Chapter 703: I Never Touched Her

He thought Selah wouldn't stoop so low as to pick just any man. But when he laid eyes on George, the suppressed anger burst forth.

The middle-aged man before Channing had a protruding belly, only a few sparse strands of hair floating above his head, a flabby physique, and a lecherous countenance. He was drunk, holding a gorgeously made-up young woman in his arms, his pudgy hands constantly caressing her exposed shoulders.

Under the cover of darkness, a look of disgust flashed in the woman's eyes. She pretended to be tender and leaned against the man's shoulder with a lazy demeanor.

"Sweetheart, I think someone up ahead is staring at you. Do you know him?"

"What? Where is he?"

As soon as George opened his mouth, a strong stench of alcohol wafted over. He drunkenly pointed at the man before him, his slurred voice ringing out, "Who are you?" "George."

Without hesitation, the man clenched his teeth and marched forward, swinging his fist towards George's face.

George was caught off guard and let out a painful scream, feeling a stinging sensation on his nose as if it had been cut.

Before he could react, he instinctively reached up, feeling a sticky warmth on his fingertips-blood!

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George, who had been swaggering around Akloit for half a lifetime without encountering any trouble, had now been punched shortly after arriving in Onistead.

However, George wasn't the type to be bullied. If he was hit, he would hit back, right?

Standing up and wiping the blood off his face with the back of his hand, he glared fiercely at the dark figure, the drunkenness in his eyes subsiding.

"You're courting death, daring to hit me! Do you know who I am?"

A cold wind blew, causing the black cloak on the man's head to flutter slightly, revealing a strikingly handsome face. The short green beard added a touch of mature male charm to him. He appeared as a messenger walking in the dark night, exuding an extraordinary aura of dark power.

move. His tightly clenched fist involuntarily relaxed, then clenched again, the veins on the back of his hand bulging, displaying his current unease. "Since you're looking for trouble, don't blame me, George! I've lived to the age of fifty-five and have never

he grabbed a rusty iron rod from the wall and charged towards the man, aiming for

was a genuine iron

man's brains would probably splatter on the spot. The woman, who could already anticipate the

"Ah!"

the imminent bloodshed, hoping to avoid

what happened was completely different from what she had expected. Instead, there came a series of familiar and

"Ouch!"

so much... Stop hitting me, or I'll

I messed up, I really

scene.

and now he was being beaten to the ground and begging for mercy without a hint

all this, crossed her

were shattered and scattered on the ground. With his severe myopia, he could only kneel and carefully search for his glasses, all the while casting furtive glances at the man. So

of long, sturdy legs wrapped in black suit

face under

yellow streetlight revealed an

as if it hadn't been exposed to sunlight for years. The veins stood out

upturned eyes emitted a fierce glint, like an eagle circling

"What Selah?"

subconsciously throwing back a question,

hint of guilt and fear flashed across his

who

uncontrollably. Once again, he raised his fist

dare you ask me who Selah is? How could she choose

you treated her so badly, why did

dare you mistreat her! How could

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