My beautiful boss novel Chapter 33

In seven or eight seconds, about six or seven young people were knocked down, shocking everyone in the room.

They were totally stunned. It seemed that they did not expect Peter to be so fierce.

But after a short period of stupor, instead of fear, anger arose.

Alfred was looking at all thirty of his hired thugs. If they could not beat Peter up, how could they follow Alfred's instructions? How could they ask him for money?

"Brothers, get up and beat the shit out of him! The one who would succeed will be rewarded with a million bucks in cash!"

The young men all howled and screamed like wolves excited to get down on their prey, and once again, their eyes turned red, blood rushing to their faces.

"Come on, squirts, let me see what you guys have!" Peter shouted at these young people with scorn, and all of them rushed toward him even more crazily.

In an instant, he darted toward one of the young men, gritted his teeth, screamed, and smashed the stick in the young man's hand.

The young man looked at the broken stick in front of him, and his head overflowed with cold sweat. He was about to dodge the hit, but Peter's speed was too fast that he had no chance at all.

With a loud bang, the young man's head was directly hit, and a shower of blood splashed out of his forehead. Then, he fell down to the ground with a soft plop.

"Weren't you just so confident? That's all it takes?" Peter sneered and stretched out his leg.

The young man was kicked away like a sandbag and fell to the front desk, crushing it in half.

Peter no longer paid attention to the young man, but he waved the stick and rushed to the other people, instead.

Bam! One of young men was kicked.

Boom! Another young man was knocked down.

In a few seconds, the young men scrambled toward Peter like packs of wolves, but they all ended up falling to the ground like dead flies.

So far, nearly thirty thugs had been beaten to the ground.

The manager looked at the scene from afar. His legs were like jelly, his face was getting redder and redder, and his eyes were full of rage.

Peter flashed his brilliant white teeth. "These shrimps have been taken cared of. Now, can you call Alfred Gao down?"

"No way! If you dare, go to the third floor and look for him yourself." The manager stomped out and sneaked out using the back door, disappearing without a trace.

"Fuck." Peter was a little upset. Alfred was such an arrogant bastard. Without hesitation, he went straight to the third floor.

Since Alfred dared not come down, Peter decided to go up and confront him, instead.

Peter went to the third floor, but it wasn't easy. Everywhere he passed, it seemed like trouble was waiting for him.

The whole hall on the first floor had become a mess of murmurs — unconscious bodies, and broken furniture. It was a horrible sight to see.

Peter soon got to the second floor, but at the stairs on the second floor there stood more than twenty strong, young men waiting for him.

More than twenty people, actually. Obviously, the amount of men here seemed more than those guys on the first floor, and each of them had a sharp machete in his hand.

It seemed that Alfred was not a fool. He had this all planned, sorted, and calculated. And it was smart of him to do so.

"Who are you? Tell me your name."

Just as Peter cursed under his breath, a young man asked aloud.

Peter laughed. Was he stupid? Peter had been fighting for a few hours on the first floor, and they still didn't know who he was.

Peter didn't mean to answer it at all. He raised his stick and smashed it down to the ground, creating a loud sound that echoed through the hall.

"Bring it on!"