?<strong>Chapter 602:</strong>


    “My leg! Ahhh!”


    His face went pale as he doubled over, groaning. Through his blurred vision, he saw Ken standing in front of Allison, tall and unyielding.


    Dressed in ck, Ken exuded a quiet but undeniable menace. “Still making excuses for losing your temper? You really are stupid.” Ken’s voice was cold, his eyes sharp enough to cut. “Apologize to Allison,” he ordered, his tone low and final, “or you won’t like what happens next.”


    Santino gaped, his pain momentarily forgotten as indignation red. Fear flickered in his eyes, but his anger quickly overpowered it. He wasn’t used to being the one on his knees, apologizing.


    “Apologize?” he sneered, his voice trembling with rage. “You think you can make me? You’re nothing! Let’s settle this, just you and me.”


    Ken met his challenge with a look of disdain, calmly loosening his tie. “Fine.”


    He began wrapping the tie around his right hand, inch by inch, the deliberate motion heightening the tension in the crowd.


    “I’ll show you how a real fight ends,” he said quietly.


    Without another word, Ken moved in. He didn’t have the patience to hold back. His first blownded with precision, snapping Santino’s head back.


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    And then came another, and another — each strike brutally efficient.


    The crowd watched, captivated as Santino, now a dazed, whimpering mess, was pummeled into submission.


    “About time someone shut him up! He’s been throwing his weight around for too long!”


    “Look at him now — beaten senseless! He was so cocky just a moment ago.”


    “Serves that bastard right!”


    Santino’s chivalrous act fooled nobody. The crowd knew that he was nothing but a bully. He’d imed he was standing up for Mny, but his only target was Allison, despite Ken and Ferdinand both being there.


    Santino’s face, swollen and bruised, twisted in pain. He managed to catch his breath just long enough to snarl, “You’ll pay for this! My uncle’sing. He’ll make you all regret this!” But his threat only deepened Ken’s cold fury.


    “Looks like you still haven’t learned to shut up,” Ken said, his gaze cold, filled with sharp murderous intent. He stepped forward, and after closing the distance, raised his foot and ground it down onto Santino’s hand.


    A sickening crack echoed through the air as bones snapped beneath Ken’s heel. Santino screamed, his face draining of color, writhing in agony.


    The crowd fell silent, watching in stunned awe as Ken slowly withdrew his foot, his expression calm and unperturbed.


    Santino let out a sharp, agonized cry, the pain so intense that he almost wished he could copse to the ground to relieve it.


    “You’ll regret this! Just wait, I’ll make sure you pay…” he muttered, pointing a shaking finger toward Ken’s face.


    But his bravado withered halfway through, frozen by the murderous glint in Ken’s eyes. Santino felt his stomach sink, suddenly aware that any more threats might just get him killed. Ken’s whole stance emanated a cold, dangerous edge, as sharp as a de.


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