Rising from the Ashes (Andrew) novel Chapter 938

"Name," Andrew said flatly.

Reuben dared not show any attitude and quickly answered, "Reuben Davis. I'm from Gabo Creek. Started training at seven, own five properties in Blumedale, have 400 million in liquid assets, and one illegitimate son—"

Andrew waved his hand, cutting him off. "I asked for your name, not your entire autobiography."

Reuben bowed his head, nodding repeatedly. "Got it, got it! My bad, sir!"

Andrew asked, "Do you want me to let you go?"

Reuben looked at him eagerly. "Of course I do! Who wouldn't? But I get it—there's no such thing as a free lunch. I ended up in your hands, so obviously, there's a price I've got to pay."

Andrew gave a knowing smile. "Now that's the mindset of a real veteran. You're sharp, Reuben. Oh, and stop calling me 'sir'.' I'm not that old."

Reuben laughed awkwardly. "Among martial artists, we don't judge by age. We go by power. If you've surpassed me, then calling you sir is only right."

Andrew did not argue with him. Instead, he said, "I'll let you walk free—but under one condition. You'll need to train my people for a while. Especially these two. Get them to the peak of the senior grandmaster stage, and you're free to go."

Reuben looked troubled as he pointed at Natasha and Dylan. "Sir, you don't mean those two, right?"

Andrew nodded. "That's exactly who I mean."

Reuben muttered, "The widow's not a problem. But that big guy next to her… he's gonna be a lot more work."

Andrew said coolly, "If it were easy, I wouldn't be bothering you with it."

Reuben hesitated, then asked carefully, "And if I don't agree… what would you do with me?"

Andrew answered slowly, "The Golding family and I… let's just say we're not on good terms anymore. That fat bastard, Elon, was tricked into eating shit—by me, of course. So, letting you go scot-free? That's not happening. If you say no, I'll have to kill you."