"Dexter Grimshaw!" Timothy shouted.

Timothy's eyes flashed with intense focus as he suddenly turned toward a large boulder. Sure enough, a figure now stood atop it.

It was a short, middle-aged man with dark, withered skin whose appearance could make one's stomach turn. His beady eyes radiated a bone-chilling gleam. Even without looking, Timothy would have recognized the Jack of Hearts from Thirteen Aces by his voice alone.

"So you've shown up with your elite squad. It seems someone really did sell me out! Never mind, it actually helps clear up some questions I had," Dexter mocked.

Timothy's presence was overwhelming as he sneered. "Heh! You're quite composed. Have you accepted your inevitable death and come to beg for mercy?"

Dexter's eyes narrowed, rage flickering within. "Did you think I'll still get beaten up by you like before? If I'm showing myself, you're not leaving here alive!"

Timothy showed no fear. He hadn't ascended to the rank of Martial Saint and became one of t