"Impossible!"
Upon hearing the words of the Three Blade Group employee, Bridger Davenport's frown deepened.
Although he was tied to a chair, he kept struggling as if he had forgotten that he just had a leg broken.
"Before coming here, I had people watching this place the entire time; there's no way Aron Jackson's men could have gotten here so quickly!"
Bridger Davenport couldn't believe it, but the approaching footsteps were getting louder and left no room for explanation.
"Aron Jackson! Your men?"
Feeling the vibrations underneath his feet, Gerrard Cook also turned his body and stared straight at Aron Jackson.
Before making a move, Bridger Davenport had specifically asked him to have someone stationed to keep a close watch on how many people Aron Jackson brought.
As the manager of Gonzalez City, Gerrard Cook naturally did not dare to neglect this, so upon receiving the order, he arranged for people to guard the West Lake docks day and night.
