Chapter 592


    It’s a small world.


    In a surprising turn of events, he came across Marlowe Yanice.


    Bruce, whenever he stepped out, was usually apanied by a swarm of bodyguards. Even in their


    absence, he was incredibly discreet in his movements, doing everything possible to avoid being


    identified.


    He was, after all the wealthiest man in Greyport. There were plenty who wouldn’t mind stirring up


    trouble for him.


    Marlowe gave a malevolent smile, “Execute it smoothly. Let’s not stir up any fuss.”


    The assistant responded in a devious tone, “Rest assured, President Yanice.”


    Il arrange it over a call…


    Text ? by N0ve/lDrama.Org.


    As Bruce drove, there was a churning unease in his chest.


    Summoning every ounce of strength that remained, he attempted to swallow a few times, aborious


    task that seemed to drain him more than he’d like to admit. Yet, the uneasy difort refused to


    subside, lingering at the back of his throat like an unwee guest. His throat itched unbearably,


    prompting a string of harsh coughs that resonated within the confined space of the wrecked vehicle.


    His futile attempt to regain control of his situation was punctuated by a low, involuntary groan, “Cough,


    cough, ugh…


    He couldn’t suppress the urge to cough out a mouthful of blood.


    Bruce frowned and instinctively wiped the corner of his lips with his sleeve.


    With almost three days of no sleep, his body was sumbing to extreme exhaustion.


    Driving in this state was a recipe for disaster.


    Finding himself momentarily lost in a daze, Bruce was abruptly pulled back into the realm of reality by


    the unexpected sight of a dpidated van. Without so much as the courtesy of a blinker, the driver


    recklessly manoeuvred his vehicle into The adjacentne.


    “Ahl” Bruce eximed, quickly maneuvering his car. He narrowly avoided crashing into the van.


    Bruce cursed under his breath, “What the hell, learn to drive!”


    Before he couldpose himself, the van deliberately changednes again, blocking his way.


    Simultaneously, another car swerved in aggressively, boxing in his vehicle.


    The grinding noise of metal on metal sparked friction.


    Bruce’s eyes narrowed as he realized he was in trouble.


    Even though he was skilled and could handle a handful of attackers, any armed adversary would spell


    danger,


    For now, it was best not to exit the car.


    Bruce mmed the elerator, aiming to overtake the obstructing vehicle.


    Unfortunately, the van kept hitting the brakes, attempting to halt his progress.


    “Crash, crash!”


    Two cars from either side sandwiched Bruce’s vehicle in the middle.


    Bruce’s face fell, He revved the engine, barreling forward with full throttle.


    The doors of his car were utterly deformed from the relentless assault.


    a


    “Bang!” To the astonishment of the other drivers, they had not only failed to stop Bruce but their


    vehicles crashed into each other instead.


    In an instant, both vehicles flipped over.


    Bruce had barely breathed a sigh of relief when a woman pushing a stroller appeared in front. Ignoring


    the traffic signal, she crossed the road directly.


    “Ah…” Bruce, driving too fast to swerve in time, was forced to in the brakes and steer away.


    “Crash! Bang!”


    The car,pletely beyond the driver’s control, spun around its own axis in an all too familiar dance,


    reminiscent of a top. The once shiny rubber tires dragged vehemently against the rough road surface,


    leaving behind an undeniable circr evidence of the vehicle’s skid


    The inertia proved too overpowering to resist. The car, forced into submission, carried out an


    astonishing 360-degree aerial rotation. Following this stunning disy, the vehicle met with an


    unforgiving crash, as it mmed heavily onto the unforgiving asphalt.


    The colossal force propelled the car forward several meters until it hit a flower bed.


    Passersby at a distance were left stunned.


    The scene was reminiscent of a Hollywood car crash movie special effect.


    In such a disastrous ident, it seemed unlikely for anyone inside the car to have survived.


    “Oh my god, there’s been a car ident up ahead.”


    “Someone should help! Call the police quickly.”


    “How awful!” Onlookers rushed towards the wreckage, ready to help.


    Caught in the maelstrom. Bruce found himself pinned cruelly under the weight of the car, his chest


    feeling as if it had been put through a shredder. Several ribs had snapped under the crushing pressure.


    Blood, rich and crimson, spurted from his mouth in pulsing waves. As if mocking the cruel twist of fate,


    the blood found its way past the confines of the car, staining the exterior in a grim reminder of the


    unfolding catastrophie.