Compared to the people Zakari brought, Big Al and Little Al stood out with their imposing physiques.
The two men in front instinctively stepped back, trying to distance themselves from the two formidable figures.
Zakari’s pupils contracted slightly at the sight of Big Al and Little Al.
He had clawed his way up through the underworld and was always sensitive to the presence of skilled fighters.
He knew these two were not just intimidating in size but also possessed considerable skills.
A small antique shop having such high-level bodyguards was quite unusual.
Zakari’s gaze then fell on Arlene and her sister. These two women had an extraordinary aura, suggesting they were not from ordinary backgrounds.
Zakari hesitated. Although his men could trash the shop, if it had powerful backing, things could get messy.
As the standoff continued, Leo walked into the antique shop.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” Leo asked with interest.
“Kid, this has nothing to do with you. Get out,” one of Zakari’s men shouted.
Leo walked over to Arlene, shaking his finger. “The beautiful owner of this antique shop is my friend. How can you say it has nothing to do with me?”
Leo’s eyes gleamed with an idea. Although he could easily deal with these thugs, they might come back if he wasn’t around.
He needed a permanent solution.
Leo took out his phone and made a call. “Kristian? There’s a situation at Spirit Moon Antiques. Could you help out?”
Zakari sneered. “Calling for backup? Interesting. I want to see who dares to stand up to me!”
Leo hung up and looked at Zakari calmly. “Wait five minutes, okay?”
“Who do you think you are, making Zakari wait?” one of Zakari’s men stepped forward arrogantly.
The thug swung a steel pipe at a nearby shelf, smashing a porcelain vase.
Big Al and Little Al’s faces showed anger, ready to teach him a lesson, but Christine shook her head.
Fighting in the shop could cause more damage. They decided to wait and see who Leo had called.
Leo picked up a piece of the broken vase and said, “Glazed jade vase, market price $6, 000.”
The thug’s hand trembled slightly.
He thought the vase was just a decoration and wouldn’t be worth much. He didn’t expect it to be worth $6, 000, more than he could earn in a year under Zakari.
Seeing he was surrounded by his own people, the thug regained his confidence and shouted, “It’s just a broken vase! Stop trying to scare me!”
He swung the steel pipe again, smashing another antique.
Leo didn’t even bend down this time. “Eight Trigrams Blessing Bowl, market price $20, 000.”
The thug raised his steel pipe again but was suddenly hit on the back of the head.
He looked at Zakari fearfully. “Zakari, I…”
“Get lost! Who told you to smash antiques? If your hands are itchy, use them on his head!” Zakari had lost his patience. “Everyone, attack!”
With Zakari’s order, the thugs eagerly charged at Leo with their steel pipes.
Despite their bravado, they avoided Big Al and Little Al, targeting what they thought was an easier mark-Leo.
Some of the more lecherous thugs even tried to get close to Christine and Arlene.
Just as chaos was about to erupt, two clear coughs echoed through the shop.
Everyone stopped and turned towards the door where the sound came from.
A middle-aged man in a traditional suit stood at the entrance. He had a round face and a slightly plump body but sharp eyes.
The man walked in and scanned the room before his gaze settled on Leo. “Who is Leo?”
“I am,” Leo stepped forward.
“Mr. Bloomer, my senior sent me. How can I help?” The man’s tone was polite.
“Is your senior Kristian?”
“Yes,” the man replied.
Just then, one of Zakari’s men rushed forward. “This shop is closed today. Get out!”
He reached out to push the man but found himself unable to move him an inch.
In the next second, the thug dropped his steel pipe and clutched his stomach, squatting down in pain but unable to scream.
The other thugs were confused. What happened to him?
Zakari’s eyelid twitched. He had clearly seen the middle-aged man punch his subordinate in the stomach with lightning speed.
Leo clasped his hands in respect. “May I know your name?”
“My surname is Quentin, Master Quentin,” the man replied.
Hearing “Master Quentin,” Zakari’s face tightened with tension. “Are you from Wing Chun Martial Arts Studio…”
“Yes, Wing Chun Martial Arts Studio, Master Quentin!” Master Quentin stared at Zakari.
Zakari’s heart sank. It really was Master Quentin, the second-in-command of Wing Chun Martial Arts Studio.
In this antique market area, Zakari could usually act with impunity but not against two forces: the police and Wing Chun Martial Arts Studio.
Realizing Master Quentin’s identity made Zakari reconsider. Collecting protection money could wait; provoking Wing Chun Martial Arts Studio was not worth it.
Zakari forced a smile and bowed. “Master Quentin, I’ve long admired your reputation. This is a misunderstanding. We have other matters to attend to. We’ll take our leave.”
Zakari turned to leave with his men when Leo suddenly called out, “Wait!”