Novel Ships
Chapter 882
At the edge of Jindale City, there's this place called Crescent District. It's quite a hike from downtown, all hilly and scenic, making it a paradise for those looking to escape the concrete jungle for a bit of adventure.
After leaving the luxurious Number One Mansion, Keith found himself in a black SUV, zooming towards Crescent District with a determination that could cut through steel.
They pulled up at a crossroads surrounded by mountains, leading up to what was known as a "rural retreat" - a fancy term for a farmhouse turned bed and breakfast. The driver, visibly concerned, glanced at Keith. "Keith..."
Keith's expression was stone-cold. "Stay in the car and keep quiet!"
He stepped out, slamming the car door behind him.
Two burly men, who clearly weren't there to exchange pleasantries, squinted at him from a distance and warned, "The retreat's closed today. Find somewhere else to play."
Keith ignored them and kept moving.Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g
Sensing trouble, the men got on guard. "Who you looking for?"
Keith didn't bother replying. The men exchanged a look and decided to take matters into their own hands, but Keith was ready. He effortlessly disarmed one, sending him sprawling, and then took down the other with a series of brutal punches that left his opponent a bloody mess on the ground. With a chilling calmness, Keith licked the blood from his lip, sending shivers down the spine of the onlookers.
One of the men, terror-stricken, scrambled to his feet and bolted, dialing frantically. "Call Kellan, we've got trouble!"
Soon, a mob armed with machetes emerged, their intentions clear as they faced Keith. "Think you can mess with us and live?"
Keith didn't say a word. In a blink, he was among them, a machete in his hand, fighting like a man possessed. He was there to protect what was his, and heaven help anyone who crossed him.
The fight raged until a man in a suit and glasses stepped in. "Keith, the boss sent me to fetch you."
He nodded at a woman in a sophisticated evening dress, who approached Keith, her heels clicking authoritatively on the ground, unfazed by the chaos. "You need to change before meeting the boss," she said, motioning towards the retreat.
Keith, ignoring both the suited man and the woman, headed towards the farmhouse, his resolve clear.
The woman glanced at the man in glasses, unsure of what to do next.
The man adjusted his glasses, trying to impose some sense of order. "Keith, we have our ways here.....”
Before he could finish, Keith had him in a chokehold, his grip tightening by the second. The man's face turned beet red, gasping for air.
The onlookers were in shock. This man was no ordinary assistant; he was the right hand of someone very powerful. Attacking him was like declaring war.
Several laser dots danced in front of Keith, a silent but deadly warning from snipers ready to act. Keith, unfazed, growled at the man in glasses, his message clear without saying a word.