Chapter 125: The Experts He Bought
The Experts He Bought
He had defense.
But zero combat power.
Which meant one thing.
He needed someone else to do the fighting.
And Julian D’Aurelius already had someone in mind.
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During this period, the three major families of Valemont had quietly begun strengthening their forces.
After the conflict with Evan escalated, none of them were willing to sit still and wait.
Money began flowing.
Experts began appearing.
The D’Aurelius Family was no exception.
In fact, they had already spent a considerable sum recruiting two Old Martial Arts practitioners.
Both of them belonged to the Iron Realm.
Among the ranks of Old Martial Arts—Iron, Silver, Gold, and Platinum—the Iron Realm was the lowest level.
But even so, true practitioners were extremely rare.
A single Iron Realm martial artist could easily defeat ten trained professional bodyguards.
And these two were not just random fighters.
They were a father-and-son pair.
The father’s name was Timur.
He was already over sixty years old.
His hair had turned mostly gray, but his back remained straight like a spear. His eyes were sharp and calm, the gaze of someone who had lived through decades of martial training.
The son was Jareb, a man in his early forties.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, with thick arms and a face that carried the stubborn confidence of someone who believed strongly in his own strength.
Both men stood quietly in the D’Aurelius estate courtyard.
When Julian approached, they gave a brief nod.
"Hello, Young Master Julian."
Their tone was polite.
But distant.
Their expressions carried the faint pride common among martial artists.
Julian noticed it immediately.
But he didn’t mind.
After all, this was exactly how these characters behaved in those typical feel-good protagonist novels.
Experts hired by wealthy villain families were always dissatisfied.
They acted reluctantly.
During fights they would even say lines like:
"I have no choice but to work for the young master."
"I’m only doing this for money."
Then they would lose gloriously to the protagonist.
Julian couldn’t help chuckling internally.
Ah... classic cannon-fodder expert behavior.
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Julian crossed his arms casually.
"I’ll be going out later," he said calmly.
"There will be some experts coming to cause me trouble."
Timur’s eyebrows moved slightly.
Jareb glanced at his father.
Experts?
Julian continued speaking.
"But you don’t need to act very immediately."
"I’ll play with them first."
"When the time is right, I’ll gave signal you."
"Then you make your move."
He spoke as if everything had already been arranged.
In truth—
It had.
Because the people coming tonight...
Were the Scythe Division.
And even these two Iron Realm fighters wouldn’t stand a chance against them.
The Scythe Division members were all peak Iron Realm experts.
Even among Iron Realm practitioners, they were considered invincible.
Anything trained by the Obsidian Wing organization was terrifying.
As the saying went—
Even a dog raised by the Obsidian Wing would be the king of dogs.
Timur and Jareb exchanged a quick glance.
A faint trace of mockery appeared in their eyes.
Experts?
Ridiculous.
What kind of expert could a pampered young master like this even recognize?
Anyone capable of exchanging a few moves with a rich kid like him was probably trash.
Jareb couldn’t hold himself back.
He stepped forward slightly.
"Young Master Julian," he said with restrained irritation.
"We came here because we were told we would deal with experts."
"If it’s just bullying ordinary people..."
"Wouldn’t it be better to let your bodyguards handle it?"
His tone remained respectful.
But the meaning behind his words was clear.
We didn’t come here to be thugs.
As martial artists, their pride wouldn’t allow them to become tools for a spoiled rich kid’s bullying.
Julian rolled his eyes.
"These people are experts."
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Just come with me."
"Don’t waste time."
Jareb’s face darkened slightly.
Experts?
What nonsense.
If he had known this was the kind of job he was being hired for, he would never have agreed.
Timur quietly placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.
His voice was calm.
"Jun—Jareb."
"Be patient."
The older man’s eyes were thoughtful.
"Let’s see first."
He understood something his son didn’t yet.
The D’Aurelius Family had spent enormous money to hire them.
Such a powerful household wouldn’t make meaningless arrangements.
Still—
If this really turned out to be humiliation...
They would leave immediately.
Soon, the vehicles were prepared.
Julian had arranged everything himself.
Timur and Jareb were placed in a relatively low-key sedan.
Julian, on the other hand—
Climbed into his Lamborghini Veneno.
The engine roared like a beast the moment it started.
Jareb stared at the flashy car ahead of them through the windshield.
His lips twitched.
"Dad..."
"What exactly is going on with the D’Aurelius Family?"
His tone was full of dissatisfaction.
"They told us we were hired to deal with an expert."
"But our first task is following a rich young master around?"
"To handle experts he can supposedly deal with himself?"
He scoffed quietly.
"This is humiliating."
"Our family name will be ruined."
Their household had once been a respected Old Martial Arts family in Valemont.
Even though times had changed, they still carried their pride.
They had accepted the D’Aurelius offer because the payment was massive.
And because they were told there would be powerful opponents.
But now—
They were escorting a young master on what looked like a petty outing.
Timur sighed.
His gaze remained on the Lamborghini driving ahead.
"Let’s just follow him this time."
His voice was steady.
"If things are truly as you say..."
"We’ll resign tonight."
There was quiet dignity in his words.
A martial artist who had trained for decades would never accept becoming a mere thug.
Jareb nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"If it’s really like this..."
"We leave."
The car continued moving through the quiet streets of Valemont.
Ahead of them—
Julian’s Lamborghini cut through the night like a blade.
And neither father nor son realized...
That they were driving straight toward a battle they could barely imagine.