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

Chapter 1109 Skilled In Fighting



"Take me to meet this Mr. Hound," said Donald.

"Now?"

Upon hearing that Donald wanted to meet "Mr. Hound," known as Mad Hound, Oisin began to feel uneasy.

Mad Hound held the position of a squad leader, a stark contrast to individuals like Oisin, who simply knew how to act tough.

It was evident that Donald didn't seek a meeting with Mad Hound to recruit him; it was more likely for a confrontation.

If that was the case, from Mad Hound's perspective, wouldn't Oisin be perceived as part of Donald's group?

Oisin acknowledged Donald's strength, but he also recognized that Mad Hound was a force to be reckoned with.

Hence, all he wanted was to avoid offending either party.

"Sir, we were in the wrong today. What do you say we each fork out some money and pay you twenty thousand to settle this matter?" he implored.

Upon hearing Oisin's words, Donald couldn't help but feel amused.

Initially, they had schemed to extort thirty thousand from him.

Now, the situation had reversed, and they were proposing to give him money instead.

Donald patted Oisin's shoulder and said, "The ability to adapt to different circumstances is a valuable quality in the underworld. However, I'm not short of money. What I'm interested in right now is meeting this Mr. Hound you mentioned."

Seeing the look in Donald's eyes, Oisin knew for sure that he couldn't escape today's predicament.

He gritted his teeth and said to Donald, "Mr. Hound only shows up when we pay our contributions, and every time we do, I'm the only one who goes. Here's the deal. I'll take you to meet Mr. Hound, and you're going to let them go."

Oisin was indeed a person who valued friendship and loyalty.

Since there was no escaping today's situation anyway, he thought he might as well let his buddies' go.

However, Donald immediately saw through Oisin's thoughts.

He said to Oisin in a calm tone, "Letting them go is out of the question. After all, they broke my rules. They can stay in this room for a while, and someone will come to escort them elsewhere later." Upon hearing Donald's words, Arthur immediately knew things would go south.

Just as he was about to turn and run, Donald's palm struck his neck.

Having subdued the three men and thrown them onto the bed, Donald proceeded to follow Oisin along East Forest Street. They navigated two streets and reached the entrance of a narrow alley. "Halt! Who are you guys?"

As soon as the two approached, they were stopped by the fair-haired man guarding the entrance to the alley.

Oisin, with practiced ease, produced a pack of cigarettes and handed it over.

The fair-haired man opened the cigarette box and discovered several hundred bills neatly stashed inside.

"Mr. Beckett, I just settled a substantial business deal, and I'm here to pay my contributions. Is Mr. Hound inside?"

After receiving the money, Beckett Zollinger, the fair-haired man, was in a good mood.

He patted Oisin on the shoulder and said, "Not bad. Among all the underlings working under Mr. Hound, you're my favorite. Mr. Hound is inside discussing business with someone. When you go in later, wait a bit longer. Don't disturb Mr. Hound."

"Understood. Thanks, Mr. Beckett."

Oisin, nodding and bowing respectfully, was about to lead Donald inside.

"Wait a moment."

Beckett quickly stepped in to block Donald.

"You can go in, but he can't. Oisin, you know the rules around here. Newcomers aren't allowed to meet Mr. Hound."

"But Mr. Beckett, this kid wants to join the Enigma Club. He says he wants to make money working for Mr. Hound. He's really good at fighting. Isn't Mr. Hound currently in need of capable fighters?" explained Oisin.

"He can fight?" Beckett looked Donald up and down, barely stifling a laugh.

"Oisin, Mr. Hound's looking for top-notch fighters, not some random street brawler. With his small frame, how much of a fight can he put up?" said Beckett disdainfully.

Right after Beckett had finished speaking, Donald unleashed a powerful punch.

All that could be heard was a sharp crack.

Flying fragments of the shattered concrete wall grazed across Beckett's face, leaving a gash.

Beckett stood there in shock, turning his head rigidly to the side.

The young man punched a colossal hole right through the reinforced concrete wall right beside him!


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