Maguire was still lost in the rhythm of his graceful dance moves when a towering figure—easily over two meters tall—started walking toward him.
The blondes around him were shoved aside by the massive man.
Seeing who it was, the women's faces turned pale with fear—clearly, this man's presence was enough to intimidate them.
The next moment, Maguire felt a "wall" appear in front of him.
Looking up, he saw a fierce-looking bearded brute glaring down at him. Maguire's face twisted with annoyance.
The man's deep, rumbling voice came.
"Kid, my boss wants to see you. Come with me."
But Maguire was too absorbed in the joy of dancing to bother with a small fry like this.
In his good mood, he decided to spare the man's life.
Unfortunately, the bearded brute clearly didn't appreciate the value of being alive.
Seeing Maguire ignore him entirely, his face darkened in anger.
His massive hands shot forward, reaching for Maguire.
Maguire sighed inwardly.
"The world is so beautiful—why do people insist on making poor choices?"
"Why pick a fight with me? Is being alive not good enough?"
He was just about to give this small fry a thorough lesson in the value of life when—
A striking figure suddenly stepped between them.
It was the red-haired woman who had been standing in the corner earlier.
Without a word, she grabbed the brute's fingers—
*Crack!*
The sharp sound cut through the music.
A look of agony twisted the man's face, and he let out a loud scream as his fingers snapped.
Maguire stared at the woman, a hint of recognition flashing in his eyes.
"Why does she look so familiar?"
There was no denying it—her figure and beauty were second to none.
The brute now eyed her warily. Despite his size, he wasn't stupid—anyone who could snap his fingers so effortlessly was not someone to mess with.
He quickly backed away and returned to the blond man's booth.
Maguire, meanwhile, looked at the stunning woman before him with a mysterious smile. He already knew who she was—he just wondered why she was here.
The red-haired woman gave him an appreciative look.
"Not bad—you dance well."
Maguire smiled.
"Care to share a dance?"
Her lips curled into an enchanting smile as she slowly extended her hand.
The music rose again.
Their steps matched perfectly, their movements a flawless blend of elegance and flair—like flowing water and harmonious strings.
…
At the blond man's booth, the bearded thug whispered a few words to his boss.
The man's face twisted even further, his eyes now filled with murderous intent as he looked toward Maguire and the woman.
…
Maguire, still immersed in the dance, thought to himself,
"Didn't expect her to dance this well… she really lives up to her title as the Avengers' top socialite."
When the music ended, they stepped apart.
"You're the best male dancer I've ever seen," she said.
"Likewise," Maguire replied politely.
She then reached to an *indescribable* location and pulled out a small slip of paper—a phone number.
Maguire took it without hesitation.
Suddenly, her eyes narrowed—she seemed to have spotted a target. Without another word, she turned and walked away.
Maguire also decided it was time to leave, heading for the exit.
Seeing him leave, the blonde women panicked, quickly throwing caution aside and hinting at their desire for some *after-hours tutoring*.
Unfortunately for them, Maguire's grades were terrible—and a failing student clearly wasn't qualified to tutor anyone.
Ignoring their longing stares, he strutted toward the door.
The blond man from earlier, along with his crew, stood and followed.
From the second floor, a few men in black suits exchanged glances and also moved to follow.
…
Before long, Maguire reached the entrance.
The valet spotted him and rushed to fetch the Bentley.
But then—
"Hey, kid in front—you think you're hot stuff, huh?"
The voice came from behind him.
Maguire's face showed nothing but disdain.
"Why is it always small fries without even a spider-sense blip that come looking for trouble?"
…
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