Molly knew exactly what Flynn was thinking-this jerk’s mind was the easiest to read.
He was probably itching with frustration by now.
The thought made Molly smirk mischievously as she pulled out her phone, leaving the screen on Scarlet’s contact number.
Flynn caught a glimpse of her phone from the corner of his eye. The image of a pair of scissors flashed through his mind, and he suddenly felt a chill below.
“What are you talking about? Blonde beauties? Edwin Gallagher, what nonsense are you saying?” Flynn feigned ignorance, his voice deliberately loud.
Edwin, confused, paused for a moment before replying, “Huh? Didn’t Brandon just call about it? He mentioned the Achela sisters-you picked them the first day they came to Club Apex.”
At those words, Flynn silently cursed Brandon and Edwin. These two idiots!
Molly immediately rolled her eyes, her face full of disgust. She sneered at the depravity of these men and, with a cold smile, prepared to call Scarlet.
Flynn’s expression darkened. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to strangle Edwin Gallagher.
On the other end of the line, Edwin kept explaining.
“Mr. Clark, Brandon has been keeping those two blondes just for you. He didn’t even let them start working. He said they’re still pure, just waiting for you to teach them…”
“Edwin Gallagher! Shut the hell up! When did I ever pick them? I’ve never even met them!”
“Club Apex? Do you think a righteous, upright, honest gentleman like me would ever go to a place like that?”
“I’ve never been there! That bastard must’ve been drunk and mistaken. Now get lost!”
Flynn yelled righteously, tearing into Edwin Gallagher before slamming the call. His anger left him gritting his teeth.
Molly stuck out her tongue in disgust.
If Flynn was a “righteous gentleman,” then the ants on the ground were saints.
She couldn’t fathom where Flynn got the audacity to call himself upright and honest.
Well, at least when he ogled women, he did so openly-he was “honest” about that.
“Orion Kennedy is fifty, probably going through menopause. His memory must be muddled. That’s not good-I’ll have to prescribe him some medication. After all, he’s Ms. Sharp’s business partner…” Flynn muttered nonsense with a straight face.
“Sisters? Seems like Mr. Clark has some interesting hobbies,” Molly sneered, scoffing at Flynn’s pathetic lies as she put away her phone.
Flynn’s face darkened. He had hoped she would let the matter drop, but Molly refused to let it go, her face full of mockery.
He cleared his throat and spread his hands. “Fine, I admit I’ve been to Club Apex. But you heard Edwin-they’re still pure. That means our relationship is completely innocent. All I did was press a little, nothing more.”
“Press a little?” Molly raised an eyebrow, her smile mischievous. “Where exactly did you press? And with what? A place like that must offer all kinds of ‘services.'”
“Is trust between people really this fragile?” Flynn sighed, exasperated.
It seemed there was no way to clear his name now.
“Others, maybe. You? Forget it.” Molly rolled her eyes and let out a dismissive hum.
“Looks like you don’t want me to teach you anymore,” Flynn said, his smile turning cold. “Fine. I’ll call Rocco Spencer and have him send someone to pick you up. You’re old enough to get married anyway.”
“Go back and get married?” Molly froze, her face turning pale.
She opened her mouth, ready to retort, but ultimately swallowed her words.
She needed to continue improving her skills and uncover information about the forces behind the King of Poison.
Returning to East Sea was out of the question. If she went back, her uncle would undoubtedly set her up with some privileged son of a high-ranking official.
“I believe you,” Molly mumbled, her voice as soft as a mosquito.
Flynn’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Believe me about what?”
“I believe you’re a righteous gentleman. I believe you only pressed a little. I believe everything,” Molly replied through gritted teeth, silently cursing Flynn ten times over in her mind.
Flynn stifled a laugh. “So, will you dare defy me again?”
“You…” Molly’s almond-shaped eyes widened in anger, but she bit her lip and swallowed her fury, bowing to Flynn’s oppressive smugness.
“No, I won’t…”
“Let’s go. Back to Plenilune Mountain,” Flynn said coldly, turning away.
But as he walked, his lips curled into a wide grin, and he almost laughed out loud.
The feeling of having the upper hand was exhilarating.
The scene just now had a certain “training the maid” vibe to it.
Trailing behind, Molly glared daggers at Flynn’s back, her teeth grinding in frustration.
The two got into Flynn’s car and headed straight for Plenilune Mountain.
The night was quiet, the moon shining faintly over the serene garden of Thodell Mansion.
“Martial arts and traditional fighting techniques are different,” Flynn began, standing in the garden. “Martial arts are meant to kill, while traditional techniques often include elements of performance.”
“The martial arts we practice are designed for lethal combat, every move intended to take a life.”
“If you’re fighting a strong enemy and stick rigidly to fixed patterns, they’ll easily predict your next move.”
“Your problem is that you rely too much on a single technique-or, to put it another way, a single style.”
Molly frowned slightly. “So, you’re saying that in combat, I need to mix techniques and adapt on the fly?”
Flynn shook his head. “What I’m saying is that life-and-death battles aren’t just about strength. They’re also about strategy.”
“For a true expert, even something as basic as a Tiger Fist can kill-”
“But only if you’ve refined and adapted every move to fit the situation.”
“Confuse your opponent so they can’t predict your next move,” Flynn continued.
Molly tilted her head, still skeptical. “You make a good point. But how can techniques be altered so easily? Isn’t that the same as inventing your own style?”
Flynn waved dismissively. “Take this move, for example. If you bend your knees slightly, stabilize your stance, and extend both hands like claws, you can strike with overwhelming force. Once you grab an opponent’s chest, you could tear off a chunk of flesh.”
“But if your opponent knows the move, they’ll block with their elbows and neutralize your attack.”
“Now, what if you feint?” he suggested. “Extend both hands, but change direction with one-aim for their lower body. Catch them off guard.”
“The lower body? Isn’t that a dirty trick?” Molly sneered.
“Any move that saves your life isn’t dirty,” Flynn replied calmly.
Molly’s main issue was her lack of a solid foundation. She clung too rigidly to established techniques.
In her recent fight against Kendal Roy in the southern suburbs, her moves had been predictable, like a rehearsed routine.
Thankfully, Flynn had unlocked her Dragon Spine, giving her an edge in internal strength. Combined with Kendal’s overconfidence, she had narrowly won.
“No wonder you’re always stirring up trouble and coming out unscathed,” Molly teased. “Turns out you’ve got a bag of dirty tricks.”
Flynn shook his head. “I’ve moved past that stage.”
“When martial arts reach a certain level, techniques become irrelevant. In the face of absolute power, all moves are meaningless-they crumble like dust.”
“For now, your focus should be on perfecting your techniques. Then, add your own flair to them.”
“Now, show me your routine from start to finish. I’ll help you refine each move.”
Molly snorted internally. “Absolute power? He’s just a Great Grandmaster. Against high-level fighters, he’d still run with his tail between his legs.”
Despite her thoughts, Molly obediently began her routine.
Her movements were energetic but imprecise. She wasn’t maximizing the power of her techniques.
She stepped forward with her right foot, pressing her left palm downward while forming a fist with her right hand to strike downward. Her eyes focused ahead.
“Wrong again!” Flynn snapped. “Why is your butt sticking out so much? Straighten your back!”
Frustrated, he moved closer to correct her posture but froze for a moment, his gaze lingering on Molly’s curvy figure.
Clearing his throat, he awkwardly muttered, “Well… this move isn’t bad.”
“I thought your posture was off, but it turns out you’re just… naturally built that way…”