Idle Money System

The place was deathly silent, with only the wails of pain breaking the stillness.

Hearing Alexander's cold and heartless words, Ethan and Jonathan swallowed nervously, feeling as if a deadly knife was pressed against their throats.

Alexander's eyes were calm—deathly calm—as he walked toward them in slow, deliberate strides. But before he could get any closer.

The old man, having recovered a little, stepped forward with both hands behind his back. His previously battered appearance was now restored, revealing his dignified and imposing presence.

"Not bad, kiddo. I really gotta hand it to you. You're so young, yet you're already this strong. If you join a sect, I believe that with your talent, you could easily be accepted as a disciple," Viper Ronan praised him.

Viper Ronan then shook his head, his eyes filled with pity. "But too bad—you will never have that opportunity!" he said, his voice laced with venom.

His killing intent spread outward, and Alexander could clearly feel it. But who was he? Compared to everything he had experienced, this was nothing—his own killing intent had already been honed to perfection.

Seeing the unwavering look in Alexander's eyes, Viper Ronan's expression shifted to one of appreciation.

"Let's end this, kiddo!" he declared as he pounced toward Alexander.

Alexander, who had remained calm from the very start, observed the old man carefully. Ronan's face was filled with a smile, his arms stretched outward, hands open like a palm strike.

The pressure he exuded was powerful—at least, it would be if his opponent were an ordinary person. When Alexander noticed that the old man's attack was aimed at his chest, he remained unfazed.

The spectators, especially Ethan and Jonathan, were ecstatic. Their lives had been spared, and they could see that Master Ronan was closing in.

Meanwhile, the kid who had nearly made them pee their pants appeared to be frozen in fear.

Benjamin and Shanks watched the unfolding scene without so much as a blink, their gazes fixed on the impending clash.

Valentine, noticing that Alexander wasn't dodging at all, panicked. "Alexander, hurry up and defend yourself!" she exclaimed.

On the side, Ronaldo observed the scene calmly, his eyes fixated on the boy named Alexander.

When the old man was just five feet away, Alexander lazily stretched out his arm and countered with a palm strike of his own.

Viper Ronan, seeing his response, narrowed his eyes in mockery. Scoffing at the attempt, he refused to back down, fully committing to the strike.

While his attack carried both ferocity and skill, Alexander merely stretched out his arm lazily, as if mocking him.

"You'll regret this!" the old man roared as their fists collided.

A shockwave rippled outward from the impact, sending a gust of air through the surroundings. The force of their strikes produced a loud, resounding slap.

For a few moments, they were locked in a stalemate. Viper Ronan held his ground, his expression turning serious as his eyes burned red with intensity.

Then, suddenly, blood trickled from his mouth. Moments later, he coughed up a mouthful of blood, his body trembling as the force of the strike finally took effect. The impact sent him hurtling backward until he crashed into a concrete wall with a thunderous impact.

His arm, which he had thrown forward with full force, felt as if it had struck solid metal, making him grit his teeth in pain. Though his bones hadn't broken, the overwhelming power he had just endured left his hand trembling uncontrollably.

Still stuck against the wall, Viper Ronan pushed himself off the concrete, forcing his body to drop down and land on both feet.

Raising a hand, he wiped the blood from his lips. He didn't utter a word—his focus was now entirely locked onto Alexander.

He had underestimated the kid in front of him. His strength seemed to be on par with the man he had just fought—or perhaps "on par" wasn't the right word.

From their brief exchange, it was clear that this boy was even stronger. Viper Ronan's face turned solemn.

Alexander raised an eyebrow as he observed the old man. "If you won't come, I will," he said in a calm voice.

With his hands casually tucked into his pockets, he took a step forward—and in that instant, his figure vanished.

Viper Ronan's eyes trembled as he scanned his surroundings, his wariness at its peak. "Don't tell me… he's at my back—" he exclaimed, swiftly turning his head.

But before he could react further, a shadowy figure materialized right in front of him, forcing him to snap his gaze forward once more.

"Where are you looking?" Alexander said, still in a relaxed manner as he delivered a sweeping kick from the side.

Viper Ronan, relying on his quick reflexes, barely managed to raise his arm in time to block the attack.

However, the sheer force of the blow sent him flying sideways, staggering as he struggled to regain his footing.

A sharp numbness spread through his right arm, making his face pale. He glared at Alexander with murderous intent, his expression twisted with frustration.

Slapping the ground with force, he left a deep handprint in the cement. The impact propelled his body upward, allowing him to stand tall once more.

"Is this kid a monster?" Viper Ronan exclaimed in shock. This was the first time he had ever been beaten so one-sidedly.

"Kid, I really underestimated you. If given a few more years, I can only imagine the heights you would reach with such talent. But from this moment on, I will put an end to that!" Viper Ronin said menacingly, his eyes turning an eerie green.

He shifted into a stance as his entire aura took a drastic turn—thick and venomous. A sinister green light radiated from his hands.

"This move is my hidden technique. If I'm pushed into a corner, this is my only choice. Be honored for you will be the third person to die by my hands using this technique!" Viper Ronin declared with vigor.

"Oh? If it's a hidden technique, you should've kept it hidden—because it won't change the outcome," Alexander responded indifferently, his tone filled with utter disregard.

He didn't even consider his opponent worth taking seriously.

Viper Ronin flared up in anger and charged straight at Alexander. But just before reaching him, he kicked the ground, launching himself into the air.

Spinning rapidly, he extended both hands upward, radiating a venomous aura.

"Venom Wave!" the old man roared as he closed in on Alexander, his eyes filled with madness while he spun like a whirlwind.

Alexander, unfazed, simply took a step forward and delivered a hammering blow.

Viper Ronin's eyes widened in shock—his spinning attack had been effortlessly dodged. In that moment, he caught sight of Alexander at his side, his seemingly ordinary fist barreling toward his face.

Bang!
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The force of that deceptively simple punch struck his cheek with crushing power, instantly halting his momentum.

His vision blurred, his eyes rolling white as Alexander exerted even more force, sending him hurtling down toward the ground.

The old man's body hit the ground with such force that cracks spread across the surface. His body even bounced slightly, like a pillow tossed onto the floor, before settling motionless.

Viper Ronin wasn't dead—Alexander could still hear his heavy breathing. He was merely unconscious, so it was fine. Even if he had died, it wouldn't have mattered to him.

Sliding his hands back into his pockets, Alexander shifted his gaze toward the martial artist standing in the corner, his expression calm and unreadable.

The spectators watching the scene were gripped with fear. Ethan and Jonathan felt their scalps go numb as they processed how easily Alexander had defeated the old master.

But unlike them, Shanks and Benjamin had a different reaction. The light in Benjamin's eyes grew even brighter—because now, they had a chance to survive.

Shanks was in awe. Even though he could defeat the old man, it wouldn't have been this one-sided. If he used his own techniques, he might achieve a similar result—probably.

But in reality, he knew he couldn't do what this kid had just done. Alexander's attacks seemed to lack any discernible technique, yet their sheer power was overwhelming.

Valentine, still processing what had happened, felt as if she were in a dream. Was her employee actually this godly?

"Why does he even work at a restaurant? If he's this strong, he could just apply to be a bodyguard or take on other power-related jobs," she thought inwardly, her gaze filled with curiosity as she studied Alexander.

"It's your turn," Alexander spoke in a low voice, yet Ronaldo heard him clearly.

The martial artist had remained silent up until now, but upon being called out, he responded with a bright smile—completely unfazed by the battle that had just unfolded.

He had confidence in his own strength, and given his opponent's younger age, he believed he held the advantage.

"You are strong, but you're still young. Arrogance at your age is normal, but knowing when to restrain it is what matters," Ronaldo said, his expression shifting as his gaze turned icy cold.

In an instant, he unleashed a powerful pressure that blanketed the entire area.

Jonathan, Ethan, Valentine, Benjamin, and Shanks all felt the overwhelming force pressing down on them—it was as if a heavy car had been placed on their backs, making their breathing labored.

Ronaldo's eyes gleamed when he noticed that Alexander remained completely unaffected.

But Alexander, seeing Valentine sweating and the others struggling to breathe, calmly took one hand out of his pocket.

With a simple flick of his finger, a wave of power surged forward, instantly neutralizing the oppressive force Ronaldo had released.

"Are there any more tricks?" Alexander asked in a carefree tone.

Hearing this, Ronaldo's expression twisted in fury. A devilish smile spread across his face as he replied in a cold, shrill voice.

"Yes."

With that, he pounced at Alexander, his fist glowing brightly.