The waiter was an ordinary-looking man. He was slightly stocky but had an honest appearance.

The man whose shirt was stained with juice stood up, grabbed the waiter's collar, and shouted angrily, "You useless piece of crap! Do you know how much this shirt costs?"

The waiter stammered miserably, "Sir, it was an accident. How about I take it to the best dry cleaners in Bint City..."

The patrons here were either rich or powerful. It was not uncommon for a single garment to cost over a million. Spending a bit of money to get it cleaned at the best dry cleaners was better than compensating for the whole outfit. "Clean, my ass! Get on your knees and apologize!" The man roared before slapping the waiter across the face. The slap, however, never landed on the waiter's face.

Instead, it struck Nash's hand.

The scion paused before shooting a glare at Nash. "You want to meddle in this, huh?"

Nash responded with a backhand slap, sending the scion flying. He had initially intended to reason with the man, but some people just needed to be dealt with aggressively. The entire restaurant was stunned into silence.

"What the hell? How dare he hit someone? And in the Empire Hotel, no less?"

A woman wearing heavy make-up adorned with gold and silver stood up. She began to spew profanities, "You blind dog! Do you know who you just hit?"

Nash slapped the woman and sent her flying too.

A short, stout man sitting next to the woman stood up.

"You-"

Nash did not give him a chance to speak and slapped him to the ground.

The two remaining people shrank back, staring at the floor in fear. They had seen tough people but never someone this ruthless! He was a madman!

By then, the scion had already gotten up to his feet. He clutched his swollen face and pulled out his phone to call his bodyguards. "I've been hit. Get in here now!"

The waiter was still in a state of shock. It was not until the scion started calling for backup that he snapped out of it. Looking at Nash, he stammered, "S-Sir... you..."

The waiter recognized Nash's face, and his pupils constricted in surprise. He was unable to speak coherently.

"Long time no see, Pup!" Nash grinned.

"Holy crap, it's really you!"

Laughing, Nash gave the man a hearty hug.

There was a hidden village called Peach Village at the foot of Tili Mountain, and Nash often played there when he was five to 15 years old. Ryan, affectionately known as Pup, was Nash's closest friend since they were kids. They played marbles, raided bird nests, caught fish, and even stole the village head's prized black rooster, which he had raised for two and a half years. They even had competitions to see who could run the farthest.

When Ryan graduated from middle school at 14, their paths began to diverge. One day, while lying on the grass, they talked about their dreams. "Ryan, what's your dream?" Nash asked.

With a blade of grass in his mouth and a half-smoked cigarette stolen from his father between his fingers, Ryan grinned and said, "My dream is to get into a good university, marry a rich and beautiful woman, and reach the peak of life!"

Then, he asked Nash about his dream. Nash replied, "My dream is to become as strong as my master and maintain world peace!" The villagers knew Nash had a very skilled master who was a renowned holistic doctor. He was the one who treated all their ailments.

At this moment, a group of seven to eight bodyguards rushed into the room. They were led by a man with a limp but who possessed cultivation that reached the early stage of the Profound Reality Realm.

The scion, whose face was now swollen after being slapped, pointed at Nash and shouted, "This man hit me! Break his legs!"

Ryan stepped in front of Nash. Facing the bodyguards, he said, "If there's a problem, come at me. This has nothing to do with my friend!"

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