Immediately, all the blood drained from Thomas' face. Even his subordinates were so scared that they had retreated.
On the other hand, Lily had already fled the scene with her tail tucked between her legs.
“Oh no, we're doomed!” Oliver's cheeks turned deathly pale as all color drained from his face. With a trembling voice, he said, “Jared, this bar falls under Phoenix Regiment's territory. They won't be merciful if they find out that you've stirred such a ruckus here.”
Shortly after, a middle-aged man wearing an eyepatch emerged with a group of guards following at his heels.
The sight of this man scared Oliver so much that his legs gave away, and he collapsed into a nearby chair.
Promptly, a gush of yellow liquid stained his pants.
Oliver's terrified state left Jared utterly speechless. Is he really Walter's grandson?
“O-Orb, he was the one who hit me first!” Thomas stammered as he made his way toward the newcomer. In an attempt to butter him up, Thomas offered him a cigarette.
“Slap him!” Despite that, Orb didn’t even spare Thomas a single glance.
Upon his command, one of the guards grabbed Thomas by the collar and backhanded him across the face.
Repeatedly, the guard slapped Thomas until his face swelled to twice its size.
“Were you the one who hit him?” the middle-aged man asked Jared.
“Yes.” Jared nodded in affirmation.
“Slap him too,” Orb ordered. Immediately, one of his men approached Jared with his arm raised and ready to strike.
Before he could hit Jared, however, Jared caught the guard's wrist. “Aren't you going to clarify the situation first before hitting me?”
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