NOVPUB
Chapter 979: Chapter 979 You Don’t Deserve to Use My Brother’s Face
"Boss, what do you mean? I don’t quite understand..."
Aron Jackson had been backing up until he hit the wall and could retreat no further.
His entire body pressed against the wall.
He held up his hands, his forehead covered in cold sweat.
"Boss, although it’s been a while since we last met, the joke you’re playing on me is somewhat serious..."
In Knox Ridge’s bedroom, there were only the two of them.
Julius Reed held a hidden weapon box in one hand, with a smile on his face.
And Aron Jackson was drenched in sweat, his back already soaked.
"I always like people who are tough to crack."
Julius Reed walked up to Aron Jackson, smiling, and said, "Noam Martin, you know my temper. If I’m not happy, you might regret coming into this world."
After speaking, he disengaged the safety and pressed the mouth of the weapon box against the other’s temple.
The cool sensation made Aron Jackson tremble, his throat constantly moving.
"Boss, I don’t understand what you mean..."
He took a deep breath and huskily asked, "Could there be some kind of misunderstanding..."
"Misunderstanding?"
Julius Reed shook his head and walked into the living room.
He tossed the hidden weapon box onto the coffee table and slowly walked over to the fridge to grab a can of cold Coke.
Glug.
After pulling off the tab, he drank a mouthful of the icy Coke.
Refreshed!
Taking advantage of this moment, Aron Jackson sprung into the living room and directly snatched the hidden weapon box from the coffee table, pointing it at Julius Reed: "Don’t move."
"Heh." 𝘯𝑜𝘷𝘱𝘶𝘣.𝘤𝘰𝑚
Julius Reed turned around, his right hand holding the half-finished Coke, smiling as he looked at him: "Aron Jackson would rather die himself than point a hidden weapon box at me. Now, do you have any last words?"
His face was full of ease and disdain.
Even with the weapon box pointed at him, there wasn’t even a hint of tension.
"Speak! How did you discover it?"
Aron Jackson’s face darkened as he held the hidden weapon box, coldly saying, "I truly underestimated you! But from the beginning until now, I haven’t slipped up at all! Speak! Why did you suspect me?"
Under the mask was Noam Martin.
A core member of Aron Jackson’s staff, one of the eight-member council of elders.
He had long been in control of Aron Jackson’s movements at the Copper Sparrow Stage and knew his boss’s actions intimately.
He even had a good grasp of his boss’s temperament.
That day, he lied about his mother being gravely ill as an excuse to return to his hometown.
Unsurprisingly, Aron Jackson indeed hosted a banquet himself.
At the banquet, while everyone was drunk, he knocked out Aron Jackson, and following his superior’s instructions, put on a mask identical to Aron Jackson’s, becoming the new Aron Jackson!
Until now, no one had noticed.
One could say Noam Martin had long since regarded himself as Aron Jackson, the bona fide Aron Jackson.
He even forgot that he was once an employee.
Until today!
It was only when Julius Reed said the name Noam Martin aloud that he realized he was fake!
Fake!
Yet he had played his role flawlessly!
Even their meeting today was the first time in person.
Before that, they had only spoken over the phone.
Noam Martin couldn’t believe it. He was filled with fear and curiosity!
"Speak up! Otherwise, I’ll kill you with this hidden weapon box!"
At this moment, he couldn’t care less about the rest.
Fear and anxiety caused the hands holding the hidden weapon box to sweat profusely.
Perfect.
He could use this chance to force Julius Reed to hand over the Divine Dragon Tripod!
"I don’t like being pointed at with a hidden weapon box," said Julius Reed, as if nothing was the matter, taking another sip of Coke: "I will kill anyone who points a hidden weapon box at me, even if there are no darts inside their box."
After speaking, he walked over with a smile.
With each step he took, Noam Martin’s heart sank into further panic.
"Don’t move! Believe me, I will really kill you!"
Noam Martin kept backing away, his hands clutching the hidden weapon box tightly.
Swish!
His back hit the wall; there was nowhere left to retreat.
But now, he was the one holding the hidden weapon box!
"I will really open this hidden weapon box!"
Noam Martin’s head was drenched in sweat, his lips growing somewhat pale.
"Try it. But I bet with you, there are no darts in your weapon box," Julius Reed said, standing less than half a meter from him, his face all smiles.
"Do I need darts to deal with you? The hidden weapon box is just to make you expose yourself," he said and then took another sip of the cold Coke.
Early spring, the air was dry.
The room was a bit cool, but Julius Reed’s heart was hot!
Click!
Noam Martin pulled the trigger.
But, there was only the sound of an empty chamber.
Click!
Again.
Noam Martin was stunned.
He stared with wide eyes, frantically squeezing the trigger.
But inside, there were no darts at all.
"I said, there are no darts in the dart box."
Whoosh!
Julius Reed raised a half-finished Coke over Noam Martin’s head and poured it right down.
The icy cold Coke, with its fizz, poured onto Noam Martin’s head.
Causing him to shiver uncontrollably.
"Awake now?"
Seeing Noam Martin in this state, Julius Reed slowly took the dart box from his hand.
Then, he pulled out a dart from his pocket.
Loaded it.
Swoosh!
The dart box fired.
"Ah..."
Noam Martin knelt on the ground, his right knee shot through.
He let out an involuntary cry of pain, shaking as he covered his knee with his hand.
"Come on, I think you really want to talk to me now."
Julius Reed gripped Noam Martin’s shoulder, dragging him to the couch like a dead dog.
"Let’s make a bet."
"Bet... bet what..."
Noam Martin’s face was deathly pale, his lips devoid of any color.
Sweat poured down him, soaking his clothes.
His lower body was already drenched in blood.
"You bet how many more darts I have in my pocket."
Julius Reed, holding the dart box, sat on the couch and said indifferently, "If you guess right, I’ll spare your life. If not, I will drive the darts from my pocket into your body, one by one. But don’t worry, they definitely won’t be fatal."
"Hiss..."
Noam Martin inhaled sharply, trembling with fear.
"Boss... can’t I..."
Slap!
Before he could finish his words, Julius Reed smacked him across the face.
"You also dare to call me boss?"
Shhrip!
After speaking, he pinched Noam Martin’s temple and viciously tore off the mask!
"Ah!"
The mask was stuck tightly, requiring a special solution to soak it off.
Now that Julius Reed had ripped it off suddenly, Noam Martin’s face was covered in blood.
Pain!
Heart-wrenching agony!
He had been Aron Jackson for a mere week, basking in wealth and glory.
But today, he fell from heaven to hell.
"You don’t deserve to wear my brother’s face."
Julius Reed threw the mask onto the couch and leaned forward slightly, "Guess."
Silence.
In the room, only Noam Martin’s rapid breathing could be heard.
"I told you to guess!"
Julius Reed pulled out a dart from his pocket and slowly pushed it into the dart box.
Click!
Loaded.
Swoosh!
Noam Martin’s other leg was enveloped in a mist of blood.
"Ah... I’ll talk! Brother Davenport... I’ll tell you everything..."
Noam Martin was nearly on the brink of collapse.
He looked up, his eyes filled with terror, "I’ll say..."
"Then speak."
Julius Reed once again took a dart from his pocket and held it between his lips.
"You know my temperament well. If we drag this out, I’m afraid you won’t withstand it."
Having said that, he raised the dart box and, with a fierce blow from his mouth—
Click!
The dart fit perfectly into the dart box.
"Tell me everything you know. Otherwise, I’ll make you regret ever being born."
