?Chapter 1155:


    Just in the nick of time, Austen leaned back, and the punch barely missed him.


    Even so, the force behind that single strike sent a cold shiver racing down his spine.


    Only then did it dawn on Austen that he had been wrong — the stranger must be another one of Maia’s people.


    Without hesitation, he stepped back and crouched low, his hand reaching for the dagger strapped to his calf.


    The de he pulled free measured about twelve inches, and its metallic edge gleamed menacingly in the dim light.


    Holding the weapon in a reverse grip, Austen prepared himself to sh across the throat of his foe as soon as the next opening appeared.


    But at that precise moment, the enemy froze and refused to move forward.


    “Come on then, bastard!” Austen said, his voice sharp as he tried to lure the opponent into making a mistake.


    Right after he spoke, the sunlight shifted angles.


    The sudden glow spilled into the alley, and atst, Austen saw the stranger’s face in full.


    Before him was a striking face, marked by a proud nose and sharp, sculpted lines.


    Recognition struck instantly — it was Maia’s personal bodyguard. The man carried the same surname, Cooper.


    Raegan had once spoken of him, identifying him as Chris Cooper. Her words echoed in Austen’s memory, describing Chris as nothing more than an illegitimate son of the Cooper family, dismissed as useless.


    Austen believed that if not for his briefpse in readiness, this so-called failure would never have had the chance to corner him.


    “I know exactly who you are,” Austen said coldly. “Unfortunately for you, you won’t live long enough to learn who kills you.”


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    Lowering his stance, he suddenly sprang forward, his movements swift and predatory, like a leopard on the hunt. The dagger shed in his grip, savage as a beast’s w, shing straight for Chris’ throat.


    The oue seemed already written in Austen’s mind — Chris would grasp his throat in shock, copse to his knees, and spill blood across the ground like a broken fountain.


    Instead, the next instant shattered that vision, for Chris vanished from sight altogether.


    By the time Austen registered what had happened, a forceful punchnded on his ribs, causing him to groan and fall in pain. He sprawled on the ground with the dagger still in his grip. A crushing weight mmed down on his right hand, and pain forced his fingers open, sending the weapon ttering away.


    “Why are you tailing Maia?” Chris’ voice rang with coldmand. “And tell me, who sent you?”


    Shock spread across Austen’s face.


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