Chapter 38: Punishing the Dog: David

A dog’s primary weapons are its teeth and claws.

Pounce and bite, scratch and tear.

Once it latches onto a vital spot, it clamps down without letting go until it shatters the opponent’s bones or drains them dry of blood!

Of course, right now they’re not yet at that level—they’re too young.

Even so, they’re extremely ferocious.

“Wang wang wang wang!!!”

“Wang wang wang!!”

Puch!

A series of blood trails, exposed flesh, dog hair…

Splattered across the ground.

The other dogs nearby continued barking incessantly, as if cheering, or goading—some even seemed eager to join in, ready to fight to the death.

The Rottweiler is taller and more aggressive, but the Pit Bull is truly fearless, as if devoid of pain, bordering on insane.

So even though the Rottweiler’s combat power is currently higher, their injury levels are roughly equal.

Until the Rottweiler went berserk and suddenly clamped its jaws onto the Pit Bull’s lower neck.

Louis blew gently.

A tongue of fire shot out violently, separating the two dogs.

Even so, the bloodshot Pit Bull still lunged forward in a frenzy, its white fangs dripping blood, utterly reckless, lost to reason.

“Hmph!”

The fire tongue whipped around, opened its fangs, and swallowed the dog whole.

In moments, it screamed like Sun Wukong trapped in the Eight Trigram Furnace, “Wang wang wang wang!”

“Aow aow aow~”

Twenty seconds later, the fire vanished completely.

Pachi!

A smoldering, nearly hairless “black dog” lay limp on the ground.

At that moment, all the watching dogs showed fear in their eyes, whimpering and not daring to act.

Fear of fire is instinct!

Louis stroked the fluffy little yellow dog in his arms, then coldly tossed the sliced raw beef to the Rottweiler.

The Rottweiler wagged its tail in delight, nuzzling Louis’s leg affectionately, then tore into the beef with huge bites, occasionally glancing at the envious companions too afraid to approach, growling low threats, its eyes full of savage ferocity.

This is how you forge their ferocity, combat skills, and obedience—obedience being the most important.

Any dog that disobeys must be punished; if it persists, kill it outright!

No exceptions.

Otherwise, it’s not a dog—it’s a wolf!

Louis nodded, then turned to the Pit Bull still lying on the ground, picked it up, and handed it to the bodyguard, who expertly began gathering supplies for treatment, though he couldn’t help stealing a glance.

He caught a glimpse of the bloodstains on the floor, and his brow twitched.

Honestly, this young master’s methods were strange and terrifying, reminding him of some horrific rumors he’d heard back in Italy.

He had reported all these anomalies upward, but received only one reply: “Just follow orders.”

There was nothing he could do. As a elite member of the family’s combat unit, his loyalty was guaranteed; since the family had given the order, he would obey.

…

Back in the warehouse, Louis rubbed his temples, staring at the litter of puppy dogs still in infancy.

Two months now—he’d been raising dogs for two months, and it had been fascinating, especially since the formal dogfighting began. He recorded each dog’s combat power, fighting habits, and will to fight; every match was captivating.

It was probably just like how he loved watching dogfights as a child.

But now he had to consider one question: should he enter all three dog arts, or is mastering just one enough to unlock the next inheritance page?

Right now, fire art was already proficient, concealment art was mastered—only dog art remained.

But even the most basic pack-dog art takes a long time to form; if he had to train all three, it would be an endless wait.

Especially the purebred Five Black Dogs—they were truly rare and hard to obtain.

“I hope one is enough.”

After finishing the final round of dogfights and feeding the victors beef, Louis herded them back into their cages, took the little yellow dog, and left the rear warehouse, returning home.

The sound of the door startled a small figure; she quietly watched Louis, then dialed a call.

And so.

Shortly after arriving home, David—who should have been at work—suddenly appeared from nowhere.

He looked at Louis seriously, “Hey, Louis, you need to advance your education. I spoke with your grandfather—you’re a genius; you can’t waste time in lower grades.”

“...I’ve also considered your schooling. Your grandfather asked me to find a good middle school here. I’m not sure what he meant, but I think it’s a good thing...”

“...”

“...Finally, I don’t know what you’ve been doing these past two months, but real life outside matters too. I hope you’ll take it seriously, okay?”

Facing David’s lecture, Louis—who had once been an adult himself—nodded obediently and agreed wholeheartedly.

As for how David knew he was back—hah, who else could it be?

Louis glanced at the corner; Emma immediately pulled her head back from the door crack.

“By the way, David and I are getting married next month. Don’t you dare run off then.”

?

Are they getting married?

But why? Why do I have a bad feeling about this?

Louis smiled, “Congratulations. I hope you’re happy.”

David smiled back, “Thank you for your blessing.”

At that moment, Louis suddenly pulled out a thumb-sized statue strung with a red cord, “Uncle David, this is for you. Please give it to Aunt Jenny—it’s my gift.”

David chuckled. He already had one—two months ago, Louis had given one each to him and Emma, but not to Yulencar or Jenny. He knew what it meant, but he respected Louis’s choice.

Now, since he and Jenny were getting married, Louis was giving this gift—it was, perhaps, a form of approval?

“Alright, get cleaned up. I brought you some KFC. Eat it while it’s hot.”

Saying that, he rushed out—he had a big deal in Texas to close.

Although Louis’s grandfather had given him a card, David had no intention of using that money. In his words, though he couldn’t be Louis’s father, he could at least be an uncle; unless absolutely necessary, he wouldn’t spend the child’s money.

Watching David rush out, Louis shook his head. Even someone like David—a top-tier middle-class man with two small factories—had to be busy just to get by.

But what did his grandfather mean by “a good middle school”?

Was the Mexican drug cartel there really that troublesome? Or was there another reason?

Louis frowned.

After a long while, he gave up thinking. Right now, he was powerless—better not meddle too much.

Next, keep raising dogs!

(End of Chapter)