Chapter 485: Michael is fuming

"A load of bullshit?" Harry asked incredulously. "You clearly don’t know the real value of this automobile."

Uncle Jack walked forward and knocked on the automobile, as if testing its durability. "Hmph...this thing is clearly not practical. It’s made out of metal, so it’ll move way too slow."

Princess Elizabeth scoffed. "You don’t even know what you’re talking about!"

"I don’t have to," Uncle Jack snidely remarked. "I already know that whatever they’re saying that this automobile can do, is nothing but a big fat lie."

"And what makes you say that?" Bart asked defensively, unable to hold on his anger any longer.

"It’s because you are Vanderbilts, that’s why! Everyone knows that your family is on the brink of collapse. Your businesses failed.

Elizabeth, Harry, doesn’t it make you wonder how they were even able to build something like this when they’re struggling to even keep their mansion? There’s no way that they could have funded the research and development needed to create this miraculous automobile that can replace carriages and horses. It just doesn’t make sense!

So the only explanation is that this is a scam—a scam that is specifically meant to target us, the royal family, who have unlimited funding. And I’ve got to give them credit for it. You guys were gullible enough to believe their lies.

Right now, the automobile works just fine. But that’s probably because of some magic that they installed inside.

But when it comes time to sell it to the public, it’s gonna be nothing but dead weight, a scrap of metal. It won’t matter to these Vanderbilts once they get the money to reclaim their lands.

Is this what the legacy of the great Yze Vanderbilt has left? If so, then their reign as the wealthiest family in the world will soon come to an end once he dies off."

At this point, Michael was fuming from the inside. He disparaged not only the name of Vanderbilts, but also the craftsmanship of his automobile.

"Stop it with this nonsense!" Prince Harry growled. "You will not disrespect our guests with your lies."

"What lies?" Uncle Jack laughed. "I spoke nothing but the truth. If you want someone to stop lying, then you should talk to these Vanderbilts!"

Michael cracked his neck. "So, you’re saying that the automobile doesn’t work?"

Jack crossed his hands. "It does work. But with magic. How else could such a heavy weight move?"

"And you say that the Vanderbilts are...on the brink of collapse, that’s the word you used, right?" Michael asked, his voice a timbre lower than his usual tone.

Uncle Jack stood proud. "That’s what I said."

"Care to prove that?"

Michael’s threat was ineffective against someone ignorant like Uncle Jack. "Haha...kid, are you challenging me to a duel? Do you even know what that is?"

"That’s right. A duel. For the honor of my name and my family’s name. I challenge you to a duel."

Immediately, Prince Harry and Princess Elizabeth tried to dissuade Michael from his decision.

"Michael, wait. That’s not such a good idea."

"You don’t have to do this. Don’t get caught up in his words. He’s just trying to provoke you."

And provoke me, he did. And he’ll pay the price.

"What do you say? Do you accept?"

Seeing as Michael was steadfast in his decision, Harry and Elizabeth looked at Michael’s parents so that they could dissuade him from getting in a duel with their Uncle Jack.

However, Bart and Lylia remained silent behind Michael’s side, seemingly giving him permission.

Meanwhile, Max didn’t know if he was going to try and stop Michael, or simply let him have the duel. As a Vanderbilt, he wanted nothing more than to see Jack’s face eating the ground. However, as Michael’s uncle, he didn’t want his precious nephew to get hurt, especially since he was so talented and valuable to their family.

"Brother, should we stop Michael?"

Max looked at his brother and saw him fuming, with smoke almost coming out of his ears.

"Son...I don’t usually ask for much, but this time, I want you to teach that bastard a lesson," Bart said to Michael.

As for Lylia, she just had a few words.

"Michael dear...beat his ass," she said with a smile, but with her eyes narrowing like that of a monster.

"Using my authority as a Prince, I shall stop this duel nonsense. It is inappropriate," Harry declared.

"You’re right about one thing there, nephew. It is inappropriate," said Uncle Jack. "I am a grown man, while the one who wants to duel me is a kid. The power disparity between us is too large.

But...there is a solution to that. If you can beat my personal guard in battle, then I shall accept your duel."

Uncle Jack snapped his finger, and suddenly, an armored man wearing a hoodie appeared kneeling right beside him.

"At your service," the guard muttered, his voice cold and calculated.

"So what do you think, kid? Can you beat him in a duel?"

Harry and Elizabeth gasped when they saw the hooded guard appear. They recognized him as one of the elite rogues that were trained to protect royals like them.

"That’s Python," Harry realized. "He’s part of Uncle Jack’s personal guards. They’re extremely loyal to him, to the point that they are willing to give up their life to serve him."

"Michael, reject the duel. He’s a 6-star assassin!" Elizabeth cautioned.

But all their warnings went unheard. Michael accepted the duel.

"You’re on."

"HAHAHA! You have guts, kid. I’ll give you that. But courage won’t save you from this duel. Python, you know what to do!"

Upon Uncle Jack’s instructions, Python jumped up in the air and landed in front of Michael. The man wore minimal armor, only a chestplate, while the rest were made out of some black material that made it hard to see in the night.

Michael stood tall and looked up at his opponent.

Both fighters stayed silent.

"Come on, kid. Make the first move. It’s the only advantage you’ll have," Uncle Jack mocked.

But instead of lashing out, Michael answered calmly. "If I move first, it’ll be over too soon."

His brash confidence halted Uncle Jack’s laugh. The fact that he was still making these bold claims annoyed him to no end.

"Fine! Your funeral. Python—"

Uncle Jack whistled with his hands. And as soon as Python heard this high-pitched sound, it was as if some kind of switch had turned on inside his brain.

He looked at Michael as if he was his mortal enemy, someone that he must absolutely kill.

Magic circles appeared on Python’s legs, with his calves glowing with a violet hue.

He looked like a coiled snake ready to bite its target.

He twisted his hands, and suddenly, a pair of nunchucks appeared out of nowhere.

After a second, he lunged at Michael at insane speeds. His nunchucks swung a thousand times per second before throwing it down to Michael’s head.

But instead of dodging, Michael stayed in place and let the nunchucks come dangerously close to him.

"Michael, what are you doing?!" Harry shouted.

The nunchucks impacted, creating a loud sound that reverberated through the grassfields.

But strangely enough, the result of the impact wasn’t as they expected. There was no blood nor shouts of pain from Michael.

Uncle Jack’s eyes widened as he saw Michael completely unharmed.

And instead, Python’s nunchucks had completely disintegrated into splinters, with its pieces raining down from the sky.

"What am I doing? I’m letting him have the first shot," Michael answered.