At that mont, Arthur abruptly flung the door open, which caught Old Peter completely off guard.
In his mind, this household consisted entirely of won, so suddenly seeing a group of n appear left him montarily unable to process what was happening.
Arthur stared at the kitchen knife in Old Peter's hand and said with a cold sneer, "What's this about? Who the hell are you trying to scare with that kitchen knife?"
The item Arthur held in his own hand was a golf club, reportedly acquired as debt repaynt as well. It was the kind of tool that could legally be kept inside a vehicle, ready to be used whenever a confrontation broke out.
Anyone with experience knew that chopping knives were basically just for intimidation, because if an ordinary person hadn't trained with one, they simply could not control it properly. In an actual fight, its effect was roughly the sa as swinging an iron ruler.
Unless soone accidentally struck a vital spot like an artery or the neck, its lethality was honestly very limited. Its greatest utility lay in slicing open skin, drawing a little blood, and once blood appeared, it looked terrifying, but as long as the blood loss wasn't severe, it hardly mattered.
What truly possessed lethal power were blunt instrunts. If a person had enough strength to swing one, even a random blow could cause broken bones and torn muscles.
Old Peter stood there frozen, instantly stamring, "Wood, Arthur… what are you doing here? Didn't you two… get divorced?"
Arthur's face hardened into a dark sneer as he said, "Bullshit, you aren't even dead yet, so why the hell can't I be here?"
All these years, Ruth had been raising the three children by herself. Arthur paid monthly living expenses and rarely showed his face. Plenty of people assud they were divorced, and Ruth never bothered explaining anything. That was exactly why a widower like Old Peter got restless enough to co around and harass her.
Old Peter recoiled a step in fear, instinctively lowering the hand that held the knife, his back pressing against the wall.
The weapon Arthur carried was a golf club, and the four younger guys with him held tools like extended screwdrivers. Every single item was perfectly legal, yet their destructive potential was especially high, and construction company workers carrying such things was entirely reasonable.
"He seems really scared?"
Nancy remarked with a touch of confusion.
Logically speaking, Old Peter was the kind of hard-headed scoundrel who feared neither heaven nor earth and considered himself the baddest of them all, the sort of single-track mind no one wanted to provoke.
"Back in the day, your father was also sothing of a thug around here…"
Ruth couldn't help but curl her lip.
In that earlier era, anyone connected to construction, logistics, or the taxi business was hardly what you'd call an honest, upright person. In those tis, those trades were the established marker of a small-ti punk graduating into a full-blown gangster. If you were an honest person, you simply could not earn that kind of money.
"Damn it, pulling a knife, trying that cheap trick right in front of ."
Arthur was fierce to the extre. He aid the golf club directly at Old Peter's face and roared furiously, "Drop it!"
Old Peter's face went pale, and he stood there completely stupefied by that single shout.
"Drop it, or I'll crack your skull wide open today!!"
Arthur bellowed once more, and this ti Old Peter obediently dropped the kitchen knife, his expression miserable as he said, "You… you're divorced… why ddle in other people's business?"
"Fuck your mother, since when do I need a piece of shit like you to lecture !!"
Arthur handed the golf club to the young follower beside him, stepped forward, and delivered a heavy slap.
The sound was loud and crisp. Old Peter was sent staggering from the blow, and Arthur imdiately followed with another slap to the face.
Watching his father-in-law's smooth, fluid technique, it was evident that he had gathered considerable brawling experience in the past. It had to be said, this style of beating felt imnsely satisfying.
It wasn't just the three people watching from behind the computer screen who enjoyed the sight; those neighbors who secretly despised Old Peter also relished it. If they hadn't feared making an enemy of him, they would have burst into applause long ago.
Several young fellows stared at him with nacing, predatory gazes, and Old Peter's face was a picture of misery, yet he didn't dare utter a word.
Arthur grabbed him directly by the collar and snarled viciously, "You old bastard, from this mont on, whichever foot of yours dares step onto this floor, I will personally snap that foot in two."
"If you ever dare to make trouble for my family again, I will make absolutely sure you die a thorough and complete death."
"Get lost!"
Old Peter scrambled away, crawling and rolling in his haste to escape. Arthur checked the ti, dismissed the few young fellows, and went back inside the house.
By now, the three people had also co downstairs. Arthur chuckled heartily and said, "That guy is the classic bully who only picks on the weak and fears the strong, just as useless as he's always been."
"Dad, you know him well?"
Nancy couldn't resist asking, because Old Peter's behavior had been very strange. Although a brute like him wouldn't normally swallow such an imdiate loss, his reaction toward Arthur still seed excessively cowardly.
Arthur laughed cheerfully and said, "That old bastard, relying on being over ten years older than , used to rob of money and bully when I was little. When your old man grew up, that piece of trash still tried throwing his age around, got into several fights with , and every single ti I beat him into submission."
He spoke with a face full of pride, but Ruth let out a dissatisfied huff and said, "So it turns out you two had a personal grudge, and that old bastard ended up settling all his scores on my head."
Arthur, who had just monts ago been riding high on his triumphant display, instantly wilted and produced an awkward grin.
"He should think twice before coming back. I'll head off to work now, and if anything happens, call imdiately."
Arthur promptly slipped away as well. Only then did Nancy release a cathartic laugh and ask further,
"Brother-in-law, what's our next move? No matter how you look at it, we paid genuinely good money for that parking spot. If we just stay locked in a stalemate like this, it's not really benefiting us either."
"Relax, we can afford to drag this out. He's the one who can't."
"Fine, then I'll leave my mind at ease."
The ethereally beautiful sister-in-law dashed off again in her usual secretive manner, once more answering a call from Deewa. Even Luis was starting to wonder what exactly those two were scheming.
His mother-in-law, having vented a bellyful of pent-up grievance, was now in excellent spirits. Normally, around lunchti, she would grab a quick bite casually at the teahouse and then imdiately dive into her card ga. When she glanced at the ti, it was already half past twelve, and the agreed eting ti was usually one o'clock. She suddenly appeared sowhat embarrassed, hesitating over whether to skip and show up a little late so she could accompany her son-in-law for a al.
Luis very considerately wrapped his arms around her. After a single passionate and lingering kiss, he chuckled and said, "Mom, between you and , what is there that you'd feel too shy to say? Your aunties must be getting impatient waiting, hurry along and go. I'll just grab a quick bite later by myself. We have a whole long future ahead of us, no need to stand on formal ceremony."
Ruth felt so blissful that her entire body lted into a soft, sweet haze. She purred tenderly, "You naughty son-in-law, don't worry. I will definitely help you talk properly with your little aunt."
His mother-in-law departed, radiating boundless, amorous charm. Luis stretched out with a lazy yawn and felt a slight ache all over.
Last night, he had been drinking and staying up late to begin with, and then in the dead of night, he had labored devotedly over both the pregnant woman and his goddess-like sister-in-law. After such an intense level of exertion, even a body forged from iron needed so well-earned rest.
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