While Roberto and his crew were plotting their scheme, Darnell was casually chatting with Areli.
For some reason, despite finding Darnell’s exaggerated and shameless demeanor infuriating, Areli didn’t feel any real aversion towards him. Perhaps it was because she had encountered too many hypocritical people, and Darnell’s authenticity brought her a sense of peace, gradually easing her tense nerves.
“Miss Fanshaw, your car has been vandalized.”
Just as Darnell handed Areli another cocktail, a handsome waiter hurried over with a worried expression. “Some drunk guests smashed a bottle on your car. One of the windows is broken. The security guard asked you to come out and take a look.”
Areli frowned. “What?”
She was about to get up when she noticed Darnell scanning the room for beautiful women. “Darnell, you go and check it out.”
Darnell reluctantly withdrew his gaze. “Tsk, Miss Fanshaw, do I really have to handle such trivial matters? Just call the insurance company.”
Areli’s face turned stern. “Go quickly.”
Darnell shook his head helplessly, grabbed the car keys, and walked out. On his way, he scooped up a handful of peanuts and strolled outside.
Sure enough, he saw the Porsche had been damaged, with one window shattered. Darnell cursed under his breath at the rough treatment of the new car.
A security guard was standing nearby and immediately called out when he saw Darnell approaching. “It was done by someone with dyed yellow hair.”
Darnell scanned around. “Where is he?”
The security guard pointed ahead. “There were six of them, all drunk, and they ran off. We couldn’t catch them.”
Darnell glanced at the security guard’s name tag, Edwin Cann. He then took out his phone to call the police and the insurance company, quickly resolving the issue.
After Darnell hung up, Edwin offered him a cigarette, apologizing sincerely, “I’m really sorry, sir.”
“If you want, I’ll buy you a drink to make up for my mistake.”
“Even though it’s not entirely my fault, I am responsible for this area. I’m really sorry.”
Darnell eyed the cigarette briefly. “Luxe Lofts” was priced at $1, 500 per carton.
How could a security guard afford this?
“This is some good stuff. Where did you get it?”
Darnell took a sniff. It was genuine. Edwin hesitated before putting the cigarette box back with a forced smile. “I bought it.”
His eyes flickered.
Shit!
Sensing something off about Edwin, Darnell detected an unusual scent on the cigarette.
It was a setup!
He immediately kicked Edwin aside before darting back into the bar.
Darnell rushed back to the bar counter but found no trace of Areli, only her lingering scent and the warmth left on her chair.
His gaze fell on her glass. He dipped his finger into the residue and sniffed it.
Damn it!
He identified traces of Fantasy Potion in the residue. Both he and Areli had been targeted.
He sniffed the cigarette again. It had the same scent.
The blaring music was still on. Scanning the crowded room, he saw no sign of Areli and questioned the bartender who hadn’t noticed anything either.
Noticing Areli gone made Darnell’s expression serious, but he was not panicked. He pulled out his phone and activated a tracking system.
A red dot appeared on the screen.
After Areli took off her watch earlier while drinking, Darnell placed a tracker on it.
Checking its location briefly, he dashed out, kicking Edwin again as he passed him.
Tonight’s events implicated Edwin. Darnell would deal with him later.
Darnell jumped into the Porsche and hit the pedal to the metal, speeding off with a whoosh.
Outside the bar was bustling. Cars were coming and going slowly due to narrow roads, allowing only two-way traffic.
However, Darnell didn’t slow down. He expertly maneuvered through traffic without any collisions or scratches, drawing cheers from some young men and screams from several women.
What incredible driving skills!
Ignoring both praise and curses from bystanders, Darnell focused solely on Areli’s location on the screen as he sped out of the bar’s entrance.
Within a minute, he locked onto a black Mercedes ahead, the target vehicle, and noted an upcoming sharp turn indicated by road signs.
Unfazed by this obstacle, he controlled his car like a blazing fireball heading straight for the bend.
This reckless move shocked many drivers nearby.
A Maserati driver rolled down her window, revealing an attractive young face. She cursed loudly, “Damn! Are you trying to kill yourself?”
Unaware that his actions were making onlookers sweat nervously for him, Darnell only cared about Areli’s safety.
As he approached the turn, his hands performed magic-like maneuvers. A sharp turn followed by another swift correction brought him safely around without losing speed. A red blur streaking past astonished drivers, including the one in Maseratis, who exclaimed excitedly, “Wow! That was amazing!”
“I must find this guy as my mentor to defeat those arrogant jerks.”
She tried memorizing the Porsche’s license plate but only caught a few digits before losing sight of the speeding car.
Up ahead, the black Mercedes driver realized he was being chased after, increasing the speed rapidly, but despite the similar function between cars, it didn’t take long for Darnell to overtake the Mercedes driver.
Slowing down slightly and closing the distance until just one car length apart, Darnell braked hard, forcing his car sideways and blocking the path, causing the Mercedes driver to veer right.
With a loud crash, the Mercedes hit the railing, then skidded into the roadside flowerbed, finally stopping amidst the flying debris.
Trailing vehicles braked hard, leaving long skid marks while Darnell shifted gears, stepping out and heading towards the wrecked Mercedes.
He exuded a murderous aura.
The Mercedes’s door opened, revealing a disheveled youth from the driver’s seat while the rear seat showed the unconscious Areli. Darnell quickly approached and lifted her out of the car. Her body was burning hot. “Miss Fanshaw, are you okay?”
“You bastard!”
As Darnell carried Areli out, a young man emerged from the driver’s seat, cursing furiously.
In his twenties, with earrings and a weird hairstyle, he dressed well but looked sleazy, with blood trickling down his forehead. He clutched his wound, yelling at Darnell, “Do you have a death wish?”
“You crashed my car and stole my woman. Do you know who I am?”
Meanwhile, several luxury cars arrived, blocking the area around the Mercedes. A group of people got out of their cars, clearly the Mercedes driver’s friends. They converged towards the Mercedes driver, asking, “Nick, what happened?”
“This guy crashed my car and stole my girl.”
Enraged, they rolled up their sleeves as they approached Darnell.
“How dare you steal Nick’s girl?”
“Don’t you know who Nick is?”
“Kneel down and beg for forgiveness, or we’ll break your legs.”
After putting Arelie in the car, he closed the car door carefully. Darnell shed his usual playful demeanor, cracking his neck before replying coldly, “Picking up girls is fine, but don’t stoop that low to drug them.”
“Tonight, I’ll teach you a lesson, so no more innocent girls get hurt.”
Nick grabbed an iron rod when he charged at Darnell, shouting, “Messing with me? Beat him, folks!”
They rushed forward, yelling.
“Scum.”
With a cold smile, Darnell dashed forward and delivered a powerful kick, sending Nick flying along with the rod several meters away.
Then he swiftly dealt three low sweeping kicks, knocking down three more assailants before they even touched him. They writhed in pain, unable to stand up.
Darnell’s movements were quick and clean.
“I don’t care who you are.”
Stepping forward, Darnell stomped on Nick’s chest, an icy menace radiating from his entire being. “Next time you drug someone, I’ll cripple you.”
Moaning in agony, Nick protested through his gritted teeth, “I didn’t drug anyone, I saw her acting wild back in the bar, so I took her away.”
Suspicion flickered across Darnell’s eyes. He was about to question further when Areli, half-naked, emerged through the car window, irresistibly attractive to any man.
After kicking Nick aside, he returned to the car, securing Areli back inside and helping her fasten the seat belt, jumped into the car, and sped off.
A more pressing matter awaited him. He had to clear the poison in Areli’s body as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, Nick, struggling to his feet, yelled after the departing Porsche, “Bastard, you’re dead meat! The Apex won’t spare you.”
Then he dialed a number, furiously shouting,
“Brian, how dare you fool me? You’re screwed!”