Chapter 68 – The Duel
Titus shouted: "EVERYONE SHUT UP!"
His scream sliced through the air like a whip, forcing a dead silence across the restaurant. Everyone—even Ken and Manager Miller—froze. The focus was now entirely on him.
Titus stepped down from the chair calmly and adjusted his vest.
"That's better. We're not getting anywhere like this. We need to be more mature and settle this with maturity. Agreed?"
Everyone—the crowd, the boys, the guards, the customers, even Ken's supposed friends—thought Titus was right. No one spoke. Absolute silence.
Ken spoke with disdain and a forced smile: "What do you suggest, slave?"
Titus replied: "Something very simple."
Ken pressed: "Well? You can talk without taking so long."
Titus bowed sarcastically: "Yes, of course, forgive me, Mr. Ken. My solution is that we have a duel."
Ken burst into laughter: "A duel? What are we, musketeers? Gonna use your chicken brain? Fine, I accept! But not against this idiot—" he pointed at Bruno, "—It'll be against YOU, slave. What are we betting?"
Ken narrowed his eyes: "And if you lose?"
Titus pointed openly at Ken: "If we lose, we surrender ourselves to you to do whatever you want. But you must put something bigger on the line, Mr. Ken. If we win, you renounce your inheritance and are excluded from the Liz Mayer family. Do you accept the bet, Mr. Ken?"
After a long pause, a sinister smile spread across Ken's face: "My fortune against the insolence of a couple of parasites? Done. DONE!"
Titus stepped forward, his voice a whisper filled with intent: "Do you agree that we will have a duel?"
Ken snapped: "I already said yes, slave. On top of stupid, are you deaf!?"
Titus jumped quickly from his seat, grabbed a white cloth napkin from a nearby table and, with a quick, dry movement, slapped Ken across the face, making his head snap to the side.
Ken grabbed his cheek, shocked and in pain: "What the hell are you doing, idiot?! THAT HURTS!"
Walter's voice narrated: "The ancient rules of chivalry to formalize a duel require issuing the challenge with a strike to the cheek using a white glove. Since he didn't have one, Titus improvised with the napkin. That strike seals the challenge."
Ken's lip trembled with rage, wiping his cheek with disdain: "You touched me, rat! You're going to pay for that insolence with every inch of your miserable existence!"
Titus ignored the threat, locking eyes with Ken: "The duel will be…"
Ken stood slowly, icy gaze: "What will the duel be, slave? Tell me the rules and let's end this farce!"
Titus spoke with a sarcastic tone and a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes: "It will be that if we lose, we are your slaves and do whatever you command. And look—there are two pretty girls… you'll be able to do whatever you want with them, what do you think?"
Ken's anger trembled in his fists, but greed overpowered rage: "I already accepted the conditions, idiot! I don't need you repeating them! The question is: what's the challenge?! Say it already!"
Titus replied: "The challenge is… wait, you still haven't heard what YOU must pay."
Ken demanded: "JUST SAY IT!"
Titus stated: "If I win, besides everything else, you'll become our slave and give me the keys to your Mercedes‑Benz sports car."
Ken shouted, incredulous: "WHAT?! You're insane! NEVER!"
Titus mocked with an almost childlike tone: "Aww, poor little boy! He doesn't want to?"
Ken capitulated: "What do you think, idiot?! YES, I accept, you miserable worm!"
Walter intervened with an authoritative voice: "The terms have been accepted. Now it's time to choose what type of duel it will be."
Ken pointed quickly at his crew: "All of us against you four and a half!" He mocked Bruno, "And the wheelchair guy doesn't get out of this. It'll be bare hands, street fight!"
The boys exchanged glances, each with a wicked smile, and nodded in agreement.
Titus confirmed: "Yes, we accept."
Ken laughed with contempt and malice: "You're all idiots! Two women, an invalid… Barely need to worry about that giant, but I've got many men—even bigger than him!"
Titus declared: "Let's go to the back of the restaurant."
Miller was terrified, pleading: "No, Liz Mayer family, please! They're going to massacre you! What am I supposed to tell your family? Please, don't go!"
Cristal spoke with absolute coldness: "Don't worry. Everything will be fine. I just need one favor."
Miller was desperate: "Anything, Miss Liz Mayer!"
Cristal commanded: "Call several ambulances. For them. They'll need them. And turn off the security cameras. If you don't, forget your career—and personally, I'll make sure you're buried alive. Understood?"
Miller nodded, trembling. "Yes, ma'am."
Cristal snapped: "Go. What are you waiting for?"
Miller was nervous: "Yes, yes…"
Miller ran to the office and shut down the recording system. Everyone headed toward the back door—toward the dumpsters and delivery area.
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Hook: And somewhere, a gaze was following his every step…