At that moment, in another luxurious office at Ackermann Pharmaceutical, the eldest of the Ackermann brothers and CEO of the pharmaceutical company, Abel, was entertaining an important guest.

It was Cillian, the Gabo Creek Chamber of Commerce bigshot, who had just been beaten up by Andrew and released from the hospital.

"So I'll have to trouble you with this, Abel! Don't give Supreme Capital Group a single cent of their money! I want that to be completely stuck in the mud in Blumedale, to know what it means to be unable to survive here!"

Cillian's face was still wrapped in bandages, but that did not stop his vicious expression from showing through.

Abel wore a custom-tailored vest made by an overseas master craftsman and held a wine glass, gently swirling it. He exuded the aura of a sophisticated urban elite and a successful young entrepreneur.

He laughed and replied, "Don't worry, Mr. Ulrich. He won't get back a single penny from our Ackermann Pharmaceutical! In fact, if