Chapter 63 Fighting is the thing I dislike the most
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n“Little girl, my name is Brown, and your friend here broke my friend’s porcelain plate and even started a fight. We have to handle this according to the rules,” the burly man said with an air of righteousness. “First of all, if something is broken, it needs to be compensated, right?”
nWith that, Brown paused and turned to the young man, asking, “How much is your porcelain plate worth?”
nThe young man responded loudly, “A porcelain plate from 1710 should be worth at least $1200!”
nBrown nodded and turned to Alice with a smile, saying, “Young lady, I’ll make the call here, and you can just compensate him with $1000.”
nBefore Alice could say anything, William had already picked up his phone to call the police.
n“Hello, is this the police? I’m at the Chelsea Flea Market, and someone is trying to extort me,” he said.
nWhen faced with problems, it’s important to call the police, a lesson William had learned online. It’s best to let the police handle blatant extortion attempts rather than resorting to violence.
n“You’re calling the cops!” Brown’s face changed drastically, and he reached out to snatch William’s phone.
nWithout even blinking, and as Brown moved to step forward, Alice’s palm had already landed on his chest. It seemed like a light push, but Brown was sent stumbling backward.
n“So you’ve had training!” Brown was furious. He hadn’t expected William to choose to call the police without any warning, and he shouted loudly, “Guys, let’s go. Teach this kid a lesson!”
nBrown had brought seven or eight people with him. Hearing his shout, they all charged at William, trying to subdue him.
n“Let’s see who dares to touch him!” Alice raised her hand and landed a punch squarely on one young man’s face.
nWith a single punch, the young man saw stars, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out.
nWilliam put away his phone and watched as Alice fought off the attackers.
nIt’s undeniable that there is a significant difference between those who have genuinely trained in mixed martial arts and average thugs.
nAlice was well-versed in medical knowledge and knew the human body’s vulnerable points better than anyone.
nShe knew where to strike without causing fatal harm but could still render someone unconscious in a short time.
nWhen it came to physical strength, she might fall short, but every time she made a move, someone would fall.
n“There’s no need to call the police.”
nIn less than a minute, all of Brown’s minions were on the ground, leaving only Brown himself standing.
nAlice frowned; she felt that William calling the police over such a matter was entirely unnecessary. She alone could handle everything, and if the police arrived, it might create more complications.
nRegardless of right or wrong, giving statements and written records would be inevitable.
nAlice was genuinely averse to such bothersome matters.
nWilliam gave a slight smile and said, “I didn’t actually call the police. I just wanted to scare them off and hoped they would back down.”
nHe had their best interests at heart and didn’t want to argue with these street thugs.
nIf calling the police would scare them away, it would be the best outcome.
nBut this group clearly didn’t know any better and insisted on resorting to violence. Weren’t they asking for trouble?
nThey should consider themselves lucky that it was Alice who retaliated. If it were William, he might not have been able to control his strength and could accidentally cause a fatality.
nAlice glanced at William, relieved that he hadn’t called the police.
n“Do you still want compensation?” Alice stared at Brown, pulled out her wallet, and took out a stack of bills. “Take this for their medical expenses.”
nBrown was stunned. The seemingly delicate and fragile young woman in front of him was surprisingly fierce in a fight, taking down one opponent after another with ease, displaying incredible skill.
n“Little girl, I’m sorry, just forget about the money. Consider it bad luck on our part.” Brown didn’t dare to take Alice’s money and kept apologizing.
nWilliam, on the other hand, acted as if nothing had happened and said to Alice, “Let’s go.”
nAlice nodded, put the money back in her wallet, and continued walking forward with William, leaving behind the thugs sprawled on the ground.
n“Master, do you know martial arts?” Alice asked curiously.
nWilliam shook his head, “Why resort to violence? I’m not a fan of fighting and violence.”
nIf the gods who had been obliterated by his palm strike heard this, they would probably have a mental breakdown.
nYes, you’re not a fan of fighting and violence. You almost destroyed the world with a single palm strike!
nAlice pondered for a moment and said, “It’s okay. In the future, if we encounter such situations, we don’t need to call the police. I’ll handle it. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a physical confrontation with anyone.”
n“Alright!” William smiled and continued walking.
nWhen he reached a stall, he suddenly stopped. The items displayed were art pieces from the Renaissance period, and there were quite a few customers in the shop. Business seemed to be booming.
nAmong them, a middle-aged man was speaking to the stall owner, “Coleman, I’m buying everything on your counter, but do you have any other good stuff? Bring it all out, don’t hold back.”
nWilliam looked closely at the shop owner. The man had an ominous aura around him, a pale face with no hint of color, a clear sign of someone who had spent years looting tombs around the world.
nSuch people might indeed have some good items. However, this man was enveloped in an ominous energy, likely having dug up something sinister. If he didn’t address it soon, he probably wouldn’t live much longer.
nThe shop owner grinned at the middle-aged man, “Mr. Ward, I do have good items. The items on display here are worth a total of seventy thousand dollars.”
nThe antiques on the stall were indeed old but were mostly ceramic pieces from the Renaissance period, including bowls, plates, teapots, cups, etc. They usually would only fetch a couple of hundred dollars each, and the most expensive wouldn’t exceed a thousand. There were only about ten items, but he was asking for seventy thousand dollars.
nThe man addressed as Mr. Ward was Powell Ward, owner of the antique shop “Eternal Life Emporium.” People in the antique world knew him as Mr. Ward. He was wealthy and often visited other shops to buy items, then resell them in his own store.
nHe was a regular customer of Coleman’s, and both parties were familiar with each other’s background but never explicitly mentioned it.
nAntique shop owners often buy from tomb robbers and then resell the items, which is very profitable.
nColeman’s antiques were certainly not worth seventy thousand dollars, but this amount was like an entry ticket, allowing him to see more valuable items later. Coleman was confident.
nHe planned to take Powell for a ride first, knowing that better items were yet to be shown.
n“Fine, you say seventy thousand dollars, so be it!” Powell didn’t care about the money and wasn’t worried about Coleman taking advantage of him.
nAfter paying seventy thousand dollars for the items, if Coleman didn’t bring out anything worthwhile, he might disappear from New York City tonight.
n“Quick decision!” Coleman grinned, pulled out a relatively large pearl from his pocket, placed it on the stall, and said, “Mr. Ward, take a look!”
nBefore Powell could respond, William suddenly said, “I’ll buy this pearl for thirty thousand dollars!”
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