The Son-In-Law Shot to Fame (Donald and Jennifer)

"When did our manager ever hit him? Quit spouting nonsense. Go on! Get out of here quickly. Don't cause trouble here."

Seeing Jonty react this way, Donald was immediately rather puzzled.

Generally speaking, workers like Floyd, if bullied by the project manager, should feel quite happy when someone more powerful from the corporate headquarters arrived. Why does it feel like they're avoiding me like a plague now?

What's going on?

Meanwhile, seeing Donald standing still, Jonty and his group were thinking that since they couldn't afford to offend him, they'd just avoid him.

Those few people had helped Floyd up and were ready to go elsewhere.

Unexpectedly, as soon as they moved Floyd, he let out a loud cry, clutched his leg, and began to weep.

"Stop! Don't touch me. I think my leg is broken!"

Upon hearing Floyd's words, everyone froze, not daring to make another move.

Their gaze fell on Floyd's leg. Sure enough, they saw his jeans dyed red with fresh blood.

"How did this happen? Didn't Mr. Jackle already refrain from hitting your leg?"

With tears in his eyes, Floyd answered, "When they were chasing me, they kept hitting my legs with their sticks. They only managed to catch me because I couldn't bear the pain anymore. Mr. Stark, is my leg broken? Will I become a cripple in the future?"

Everyone's eyes were somewhat reddened at those words.

If they had the ability to do other jobs, they certainly wouldn't be here doing manual labor.

For them, their health and physique were what got them jobs.

After all, construction sites weren't charity organizations. They wouldn't employ people with physical disabilities.

If something unexpected happened to the worker during the work process, who could bear the responsibility?

Floyd was still so young. Yet, just because of one accident, his leg was broken by those three rascals.

"Don't worry. You won't be crippled. I still have some money left. Let me take you to the hospital," said Jonty as he prepared to take Floyd to the hospital.

At this moment, Donald looked at the group and spoke up. "Even though I'm not sure what exactly you're all worried about, do you really want to spend your entire life being oppressed by people like Wilbur?" "You don't know jack! Get lost!" Jonty, who had a fiery temper, was about to shove at Donald.

However, Donald placed his left hand on Jonty's wrist and yanked the latter.

Having lost his balance, Jonty stumbled and fell directly onto the ground.

Before the man could stand up, Donald stepped on Jonty's back with one foot.

Donald's actions thoroughly infuriated all the other workers.

"You have a death wish, don't you!"

"Let go of Mr. Stark!"

It was apparent that Jonty was the leader of these workers.

Therefore, now that he was being trampled on by Donald's feet, they were all extremely agitated.

Donald pulled out a dagger from his waist and placed it directly against Jonty's neck.

The workers who originally wanted to step forward were instantly stunned.

What is this kid up to? Is he planning to kill someone?

"You guys fear Wilbur but not me. You'd rather endure in silence when he bullies you, but the moment I push you around, you immediately think of coming at me. Well, I'm confused now. Are you guys afraid of trouble or not?" asked Donald.

They recognized that look in his eyes all too well.

Wilbur often looked at them with this kind of gaze, too.

Previously, they didn't understand what kind of gaze this was.

But now, they understood. It was how the strong gazed at the weak.

It was a gaze full of disdain, pity, and even perplexity.

One of the younger, spirited guys couldn't bear such an insult and yelled at Donald, "What do you even know? You're from the corporate headquarters, and we're not! Wilbur will, at most, have his wages deducted a little after we report him. But what about us? We still have to make a living under him!"