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His Lordship Alexander Kane by Useless Caesar

Chapter 454
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Chapter 0454 Deep into the night, a chilling wind whispered through the desolate northern cliffs. At the base, an eerie, long-forgotten wooden shack stood, its door creaking open under the careful hand of Quinby Yanker. He slipped inside, his movements as silent as the shadows that danced across the walls.

That was the place, the exact location Zane's note had led him to.

The interior of the shack was a testament to neglect, with cobwebs every corner and decades-old decor buried under a thick blanket of dust. It was clear no soul had set foot there in ages.

"Thirty years ago, that was a hideout

for the Black Maple," Quinby murmured to himself. He paused, pulling out a northern map and marking it with a stark red 'X' before shaking his head and heading back to the door.

His every sense was on high alert. As a proud practitioner of the Divine Ape Backbreaking Fist and a protege of Zane, Quinby had been on many such missions, each executed flawlessly.

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This night would be no different.

He had been vigilant since stepping into the shack, his focus razor-sharp, ready for any hint of danger. However, as he moved to leave, nothing had seemed amiss—until that final moment.

In a heartbeat, Quinby felt a shiver of premonition. Without a second's FT

hesitation, he exploded into action, his fist launching with the force of a wildfire, targeting an unseen threat at his back.

The Old Mystic Flash was a fundamental move of his martial art, swift and devastating. It was a strike that could shatter steel, aimed at the lower defenses of an adversary.

However, what followed was unexpected—a sharp, resounding crack.

His right hook, unstoppable in its fury, collided with what might as well have been an unbreakable wall of the toughest alloy, snapping his wrist bone clean through. The jagged ends of the bone jutted out from beneath the skin, a gush of bright red blood painting the scene.

The difference in their power was staggering, In the shadows, a figure too blurred for the eye to catch let out a raspy, chilling chuckle. With a nonchalant flick of his left hand, he ripped off half of Quinby's right arm. Then, with a swift sidestep, he grabbed Quinby's throat with an ease that belied his strength.

"Stop, please stop!" Agony from the torn limb wracked Quinby's body, making him shudder violently. He managed to force out a plea, "Mercy, sir, you've got it all wrong..." A misunderstanding? "Divine Ape Backbreaking Fist, and you're from the Yanker family, yet you claim a misunderstanding? Ha!" The shadowy figure scoffed and gave

no room for Quinby to explain. With a fierce twist, he snapped OQuinby's neck.

Crack! He tossed the lifeless body aside as if it were nothing, sending it flying over ten meters.

"I've always steered clear of the Yanker family, yet they've dared to cross me." He turned northward, his wild, blood- red eyes flashing menacingly from beneath a tangle of long hair.

"yankers...just you wait." Beneath the cloak of night, the man, wild and imposing, crouched on powerful legs and leaped an astonishing forty meters, racing towards Yewspire Mountain.

The night wind whipped through his hair, revealing a face that was a stark contrast of light and dark. One side was relatively untouched, the other a map of scars, as if mauled by a bear, a sight both gruesome and awe-inspiring.

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At the base of Yewspire Mountain, within the solemn walls of the Yanker family's ancestral hall, a sense of urgency hung in the air.

""Quinby was sent to scout for information, and he's still not back," Zane announced, his back to the entrance as he addressed the gathered kin. His voice was heavy with concern.

"I'm afraid he might be gone for good." A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. They were in disbelief as the

| Yanker family members exchanged worried glances, They all knew Quinby's reputation for being tough.

He was not the highest-ranked among the young ones, but his knack for staying alive was legendary — easily in the top five.

Who could take down someone like Quinby? It would be a feat for even the most skilled Grandmaster, let alone anyone less. It had to be the work of a supreme grand martial.

"Supreme grand martial..." Zane muttered under his breath. He pulled out a simple, plastic-cased cell phone and painstakingly typed out a message.

After a long pause, he finally hit send.

The message was brief.