The car followed the winding Mountain Road and entered the grand iron gate of a mountainside villa.
"Aren’t you guys from Seashore? Whose villa is this?"
Wesley Roth got out of the car with Samantha Tate, took the car keys from Carson Flores, and put them in his pocket. "Naturally, this isn’t a property of the Miller Family. It’s just borrowed for use. After all, making a ruckus in the city isn’t good for our image."
Leading Samantha Tate to the front door of the villa, Wesley Roth turned around. Simultaneously, the main hall doors of the villa opened, and Oscar Miller walked out.
"Lovely lady, we meet again."
Oscar Miller’s face bore the smile of someone superior, his tone frivolous, his eyes on Samantha Tate like a wolf eying a lamb coming into its den: "You look really beautiful today. Oh, right, it’s your birthday today. What a wonderful day it is."
Samantha Tate replied with a cold face, "Smiling to my face, yet stabbing me in the back—is it the way of all rich heirs to be as despicable and shameless as you?"
Oscar Miller laughed nonchalantly. "It’s the wilderness here, even if something happens, no one would hear it. You’re still being to me, could it be you think I don’t dare to do anything to you?"
Samantha Tate snorted coldly, "I’m not naive enough to think that a few sweet words would make you release me. So, why should I be polite?"
Oscar Miller chuckled, "That makes sense. Now that you’re here, I really should do my duty as a host."
Standing down the steps, Carson Flores looked around and then glared at Wesley Roth, who stood before Oscar Miller, and joked, "Such a big villa, yet there’s only the two of you. Feels a bit empty, eh?"
Oscar Miller eyed Carson Flores, his gaze narrowing slightly. "At this point, you’re still so composed. Seems like you have a lot of confidence in your abilities."
Carson Flores replied with a grin, "Whether I’m good enough, well, that’s something we have to fight to know. If I really can’t beat you, then I’ll just run away. It’s easier to escape in these mountains and wilds."
Oscar Miller sneered, "Run away? Are you not planning to look after your girlfriend?"
Carson Flores shrugged nonchalantly, "If I can fight you off, of course I’ll take care of her. If I can’t, then staying would be pointless; I couldn’t protect her even if I wanted to, right, Samantha?"
Hearing Carson Flores’ words, Samantha Tate, who had been keeping a stern face, suddenly burst into a radiant smile.
"Exactly! Other than having a background to flaunt, Oscar Miller has nothing noteworthy. Big brother, with one hand you could take him down. It’s that old guy you really can’t beat. Brother, just run as fast as you can, and when you find an opportunity where he’s alone, give him a taste of what I’ve suffered, double."
Carson Flores snapped his fingers with a beaming smile, "Deal!"
Oscar Miller’s expression darkened, his gaze turning cold as he stared at Carson Flores. "If you really have the ability to escape from Uncle Roth, I’ll release Samantha Tate immediately and leave Polgel the moment you do. But if you can’t escape, I will be forced to invite you to enjoy a spectacle."
Carson Flores glanced at Oscar Miller but ignored him, instead turning to face Wesley Roth.
"Come on, big shot, let’s see how strong you really are."
Wesley Roth approached Carson Flores with arrogant steps. "You may have killed Jamie Webb, but that means nothing. In the path of martial arts, there are heavens beyond heaven, people beyond people!"
Oscar Miller commanded coldly, "Uncle Roth, cripple his limbs, ruin his martial arts, but leave him breathing."
Wesley Roth advanced two steps and then suddenly lunged forward, transforming into an arrow that instantly closed in on Carson Flores, unleashing a punch.
This punch was devoid of any fancy technique, simple and brutal.
It was so fast that the human eye struggled to follow, but it did not hit Carson Flores.
In a split second, Carson Flores sidestepped, evading the punch. The air it displaced made his hair flutter.
Wesley Roth’s brows furrowed slightly, he spun on his foot, and threw another punch, quicker than the last.
Carson Flores dodged again, though with less ease than before.
Wesley Roth smirked as his fists pounded like hammers in rapid succession, each faster than the last, all aiming for Carson Flores.
Carson Flores weaved like a butterfly through the onslaught, dodging Wesley Roth’s fierce combo. However, his movements grew more strained and unable to keep up.
When Wesley Roth launched the seventh punch, Carson Flores could no longer evade and was forced to cross his arms over his chest to block it.
A look of smug satisfaction appeared in Wesley Roth’s eyes—weren’t you quick on your feet?
This punch is going to send you flying!
Wesley Roth’s fist landed heavily on Carson Flores’ arms, and Carson Flores’ body, as if weightless, was sent flying backward.
Wesley Roth paused, something felt off.
Why didn’t he feel any recoil? It was as if the guy had thrown himself into the punch to be deliberately sent flying.
Wesley Roth’s eyes followed the somersaulting Carson Flores, passing his eyes that held a mocking chill, and focused on Oscar Miller not far behind him.
A chill settled in Wesley Roth’s heart, as if plunging into an ice cellar.
"Young master, watch out!"