Had the crowd not witnessed the scene earlier, they would never have believed Donald made that hole
in Marco's forehead using his hand.
Can a person dodge a bullet from such a close distance and shove a bullet into another person's
forehead using only his hand?
If someone had asked Chester that question in the past, he would have thought that person was crazy.
However, Donald did all that in front of Chester.
When Marco collapsed, the surrounding subordinates wanted to rush forward to avenge the former.
Yet, as soon as they saw the hole in Marco's forehead, they instantly realized Donald was not someone
they could trifle with.
Noting Donald's gaze was on him, Chester gulped and stammered, “M-Mr. Campbell, I never knew you
were so skilled.”
Donald flashed Chester a half-smile. “I am skilled. Did you just know about it today? Who else do you
know? What other tricks do you have? Bring it on. Don't say I never gave you a chance. I'll wait here for
you to gather your men.”
Chester twitched his lips in frustration.
Mr. Black was the most powerful backer I had. Who else can I look for when you've eliminated him with
your bare hands?
“It's all my fault, Mr. Campbell. I deserve to die. Please have mercy and forgive me again. Or maybe
you could break my legs this time?”
It was at that moment Chester realized a ruthless person like Donald, who could catch bullets with his
bare hands, was not someone he could afford to mess with.
Hence, Chester had to come up with a way to protect himself.
My limbs are nothing compared to my life.
Shaking his head, Donald said, “I've already given you a chance, but you didn't cherish it.”
Chester sensed something was amiss with Donald's words. Just as he was about to run away, the
latter threw a fist.
It landed on Chester's back and crushed his chest.
Chester's eyes widened, and he collapsed to the ground.
When Marco's subordinates saw how ruthless Donald was, they, too, knew there was no escaping
death that day. They gripped their weapons and got ready to fight Donald.
Donald stomped on the ground with both feet, causing cracks to spread over the tiles. Immediately, the
shiny floor turned into a ground filled with uneven and sharp tiles.
Although the ground caused discomfort to the subordinates' feet, it did not affect their movement.
Nonetheless, what happened in the next second shook them from the inside out.
The person who stomped on the tiles vanished as he charged at them like a predator running toward its
prey.
The subordinates were relentless in their attacks, but Donald was too agile and elusive.
One of the subordinates was struck by Donald's knee. As the former subconsciously bent over, Donald
grabbed the former by the back of his head and pushed him hard to the ground.
The subordinate's face slammed into the uneven ground instantaneously, and he was stabbed to death
by the sharp tiles that were as sharp as knives.
“That dude's not human! We need to retreat! We need to leave!”
“Help me! I don't want to die!”
“I was wrong! Please forgive me!”
The hooligans who often bullied ordinary folk were currently crying and pleading with Donald for mercy.
At that moment, Donald seemed like a devil. The moment he made a move, a life would surely be
taken.
Alas, Donald turned a deaf ear to their pleas.
After all, they never begged for mercy when they forced a girl from a good family like Amelia to become
a prostitute.
Moreover, justice and fairness never crossed their minds immediately when confronting someone like
Donald, who had done nothing wrong to them.
They had committed too many crimes and taken too many lives. And now, Donald was representing
justice and passing judgment on them for all the crimes they had committed.
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