"Boss Jackson, for someone of your standing in the underworld, don't your workers have any discipline?"
Upon hearing Julius Reed's words, Beckett Carmichael's expression instantly darkened.
Who was he?
The big boss who called the shots, even nobles from the capital city had to address him as Mr. Carmichael when they saw him.
And now, a lowlife street thug from Gonzalez City, merely a small-time hooligan, dared to act recklessly in front of him?
It was truly an overestimation of one's own abilities!
"He's not exactly my employee, strictly speaking, I'm more his employee."
Aron Jackson spread his hands, looking somewhat helpless.
"Ha! Since you're courting death, then I'll grant your wish!"
Beckett Carmichael sneered with disdain and said to the bodyguard, "Eli Yarrow, start by breaking their legs!"
"Understood!"
The bodyguard called Eli Yarrow cracked his neck and looked at Julius Reed indifferently, "Which leg do you want me to break first?"
