Chapter 257 A Good Hard Slap
Kingsley marched forward and stood before Tyrone, meeting the latter’s gaze. “Without definite instructions from Lord Campbell, I won’t take your life. But…”
Smack!
Before he finished his sentence, Kingsley clasped his hands around Tyrone’s neck and then pulled him in closer and slapped him across the face.
Holy moly!
Goodness gracious!
Oh my god!
In the big hall, hundreds of individuals froze on their spot, stunned as if they had been struck by lightning. They were shocked beyond belief.
Is Kingsley crazy? That’s Tyrone! Yet, Kingsley just gave him a good hard slap right in front of everyone when he’s but a leader of the Horizon Group!
Tyrone was astonished himself. His face turned pale as he stared at Kingsley blankly, and his face eventually became contorted in anger.
With that one slap, the mysterious facade of his that came from being a member of a prestigious family with centuries of history was shattered instantly, and his superior image was ruined.
He feared that no one would ever treat him with respect ever again.
“Kingsley! You must be crazy!” Tyrone roared.
“Let go of Mr. Tyrone!” a youth belonging to Gideon’s faction called out.
However, the moment the words left his mouth, he screamed as Kingsley’s Azure Wyvern sword flew toward him and pierced through his chest. He was pushed back by the enormous force and pinned to the wall by the blade. Blood dribbled down slowly on the wall.
“Anybody else has anything to say?” Kingsley murmured.
Everyone else stayed silent out of fear that Kingsley would take their lives next.
At this moment, everyone knew that Kingsley was a mad dog.
“Not even Luke would dare steal Lord Campbell’s land reclamation project. So who are you to do so?” Kingsley spat, his voice cold. He then gave Tyrone another slap. “I heard that you like hitting people in the face. I’ll let you have a taste of your own medicine today!”
Tyrone was infuriated. His eyes dimmed gradually, and the murderous intent within his heart expanded to the extremes.
Then, Kingsley let Tyrone go. “I won’t take your life. The question is, do you dare take mine?”
Kingsley then pointed at his temples. “Come, shoot me right here. Do away with my life.”
Tyrone stared at Kingsley fixedly. A gun soon appeared in Tyrone’s hand, and he aimed it at Kingsley’s skull.
Some of the onlookers were clamoring for Tyrone to open fire in their hearts.
Kill him! Pull the trigger!
Many of them were looking forward to Tyrone putting a bullet in Kingsley, and they knew that Tyrone had the guts and capability to do so. After all, Tyrone was the Ninth Prince of the Campbell clan, and he was one of the third-generation generals as well.
However, Tyrone knew what would happen if he opened fire.
He would incur the wrath of Horizon Group and Lord Campbell.
Everybody knew the consequences would be dire if one offended Lord Campbell.
Amongst the Campbell clan, there was an individual with god-like strength who was so old that he was akin to a living fossil. He once analyzed Lord Campbell’s power and eventually declared, “I’ve never met the young man called Lord Campbell before. However, if we do engage in a fight, I’m not sure that I would be able to win. His strength is terrifying, and I’d advise everyone to avoid getting on his bad side at all costs.”
“Go on, shoot.” Kingsley smiled.
Tyrone set his gun down gradually and threw it on the ground. “Horizon Group wins.”
Whether it was Rupert, Akio, or others from the Gideon faction, everyone present was dumbstruck, gaping at Tyrone and Kingsley.
Tyrone actually admitted defeat! What does this mean? This must mean that Tyrone dreads Horizon Group, or to be more accurate, he’s afraid of Lord Campbell! Exactly how formidable Lord Campbell is for the Ninth Prince of a five-hundred-year-old family to fear him!
Tyrone fished out his handkerchief once again. He covered his nose, then coughed a couple of times. His face was unusually pale as he said, “General Felton, I will be officially informing Lord Campbell of your every action today in a black-and-white.”
Kingsley merely leered at Tyrone coldly. What an idiot!
