Chapter 150: Chapter 150: Lord Jing’s Ruthlessness, Qi: If You Don’t Use Your Brain, Donate It
Upon hearing, Wang Xiang’s face twisted with pain, showing disbelief.
He roared, "Master Julian... I’ve already told you, ... why can’t you let me go."
A playful chuckle from Mason Quinn responded, while Julian Sia didn’t spare him a glance.
"You should be grateful, being sent to the police station means you get to live, isn’t that letting you go."
Wang Xiang’s body stiffened, giving a look as if saying ’are you speaking human language’.
Damn it, if you let me go now, I can still live, but getting sent to the police station is just falling from one pit into another.
Besides, would Master Julian be so kind? Sending me to the police station is probably just a different way to torture me.
Charles Jordan released his foot, looking at his blood-stained self, momentarily hesitant, not knowing where to start cleanly.
If I had known, I should have just cut the lower body.
Charles Jordan frowned, dragging Wang Xiang away directly, while everyone could faintly hear his cries of pain.
Jonathan Ziegler watched him leave, his face becoming paler, with unabashed fear in his eyes.
Before Julian Sia could speak, he quivered at his lips and said, "Master Julian, I was wrong."
Upon hearing this.
Julian Sia slowly squatted, in his fearful gaze, grabbing his neck, deep eyes as cold as frost.
"Tell me, what wrong did you do?"
Being choked, Jonathan Ziegler’s face instantly turned red, feeling his breath becoming labored, he couldn’t help but raise his hand trying to remove the man’s hand.
Unexpectedly.
With just a slight movement, he heard the man’s calm voice, "If you don’t want your hand, I can help you."
Just one sentence.
Frightening him to immediately dare not move, "Master... cough... Master Julian... I shouldn’t have... had my mind clouded... can you... please... let go... let go."
Clearly, what could be finished in one breath, turned into broken sentences because of the choke.
The man watched with interest as he struggled, after a while, slowly withdrew his fingers, and methodically wiped them with a handkerchief.
Seeing the hand that choked his neck finally release, Jonathan Ziegler sighed a breath of relief.
A bit of smugness in his eyes, see, Master Julian still considered his status, unlike that fool Wang Xiang, who ended up half dead and sent to the police station.
But in the next second, his body flipped backwards and fell directly to the ground, without even a moment to regain his senses, the man’s foot severely kicked him again.
Then Julian Sia placed a foot on his hand, casually speaking, "Was it this hand that held her then?"
What?
Before Jonathan Ziegler could understand the meaning, pain immediately swept through his body.
"Ah, my hand."
When they say the ten fingers are connected to the heart, Will Ziegler now was sweating profusely, lips trembling as he looked at the foot on his hand.
"Apparently not this hand, then let’s switch."
Julian Sia’s nonchalant voice seemed to be talking about the pleasant weather today.
In the next second.
Jonathan Ziegler’s other hand also suffered the crushing pressure, he looked at the calm man and wished he could faint right away.
"Tsk, seeing the strength Master Julian used, he’s afraid those hands might be useless." Mason Quinn commented with a sigh.
"Mere disablement of both hands might not be enough, but until now Master Julian hasn’t used his full force on him, I guess he’s waiting for Master Green to handle it." George Xyler analyzed calmly, stroking his chin.
Mason Quinn heard this with piqued curiosity, "Wow, if Master Green really handles him, he’s going to find it hard to stay alive."
The conversation did not avoid Jonathan Ziegler, and upon hearing it, he momentarily forgot the pain in his hand, his mind filled with the image of Master Green holding a gun.
...
"Sister Olivia, where are we going?"
John Sinclair, looking at the girl beside him, asked out of curiosity.
Claire Green, masked, her delicate brows and eyes revealed laziness, she replied nonchalantly, "Andrew James’s office building."
With the answer, John Sinclair and the others no longer asked anything and quietly followed the girl to the foot of a tall building.
Looking at the dozens of floors of the building, Sebastian Winn sighed, "Indeed a wealthy person, this building must be at least a billion, Andrew James really sent it as a bet without batting an eye."
Holding the girl’s arm, Isabella Xyler laughed teasingly, "It’s unusual for Sebastian to marvel at others, don’t forget you’re also wealthy."
Sebastian Winn rubbed his backside, grinning, "It’s just that I’m not lavish enough to give away a building yet."
According to his old man’s words, when he can inherit the Winn Manor, then he’ll achieve financial freedom.
Right then.
The girl’s lips quirked slightly, semi-jokingly, "All wealthy people indeed."
With that, Claire Green leisurely walked into the building, her eyes assessing the surroundings.
Not bad.
"Andrew James has quite a building here, what does Olivia plan to use it for?"
Isabella Xyler circled around curiously and asked with wide almond eyes.
"Sell it for money." Claire Green replied with a carefree, devil-may-care attitude.
What nonsense.
Isabella Xyler and the other three were dumbstruck; do you really need money that badly?
"Olivia, are you serious." Isabella Xyler’s face hinted disbelief.
Andrew James might question his life if he knew Olivia sold the gift as soon as he gave it.
Claire Green replied affirmatively, her voice teasing, "No choice, too broke."
Her words made the three’s lips twitch, comedically thinking: With Master Julian as a cash machine, what on earth are you lacking?
At this moment.
John Sinclair suddenly widened his eyes, having a brain wave came up with a theory, "Sister Olivia, from the start of the school year, you’ve always claimed poverty, you’re not secretly gambling, are you?"
Lost all your money and thus claiming poverty.
The ludicrous idea even made Isabella Xyler and Sebastian Winn think it seemed reasonable, their faces turning towards the girl for confirmation.
Claire Green’s eyes narrowed, then she chuckled lightly, dark bright eyes glancing at them, lightly remarking "If you don’t use your brain, donate it to someone in need."
Gambling?
How could they even come up with that?
"Uh, I was just joking." John Sinclair shook his head sheepishly.
Claire Green watched him for two seconds, then nonchalantly lowered her head and sent a message.
At that moment, Edward Monroe in the recording studio was momentarily puzzled by the sudden message on his phone, then his eyes showed a smile.
[K: We can start preparing to sign the contract.]
"Ethan, K’s company is ready."
Edward Monroe was full of excitement telling the man who arrived the good news.
Ethan Song raised an eyebrow, impressive speed indeed.
Seeing the address on Edward Monroe’s screen, Ethan Song was temporarily stunned; if he remembered correctly, this place was in the most bustling area of Capital City with any building worth at least a billion.
And K managed to buy a building here in such a short time, are young people today really that wealthy?
After a while.
He laughed out loud, indeed, West Continent had met a golden opportunity.
"I’ll book plane tickets, after shooting the program tomorrow we’ll head over directly."
Edward Monroe nodded, suddenly a bit puzzled, "I remember there’s no schedule tomorrow."
"I just arranged it for you," Ethan Song replied without looking up, "I didn’t expect her to be so fast."
Upon hearing this.
Edward Monroe fell silent again, throwing himself back into practice, but Ethan Song, having grown up with him, naturally understood his emotions at the moment, revealing a smile of indulgence.
"If you’re tired, rest for a bit."