Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System

Chapter 283: The Martial Art King’s Calculation

The Martial Art King’s Calculation

After sending Felberta Ashbourne back to the hotel to rest, the Black Ghost and White Ghost brothers sat in the room and let out a long sigh of relief. Spending the day with that Julian D’Aurelius guy at the Whitmore family’s place had been quite stressful for them.

The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the distant sounds of traffic drifting in through the window. The evening lights of the city flickered beyond the glass, but neither brother was in the mood to admire the view.

The pressure they had endured throughout the day still lingered in the air.

A monster who could match Steffan was indeed terrifying. Moreover, the way that guy seemed to see through people’s hearts made them unwilling to meet his gaze.

Every time Julian’s golden eyes landed on someone, it felt as though every secret buried deep within their soul was laid bare beneath the sunlight.

Even now, merely recalling those eyes caused an uncomfortable chill to creep up White Ghost’s spine.

For men like them, who had spent years walking through blood and shadows, trusting no one and hiding countless secrets, that feeling was particularly unpleasant.

Neither brother wanted to experience it again.

"Big brother, should we report to Steffan now?" White Ghost, the younger brother, asked in a low voice.

His voice broke the silence hanging over the room.

He was much taller than his elder brother, Black Ghost, so he had to lower his head slightly whenever they spoke face-to-face.

Black Ghost remained silent for a few moments.

His brows were knitted tightly together as he replayed everything that had happened at the Whitmore family residence.

Julian D’Aurelius.

The name alone was enough to give anyone a headache.

The young man had appeared from nowhere and repeatedly ruined Steffan’s plans.

Worse still, nobody could accurately gauge the depths of his strength.

After a brief moment of thought, Black Ghost nodded.

He reached into his pocket, took out his phone, and dialed Steffan’s number.

The call connected quickly.

Respect immediately appeared on Black Ghost’s face.

He proceeded to give a detailed report of everything that had happened throughout the day, carefully omitting nothing.

Meanwhile, far away in Silverhaven City, Steffan was temporarily staying at the Ashbourne family’s residence.

The spacious guest room was brightly lit.

Steffan sat alone on a sofa with a calm expression, but as he listened to Black Ghost’s report, his eyes gradually narrowed.

After suffering a loss during his previous encounter with Julian D’Aurelius, he had decided not to act recklessly again.

Patience was often more important than strength.

As the Martial Art King of Africa, he understood that better than most.

Many people believed his rise to power was due solely to his overwhelming martial strength.

Only Steffan himself knew how much planning and calculation had been involved in reaching his current position.

A reckless fool could never stand at the top.

That was why he had chosen to move carefully.

The Ashbourne family was one of the important pieces on his board.

Once he successfully brought the Ashbourne family under his control, their vast wealth and influence, combined with Blackstone Global Group that was already under his name, would give him enough power to launch a proper counterattack against the D’Aurelius family and everyone standing behind them.

Julian D’Aurelius might be powerful.

But power alone did not determine victory.

Money, influence, resources, connections, and strategic planning were equally important.

Fortunately, Steffan possessed all of those things.

Moreover, he still had many pieces at his disposal.

As he sat quietly in the room, his fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of the sofa.

His eyes gleamed with calculation.

Becoming the Martial Art King of Africa was not without his strategic planning skills.

Every step he took had been carefully arranged.

Every victory had been built upon preparation.

After listening to the full report, Steffan suddenly focused on one particular detail.

"So the thousand-year Frostheart Ginseng will arrive in two days?"

His voice was calm and steady.

Yet beneath that calmness lay cold calculation.

"Yes."

Black Ghost answered respectfully from the other side of the phone.

The room fell silent for several seconds.

Steffan leaned back against the sofa.

His gaze drifted toward the night sky beyond the window.

The thousand-year Frostheart Ginseng.

A precious treasure.

Something capable of significantly increasing a cultivator’s strength.

Such an item was naturally too valuable to ignore.

A faint smile appeared on Steffan’s lips.

An ordinary person might hesitate.

But Steffan had spent years surviving on battlefields where life and death were separated by a single decision.

Rules were often luxuries.

Victory was what truly mattered.

After pondering for a moment, he finally spoke.

"Then it’s simple. You two team up and steal... take it. War is deceitful; just treat China as another battlefield."

His tone remained casual, as though discussing something insignificant.

Yet the order itself carried undeniable weight.

Black Ghost immediately nodded.

"I understand, Steffan."

The call soon ended.

The room once again became quiet.

Black Ghost slowly lowered his phone and looked toward his younger brother.

The light above them cast faint shadows across the floor.

White Ghost had been waiting anxiously the entire time.

The moment he saw the call end, he stepped forward.

"What did Steffan say?"

Black Ghost repeated the instructions without changing a single word.

The moment White Ghost heard that Steffan wanted them to steal the thousand-year Frostheart Ginseng, his expression immediately changed.

His throat moved slightly.

A trace of uneasiness appeared in his eyes.

He scratched the back of his head and lowered his voice instinctively.

"Big brother, isn’t that Julian D’Aurelius’s thing? What if we get caught? We can’t beat him."

The memory of Julian’s terrifying strength remained fresh in his mind.

That young man was simply abnormal.

Every time White Ghost thought about him, he felt an inexplicable pressure.

Especially those golden eyes.

It was as though nothing could remain hidden before them.

Black Ghost frowned.

He immediately raised an eyebrow and looked at his younger brother with visible displeasure.

The atmosphere in the room stiffened.

"Are you scared?"

The question struck directly at White Ghost’s pride.

White Ghost instantly straightened his back.

His face turned somewhat red.

He quickly patted his chest as though trying to reassure both his brother and himself.

"It’s not fear; I’m just worried that failing the mission will ruin Steffan’s plans," White Ghost said, patting his chest, though his voice was somewhat shaky.