Luke stopped Paul after he took a couple of steps toward the training gym. He said, âThe Master does not allow unofficial disciples to enter the training gym, Paul. No one can break that rule.â
The Quinn School of Martial Arts only taught martial arts techniques to its official disciples and never to unofficial disciples.
All official disciples were required to be in the training gym when they practiced their techniques. The reason Paul had tried so many times to go there was so he could get a glimpse of the techniques exclusive to official disciples of the sect.
When stopped by Luke, he laughed and lightly smacked his head. âOh, was that it? As soon as I get busy I forget all the rules. Okay, then Iâll sit outside and have a cup of coffee for a while.â
Lucas nodded. The two stood outside and chatted for two hours before Paul finally left with a big smile.
Paul didnât go home. Instead, he went to the Hoffmansâ house.
Jordan was working out in the gym. Fierce, menacing-looking veins were popping up on his arms as he lifted the dumbbells, forming a fearsome spectacle.
Paul was also shocked when he walked in, he could see his stocky, muscular physique.
To be honest, it was hard to know if he could really beat Jordan in a one-on-one fight. After all, the martial arts techniques he had learned at the Quinn School of Martial Arts were nothing more than some fancy looking moves that were all show and no substance.
However, that didnât stop him from expanding the Quinlan Sect.
A smiling Paul said, âSorry for coming unannounced so abruptly, Mr. Hoffman!â.
Jordan was rude, so what he hated most was such nonsense talk from Paul. He put down the dumbbells, patted his arms and roared in a voice so loud it could deafen, âWhat brings you here, Mr. Quinlan?â
Paul walked over, sat down and replied, âIâm here to discuss a business opportunity with you, Mr. Hoffman.â
The Hoffmans and the Quinlan Sect were rivals, both had different grounds, so what kind of business opportunity could they share?
Jordanâs eyes narrowed. He grabbed a bottle of mineral water and poured it over his head. Only after rinsing off the cold sweat did he feel much more comfortable. âWhat business opportunity can we share?â he asked.
Paul flashed him a smile. âThat sports car club of yours is suffering from mismanagement, isnât it? The Quinlan Sect intends to buy it. What do you say?â
Jordanâs men, who were standing behind him, were furious to hear that. They immediately stepped forward and shouted, âWhat the hell do you mean heâs suffering from mismanagement? You have no idea how much money our sports car club makes.â
Paul straightened his suit. He continued with a grin, âWhen did subordinates start interrupting when we talk, Mr. Hoffman?â
Jordanâs subordinate in question grew even angrier. âYouâ¦â
However, Jordan held out his arm to stop him. âAll right, thatâs enough. Letâs hear what Mr. Quilan has to say first.â
To outsiders, calling it a sports car club might sound nice enough, but it was actually his private race track. All arcades charged an entrance fee, so how could he not make money?
Especially after Yanciâs appearance attracted more people to the sports car club, making it even more crowded.
This was because Logan had races scheduled for the entire next month, so Nora would have to race in his place. So, even if car racing fans didnât place bets, they would buy tickets to watch the races.
That had to be the part that had captured Paulâs interest, hadnât it?
Thatâs why he had developed thoughts of taking a chance on the sports car club!
Paul readjusted his sleeves and said with a smile, âLinson Leigh can be said to be someone who is under my care, but he currently lies paralyzed in the hospital, unable to stand up for the rest of his life. Of course, Iâm not here to hold anyone responsible for that. Itâs just that I personally really like racing too, so Iâd like to buy the club.â
Jordanâs jaw tensed. âHow much are you offering?â
Paul replied unhurriedly, â$800,000.â
Jordan, â¿?â
He was furious. âMr. Quinlan, youâve got to be kidding, right? Can you even buy that land with $800,000?â
Every inch of land in New York cost an arm and a leg. Even if it was a suburban area, it was a huge piece of land. There was no way $800,000 was enough to buy it.
Paul smiled, âDidnât you buy that land for $800,000 twenty years ago?â
Jordan, â!â
Property prices had multiplied dozens of times by now!
His expression darkened. âIf youâre just here to joke, then you can leave now, Mr. Quinlan!â
Paul stood up and said, âWell, Iâll leave you to what I said. Think it over, Mr. Hoffman.â
Jordan scoffed, âNo need to. If youâre short of money, I can sponsor you with something Mr. Quinlan. Why bother coming begging? How inappropriate.â
Paul didnât get angry, âDo you know where I was before I came here?â
Jordan, â?â
Paul flashed him a smile but said nothing. Instead, he turned and left.
Mrs. Hoffman entered the room after he left. She asked with a frown, âWhat did he mean by that?â
Jordan furrowed his eyebrows. He motioned to his subordinate and indicated, âAsk around and find out where he was before he came here.â
âYes, sir.â
Five minutes later, his subordinate got the answer. He said, âHe was at the Quinn School of Martial Arts.â
Jordan was astonished.
The man explained, âHe supposedly chatted for over two hours with Lucas, who oversees all miscellaneous matters at the Quinn School of Martial Arts. He came straight to us after he left the cult. Could it be the Quinn School of Martial Arts that had told him to take the car racing club away from us?â
Jordan frowned. âThe Quinn School of Martial Arts is a very large sect with many disciples. Not only do they have to support the expenses of such a large sect, but they are also located in the center of New York City. Their expenses are indeed significant. It is said that Paul has been accumulating wealth all these years out thanks to instructions from the Quinn School of Martial Arts.â
Mrs. Hoffman was immediately angry. âThey are too abusive! It was because of the Quinn School of Martial Arts that we allowed Paul to get ahead of us all this time, but now theyâve come to our door to slap us around! How can you tolerate that, Jordan?â
Jordan took his hand and lightly patted the back of it. He let out a sigh and replied, âThe Quinn School of Martial Arts and the Irvin School of Martial Arts are the two cults we canât afford to mess with. I have wanted to seek refuge in the Irvin Martial Arts School all these years so that I could stand up to Paul, but that person is their current leader. That person has never been short of money, so he is not interested in the olive branch we are offering him.â
Mrs. Hoffman became even more enraged. âBut how can we let it get that far? If you back out this time, sooner or later heâll buy up all the Hoffmansâ property on the cheap.â
Jordan walked anxiously. The muscles of his big, sturdy body twitched under his skin as he did so. His fingers tightened and loosened periodically, but before long he hung his head despondently. âBut what can we do? We have no more than two hundred men in our charge, but how many disciples do you think the Quinn School of Martial Arts has in the pugilistic world?â
Mrs. Hoffman was silent.
Everyone in the pugilistic world knew how important cults were.
The Quinn School of Martial Arts had developed very well over the years, so the number of official and unofficial disciples they had could probably add up to almost 10,000!
How were the Hoffmans going to fight the Quinn School of Martial Arts?
Jordanâs subordinates behind him ducked their heads in dejection. They had followed their boss from his hometown to New York, and only managed to build what they currently had after much hardship. In the end, however, was a simple word from another person enough to erase it all?
Mrs. Hoffman turned away despondently. She pulled out her cell phone and said, âIâm going to call Miss Smith.â
Jordan was taken aback. âWhat are you calling her for?â
Mrs. Hoffmanâs eyes were red. She replied, âIâm going to tell her to stay out of the races! Why do we have to make it easy for Paul?â
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