The Rise of a Master: It Starts With Rejection

Chapter 897

The young man seemed to be in his early 20s. Hè casually lifted Felix's Rolls-Royce Cullinan with one hand as if it were weightless and started walking forward.

Lifting something as heavy as a car was not something an ordinary person could do. However, he didn't just lift the car. After taking a few steps, he even balanced it on his pinky finger. Clearly, he wasn't just any martial artist. He had to be someone extraordinary. Felix had no choice but to step forward and stop him. "Excuse me, but that's my car."

The young man paused, looking at Felix with a bit of confusion. "You're sure about that?"

Felix showed him his keys to the car. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure,"

Seeing that, the young man carefully placed the car back down and scratched his head awkwardly. "My bad! I thought it was abandoned. Wait. Is this a Rolls-Royce?"

The young man's expression was sincere, as if he hadn't been exposed to much of the world.

"Yes. It's a Rolls-Royce model called the Cullinan," Felix replied.

The young man grinned. "I knew it! My uncle keeps saying his dream is to drive a Rolls-Royce. I figured I'd just bring one home for him. Guess this one's yours, though." Finding him interesting, Felix approached him. "If you want to get your uncle a Rolls-Royce, you can't just take one. You'll have to buy it. But it's not cheap."

The young man fished around in his pocket and pulled out a little over a thousand dollars. "Is this enough?"

Enough? It might buy a single screw from the car. "Not even close. Like I said, this car is very expensive."

looked disappointed, sighing heavily. Then, as if struck by a sudden idea, his face

with excitement. "Do you think the prize for winning the tournament is enough

strange. Was this guy planning to enter the Dragonia Martial Arts Competition, too? He wasn't

prize for

Competition wasn't

the prestigious Lone Paragon

with a whopping cash prize of a hundred million dollars.

place got

earning high rankings, money wasn't their main motivation.

Once I win the tournament, I

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jumped for joy before clasping his hands together and thanking Felix, "Thanks for clearing that up for me. My name's Ronan Morel." "I'm Felix Zeller," he

else when his attention suddenly snapped toward the nearby forest. Though there was nothing visible there, he kept staring. Felix, still standing beside his Cullinan, raised an eyebrow in surprise. Ronan didn't seem to be just a regular martial

later, someone emerged from the forest,

"Die!"

was barely out of the attacker's mouth

backward, crashing into a tree and slumping unconscious to the ground. "Whoa! Did I

had thrown a punch so casually that it seemed almost effortless, yet its impact was

rushed over to

in relief. "He's