The Deadly Assassin Robin

Chapter 221 You're Beautiful

The Eastvale Development Group, security department's conference room.

Robin was deep into the TrustGen Loans paperwork when Carson's call interrupted him.

"Mr. Ramsey, I mentioned Brookhaven Martial Alliance's plan to open a branch in Harmonfield. Today's the big day. Do you have time to join us for the inauguration?"

Robin barely looked up, responding, "Sure, I'll finish up here and head over. Where's it being held?"

"If you're free, I can pick you up, and we'll head to the Harmonfield Hotel together," Carson suggested.

Robin checked the clock, then shook his head. "No need to come out of your way. Just send me the details, and I'll meet you there."

Carson, understanding, quickly texted over the address and time for the ceremony at Harmonfield Hotel's Crown Banquet.

...

The Crown Banquet was alive with grandeur, each corner decked in vibrant splendor and filled with an air of anticipation.

It was the day the Brookhaven Martial Alliance would officially launch its Harmonfield branch.

Representatives from each alliance chapter in Draconia were in attendance, along with the formidable six elder enforcers from the main headquarters.

Guests ranged from the most influential families of Brookhaven and Harmonfield to martial arts practitioners across Draconia, famed family heads, and notable figures from the state's social elite. By 9 a.m., the hotel's opulent walls stood witness to the arrival of dignitaries from every corner.

Among them, Ruby had spared nothing in her preparations, hiring stylists and image consultants to achieve a flawless look.

Spending six-figure later, she sported a refined hairstyle, artfully applied makeup, and a gown that spoke of elegance and luxury.

As she stepped into the ballroom, the heads of numerous high-society guests turned to admire her.

Wilhelm Dixon, the Dixon Group's second son-and a close ally of the Alliance from the provincial capital caught sight of Ruby descending the staircase.

He wasted no time, approaching with a courteous smile, offering his arm as he escorted her into the center of the hall.

"Ruby, you're absolutely captivating tonight," he said, with a warmth that left little doubt about his admiration.

The Dixon Group held an essential role as one of Brookhaven Martial Alliance's primary financial pillars.

The Dixons and the Quinns had been allies for generations.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Wilhelm, the second son of the Dixons, had admired Ruby for as long as he could remember.

But with the Alliance towering over them in influence, Dixon Group remained modest in stature.

So Wilhelm kept his admiration hidden, unspoken, as if silence could shield him from the consequences of his desires.

Tonight, Ruby stood at the center of the ballroom, carrying herself with the poise of a queen. Wilhelm felt his heart thud as he followed her every movement, eager to attend to her slightest whim.

Just then, a young man with striking features strode from the crowd, his confident smile aimed straight at Ruby. "Ruby, you look breathtaking tonight! I almost didn't recognize you."

Ruby lifted her chin, a hint of a smile curling at her lips. "Oh? So you're saying I don't usually look this good?" she teased, her laugh light and melodic.

The young man was Finn Eaton, son of Cade Eaton, the Alliance's Chief Elder of Discipline.

A rising star, Finn was known among Brookhaven's younger generation for his unmatched skill and intensity.

With Cade being Ronald's first disciple, Finn and Ruby had grown up side by side, building a bond that ran deep.

From his youth, Finn had admired her, with all the fervor and uncertainty of young love.

Ruby had sensed his affection long ago, yet, in her mind, Finn never quite reached the standard she envisioned.

Still, she never spoke of it, enjoying the unspoken adoration, as if the men drawn to her were stars revolving around her own sun.

This attention filled her with a heady sense of satisfaction.

In moments, Ruby became the centerpiece of the entire banquet hall.

Around her gathered a circle of young men, each one striving to catch her attention, each one hoping for a hint of her favor.

And Ruby drank it all in, delighting in the flattery and admiration as if they were offerings made to royalty.

Under the glittering chandelier, Ruby stood, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, and her gown radiating elegance and opulence.

Around her, voices murmured praise, words laced with admiration, envy, and wonder.

It filled her with a quiet exhilaration.

Tonight, the grand hall of the Brookhaven Martial Alliance was, without question, her stage.

She was certain everyone here would pay her the respect she deserved.

Ruby had been raised in such an atmosphere-surrounded by adoration, spoiled by endless indulgence.

She was used to the feeling, and she basked in it now, catching the awe, reverence, and, perhaps, a touch of flattery in the eyes that followed her. A calm pride settled over her. Kyler appeared from the back of the hall, pausing as he took in his daughter's appearance, the elegance she wore like a second skin. A glint of approval crossed his face. "Ruby, you look perfect. Show our guests the respect they deserve," he said, smiling as he greeted each guest with a polite wave.

Then, with a purposeful stride, he made his way toward the hotel entrance.

There was someone significant to greet-Wilder Lennon, the esteemed president of the Draconia Holistic Medicine and Health Association.

Ronald himself had extended the invitation, personally.

Wilder was not only Apollo's most respected disciple but had recently made waves by curing the illnesses of Martin and Timothy.

For decades, Ronald had battled a strange affliction of his own. In Wilder, he hoped to find the relief he had long sought.

Years before, Apollo had predicted that his protégé's potential was boundless.

At the hotel's entrance, Kyler welcomed Wilder and Drake with a warm nod. "Mr. Lennon, Mr. Dunn, good evening. Follow me upstairs; my father is waiting in the VIP lounge."

After a few cordial exchanges, Wilder and Drake accompanied Kyler to the second floor, where the lounge awaited them.

In the center of the room sat Ronald, his form reclining in a wheelchair.

Behind him, four men stood in silence, each in their forties, faces hard and impassive, as though carved from stone.

They stood unmoving, as if bound to him as solemn protectors.

The Four Heavenly Kings of the Brookhaven Martial Alliance were men spoken of in reverent whispers, figures who seemed to tread the line between the real and the ethereal.

They were orphans once, foundlings taken in by Ronald when he was still forging the Alliance.

They were Ronald's very first students

Their skills were whispered to be beyond mortal comprehension.

When the Alliance was in its infancy, trembling under threats that could have torn it apart, it was these four who held the line.

The stories told of blood-soaked battles, of last-minute rescues-how they turned the tide when defeat seemed certain. They made the Alliance something to be feared, to be respected, to be seen.

Afterward, the Brookhaven Martial Alliance spread its influence throughout Draconia.

Yet as the Alliance gained power, the Four Heavenly Kings began to fade from view, retreating into the shadows, until even legends became scarce.

Tonight, for them to stand here-silent sentinels in Ronald's presence felt as if an ancient power had stirred once again.

Wilder and Drake stepped into the VIP lounge, where Ronald gestured a greeting from his wheelchair, his face etched with weariness. "It's a privilege to have you both here. I regret I couldn't greet you at the door," he said, a hint of fatigue in his voice. Wilder and Drake bowed with respect. "Please, Mr. Quinn, there's no need for apologies," Wilder replied warmly.

Wilder's gaze lingered on Ronald's face, noting the pallor beneath his skin. "How have you been feeling, sir?"

Ronald gave a faint sigh, his tone heavy. "This illness has haunted me for decades. Apollo, your mentor, prescribed me a remedy back then, a treatment that's kept me here as long as it has."

"Were it not for the elusive Violet Wyvernroot, I doubt I'd have survived this long."

He paused, collecting his thoughts. "This year marks thirty-six years of struggle with this sickness. Just yesterday, my granddaughter Ruby tried to secure the Violet Wyvernroot for me, but it was snatched away."

Ronald looked to Wilder, a spark of hope in his eyes. "I've asked you here, Wilder, in the hope that you might help me secure a 500-year-old Wyvernroot."

Wilder's expression grew thoughtful, and he nodded. "Violet Wyvernroot is rare, Mr. Quinn, but I have ways to procure it. Securing one of such age will be no easy feat, but I'll have one brought to you by tomorrow." Ronald inclined his head slightly. "Thank you, Mr. Lennon."

"I recently heard that General Wright's health has seen an astonishing recovery thanks to your efforts," he said, shifting his attention to Drake.

"And Mr. Dunn, congratulations on Timothy's recovery, which is also credited to Mr. Lennon's expertise, I believe."

Wilder waved his hand in a gesture of humility. "I appreciate your kind words, Mr. Quinn, but I must clarify. What you've heard is somewhat exaggerated. I cannot take credit for their recoveries; there exists another healer responsible for these remarkable results." "Oh?" Ronald raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised.

He was already aware that another talented practitioner had healed both Martin and Timothy.

His comments served as a courtesy, a gesture of respect toward Wilder.

"A different healer?" Ronald maintained the act, allowing his curiosity to show.

"Wilder, is there truly someone in Draconia whose skill surpasses yours? That's hard to believe!"

Wilder laughed lightly. "Mr. Quinn, every discipline has its experts. No one can genuinely claim to have reached the absolute peak of their craft without challenge."

"There is always a greater talent, a higher peak. No one would dare proclaim themselves the best in the world."

"Consider your Martial Alliance," he said, glancing at Kyler and Ronald. "Even with disciples across the region, would you assert your total dominance over the martial realm?"

Ronald and Kyler smiled, nodding in agreement, though a brief flicker of annoyance passed between them-a nuance so slight that it might have gone unnoticed.

In their view, Brookhaven Martial Alliance held the title of the strongest in Draconia, unrivaled in power.

Yet, they kept these thoughts private, maintaining a polished demeanor in front of Wilder and Drake.

Wilder, oblivious to their momentary reaction, continued. "I have devoted decades to studying under my mentor, Apollo, yet I feel as if I have merely grazed the surface of genuine medical knowledge."

"The intricacies of healing are vast, far beyond what I could hope to master in a single lifetime."

"It was only after encountering this remarkable healer that I recognized how limited my abilities truly are."

"And this healer? He is merely in his early twenties."

"That young man has become my teacher in every sense."

"Wilder, you're being too humble. Since you praise this healer so highly, could you arrange an introduction?"

"If he can alleviate my peculiar illness, my family would willingly part with whatever it takes. We would hold nothing back."

Wilder sighed, shaking his head. "Mr. Quinn, I must be frank. I have sought to learn from him, yet he has no interest in taking on students."

That said, he added, "there's a chance I could convince my master to help you. Still, I cannot promise his cooperation."

Ronald inclined his head, gratitude evident in his expression. "I appreciate that, Wilder!"

Kyler leaned in, his voice low. "Dad, Carson has invited another healer to the gathering today. They say he possesses remarkable skills. I think it would be wise to ask him to take a look at you." Ronald's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? If this distinguished person can treat me, it would save us from needing Wilder's assistance."

Just then, a disciple from the Martial Alliance hurried over. He approached Kyler, his voice urgent as he whispered, "Sir, we've found the culprits responsible for Butcher and Mr. Spencer's deaths."