Chapter 796
Aspen, who was behind the wheel, glanced at Michael with a cold expression. “Oh, it’s you, Michael. I have to ask, why the hell were you standing in the middle of the road like a damn utility pole? Trying to get yourself killed?”
Michael exploded. “Aspen, you’re the one trying to get yourself killed! You hit me—pay up!”
Without hesitation, Aspen pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and casually tossed it onto the ground. “There. Take it and go get yourself checked out, Michael.”
Michael stared at the bill, his fury skyrocketing. “You bitch! How dare you humiliate me? Do you have a death wish?!”
He lunged at Aspen from behind, raising his leg to kick her. However, Aspen was no ordinary woman—she was a junior grandmaster at her peak. Without even turning her head, she sneered and swung her elbow back in a ruthless counterattack.
Her strike landed squarely against Michael’s face, sending blood spurting from his nose as he crashed to the ground, groaning in pain.
Aspen shot him a look of pure disdain. “Pathetic.”
Without sparing him another glance, she climbed back into the Bentley, and with Christina beside her, they sped off.
As the car passed Andrew, Christina lowered her window, casting him a cold, piercing glance. Andrew remained expressionless. For a moment, their gazes locked; in midair sparks seemed to fly.
Michael clambered up from the ground, nose bleeding, and screamed, “Chase them! I swear to God, I’ll kill that bitch! I’ll make her pay!”
Andrew ignored his tantrum and leisurely walked over to pick up the hundred-dollar bill from the ground. Then, without hesitation, he stuffed it into his pocket right in front of Michael.
Michael gawked at him, utterly baffled. “Andrew, are you seriously keeping that measly hundred bucks?”
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “A hundred bucks is still money. I can be stubborn about a lot of things, but one thing I’ll never go against is money.”
Michael, still pressing tissues against his nose, gritted his teeth. “But that’s my medical bill! Why the hell do you get to take it?”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “You said you didn’t want it. And besides, money left on the ground? Finder’s keepers.”
Michael was rendered speechless. Andrew was not bothered to argue further. He motioned for Michael to get in the car and floored the gas pedal.
Unlike Michael’s sloppy driving, Andrew’s skills were on a completely different level. The difference between the two of them was like night and day.
He tore through multiple consecutive sharp turns without even braking, drifting through each one with absolute control.
At first, Michael thought it was thrilling. Then, as the speed increased, his face turned pale, then green.
After that, he started retching violently.
By the time Andrew took another high-speed drift, Michael was clutching his stomach and dry heaving. “I can’t—slow down! We need to stop! If you keep driving like this, I’m going to die!”
Andrew casually shifted gears and accelerated again, the car roaring as it shot past another tight turn.
Only then did he glance at Michael. “What was that? You want me to speed up? Alright. Your wish is my command!”
Michael’s eyes turned bloodshot as he shrieked, “I said slow down! Let me out! Not speed up!”
He shouted, “Slow down! Hit the damn brakes! Brake—”
Andrew nodded. “Got it. Accelerating now.”
Half an hour later, Andrew had completely outpaced Aspen’s Bentley, leaving it far behind in the dust. They were the first to arrive at The Southern Highlands.
As soon as Andrew parked, Michael tumbled out of the car like a rolling barrel. His eyes were bloodshot, his face deathly pale, and his entire body was drenched in sweat. He was covered in his own vomit, stinking to high heaven.
Andrew straightened his suit, ignoring Michael’s sorry state, and turned his attention to the monastery before them. Without hesitation, he strode inside.
The moment he stepped in, a familiar voice rang through the air. “I’m Harvey Weller, and I’m here to pay respects to you, Master Shiloh!”