232 Who Were These People?
Logan Hall hung up the phone and did not report anything.
Braydon Neal’s hearing was astounding, so he had already heard the entire conversation. He frowned. “Send someone to Preston University.”
“Yes, sir!”
Logan’s gaze was solemn as he silently prayed that nothing had happened to Heather Sage.
Otherwise, the entire Preston city would not be peaceful tonight.
Braydon took out his phone and calmly made a call.
Thomas Manor.
Joseph Thomas was practicing in the empty yard when he heard his phone ringing in the living room. He was drenched in sweat when he saw that it was Braydon.
“Braydon bro?” he asked in surprise.
“Is Heather at your place?” Braydon asked.
Joseph turned around and shouted, “Sis, is Heather here?”
“No, we didn’t have any classes this afternoon. Didn’t she go to the Neal family’s place?”
Xana Thomas had just taken a shower. She was wearing a tulle nightgown, and her figure was exquisite. She dried her wet hair and stood on the balcony of the villa next door.
But Heather Sage did not go to the Neal family’s place!
She did not return home the entire day either.
Braydon Neal hung up the phone, his eyes cold.
A living person had disappeared into thin air in Preston?
Braydon took the black cloak hanging on the drying rack and wrapped himself in it. He went out again while saying coldly, “Transfer the Preston main team. Find the person within 20 minutes!”
The order came from Braydon and went straight to the Preston main team.
Old Man Zito quietly disappeared. He had already sworn an oath in the capital that he would be a slave and servant to the young master of the Qilin master.
This Qilin young master was definitely Braydon Neal!
Old Man Zito left quietly to look for Heather Sage.
All the members of the Preston main team rushed to Preston University to search for clues and find Heather.
Sammy Dudley was injured, so he stayed behind to take care of Ginny Neal.
Luke Yates followed quietly, stepping on the flying leaves and following closely behind Braydon, saying, “Brother, she should be fine. Don’t worry too much.”
What Braydon was really worried about was not Heather meeting martial artists, but her meeting hooligans on the streets.
All the martial artists in the world knew the name of the northern army.
When Heather encountered trouble, she only needed to say the words ‘northern army’, and it was enough to deter those martial artists from acting rashly.
On the contrary, ordinary people were the most troublesome.
How could ordinary hooligans know how terrifying the northern army was? If Heather encountered such hooligans, it would be the most dangerous.
This was what Braydon was most worried about.
To the south of Preston University, there was a large market next to Sanders Road. Merchants from all walks of life gathered here.
After all, Preston University had tens of thousands of students and teachers.
The peddlers were profit-seeking and knew that students were the easiest to earn money from.
As a result, people from all walks of life were gathered here.
In the evening, young men with dyed hair could be seen collecting booth fees in the market with cigarettes in their mouths.
In essence, it was a disguised protection fee.
These people were all locals.
Until a group of special young men in black appeared in this lively market and quietly took away the gangsters wandering in the market.
In the northwest corner of the market, an old woman in her sixties did not have a stall. She had placed freshly picked vegetables on the ground. They were all common vegetables such as cucumbers and white radishes.
All in all, it was no more than twenty pounds.
At her age, it was impossible for her to carry a hundred pounds worth of vegetables to sell here.
Even a strong adult man would not be able to walk far with that kind of weight.
The old woman was very quiet. She squatted in the corner and looked at the pedestrians. She probably hoped that someone would come buy her vegetables.
A group of seven young people walked over. They looked to be university-going age, but their hair was dyed in various colors. They had cigarettes in their mouths as they stood in front of the old lady’s stall.
The surrounding stall owners looked at them with disgust.
The seven hooligans were led by the skinny young man in the middle. His nickname was ‘Stick’.
“Old lady,” he cursed. “The stall fee is 50 dollars, and the market management fee is 50 dollars. 100 dollars in total. Pay up!”
“Young man, I’m not using your stall.”
The old woman was a little flustered as she stood up and hurriedly explained.
Stick sneered. “As long as you set up a stall here, you have to pay. Cut the crap. The stall fee and market management fee cannot be reduced by a single cent!”
“Brother, this person is old. Please make an exception!” The stall owner who was selling meat next to him stepped forward and politely handed him a cigarette.
In the end, the troublemaker slapped him away and said fiercely, “None of your business. Get lost!”
Anger flashed in the eyes of the stall owner, but he was still pulled aside by his wife as she complained, “Why are you meddling in these matters? If we offend them, will we still be able to continue our business in the future?!”
...
The stall owner ignored everyone and squatted on the ground to smoke.
He probably felt angry too!
The stall owners in the market worked hard to get their hard-earned money, but in the end, they had to be exploited by these hooligans.
The stall fee and market management fee were 100 dollars each time.
Was it not a disguised form of protection fee?
They were sucking them dry!
The vegetables brought by the old woman were worth at most 70 to 80 dollars. In the end, the stall fees and market management fees were more than the price of selling vegetables.
Stick liked to bully this kind of elderly the most. He felt that they were not a threat and could still get money.
He got impatient and crushed two cucumbers. He said fiercely, “Old thing, hurry up and pay up, or I’ll throw you out!”
As he spoke, he reached out and grabbed the old woman’s collar.
This caused the surrounding stall owners to look at him angrily.
...
However, at this moment, a fair left hand reached over and grabbed Stick’s wrist. “Don’t you think it’s too much to use a seven-foot-tall body to humiliate a 60-year-old woman?”
“Who the f*ck are you? Let go of me or I’ll kill you!”
Stick looked fierce.
Braydon Neal placed his right hand behind his back, and his left hand pinched his wrist slightly.
Crack!
The sound of bones cracking was accompanied by a shrill cry from Stick. It resounded throughout the entire market, causing the surrounding people to look over in surprise.
“What the f*ck are you all standing there for? Kill him!” Stick cried in pain.
The six underlings behind him had fierce looks in their eyes. They pulled out sharp daggers from their waists and stabbed at Braydon’s chest.
However, just as the six of them took out their daggers.
Braydon, who was dressed in white, ignored them and stood with his hands behind his back.
Behind him, a hundred young men in black pulled out their three-foot-long cold swords.
Swoosh!
The 100 people were all members of the Preston main team.
“Take them all away!” Steve Xavier said coldly.
With an order, the official members of the Preston main team stepped forward with their cold swords.
The six hooligans immediately cowered.
“Who are you?” Stick asked in horror.
“The Preston main team!”
Steve glanced at him coldly and ordered indifferently, “Capture and kill anyone who dares to resist!”
The cold killing order made Sticj and the others feel a little terrified.
This was even more ruthless than people like them who mingled in society.
Who were these people?
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freewe(b)nov𝒆l