Chapter 99: Choose One of Two

"Mr. Riddick's the boss of those chicks."

The big dude shot Wellington a dirty look and flopped into a chair. Elton Riddick, though, was this chubby guy with a constant grin, always looking like he was having the time of his life. Hearing the big guy's words and seeing Wellington's scrawny frame, he just shrugged and said, "Boss of the hookers?"

Wellington didn't get mad. He just grabbed a chair and sat down across from the six of them.

From the moment he laid eyes on the big dude, Wellington knew this guy was trouble, sensing a faint killer vibe from him. In a post-apocalyptic world, that wouldn't be a shocker, but in modern times, it was a red flag. These guys were definitely bad news, and Giselle's taekwondo skills wouldn't mean squat to them. If it weren't for that, Wellington wouldn't have jumped in so recklessly.

"So, what do you guys want?"

Elton, still grinning, said, "Name your price. We ain't short on cash."

The big guys next to him laughed, pointing and making crude comments about Sarah and the others nearby. For guys like them, who lived on the edge, money was just for fun, and they didn't know what else to do with it. The women in the hotel were nice, but they were bored of them. The sudden appearance of a bunch of young, cute girls, whether they were willing or not, didn't matter to them.

"You know my guys risk their necks every day. They can't be left hanging." Elton then tossed out several wads of cash and said, "This should be enough to book you all for a night."

Wellington glanced at the cash but didn't move. Instead, he grabbed a bottle of red wine from their table, poured himself a glass, and smirked, "This wine's pretty good, a few grand a bottle, right? It's a waste for you jerks to drink it. I'll help you finish it so it doesn't go to waste."

"Jerk, what did you say?"

One of the big guys jumped up and swung his massive hand at Wellington. To him, someone as weak as Wellington would be blown away with a single breath, let alone a furious slap. Even if he didn't die, he'd be half-crippled. This big guy had dealt with many such weaklings, at least eight or nine, if not ten, and they were all useless.

But soon, he found his hand caught by an iron grip.

The loud music drowned out the sound of his wrist bones snapping, and only those at the table heard his scream. Naturally, this was just the beginning of his nightmare. In a flash, Wellington had him on the ground, a lightning-fast kick to the gut, making him turn pale and pass out. With level six DNA enhancement and eighteen times the strength, Wellington had messed up his internal organs. He wouldn't be moving for at least ten days to half a month.

All this happened in a blink, and many people hadn't even realized what was going on before the big guy was under the table. In the bar, many drunk people crawled under tables, so no one paid attention to the big guy's condition except Elton and his crew.

Wellington even took a moment to wave to the worried company girls, signaling he was fine.

The big guy who had brought Wellington's eyes widened in shock. With a roar, he lunged at Wellington. But Wellington didn't move, letting the guy's fist hit his chest.

It wasn't that Wellington didn't want to dodge, but his body was strong, and he didn't know any moves, so he could only stand still.

The big guy knew the power of his punch, but the scrawny body didn't fly as he expected, only swaying slightly. The huge contrast made the big guy's eyes widen even more. But what greeted him was Wellington's slightly pale fist.

With just one punch, the big guy fell to the ground, convulsing and foaming at the mouth.

The other four were all terrified. Wellington just smiled, picked up his wine glass, and said, "No challenge at all. How can such tough guys not take a single punch?" He glanced at the four still sitting there and pointed at one of them, "You look decent. Come over and let me see how many punches you can take."

The guy Wellington pointed at swallowed nervously, his throat moving as he subconsciously scooted back in fear.

Elton's face went from smug to shocked in a heartbeat, but he quickly slapped on that fake smile again. He glanced at his two downed goons, then looked back at Wellington and said, "I usually pride myself on having a good eye, but I guess I misjudged you. Where you from?"

"It's not that your eye's bad; it's just that when you first checked me out, I hadn't turned on my DNA boost. What could you possibly see?"

Wellington chuckled to himself but kept it cool on the outside. He put on a show and said calmly, "Where am I from? I survive in the apocalypse."

Elton blinked, confused, and muttered, "Apocalypse? What's that?" After a beat, he realized Wellington was totally mocking him. His face twitched as he said, "Doesn't matter where you're from, you gotta pay for hitting my guys today."

With a shout from Elton, his men whipped out a 54 pistol and aimed it at Wellington.

"Think you're tough? Let's see if you're faster than a bullet," the big guy sneered. "Killing you is like squashing a bug."

Wellington laughed. This guy had a killer vibe, but when it came to actual killing? In a flash, Wellington unleashed his own deadly aura. The big guy's cocky grin froze, his face going pale as sweat dripped down. He felt like he was in a storm of blades, paralyzed with fear.

While the guy was stunned, Wellington moved like lightning, snatching the pistol. He then reached under the table and pulled out a silenced submachine gun from his stash, saying, "If you're gonna do something, do it right. What can a pistol do?"

With that, he pulled the trigger, and the silenced submachine gun spat fire, shredding the tabletop. The wooden table was full of holes, splinters flying everywhere, and it quickly fell apart. The gun made little noise, and in the chaotic DJ music of the bar, no one noticed a thing.

After emptying a magazine, Elton and his crew were already in shock, staring at the destroyed table in disbelief.

Wellington calmly swapped the magazine, walked up to Elton, and patted his face, saying, "Now, who's the bug? You got two choices: end up like the table or like those two." He pointed to the two guys he had knocked out.

Elton swallowed hard, realizing he was in deep trouble. Seeing Wellington's firepower, he knew his few 54 pistols were useless. Hearing Wellington's words, his face turned even paler, sweating bullets. Forcing a smile, he said, "You see, this is all a misunderstanding. No need to escalate things, right?"

"Two choices, starting with you. I don't wanna waste words," Wellington cut off Elton's babbling.

Elton shivered and said with difficulty, "Like them, I guess." He touched his face, "Can you avoid hitting my face?"

Wellington laughed, then slapped Elton's face twice, swelling it up, and finally delivered a heavy punch to his gut. Elton collapsed, foaming at the mouth and passing out. The other three were so scared their legs cramped, but it didn't change their fate. They all got slapped until their faces swelled and then knocked out, ending up under the table.

Clapping his hands and putting the gun back into his stash, Wellington shook his head and returned to the company gathering.

Seeing Wellington return safely, Sarah was relieved and happily asked, "Mr. Guise, what did they say?"

Wellington smiled and said, "Don't worry. With my smooth talking, of course, they decided to turn over a new leaf." Seeing it was getting late, Wellington said to Thalia, "Ms. Fairchild, I got some stuff to take care of, so I'll head out first. Enjoy the rest of your night."

Thalia barely acknowledged him, just nodding slightly.

Only Sarah was still worried that the thugs might come back, but as they were about to leave, they heard the thugs had been taken away in an ambulance to the hospital. Word was their condition was serious, and they wouldn't be causing trouble for at least a month or two. Even more shocking, when the cops got involved, they uncovered the thugs' past crimes...

Naturally, hearing this news, all the ladies were utterly floored.