Marvel: The Sorcerer in America

Moreover, Ethan had long been suffering from a fatal illness that was slowly ravaging his body. His face now appeared older, with tired lines reflecting his struggles. His worn-out appearance and relaxed attitude made him an easy target for mockery.

The man who had mocked Ethan as a coachman now laughed louder. "I thought this guy was just a loser," he said sarcastically, "but I'm surprised he's with some useless-looking Asian guy."

Lance merely curled his lips, choosing not to respond. He wouldn't degrade himself by getting provoked over a few silly taunts.

Ethan, on the other hand, continued to smile, as if unaffected by the mockery. His face now radiated calmness, which only made the two men more uncomfortable.

One of them, perhaps bored by the lack of reaction from Ethan and Lance, finally asked, "You know, this is a luxury car rental company, right?"

"Of course," Ethan replied lightly.

"How do you know about this place?" asked the other man, still full of suspicion.

"Introduced by someone named Albino," Ethan answered casually, maintaining the smile on his face.

The two men exchanged glances, and their expressions quickly changed. "So, Albino also mentioned that we provide luxury cars for... secretive matters?"

Ethan shrugged and added with a slightly sarcastic tone, "Albino actually told us not to talk to the subordinates, but to go straight to the boss."

Although said with a smile, the sentence struck like a dagger. The expressions of the two men darkened. One of them growled, "We're not subordinates! We're the vice presidents of the marketing department!"

Ethan continued to smile, his eyes now gleaming with subtle satisfaction. "To me," Ethan said flatly, "you're nothing more than trash."

"What did you say!" one of the men yelled angrily, while the other added in a sharper tone, "Listen, asshole! You're nobody to us! You'll never meet our boss, got it?"

Despite holding the title of vice president, the two men couldn't hide their rough personalities and violent origins.

Ethan raised his hand, pretending to touch his forehead with a regretful expression. "Ah, sorry, sorry," Ethan said with a tone that sounded sincere but was full of irony. "I haven't been able to sleep well these past few nights. Jet lag, you know? It's making me a little unfocused. My bad. How about we start over?"

Ethan's relaxed and sarcastic tone made the atmosphere even more tense.

Ethan continued speaking casually, as if rambling without direction. But in one swift and calm movement, Ethan quickly drew his pistol from his waist and fired two shots at the two men.

The sound of the silenced gunshots filled the room. Both men staggered, their bodies quickly collapsing to the floor.

Ethan looked at them with a flat expression. "Don't worry, I didn't kill them," he said, reholstering his pistol. "The bullets were just anesthetics. They won't die, but they'll wake up with a pretty bad headache."

Lance, who had watched the whole action without blinking, merely sighed. "I thought you'd wait until we knew where Mitat Yilmaz was before taking action."

Ethan shrugged, kicking one of the men's bodies, moving him from the chair. He then comfortably sat down in the chair. "What's the difference? Mitat will come here sooner or later. We just need to wait for him."

"Fine," Lance replied, though there was a slight skeptical tone in his voice. He then turned around and sat in the main chair, his gaze fixed on the closed door.

On the table in front of Ethan, there was a picture frame. Ethan picked it up and studied the image carefully. The photo showed two young twin girls, around fifteen or sixteen years old, with bright, innocent smiles.

Ethan sighed deeply, his voice softening. "They must be Mitat Yilmaz's daughters."

Lance glanced at Ethan, raising an eyebrow. "Are you planning to threaten Mitat with his daughters?"

Ethan rubbed his forehead, his eyes still locked on the photo with a thoughtful expression. "No. I also have a beautiful teenage daughter. I know what it feels like to be a father. I won't use his children as leverage to force him."

Lance snorted lightly, leaning back in his chair. "Whatever. As long as you can get information on that accountant, I don't care how you do it."

"Thanks." Ethan's expression softened even more, and after snapping his fingers for a moment, he suddenly said, "I'm not good at balancing work and family. For years, I've worked overseas and rarely kept in touch with my daughter. Now I want to make up for it. But... the results, well, not very satisfying. Mr. White, as a young man, you probably understand the ideas of the younger generation better than I do, right?"

"Just call me Lance." Lance stretched out his hands, smiling as he said, "Although I'm still young, I'm seven or eight years older than your daughter. The difference isn't much different from the age gap between us. So if you're asking me, maybe you're looking at the wrong person. But, judging from this photo, it seems like this man has a good relationship with his daughter. Maybe after you're done with your work, you can ask Mitat about the role of a father."

Ethan gave a slight smile. "What you say does make sense."

At that moment, the door opened.

...

...

...

Unlike the two ruthless sales vice presidents, Mitat Yilmaz was a chubby man with an unexpected sense of humor.

Seeing the two people sitting at the desk, especially Lance who was lounging behind it, the Mediterranean man looked displeased. Mitat glanced at the man behind him who had opened the door and asked, his tone beginning to show irritation, "Who are they?"

A few security officers dressed in all black looked a bit confused. The person in charge quickly answered, "Uh... they said someone introduced them to rent a car."

Mitat stared at them with an increasingly frustrated expression, then glared at Lance and the man in front of him. "It's extremely rude to sit behind my desk without an invitation. Who the hell are you? And John and Bryce—where are those bastards?"

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