Chapter 218 - The Quinn School Of Martial Arts' Disciples Are Not To Be Messed With
Lucas stopped Paul after he took a couple of steps toward the training gym. He said, "Master doesn't allow unofficial disciples to enter the training gym, Paul. No one is allowed to break that rule."
The Quinn School of Martial Arts only imparted martial arts techniques to their official disciples and never the unofficial ones.
All official disciples were required to be in the training gym when they were practicing their techniques. The reason why Paul had tried so many times to go there was just so he could take a look at the sect's official disciple-exclusive techniques.
Upon being stopped by Lucas, he laughed and smacked his head lightly. "Oh, would you look at that? The moment I get busy, I just forget all the rules. Alright, I'll just sit outside and have some coffee for a while, then!"
Lucas nodded. The two of them stayed outside and chatted for two hours before Paul finally left with a big smile.
Paul didn't go home. Instead, he went to the Hoffmans'.
Jordan was currently training in the gym. Fierce and menacing-looking veins surfaced on his arms as he lifted the dumbbells, forming a fearsome sight.
Paul was also taken aback when he entered and saw his sturdy and muscular physique.
To be honest, it was hard to say whether or not he could really beat Jordan in a one-on-one fight. After all, the martial arts techniques that he had picked up at the Quinn School of Martial Arts were just some fancy-looking moves that were all show and no substance.
However, that didn't stand in the way of him expanding the Quinlan Sect.
A smiling Paul said, "Sorry for coming over unannounced so abruptly, Mr. Hoffman!"
Jordan was a boor, so he detested such meaningless small talk from Paul the most. He put down his dumbbells, patted his arms, and bellowed in a voice so loud that it could deafen, "What brings you here, Mr. Quinlan?"
Paul walked over, sat down, and replied, "I'm here to discuss a business opportunity with you, Mr. Hoffman."
The Hoffmans and the Quinlan Sect were rivals, and both had different turfs, so what kind of business opportunity could they possibly share?
Jordan's eyes narrowed. He picked up a bottle of mineral water and poured it all over himself from the top of his head. It was only after he rinsed off the cold sweat on himself that he felt much more comfortable. "What business opportunity can we possibly share?" He asked.
Paul gave him a smile. "That sports car club of yours is suffering from poor management, right? The Quinlan Sect intends to buy it. What do you say?"
Jordan's men, who were standing behind him, were furious to hear that. They stepped forward at once and shouted, "What the hell do you mean by saying it's suffering from poor management? You have no idea how much money our sports car club is making!"
Paul neatened his suit. He continued to say with a smile, "When has it ever been the subordinates' place to interrupt us when we're talking, Mr. Hoffman?"
Jordan's subordinate in question became even angrier. "You—"
However, Jordan stretched out his arm to stop him. "Alright, that's enough. Let's listen to what Mr. Quilan has to say first."
To outsiders, calling it a sports car club might sound pretty nice, but in truth, it was actually their private racetrack. All gambling dens charged entry fees, so how would it possibly not make any money?
This was especially so after Yanci's appearance brought even more people to the sports car club, causing it to become all the more overcrowded.
This was because Logan had races scheduled throughout the upcoming month, so Nora would undoubtedly have to race in his stead. With that, even if the car racing enthusiasts didn't place any bets, they would still purchase admission tickets to watch the races.
That must be the part that had caught Paul's interest, right?
That was why he had developed thoughts of taking a shot at the sports car club!
Paul adjusted his sleeves again and said with a smile, "Linson Leigh can be said to be someone under my care, but he's currently lying paralyzed in the hospital, unable to ever stand for the rest of his life. Of course, I'm not here to hold anyone accountable for it. It's just that I personally also like racing very much, so I'd like to buy over the club."
Jordan's jaw tensed up. "How much are you offering?"
Paul replied unhurriedly, "$800,000."
Jordan, "?"
He was livid. "Mr. Quinlan, you must be kidding, right? Can you even buy that piece of land with $800,000?"
Every inch of land in New York cost an arm and a leg. Even though it was a suburban area, it was a huge plot of land. There was no way $800,000 would ever be enough to buy it.
Paul smiled. "Didn't you buy that piece of land for $800,000 twenty years ago?"
Jordan, "!!"
Property prices had multiplied dozens of times by now!
His expression darkened. "If you're just here to joke around, then you can go now, Mr. Quinlan!"
Paul stood and said, "Well, I'll leave you with what I've said. Do give it some proper thought, Mr. Hoffman."
Jordan sneered, "There's no need for that. If you're short of money, I can sponsor you some, Mr. Quinlan. Why bother coming over to beg? How unbecoming!"
Paul didn't get angry. "Do you know where I was before I came here?"
Jordan, "?"
Paul gave him a smile but didn't say anything. Instead, he turned and left.
Mrs. Hoffman entered the room after he left. She asked with a frown, "What did he mean by that?"
Jordan's brows drew together. He beckoned to his subordinate and instructed, "Ask around and find out where he was before he came here."
"Yes, sir."
Five minutes later, his subordinate got the answer. He said, "He was at the Quinn School of Martial Arts."
Jordan was astonished.
The man explained, "He supposedly chatted for over two hours with Lucas, who oversees all miscellaneous affairs at the Quinn School of Martial Arts. He came straight to us after he left the sect. Could it be the Quinn School of Martial Arts that had told him to take the car racing club from us?"
Jordan frowned. "The Quinn School of Martial Arts is a very big sect with many disciples. Not only do they have to sustain such a big sect's expenses, but they are also located in the city center of New York. Their expenses are indeed significant. It's said that Paul has been amassing wealth all these years outside because of the Quinn School of Martial Arts' instructions."
Mrs. Hoffman became angry at once. "They are too much! It was on account of the Quinn School of Martial Arts that we allowed Paul to be one up on us all this time, but they have come right up to our doorstep to slap us in the face now! How can you tolerate that, Jordan?"
Jordan held her hand and patted the back of her hand lightly. He heaved a sigh and replied, "The Quinn School of Martial Arts and the Irvin School of Martial Arts are the two sects that we cannot afford to mess with the most. I've been wanting to seek refuge with the Irvin School of Martial Arts all these years so that I can contend with Paul, but that person is their current leader. That person has never been short of money, so they are not interested in the olive branch that we offer."
Mrs. Hoffman became even more furious. "But how can we just let him go so far? If you back down this time, he'll buy over all of the Hoffmans' assets at a low price sooner or later!"
Jordan paced about anxiously. The muscles on his big and sturdy body moved under his skin as he did. His fingers tightened and loosened periodically, but a short while later, he hung his head despondently. "But what can we do? We have no more than 200 men under us, but how many disciples do you think the Quinn School of Martial Arts has in the pugilistic world?"
Mrs. Hoffman fell silent.
Everyone in the pugilistic world knew how important sects were.
The Quinn School of Martial Arts had developed very well over the years, so the number of unofficial and official disciples they had could probably add up to almost 10,000!
How were the Hoffmans going to fight against the Quinn School of Martial Arts?
Jordan's subordinates standing behind him all hung their heads dejectedly. They had followed their boss from their hometown to New York, and only managed to build what they currently had after much difficulty. Yet, in the end, was a mere word from someone else enough to erase it all?
Mrs. Hoffman turned around despondently. She took out her cell phone and said, "I'll give Ms. Smith a call."
Jordan was taken aback. "What are you calling her for?"
Mrs.. Hoffman's eyes were all red. She replied, "I'm going to tell her not to participate in the races anymore! Why should we make things easy for Paul?"