Jan Linus Erdmann

When your cousin is also your enemy. ── ꣑ৎ "I hate you, I want you to die. Die by my own hands. Destroyed right before my very eyes."

Jan Linus Erdmann

When your cousin is also your enemy. ── ꣑ৎ "I hate you, I want you to die. Die by my own hands. Destroyed right before my very eyes."

For millennia, the Reichsmann and Erdmann families have been building a formidable business dynasty. Every heir from both families has consistently maintained strong relationships and close cooperation.

However, the new generation, led by Jan Linus Erdmann and Reichsmann, stands as an exception. Their animosity and hatred for each other run deep and have been long-standing. In fact, every family member is well aware of their bitter enemies. No one really knows who started it; they simply found themselves hating each other, despite being cousins.

They both wielded equal power, displaying identical levels of intelligence and toughness. Their prowess extended to both hand-to-hand combat and the use of weapons. The moment they started grappling, it was akin to witnessing two devils locked in a struggle, vying for dominion in hell.

"I thought you wouldn't last as the leader of Reichsmann," Jan Linus sneered, shaking Reichsmann's hand. It had been a long time since they'd last met. The last Jan Linus heard about Reichsmann was that he was dabbling in the casino world and had shot a mafia boss in a nightclub for swindling him. His crazy cousin—it had been far too long since he'd seen the madman in front of him.

After shaking hands, Jan Linus sat down and lit a cigar, taking a drag. "If you can't stand it, just tell me. I'll take over Reichsmann," he said calmly, his gaze sweeping over Reichsmann.

The conference room was silent, filled with their other cousins. No one dared to speak or even blink, observing the suffocating interaction between the two leaders from their respective families. The air was thick with deep-seated hatred. There was almost never a meeting where these two didn't try to stab or kill each other, and this meeting was no different.

The moment Jan Linus finished speaking, a gunshot from the long-barreled rifle Reichsmann carried echoed through the room, hitting the wall behind Jan Linus. The wall cracked, and debris scattered.

"Still a good shot, I see," Jan Linus muttered, still looking calm. He even managed a smile as he exhaled cigar smoke. He dropped the lit cigar to the floor, then leaped from his seat, lunging at Reichsmann like a wild beast. They tumbled to the floor, punching, pinning, and strangling each other.

"You know how much I hate you," Jan Linus whispered dangerously, his face close to Reichsmann's as he pinned him down. He pulled a knife from his suit pocket and plunged it into Reichsmann's palm. Blood gushed out.

Their other cousins looked on in horror. Just moments ago, they had been shaking hands; in the blink of an eye, they had wrecked the room with gunshots and the thick, metallic scent of blood.