chapter 7 Dunstan Flores is furious ===

At the alley outside his villa.
Ten years ago, one could see the blue steel roof belonging to a market from his position. Now, it had transformed into a tall building. Dunstan walked quickly in that direction, his expression indifferent. However, if his brothers in the mercenary group saw his look, they would have shuddered.
Dunstan was most terrifying as he could appear powerful without displaying anger.
At the intersection five hundred meters away was a whole row of fruit vendors.
At that moment, a crowd had gathered, frantically pointing in a certain direction.
The chatter and sarcastic tones made Dunstan sneer in disdain.
"You didn't even buy my fruits, so how could I return counterfeit money to you as change? Don't slander me."
"Well then, tell me why you gave us this bag of fruit for free," teased a young man wearing a vest and slippers; his arms covered in tattoos.
A stooped middle-aged man was surrounded by a group of five, and he was filled with panic and felt helpless. "I, I've packed it for you, but you didn't pay me."
"Okay, don't give me any more nonsense. There are fifty counterfeit coins. You'll pay me one for every counterfeit. So it'll be fifty dollars," said the gang leader as he stretched out his hand in front of the middle-aged man.
The surrounding vendors gasped.
To set up a fruit stall in this alley, the daily rent was as high as eight dollars. When business was poor, one could barely earn two or three dollars. Even on the best days, one could never earn more than forty dollars.
These people were simply cutting a piece of flesh from the middle-aged man when they asked for five hundred yuan.
If such occurrences happened two or three times a year, any legitimate businessman would have to accept the fate of bankruptcy.
However, the main issue was that these gangsters came here to create a ruckus at least twice a week, and each time they threatened the stall owners to cough up thirty to fifty dollars. How could anyone stand it?
Some people sympathized with the middle-aged man and couldn't help but speak up, "Brother, we are just running a small business. Why don't you give him a fine of fifty cents per counterfeit coin? Twenty-five dollars is just about right."
As soon as the gangsters heard this, one of them turned around and kicked the man who spoke.
"Brother? Are you worthy of being my brother?"
"I'll be taking twenty-five dollars from you."
Gasp.
Everyone watching was startled and took a step back.
The fruit stall owners returned to their stalls, and they no longer dared to meddle in other people's business.
However, at that moment.
A young girl rushed into the crowd and stood in front of the middle-aged man, protecting him. "What are you trying to do?"
"Enough is enough. You have been troubling Uncle Flores every day, aren't you afraid of retribution?"
The gangsters took one look at the girl and burst into sudden laughter. "Hey, it's you again. Is he your father or your godfather?"
"If he is your godfather, I advise you to find someone else. This old man has neither money nor looks. Whether material goods or sexual desire, I'm sure he can't satisfy you in any aspect."
"Come on, follow us and we will show you what happiness is."
"You," the girl stuttered, looking embarrassed. She had never experienced dealing with such foul language.
At that moment, the middle-aged man couldn't bear it any longer. "You people, get lost. I will not give you a single penny today."
"Beasts, you are all beasts. You ruined my stall and intend to beat me to death. I want each of you to pay me back with your life."
The middle-aged man's words only fuelled the gangsters' rage.
"Screw you, you stupid old man"
"You think I'm cruel when I hit you?"
"From today on, as long as you set up your stall, I bring along a few of my brothers and ruin your stall. I'm already showing you some mercy."
Suddenly.
The scene was chaotic, and a few gangsters thrashed the stall, leaving the fresh fruits scattered all over the floor.
The middle-aged man was so anxious when he looked at the scene that he almost cried. The fruits were fresh supplies, they were all money.
"All of you, stop!"
"Scram."
A gangster kicked the middle-aged man to the ground, and the middle-aged man couldn't get up for a long while.
The young girl was very frightened, but she helped the middle-aged man up and asked in concern, "Uncle Rick, are you okay? Don't scare me."
At that moment, some distance away.
Dunstan stopped abruptly when he saw the middle-aged man being kicked and the corners of his eyes twitched.
"One."
"Two."
"Three, four."
Dunstan counted under his breath.
A few gangsters smashed the stall to pieces in a few kicks. Fresh fruits were scattered on the ground, and the wooden boards erected by the stall were also trampled to pieces.
Despite the mess, the gangsters were still not satisfied.
"I'll crush all these and teach this old guy a lesson."
On the other side, Dunstan gradually stopped his murmurs, "Twenty-three."
At this moment.
He walked over slowly with his hands hanging by his side. Sometimes, he curled his fists into a ball, sometimes he extended his palms.
There was a sudden sound of knuckles cracking.
Dunstan arrived at the fruit stall and walked to the girl and the middle-aged man. He reached out to pull the middle-aged man up. "Dad, I'm back."
"From now on, no one can hurt you."
The middle-aged man didn't react and looked wide-eyed at Dunstan. "You..."
At the same time, the young girl was also in disbelief. "Dun... Dunstan Flores."
"You're alive."
Dunstan smiled slightly and replied, "Bianca, long time no see."
As soon as he finished, both the girl and Rick were shocked. He knew Bianca's name.
If he wasn't Dunstan Flores, ​​who else could he be?
Dunstan patted the dust off his father's body and walked toward the gangster who was trampling on his father's fruits. "Hey, idiot."
The gangster raised his head abruptly and was about to curse, but Dunstan wouldn't give him a chance to speak.
He drove up his knee and kicked the gangster hard on his abdomen, causing the ganster to groan in pain as he kneeled on the ground.
Slap.
Everyone heard the crisp slap resounded sharply in the air, and that wasn't the most terrifying part.
With just a slap, the gangster spurted out a mouthful of blood, and his teeth were knocked-out.
Slap.
Slap.
Slap.
Dunstan continuously slapped the gangster hard on his cheeks.
At the last blow, the gangster's cheeks were torn from the violent barrage of slaps, and a steady stream of blood trickled down his cheeks.
Crash.
A violent kick sent the ganster flying to a trash bin on the street, and he fainted.
The sudden turn of events stunned everyone. Even the remaining four gangsters stared at Dunstan in disbelief, their eyes frozen. "Are you courting death?"
Someone shouted angrily as he rushed towards Dunstan.
But the moment he approached, Dunstan kicked him away and sent him flying.
Before the remaining two gangsters could escape, Dunstan slammed his body slammed on the gangsters and pinned them to the ground.
Dunstan approached the others with a smile. He then kicked one of them until he could not move, and stepped on the other's head with his other foot.
He then repeated his previous attack, where he pulled the third man up and slapped his cheeks till his teeth fell.
As Dunstan slapped the gangster, he narrowed his eyes with a smile as he counted, "Two, three, four, fifty-five, seventeen."
"Twenty-three"
"Twenty-three slaps per person. If I hit one more time, I'm afraid my hands will be dirty." The gangster who was being slapped was already badly beaten and couldn't speak.
Dunstan kicked him violently away, and he landed next to the trash bin. His face was disfigured like a pile of rotten flesh.