The answer was his dear son, Jimmy Hampton. I wasn't aware that Hank knew his sons coveted his position as head of the family. However, he never expected his son would be so cruel to him for it! Hank was so enraged that he vomited blood upon hearing this answer. He nearly fainted several times. Fortunately, Sidney heard the news and came to his aid.

When Hank finally calmed down, he looked at Richard. Richard, his youngest son, possessed an extraordinary mind since childhood; his intelligence was almost demonic. No one dared underestimate him. Richard was already highly successful and didn't need to rely on the Hampton family. He used his intellect to control his vast business empire. He was born for a superior position, standing at the pinnacle of power. The Hampton family's survival depended on his stunning abilities.

On the other hand, Jimmy foolishly believed that replacing Hank as head of the family would allow him to control Richard and the empire. Ridiculous. Hank waved his hand and said, "You deal with it," then turned and left.

Jimmy's ambition was exposed; it was a desperate gamble, and failure was predictable. Yet, no one lacked a profound fear of death. Richard's gaze was disdainful, his eyes cold. He stood casually, like a frost-covered cypress—straight and cold.

"Send him away," Richard said. His words were ethereal yet cruel in the silent night. 'Send me away? Send me where?' Jimmy thought, dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to plead, only then realizing that Richard, his half-brother, twenty-four years his junior, exerted a suffocating pressure, like a mountain! It was overwhelming. Then, someone dragged Jimmy away.

From beginning to end, Richard remained calm, his eyebrows unmoving. For years, he'd known Jimmy's schemes, but hadn't cared. How could a mere ant shake an elephant?

When Hannah heard the news and rushed over, she immediately created a commotion, demanding to see Hank. She made such a noise that the servants at Hannah Manor were helpless. Richard glanced over nonchalantly. "Do you want me to pull out your tongue?" Hannah immediately fell silent.

The farce ended. Richard was about to leave when the butler rushed in, reporting, "Mr. Harper was assassinated en route. His whereabouts are unknown"

Kenneth was covered in blood. More than ten assassins pursued him relentlessly. Two slashes on his thigh and three on his back, deep enough to expose bone, were each potentially fatal! He somehow avoided fainting, running with all his might, nearing his limit. Several times, Kenneth thought he would die, but a fierce unwillingness propelled him onward. He gritted his teeth and continued to escape. "Someone will come to save me," Kenneth thought.

Exhausted, Kenneth's legs gave way, and he fell. He tried to rise but saw glaring headlights. Before discerning friend from foe, his eyes closed, and he fainted. Coincidentally, the assassins were closing in. An assassin's bloodstained dagger gleamed under the moonlight Just as he was about to strike, an arrow flew, sending the dagger spinning. Had he not retracted his hand quickly, the arrow would have pierced his wrist.

The assassin shouted angrily, "Who is it?" He turned to see a young girl with delicate features emerging from the car, holding a bow. She was the archer. "Mind your own business," the assassin snarled. "You're courting death!"

Several assassins attacked, but Tiffany's archery was terrifyingly accurate. Before they could reach her, three were injured. Her arrows seemed to have eyes; her skill was terrifying. Despite their chaotic advance, she always found opportunities to strike their most vulnerable points. The arrowheads were sharp, possibly poisoned—ruthless and cunning!

The assassins, who had pursued Kenneth like a cat after a mouse, were now in disarray.

(Chapter 167)

Just as they were about to kill Kenneth and flee, another woman emerged from the car. She seemed skilled; a fight would favor them. Tiffany frowned, threateningly. "Get lost!"

The assassins, defeated and helpless, turned and fled. Tiffany ran to the unconscious man. "Jeremy, Je—" The name caught in her throat. It wasn't Jeremy; it was the near-dead Kenneth! Tiffany was distraught. She'd smelled medicine and seen a figure resembling Jeremy being chased; she'd subconsciously rescued the wrong person.

Tiffany yelled at the fleeing assassins, "Hey! Let's discuss this. Come back and finish your mission. I promise I won't interfere, okay?"

One assassin, clutching his arrow wound, turned to curse her before running faster. Tiffany was speechless. June, seeing Tiffany's rare embarrassment, laughed. "Miss, your luck is ahem, hard to explain." Tiffany was even more despondent. Enraged, she slapped Kenneth's face. "Why did you have to get here before me, you bastard!"

Whether due to her forceful blow or Kenneth's weakened state, he wasn't killed but spat out blood. Kenneth slowly opened his eyes. Tiffany, caught off guard, covered her face, blood now staining her. In the darkness, Kenneth saw her star-bright eyes. Dazed, he weakly asked, "Did you save me?" Tiffany wanted to kill him but suppressed the impulse. She couldn't afford trouble.

A car roared nearby. Richard's men were likely approaching. Tiffany rose to leave when Kenneth grabbed her hand. "Tell me your name," he said.