She Became Glamorous After the Engagement Annulment - Part2

Chapter 218: The Quinn School of Martial Arts' Disciples r 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?