Counterfeit Hero

Chapter 1615 - 70: Beat Him (2)

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Chapter 1615: Chapter 70: Beat Him (2)

The relationship between the three most important men in my life at the moment isn’t great. My father doesn’t understand Fatty, and my grandfather knows this rascal too well. Fatty’s current attitude of erupting and hitting is a kind of test; he wants to see to what extent grandfather will back him!

This guy can never escape his small-town shrewdness!

When the doctor confirmed that Adolf was not seriously hurt, Hastings, amidst everyone’s disappointed gazes, calmly said, "Dinner’s getting cold. Let’s go inside."

He expressed no opinion on this conflict and had no response to Fatty’s complaints. Yet, for the Hastings family’s people, this was still a clear signal.

No outsider can hit someone in the Hastings house, and certainly, no one can leave unscathed after doing so.

And this Fatty is the first, and the only one!!!

Fatty’s aggrieved expression vanished like a magic trick. He grinned foolishly and rushed up the steps, taking the wheelchair handle from Margaret, acting like a dutiful child, pushing the indifferent Hastings towards the dining room. It seemed like nothing had happened.

Ann Lei and Margaret, like sisters, whispered and laughed on the way, walking arm in arm beside him. Behind them was a hunched old man and the always-spear-like middle-aged man.

This is an image that doesn’t require scrutiny to be understood. It struck everyone’s heart. An invisible shockwave spread in all directions. Including the family guards and farm workers in the distance, everyone understood that this signified that Fatty from Leray had entered the Hastings house in such a domineering and forceful posture!

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"Quite bold!" said Hastings expressionlessly as the heavy door of the study closed.

Fatty twisted his head, looked around, and then stared bewilderedly at Hastings.

After a sleepless night at the hospital and a silent yet sumptuous lunch, he felt a bit sleepy. His sluggish brain couldn’t comprehend what Hastings, the old man, wanted to do. Was he settling scores after the fact?

Hastings’s voice remained calm: "You’re the first to dare hit someone in my house. Does this mean you think I’m easy to bully?"

Fatty’s heart raced. He looked back at the towering middle-aged man who smiled at him after closing the door, and then at the hunched old man next to Hastings with a sinister expression, suddenly feeling uneasy.

In front of him, that ever-calm Hastings was gone, the sickly old fellow was gone too. All he could see was a sly old man sitting in a wheelchair, coldly watching him, eyes chillingly turning the Marshal’s cane, like a deranged old baboon.

Fatty cursed in his mind. Suddenly, he remembered something: "Maggie hasn’t come yet, I’ll go call him."

"Since you started it, make it worthwhile!" Hastings lightly tapped his palm with the Marshal’s cane and turned his gaze to the middle-aged man standing at the door: "Hei Ge!"

"Yes!" The upright middle-aged man bent slightly, smiled at Fatty, and walked to the center of the study. With each step he took, his bones crackled like firecrackers. When he reached Fatty, Fatty suddenly felt as if he was facing not a person.

But a sharp and cold Battle Axe!

"What are you doing?" Fatty yelled in terror, "What are you going to do? I’m a guest!"

"General Tian, your earlier behavior wasn’t like that of a guest," the hunched old man beside Hastings smiled at Fatty. "If you find Hei Ge alone not exciting enough, I could try joining in."

Despite the fact that the old man looked past his physical peak in every aspect, Fatty could feel a deadly threat from him—a feeling only matched by aces surviving numerous battles. And this old man was clearly more than just an ordinary ace.

Fatty opened his mouth dumbly, his face looked as innocent as could be. He stood obediently, eyes as pure and pitiful as a scared puppy, murmuring as if trying to justify something, when suddenly he threw a high side kick towards the middle-aged man’s head.

This sneak attack was extremely sudden, but it seemed someone had exactly the same idea.

At the moment he kicked, the middle-aged man named Hei Ge also moved. The same side kick, with the same speed and power.

Bang! A dull sound.

Both kicked each other’s protecting forearms simultaneously, bodies abruptly veering under each other’s side kicks.

"You’re sneaky, you’re shameless!" Before regaining balance, Fatty shouted, forcibly twisting his body, executing a windmill-like spin, sweeping his left leg like a whirlwind towards his opponent, while Hei Ge leaned sideways and backward, supporting with one arm, and his legs like two hammers, thrust forward and upward, attacking Fatty’s lower body.

Bang, another heart-stopping thud, the two exchanged kicks without a clear winner. Fatty pushed off with his right foot, using the momentum to leap upwards, his fat body nearly soaring to the five-meter-high study ceiling, then curling into a somersault, shifting through several poses during the descent, his right knee pounding towards Hei Ge’s chest.

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