Matthew frowned at Vincent's order. The latter seemed accustomed to such situations.

A murderous intent surged within Matthew. "Just the two of them?"

Vincent recoiled, sneering. "You're not convinced? Those two are champions in the Octagonal Arena. You don't stand a chance against either," he asserted.

"Alright," Vincent snapped, seeing Matthew's impassive expression. "Since you're so tough, I'll spice things up for you. First, we'll beat you until your skin is torn and your flesh is mangled. Then, we'll salt the water and throw you in," he threatened.

Matthew's eye twitched. Vincent seemed demonic, spouting such cruelty without hesitation.

Matthew said, "You're truly ruthless. Do you understand the consequences of your actions?"

Vincent looked coldly at Matthew. "Consequences? The only consequence is your agonizing pain, a pain that will make you wish for death. Eventually, you'll be on your knees, begging for mercy," he menaced. "At that point, you'll willingly hand over the Medieval Medicine."

He waved at two burly men. "Hurry up and get started."

They approached Matthew, one from each side. The man on the left grabbed Matthew's clothes, about to use his wrestling skills to subdue him.

But before he could act, Matthew's fist moved like lightning, striking with a resounding bang before swiftly retracting. It was so fast, only an afterimage remained.

His grip loosened; his hands flew to his throat, where Matthew had struck. He could only gurgle, unable to speak a complete sentence. Clutching his throat, he collapsed.

Vincent's eyes widened in disbelief. "You… how… how could you beat a champion of the Octagonal Arena?"

Seeing his colleague fall so easily, the other burly man eyed Matthew with dread. Circling him, he lunged, his right fist aimed at Matthew's temple.

However, Matthew's right foot shot out, kicking the man's knee with great force. The sickening sound of breaking bones echoed as the knee bent backward at an unnatural angle. His fist missed its target; the burly man fell, screaming, "Ah! My leg!"

Matthew walked over and kicked him in the head. His screams ceased; there was no further movement.

Vincent turned pale with fear. "You… you… you…" He repeated the word, unable to utter anything else.

Next to him, Ivan's legs weakened. His eyes, filled with fear and shock, were fixed on Matthew.

Matthew extended his hand. "Give me the Tiger Seal."

Vincent hesitated, then nodded. "Alright, I'll give you the Tiger Seal. I'll go to my room and get it now." He turned and walked into the suite.

At that moment, the corner of his mouth curled; his hand slowly reached toward his waist. He slowly pulled out a gun and gently disengaged the safety.

Matthew noticed Vincent's right shoulder move and clenched his fist. Vincent heard footsteps behind him. "The Tiger Seal is of great importance. Aside from its symbolic significance, its value alone exceeds one billion dollars," he said. "Even if you get it, you might not live through the day."

Matthew replied coldly, "That's none of your concern."

Vincent smirked coldly. He didn't want to say more to someone about to die. He took two steps forward, swiftly turning and aiming the gun.

A massive fist struck Vincent's head with a bang. His vision faded to black. He collapsed, the gun slipping from his hand.