seat!"

Ethan Brooks had hastily bandaged his hands, the cloth strips already soaked red with blood, but at this moment, he couldn't care less. Besides, David Harris had made it clear that bloodletting was part of the treatment. Although Ethan Brooks wasn't an expert in medicine, he could see that the blood flowing from his palms was tinged with a faint purple, not the usual bright or dark red, which was a sign of the poisonous blood gathering.

David Harris sat gently on the luxurious leather sofa.

Linda King still stood quietly to the side, the extremely thin and sharp sword nowhere to be seen—no one knew where she had hidden it.