His Lordship Alexander Kane

Chapter 0256

‘As good as dead’?

The moment Alexander’s challenge hit the air, Leandro laughed maniacally, wild and unrestrained.

There he stood, the proud second son of the Jackman dynasty, not even thirty and already ranked

eighty-third among the Chart of Fighters.

Even the seasoned fighters of the northern realms felt small in his shadow. Since his youth, he had

been the

golden boy, one of the mightiest in his powerful clan.

The Jackman family was a northern powerhouse thanks to bruisers like him and, of course, his own

iron-fisted

ways.

“It’s been ages since anyone’s had the guts to talk big in front of me!”

Leandro’s laughter faded, and he eyed Alexander with a sneer. “So, I hear you’re the one who took

down the Ellis family and brought the Hart dynasty to its knees?

“Let me clue you in: Next to my Jackman family, those families are small fry, not even worth

mentioning!

“Think you can mess with the Ellis and Harts and then step to the Jackman family? You’re dreaming!

And it’s

not just you-even the mighty New Chesire Group is just a bug waiting to be squashed under the

Jackman

boot!”

Alexander just shook his head, slow and deliberate.

with the chit-chat. There was no point in wasting more words

had

chance and blew

of the picture, Ol’ Mare, Woolpackton, Tormora-all those underground

mine for

the taking!”

Leandro’s smirk grew wider, his hands a

strike. “You first. Then tomorrow, Amber… But before she dies, I’ll have to indulge in Ol’ Mare’s

beauty.

to savor that,” he cackled with

that, he lunged

Chart of Fighters, a force more

an eye, as he launched his

a sharp, metallic screech as it sliced through

Quicker than a flash.

that split second, Leandro’s right hand might as well have

metallic shine. With a speed that defied sight, he struck

with a claw-like blow.

eighty-third? Nothing

right thumb leisurely rising, lightly pressing against the center

Leandro’s

1/3

move was a paradox-slow to the eye, yet swift beyond measure. Even

clearly but could not grasp its

counterattack was a masterstroke, a delayed action that preempted the initial strike,

shattering the whole.

like a pre-set

it. The clash was like metal on

sharp hiss, and blood flew in

metal, was

blood

a gruesome spectacle that covered

“Bro. Brother!”

menacing, then stared with eyes wide, his face a mask

was not just Matthew. The Jackman family’s three bodyguards, and even Asher behind

pounded as if they