"We're evicting you from Lanecorp!" Dorek laughed. "It belongs to us Yimmels from now on, along with anything else you own! Hand everything over!"

Frank scowled. "So you're going to take it from us?"

"We are, and what about it?" Dorek chuckled confidently, twirling his bangs. "My great grandmother has taken over Laneville, and it's just a matter of time before we gobble up the rest. I'm just beating my brother to get the largest piece of the pie... So are you going to fight me or not? Show me your shitty Draconian martial arts!" Dorek looked no more than eighteen, but he was utterly pompous and unseemly to the point of stupid.

Frank actually thought that might be the case-did the brat think that beating Lanecorp's security and getting inside Helen's office meant taking over Laneocrp?

Still, he sighed exasperatedly as he glanced behind at the Lanecorp health and safety department personnel left on the floor.

Stupidity aside, the brat could throw a punch.

"What's your name?" Frank asked impassively.

"Urgh, what a pain." The youth rolled his eyes. "I'm Dorek Yimmel, Yora Yimmel's great-grandson. Look, if you're scared, just get your board chair out here and sign Lanecorp over to me. Or else... Hehehe." Frank almost laughed at Dorek's naive demand.

to see Draconian martial arts? Very

so you actually have some

stance, wagging a finger at him provokingly. "I'll even let you have

and was suddenly right

stomach even before he could react. He

"What..." He gasped.

the Draconian martial arts you've been making light

flying with an upwards kick

around like a rag dog before landing into

the Yimmel family's importance protecting him, he grew conceitful with each passing

train in Draconian martial arts-it was to

could not

techniques before returning to Bralog

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