His Lordship Alexander Kane by Useless Caesar

Chapter 0646 The man hit the ground hard, and Alexander's words hung in the air like steel. The shops, the stalls, the tourists—all fell into a deathly hush.

Eyes were glued to Alexander's hand, then to the red mark on the man's cheek, to the blood and broken teeth spilling from his lips...

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

It was sudden, shocking, and utterly unexpected.

Moments before, it seemed to everyone that the trio—one man and two women—who refused to buy the necklace were about to face a major setback. However, in an astonishing twist, the man lashed out with a fearless slap that sent the suited man soaring through the air.

Strength was not lacking, but there on Coconut Wind Island, those folks were no easy targets.

"You think you can cause trouble here, kid?!" The stall owner, taken aback at first, quickly turned menacing. He jabbed a finger at Alexander's nose and roared, "Come on, guys, do not just stand there. Let's take him down! Cut this guy to pieces, and keep the girls—we'll bring them to the boss!" With a rustling surge, more than 20 men in suits lunged from all sides, brandishing rubber clubs, daggers, and sabers at Alexander's head,

intent on taking him down right there and then.

Then there were Amber and Coral.

In the nearby crowd, a handful of men in suits crept closer to the two women without drawing attention. Once they were within striking distance, they pounced, ready to snatch them away.

11An undisciplined mob, biting off more than they can chew." Such a small skirmish was hardly a challenge for Alexander. With a swift step, he moved to protect Amber and Coral, placing them behind him. His hands traced an arc in the air and, with a subtle tremor, sent forth into the void.

The Remote Strike.

The chaos was intense, with the attackers scattered, some still hidden among the bystanders. However, Alexander's mystical Remote Strike, precise as a homing missile, left Amber and Coral unscathed, with the surrounding crowd feeling nothing more than a whispering wind.

The men in suits were sent flying by an unseen force, their screams piercing the air as they crashed to the ground. Blood spilled from their mouths as they failed to rise.

"This... This can't be..." The middle-aged stall owner was petrified, his lips quivering uncontrollably as he stuttered, "Y—You... You..."

It was fear in its purest form. He was genuinely terrified, his words I jumbled in his fright.

He did not want to admit it, but his body betrayed him. He was shaking from head to toe, his legs twitching wildly, and a warm wetness spread in his pants. He had been so scared that he had wet himself.

"Don't be scared, you're not going to die. Killing you would just make my hands dirty." Alexander stepped forward, his gaze icy as he stared down the stall owner. "You tried to rip me off, your eyes darting around. When I refused to buy the necklace, you quickly looked away, signaling our tour guide. Are you two working together?" A buzz filled the stall owner's head. He glanced instinctively at Carson among the crowd, his words faltering, "No, no, that's not—I..." In a flash, Alexander's face was impassive, and he disappeared from where he stood, reappearing in an instant before Carson, grabbing his collar and hurling him to the ground with a thunderous crash.

Carson was thrown like a ragdoll, tumbling and bouncing on the ground, ending up right at the stall owner's feet.

"Ready to confess?" Alexander was back in his original spot in a blink, his voice detached.

"Carson, you've been tailing us since we got off the bus. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?

Teaming up with this vendor, trying to strong-arm us into a sale— where do you get the nerve? Out with it!" Carson was too terrified to speak.

Ever since he landed a gig at the Spring Sunshine Travel Agency, he had been in cahoots with local merchants, fleecing tourists left and right. With the shadowy backing of Coconut Wind Island's big shots, life had been a breeze—trouble was a stranger to him.

However, what happened this day was a shocker. That Kane guy was like something out of a comic book, a one-man army. More than 30 goons swarmed him, and not a single one could lay a finger on him.

With just a flick of his wrist, they were airborne! What kind of superhuman was that? Did people like that even exist? He was like a character straight out of a fantasy ! "Kane, you...don't get too cocky!" Carson, flat on the ground, struggled mightily before he finally managed to push himself up. Shaking, he pointed at Alexander and the two women, his teeth rattling like a pair of dice in a cup. "You might be tough, but you can't keep those two ladies safe forever. We've got more than enough muscle on this island! "Our boss from Spring Sunshine, Wasyl Jurgensen, is here on the island as we speak! He's a heavy hitter from Wyverna Ol' Mare's underworld, used to roll with Mister Hardy, and now he's part of the infamous New Chesire Group!" 4/6

What?! Behind Alexander, Amber shot a look at Coral, who was sporting a dazed expression, and her mind raced. Then it clicked.

She understood.

The whole Coconut Wind Island trip, including the plane tickets, was Coral's doing. With money to burn, she had naturally reached out to the biggest travel agency in Ol' Mare city— Spring Sunshine. Who would have guessed that their boss, Wasyl, had ties to the notorious Mister Hardy? Wasyl? The name did not ring any bells... However, it did not matter.

Not one bit.

"You're telling me he's on the island? Good." Alexander's face was a mask of ice as he stared down Carson, who was smirking like he owned the place. His voice was a blade of frost. "Get Wasyl here in ten minutes, or I swear, I'll dirty my hands and end you myself.

"Whether he's pulling the strings or you're just out of control, you're going to answer to the tourists today.

"The clock's ticking. Ten minutes." A countdown? Carson's heart skipped a beat under Alexander's icy glare. No more

delays—he whipped out his phone and punched in Wasyl's number.

"Mister Jurgensen, Carson here! We've got trouble. Some guy named Kane, a tourist from Ol' Mare, stirred up a storm in our group, even hijacked our bus..." He spun the tale with extra drama, then pleaded, "Mister Jurgensen, you've got to come fast. I'm down at the commercial strip by the volcano crater's base.

"You've got... No, scratch that, nine minutes! If you're late, he'll kill me, and he doesn't give a damn about you!" Oh? Wasyl's voice rumbled through the phone, a wild edge to his tone, "Someone's messing with my crew? He can wait."