Chapter 410

 410:
While Gorman was lost in his contemplation of the possible fallout, his men surged forward, a united front intent on subduing Collin. Yet, Collin was a tempest. His legs moved like pistons, delivering sharp, sweeping kicks that sent Gorman’s men tumbling like dominos.
Their cries filled the air, a continuous echo of torment rippling across the field.
In the blink of an eye, Collin had neutralized a significant number of Gorman’s men, using nothing but the raw power of his limbs. Throughout this whirlwind of activity, Collin’s expression remained eerily serene, his breath as calm as if he were meditating.
Astonishment painted Gorman’s features, his eyes widening in disbelief.
How could this be?
How was Collin demonstrating such deadly proficiency?
Was this not the same man dismissed as the incompetent, overlooked eldest son of the Riley family?
From what depths had he dredged up such fearsome prowess?
In truth, Collin had spent years faking a disability to navigate a minefield of dangers silently, all while keeping his senses sharp and his body ready.
Collin had rigorously honed his skills in private, diligently training every single day to ensure he could defend not only himself but also those he cherished from any unforeseen threats.
That evening, he boldly infiltrated Gorman’s lavish estate, accompanied by only a handful of men, a testament to his unwavering confidence in his prowess.
Collin never ventured into battle unprepared; Linsey was still at home. He needed to come back and make it up to her.
His eyes, cold and dismissive, swept over Gorman’s men, who moaned in pain on the floor.
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To Collin, these men were mere trivial chess pieces, barely worthy of his focus.
The handful of Gorman’s men who had yet to engage in combat stood frozen, their bodies quivering as they watched the chaos unfold before them.
Some even began to inch backward, their faces etched with terror—Collin’s presence was that intimidating.
Gorman’s men consisted of top-tier, extensively trained bodyguards, yet Collin dispatched them with startling ease.
More impressively, he seemed entirely unfazed by the fray, as though he could continue battling endlessly.
Just who was this formidable man?
As the seconds ticked by, a palpable sense of fear and hesitation began to permeate Gorman’s men, signaling their growing apprehension about facing this fearsome adversary.
Watching his men grow uneasy, Gorman yelled at them with a furious scowl, “What’s this cowardice? Charge! Do you mean to tell me you can’t subdue a single man?”
The thought of the town’s ridicule haunted him; the mere whisper of his incompetence would turn Grester’s laughter against him. Compelled by his command, his men rallied and surged forward, their resolve hardened.
Collin, his face etched with contempt, stood unyielding.
In one fluid motion, he lifted his leg and sent the advancing men tumbling with a sweeping kick.
Then, twisting with feline agility, he delivered a crushing punch to another attacker, who thudded against the wall in a heap.
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