The Supreme Soldier in the City-Chapter 169: Ambushed

For an entire morning, James Brown and Emily Lopez didn’t have a moment of rest until half past eleven when the job market was nearly over, and it was only then that they finally concluded today’s recruitment event.

"Brother-in-law! I’m so tired, I don’t even want to move anymore," Emily said, leaning her head against James’s shoulder.

James knew Emily was exhausted and gratefully said, "Emily, I really can’t thank you enough for today."

With her eyes closed, Emily replied, "Don’t just say it, I want you to show it, I want a more substantial way of showing it." ƒгeewebnovёl_com

"What do you want then? Tell me, today your brother-in-law will certainly satisfy you."

Even though there was no need to pretend anymore about his relationship with Gina, James had already grown accustomed to being called ’brother-in-law’ by Emily, and even in front of her, he was used to referring to himself as such.

"You said it, no take-backs," Emily immediately turned her head and playfully stared at James.

"Of course, when has your brother-in-law ever gone back on his word?"

"That’s true. Now let me think, how should I have you thank me?" Emily blinked her big eyes, seemingly unable to decide on something James could do for her.

James was in no hurry, organizing various things, especially the resumes of the job applicants.

By the time he finished, Emily had an idea. She patted James’s shoulder and said, "I’ve got it—first, we go eat, then after eating, we watch a movie together. You have no objections, right?"

"How could I object? First, we dine, then watch a movie." With such a simple request, James was, of course, very quick to agree.

"OK!" Emily snapped her fingers and promptly stood up.

The two left the job market, with James leading Emily towards the parking lot.

Emily’s eyes scanned the parking lot and said, "Brother-in-law, did you drive here? Now that you’re the president, shouldn’t you have a nice car?"

"You know as well as I do that my title as president is just for show."

"Mascots aren’t just for anyone to become, and since they made you into one, shouldn’t you at least have the face for it? Otherwise, wouldn’t you also embarrass the company when you go out? Wow, look at that beautiful Porsche! When can I ever own one?"

Upon seeing the Porsche that Lucy Campbell had left for James, Emily’s eyes immediately lit up.

"Heh, is this car that good?"

"Of course, it’s the latest Porsche 991 model—it’s just so cool. If I could drive a car like this once in my life, I’d be content."

"Then go ahead and drive it." James tossed the car key to Emily.

Emily caught the key, and instantly let out a joyous yell. The key chain had the Porsche emblem on it. She sprinted to the Porsche straightaway, pressed the remote key, and as the car lights lit up, she swiftly opened the door and hopped in.

James followed her into the car, and Emily immediately said, "Brother-in-law, you really do make the best mascot, getting to drive a Porsche and all."

"This is the boss’s, left here with no one else to drive, so I’m borrowing it. But the car is too feminine; I wouldn’t drive it if I had any other car."

"Brother-in-law, this is a Porsche! If you take it out to pick up girls, you’d be successful every time. I can’t believe you don’t like driving it; it really beats me."

James sighed and said, "I’m not one of those young playboys who go around picking up girls."

"I’m telling you, brother-in-law, how old are you? Twenty-six, the perfect age for picking up girls. Even those over thirty are still driving sports cars to pick up girls. Besides, these young girls only care if you have money and a brand-name car; they don’t care how old you are. Even if you were as old as Methuselah, or looked as ugly as a demon, you’d still have pretty girls following you."

James suddenly felt a headache coming on, "Can people that old even drive?"

"You’ve got a point. Anyway, I’ll just enjoy myself for now." After saying that, Emily started the car, and the engine roared as the Porsche shot forward, almost hitting an oncoming vehicle.

"Hey, slow down!" James quickly cried out.

"Heh heh..." Emily pressed the brake, laughing embarrassedly, "This car’s accelerator is too sensitive; I barely touched it, and it took off. I was still thinking I was driving my old car."

"Slow down, get used to it first."

This time Emily was much more cautious, and the Porsche didn’t shoot forward again. As they slowly left the parking lot, upon hitting the main road, the car became like a wild horse released from its reins, quickly overtaking one car after another.

"Hey, hey, the speed limit here is fifty, how many tickets am I going to get with you driving that fast?" James cried out again.

Emily slowed down and said, "No way, the police stopped us last time and they didn’t ticket us."

James Brown instantly had a headache and said, "I used another car to block the camera. It’s not like the police recognized me."

"Wow, that’s really true? Then I’ll drive slower," Emily Lopez stuck out her tongue sheepishly.

"You really thought I was someone they knew, unbelievable," James Brown said with a wry smile.

Emily Lopez chuckled and said, "No worries, if worse comes to worst, we’ll just get a few more driving licenses to take the points. It’s not like each one takes twelve points. A little fine, and a CEO like you wouldn’t care."

Though she said this, Emily Lopez still slowed down the car. The highway was wide, but there were still quite a few cars on the road. She didn’t have the driving skills James had. Enjoying the drive was one thing, but racing recklessly was another matter she dared not try.

After more than an hour, Emily Lopez didn’t even know where they had ended up. When she saw a mid-range hotel up ahead, she finally pulled over.

The two of them went in, directly requested a private room, ordered a few dishes, and started eating. While dining, Emily Lopez kept talking about how thrilling it was to drive the car.

After eating for a while, Emily Lopez rubbed her head and said, "Why am I feeling dizzy..." before she slumped onto the table with a thud.

James Brown had just called out to Emily Lopez when he too clutched his forehead and collapsed onto the table.

The door to the private room opened, and two men walked in, one of whom was Thomas Johnson, who had raced with James Brown the other day.

As soon as Thomas Johnson entered, he gloated, "Damn it, I finally caught you, kid. You dared to mess with me. You think you’re tough? Now how useful is that toughness? A little hallucinogen, and I’ve knocked you both out."

The other, a sleazy-looking man in his thirties, grinned and said, "Mr. Quinn, how about it? The drug’s powerful, right?"

"Not bad! Really good, indeed. Get me more of this stuff later. If I fancy a girl, I’ll just drug her."

"No problem. But regarding the price..."

Thomas Johnson glared at him and said, "Quit your damn babbling. Do I, Thomas Johnson, look like I lack money? Just get it done."

"Alright, alright, Mr. Quinn, let me remind you, the drug’s effect lasts for about an hour. After an hour, the person will wake up. If you want to wake someone up directly, just rub alcohol on their nostrils. They’ll be up in less than two minutes."

"What if they wake up from pain or something?"

"No, that definitely won’t happen. This drug is strong. When affected, the person is like dead, knowing nothing at all. You could stab them with a knife, and they still wouldn’t wake up."

"Fine, I got it. Now get out and close the door," Thomas Johnson said impatiently waving his hand.

The sleazy guy quickly backed out and closed the door behind him.

With a smug smile, Thomas Johnson walked over to James Brown and said, "Kid, you’re too green to fight with me. I’m going to beat you to death today."

"Kid, how should I play with you today, huh? Since you’re so tough, I’ll just enjoy beating you up. Haha," Thomas Johnson laughed excitedly, but instead of starting right away, he glanced over at Emily Lopez and said, "This chick is damn beautiful. After I’ve had my fun beating you, I’ll tie you up and play with your woman right in front of you. That’ll kill you, haha..."

After another round of triumphant laughter, Thomas Johnson swung his fist towards James Brown’s head.

But before his fist could touch James Brown’s head, it wouldn’t go down any further, as if clamped by a pair of pliers. A hand had grabbed his wrist, making it impossible to move.

Following the hand that was holding him, Thomas Johnson’s scalp tingled with fear because that hand belonged to James Brown, who simultaneously lifted his head and revealed a brilliant smile.

"You... You were drugged, weren’t you?" Thomas Johnson stammered.

"Those petty tricks of yours were supposed to drug me?" James Brown’s smile deepened, and as he applied pressure, Thomas Johnson felt as if his wrist was about to snap, crying out loud in pain.

A chicken drumstick was suddenly stuffed into his mouth, muffling his cries.

"Mmmph..." Michael Quinn shook his head, trying to pull the drumstick out of his mouth, but James Brown’s fist had already struck his belly. James had quite the technique, hitting precisely Michael Quinn’s stomach, causing his eyes to nearly bulge out from the pain.

"Stay still. If you dare to move again, I’ll break your legs," James Brown snorted coldly and let go of Mr. Quinn’s hand.

Thomas Johnson collapsed to the floor, clutching his stomach and didn’t even attempt to pull the chicken drumstick from his mouth anymore. The pain was too intense for him to think of anything else.

James Brown raised his foot and stepped on Thomas Johnson’s shoulder. The man immediately face-planted into the ground, struggled a bit, but couldn’t get up. James Brown’s foot was like a mountain pressing down on him.

James Brown snorted again, "Kid, last time you sent someone to beat me up, I’ve been meaning to have a word with you. You’ve conveniently shown up today, saving me the effort."

At that moment, Thomas Johnson was truly afraid, trembling all over. He wanted to beg for mercy, but the chicken drumstick blocked his speech. He always thought highly of himself, but only now did he realize that in this predicament, he was like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered, completely powerless to resist.