Chapter 538

Chapter 538:

Although Luther wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses that gave him the air of a scholarly gentleman, his background was anything but bookish.

Raised under his family’s watchful eye, he had been steeped in martial arts since he could walk.

Not only did he possess a natural gift for boxing, but he had also earned a medal representing his college, securing a place among the ranks of respected fighters.

Standing before him now was Ashton—a delicate-looking figure whose refined features made him seem like the sort who might shun a fly, let alone a fist.

The sight filled Luther with quiet confidence; here, surely, was an opponent he could crush as effortlessly as an apple in his palm.

Before Ashton could react, Luther reached out for a handshake, masking his intentions with a friendly gesture while quietly tightening his grip to teach Ashton a hard lesson.

Yet, to Luther’s astonishment, no matter how much force he poured into his grip, even as veins began to rise like snakes on his forehead, Ashton remained utterly unaffected, as though Luther’s strength were little more than a gentle breeze.

How was this possible?

Perplexed, Luther struggled to comprehend the situation. Just moments ago, he could have crushed an apple with that very grip, reducing it to juice.

Even if Ashton could withstand the pressure, he should have shown some hint of discomfort.

Then, without warning, Ashton responded. With an air as light as a feather yet a force as unyielding as steel, Ashton’s grip tightened.

Ashton’s expression held that same serene smile, but Luther felt as if his hand were caught in a hydraulic vice. A sudden jolt of pain shot through Luther’s hand, a sensation so intense it left him wondering if his bones had splintered.

Discover new content now gⱯlnσνeℓs․cøm

His face contorted, a grimace betraying the agony he felt. Yet, as he caught sight of Ashton’s unruffled smile, a defiant fire ignited within him. Luther refused to surrender.

With his teeth clenched and a fierce look blazing in his eyes, he pressed on, every muscle straining as veins bulged at his neck. He poured every ounce of strength he possessed into his grip, holding his ground by sheer force of will.

Against Ashton’s overwhelming power, he managed to maintain the stalemate—but only just.

Still, the contrast between their expressions told the unspoken tale: Ashton appeared calm, his face betraying nothing more than polite interest, while Luther grimaced, each new wave of force contorting his features.

To an outside observer, the battle remained invisible.

In Alisha’s eyes, it appeared as if Luther was simply grimacing for no apparent reason, while Ashton seemed unbothered, extending a normal handshake.

The perplexing scene left Alisha utterly baffled.

Familiar with Luther’s antics, she naturally took Ashton’s side. She shot Luther a sharp look and chided, “Luther, are you up to your tricks again? Ashton’s my father’s guest—how dare you try to intimidate him in front of me!”

.

.

.