Son-In-Law Madness

“Mr. Campbell, it was you who established the rule against drug dealing in Pollerton. I wouldn't dare engage in such activity, even if I had a hundred times the courage!”

Ashton extended his right hand for Donald to see as he spoke.

Only four fingers were left on his hand.

“Mr. Campbell, I joined Razor Gang just to make a living. As you know, uneducated people like me don't know how to do business, too. All I know is fighting and killing, but I wouldn't dare to break any of your rules. This finger of mine was chopped off by my boss when I refused to sell drugs for him. I, Ashton Brunner, swear to the heavens that I'll die a horrible death if I have ever touched drugs.”

Seeing the agitated look on Ashton's face, Donald knew that the young man didn't have the guts to lie to him.

After some thought, he said, “All right, get up.”

Upon seeing that Donald believed his words, Ashton felt a sense of relief, as if he had just survived a catastrophe.

His back was already drenched in cold sweat. He wouldn't know what to do if Donald truly didn't believe what he said.

“Mr. Campbell, could you please tell me who's been talking behind my back? It almost cost me my life.”

Ashton wouldn't have taken it to heart if an average Joe came accusing him of selling drugs. He would've just laughed it off.

However, someone actually told Donald that he was selling drugs, which was akin to handing Donald a knife so he could go on a rampage.

Donald shot Ashton a glare. “Why? Are you planning on seeking revenge?”

“No, no, no. I wouldn't dare to harbor such thoughts. I'm just thinking of visiting in person to apologize one day.”

“All right, let's consider your matter settled. As long as you don't break my rules, you're free to make money as you wish. I won't interfere. But did you just say your boss is selling drugs?”

Ashton spoke with a hint of awkwardness. “Mr. Campbell, the underground big shots in Pollerton now are not the same as those from the past. Ever since you purged the underground forces in Pollerton, there has indeed been a period of calm. But, every city has its dark side, right? So, naturally, someone has to do such grey area businesses. Gradually, gangsters from somewhere else or local punks rise to become local powerhouses.”

Donald furrowed his brows and said, “Cut the cr*p! I'm simply asking who is your boss and whether he's selling drugs.”

Ashton bobbed his head and said hesitantly, “My boss' name is Tancred Zobek. He's quite well-known in the business circles of Pollerton. The second-in-command is called Grady Quinlan. He's a ruffian just like me. However, he used to be an underground fighter, rumored to be some sort of war god.”

Donald was filled with disdain upon hearing Ashton's explanation.

Why on earth would a war god meddle in such shady business? It's nothing short of self-degradation.