From Trash to Treasure: The Sinclair Family's Beloved Genius novel Chapter 502

Chapter 502: Chapter 499: Master Shaw Is Jealous

This was the first time in Wyatt Thorne’s life that he had ever been hit.

His head snapped to the side, a clear red handprint already forming on his left cheek.

He was in a panic, trying to get a clear look at his attacker, when a sudden pain flared on his right side. SLAP! He’d been slapped again.

Wyatt Thorne couldn’t take it anymore. "What the hell is wrong with you!"

The moment Wyatt Thorne cursed, the punks in the alley were stunned.

’Did we get the wrong guy?’ some of them wondered.

Several of them exchanged glances. One of the punks asked in a thuggish tone, "Hey, are you Wyatt Thorne, the campus beau from Emberfall University’s computer science department?"

Only then did Wyatt Thorne get a clear look at the people in front of him.

About a dozen punks were gathered in the dim alley. Their hair was dyed like a set of traffic lights; they might as well have been standing on a corner directing traffic.

He had always looked down on thugs like these, so he kept his mouth shut.

The punk got annoyed and smacked Wyatt Thorne on the back of the head. "I fucking asked you a question! Are you mute?"

Wyatt Thorne, agitated and annoyed, retorted, "I am Wyatt Thorne. What do you want?"

"The one from computer science?"

"What if I am?"

He couldn’t believe these punks could do anything to him in this day and age, a society ruled by law.

In response, the punk’s expression changed instantly. He looked at the guys behind him. "Get him!"

And so, Wyatt Thorne was pinned to the ground and punched several times.

But the punks were afraid Wyatt Thorne would call the police, so they were strategic about it, only hitting him enough to cause pain and teach him a lesson.

Ten-odd minutes later, Wyatt Thorne was curled up on the ground, his clothes a mess.

The punk who had slapped him earlier thought the kid couldn’t take a punch at all. It was kind of boring.

He said, "Damn it, I only hit you a few times and you’re already whimpering. Are you even a man?"

With that, he stomped his foot on Wyatt Thorne’s face.

The overwhelming stench of his foot made Wyatt gag. But when he opened his mouth, the foul smell shot down his throat, making him feel worse than death.

"Let me tell you something. Don’t you ever bother that campus belle from the medical department again. That’s the girl I’ve got my eye on!"

"If there’s a next time, I’ll kill you and stuff you down a manhole!"

After saying his piece, the red-haired punk gathered his crew and swaggered menacingly out of the alley.

Wyatt Thorne’s face was dark as he used the wall to prop himself up.

He knew he had no choice but to swallow this bitter pill.

He didn’t even have a chance to call the police.

Suddenly, his phone chimed with a notification.

Wyatt Thorne opened it, glanced at the message, and his eyes darkened.

He then deleted the message.

​

In a nearby alley, a silver-white car was parked on the side of the road.

The group of punks with garishly colored hair suddenly stopped. The red-haired leader glanced at his underlings, gestured for them to leave, and walked forward alone.

He walked up to the car window, a sycophantic look in his eyes.

A moment later, the window slowly lowered, revealing Zane Jordan to the punk.

"Jordan, I’ve taken care of the matter you assigned me."

Zane Jordan grunted in acknowledgment. He glanced at the punk and said flatly, "Good job. Go get that red hair of yours dyed back. Otherwise, Master Shaw will be displeased."

The red-haired punk hastily agreed.

"If something like this happens again, you don’t need to wait for Wyatt Thorne to come out to beat him up."

The punk’s eyes lit up. "Beat him up on the spot?"

Zane Jordan shot him a look, and the punk immediately understood.

"Don’t worry, Jordan. I’ll make sure to protect Miss Sinclair. I won’t let you or Master Shaw down."

Zane Jordan was quite pleased with this punk. "Go on, then. I recall you have classes to attend."

He added another instruction, "Get that red hair dyed back today. And your buddies, too. Have them all dye their hair a normal color. Don’t be an eyesore to Miss Sinclair."

The punk promised profusely and left without lingering.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify