Chapter 51 One Punch to the Grave
“You want to play the hero, boy?”
Stanley looked Ryan over with contempt.
“A guest of the Mercers, are you? Bad luck. You can die with them.”
“George was right,” Ryan said. “You really are insane.”
Stanley’s face twisted.
“Then die.”
He snapped his wrist. The knife flew toward Ryan’s heart.
Ryan shifted half a step and raised his right hand. The blade settled into his grip as though someone had handed it to him.
He threw it back.
Stanley jerked aside. The knife skimmed his cheek, leaving a bloody line across his face.
He touched the wound, stared at his red fingertips, then lunged.
His fist drove straight into Ryan’s chest.
Ryan didn’t move.
Triumph flashed across Stanley’s face. Prison had offered little chance to practice with weapons. His real strength was in his hands and feet, and that punch could shatter a stack of bricks.
The boy’s ribs should have broken.
Nothing happened.
At almost the same instant, Ryan struck him in the chest.
The crack was unmistakable.
Stanley’s ribs gave way. Blood surged from his mouth. He tried to look down at himself, then his legs buckled.
Terror replaced the fury in his eyes. He opened his mouth, but only a wet rattle emerged.
His body jerked once.
Then he went still.
The Mercers stared.
George had suspected Ryan was a cultivator. He’d never imagined that someone so young could stand against a man who had spent twenty years training. That was why he hadn’t asked Ryan to fight.
Yet Stanley had died from a single punch.
“Are you hurt?” George asked urgently.
He had seen the blow land squarely on Ryan’s chest.
“I’m fine. He wasn’t strong enough.”
Victor looked from Stanley’s body to Ryan, struggling with the realization of how close they’d come to losing everything.
If Ryan hadn’t been there, the entire family might be dead.
“Mr. Carter, please understand. We asked you here because we were afraid to take Dad out. We had no idea the attack would happen tonight. We weren’t trying to draw you into it.”
The timing was so convenient that he had to explain. If Ryan thought they’d manipulated him, his gratitude could turn into something dangerous.
“I know,” Ryan said. “You don’t need to explain.”
He hadn’t been certain at first. That was why he’d followed Nathan’s evacuation plan instead of intervening immediately.
Being able to help didn’t mean he intended to let people use him.
The family’s reactions, and what he’d heard of George’s history with Stanley, had answered his questions. Only then had he stepped in.
Father and son visibly relaxed.
Ryan glanced at the body.
“Will this cause trouble?”
“We’ll handle it,” George said.
“Properly,” Victor added quickly. “You won’t need to worry. If you ever face anything similar, call me.”
Ryan nodded.
Clutching his abdomen, Nathan struggled upright.
“You saved my life. Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Go back inside. I’ll take care of things here.”
They returned to the house. Still badly shaken, the two women retired while George and Victor sat with Ryan over tea.
Half an hour later, Nathan reported that several guards had been hurt, two seriously. None had died.
Given the attacker, they had been fortunate.
When Ryan rose to leave, George and Victor accompanied him to the door.
“You saved me at the clinic,” George said. “Tonight you saved my family. Whatever you need, please ask. Let us do something for you.”