Son-In-Law Madness

Chapter 906 No One Messes Around On My Set

Geralt's connections were the source of his bravado.

After bearing with Ronson for a long time, he felt a sense of satisfaction from speaking his mind.

Ronson might be forthright and bad-tempered, but he still managed to maintain a rational mind.

It wasn't lost upon him that slapping Geralt would naturally mean the end of the movie production and everyone losing their jobs as a result.

In the end, the sight of Ronson seething filled Geralt with glee.

He then sneered, “And here I was, wondering how big of a deal you are, Ronson. It's clear not that you're nothing but an id*ot. That said, I'm not someone who holds grudges. If you're willing to grovel on your knees and apologize, I'll forget everything that you said to me tonight. How about that?”

“Geralt, you've gone too far this time!”

Weston was shocked by Geralt's outrageous demand. It was one he would never accept, let alone Ronson.

Nonetheless, Geralt, resolute in cowing Ronson into submission, responded in a nonchalant tone, “Yea, I'm doing it on purpose, so what are you going to do about it?”

Smack!

No sooner had Geralt finished speaking than a bag full of mineral water bottles slammed into his face.

Unable to dodge in time, Geralt was thrown onto the ground by the impact.

“Am I on the wrong set? How dare anyone behave with such impunity no my set?”

The sight of Donald walking over in slippers and holding two bags of water bottles brought a sense of elation to Weston.

“Mr. Campbell, you're finally here. If you hadn't come, I would have been at a loss on how to deal with this.”

After placing the bags on the table, Donald gestured for everyone to get a drink.

Nevertheless, the department managers didn't dare leave their seats, for only a terrifying person was capable of knocking someone down with a bag of water bottles.

As for Ronson, he was always himself in front of Donald.

After taking a bottle out of the bag, he gulped half of it down in one go.

Donald subsequently put a cigarette between his lips and tapped Geralt's body with his right leg. It was then that he realized the latter had been knocked out by his earlier strike.

“Who is this? Why does he speak so impudently?”

Weston laughed awkwardly as he replied, “This is Geralt Grant, our producer. He was sent here by headquarters. He doesn't usually behave that way, it's just that we have encountered some problems that resulted in a conflict between him and Ronson.”

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