It wasn’t easy to get Mr. Thornton to come, but with one phone call from Quentin, the hospital president rushed over!
He could use his connections to arrange a private room for Emery…
But now, the president had arranged the intensive care unit!
It was like a slap in Eric’s face.
“I really don’t get it, what’s there to show off? You’re just a short-sighted fool,” Quentin shook his head, his tone dripping with disdain.
“Mr. Spencer, we’ll take our leave for now,” Emery said.
It nearly made Eric’s blood boil!
Emery couldn’t care less at this point, his own life was at stake after all!
After Quentin and his entourage left, Eric remained dazed in place.
Being humiliated in front of Quentin time and time again was driving him insane.
This guy was just too insufferable!
Why him!
“Damn it, no matter what, I must get Charlotte!” He clenched his fists suddenly…
After settling Emery and the others, Quentin made an excuse and left.
Once in the car, Quentin’s expression turned cold again. “How did it go? Is everything arranged? Information on those guys.”
“Yeah, I’ve had someone look into it. That guy’s name is Zaire Wright, a local big shot.”
“Although not as powerful as the underground four lords in Stresall, he’s not to be underestimated.”
“He’s got about a hundred and eighty men under him, all street thugs. Just yesterday, Zaire had a brief encounter with Maverick and Nikolas…”
After listening, Quentin rubbed his chin. “Let’s go meet him.”
Inside a large abandoned factory, a strange mix of smells-smoke, alcohol, and various other odors-filled the air.
Around a hundred men were gathered, smoking, drinking, and gambling, the air filled with occasional curses. It was chaotic…
Quentin stopped in front of the abandoned factory, wrinkling his nose, then stepped inside.
As this unexpected guest arrived, many looked up to him.
“Hey! What are you two doing here? Who are you!”
“This is Zaire’s territory. If you dare intrude, you won’t leave here alive. How dare you…!”
“That girl looks pretty good-”
The men stood up, laughing loudly with fierce and sinister looks, glaring fiercely at Quentin and his companion.
“Where’s Zaire?” Quentin’s tone turned cold.
“You damn dog, who the hell are you? You don’t even give your name and yet want to see our boss? Dream on!”
“Get him, boys!”
Several young thugs picked up bricks and brandished their weapons, charging at Quentin and his companion…
Quentin snapped one man’s arm, sent him flying with a punch, then stomped on two other men as he walked past…
His domineering posture made those hooligans freeze in place!
“I’ll ask one last time, where’s Zaire?” His cold voice sent a chill down everyone’s spine…
But quickly, a surge of anger followed!
“Damn! What the heck!”
“Buddies… get him!”
In an instant, everyone stood up, staring daggers at Quentin and his companion, like wolves eyeing their prey.
Clapping sounded, and Zaire appeared from above. “Very good. For the first time, someone dares to intrude into my territory…”
“Brat, if you can walk out of this door in one piece today, you win!”
Zaire looked down at Quentin, his tone playful and mocking, then gestured, “Go on, teach him a good lesson…”
One after another, figures wielding knives and batons rushed forward, their weapons whistling through the air…
“It’s been a while since I stretched my muscles. I’ll have a good time with you today.”
Quentin stood still, then with a sudden swing of his arm, a figure flew out, knocking down a group behind him!
As Quentin took step after step, it was like a dragon entering a flock of sheep, sweeping through and leaving a trail of screams echoing in the abandoned factory…