Chapter 487
When it was time, he would invite his uncle to appear, and he would make this young man kneel down and beg for mercy.
“Why aren’t you saying anything, Mr. Camp? You’re not thinking about hitting me, are you, Mr. Camp?”
“You can’t beat me verbally or physically. Where do you find the courage to be arrogant in front of me?”
Nash laughed brilliantly.
He loved it when people wanted to hit him but did not have the guts to do it.
Clarke stared angrily with his fists clenched tightly., His face turned as red as a gas tank about to explode.
The angrier he got, the happier Nash felt.
He suddenly realized that using his mouth was more fun than using
his fists.
Of course, mouthing off was only possible when backed by absolute
strength.
Without strength, all you would get was a beating anyway.
Clarke sneered in his fury. “Very well… I hope you can still laugh in three days!”
His uncle was currently on a business trip abroad and would not be
back for about half a month.
Originally, he had planned to cause trouble for this brat in half a month, but now, he could not wait any longer.
He decided to call his uncle as soon as he got back.
“I’m ready anytime!”
Nash’s lips curled into a wicked smile.
Then, he drove away from Baroque.
Clarke took a deep breath. His face was dark as he walked to his own
car.
Meanwhile, Nash received a call from Yasmin as soon as he left Baroque.
“Yasmin?”
“Nash… There’s a bit of trouble at the company… Can you come over?” Yasmin said tremblingly.
“Where are Queenie and Sydney?” Nash asked with a frown.
“They have exams today, so their phones are switched off!”
“Alright, I’ll be right over!”
Nash hung up the phone and floored the accelerator, causing the
engine to roar like a beast.
At the Long Lake Industrial Zone, there was a change from its usual
tranquility.
Eight vans were parked at the entrance of the industrial zone.
The security, Old Holt, had been beaten black and blue.
Three middle-aged men had him pinned to the ground.
More than 20 young men blocked the entrance, and their presence was intimidating.
“You bunch of punks, if you’ve got the guts, fight me one-on-one!
“Bullying an old man like me and ganging up on me, what does this make you people?!”
Old Holt’s words were slurred.
He had the strength of a grandmaster.
Dealing with these hooligans would not have been a problem, even if
there were 20 of them.
However, the other party had brought three grandmasters with them.
“Tsk…”
A tall and burly man spat out a mouthful of blood and muttered, “The
old man still has some skills…”
He then took out a dagger from behind, saying, “If I don’t make you
bleed today, you won’t know how to behave yourself!”
He had been with Black Tiger for over ten years and had never
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