Chapter 81 Emotional Impulse
Chris was about to leave, but when he heard the manager say that, he felt a bit awkward. "Why are you kicking me out?"
"Robert never backs down on Maple Street," the manager advised in a low voice, "He's had quite a bit to drink today; I bet he'll be back soon."
Chris cursed the manager for being nosy but also knew Robert was a jerk and not worth the trouble. He felt that leaving now would be undignified, as if he were afraid of Robert; but if he stayed, he feared there might be trouble.
After pondering for a while, Chris smiled and said, "No worries. If he doesn't come, I won't leave."
"Don't get into it with him."
"It's fine. Bring some more drinks, and we'll keep drinking for a bit," Chris said, pretending to be calm.
The manager sighed and got up.
As soon as the manager left, Chris quickly told his friend nearby, "Call home and get a couple of guys over. Just say there's an issue at the company."
After the drug line was restored, Matt usually stayed not far from Maple Street, so it took less than ten minutes for Robert to be driven home.
By the roadside, Matt leaned on the car window and instructed, "Go back and sleep quickly; there's stuff to do tomorrow. Call me when you wake up."
"Okay." Robert nodded.
"I'm leaving then."
"Take care, Matt."
"Yeah/" Matt gave a few instructions to Robert before turning to leave.
The young driver, seeing Matt leave, turned and asked, "Heading back?"
"To the warehouse," Robert said calmly, rubbing the scab on his face.
Twenty minutes later, the newly brought drinks had just been served when two young men hurried into the club and said to Chris, "Chris, there's an issue at the company. Mr. Patrick wants you back immediately."
"What's the matter? So urgent?" Chris asked in front of the manager.
"No idea. He just asked you to return back quickly."
"Can't even relax on the weekend," Chris said, pretending to be helpless as he stood up and frowned. "Store the drinks; let's head back."
"Alright." The manager also stood up and agreed, "If there's an issue, go quickly."
Using this excuse, Chris led his friends towards the club's entrance.
Outside, tires crunched on the snow, stopping by the roadside.
Robert, along with the two guys who had been beaten earlier, got out of the car, wrapping their coats around them.
Chris and his group had just walked out of the club's main entrance, and they ran into each other.
"Are you leaving?" Robert, still with blood on his face and reeking of alcohol, asked.
Chris was stunned. "What do you want?"
"I want to beat you up!"
Robert pulled out a gun and started walking up the steps.
The club manager rushed out upon hearing the commotion and immediately frowned. "Robert, can you do me a favor and stop this?"
Robert tilted his head and looked at him. "You didn't help me when I got beaten."
The manager was speechless.
"Does this street belong to you?" Robert pushed the manager aside. "Stay out of it. It's none of your business."
Chris stood still, coldly asking, "Didn't the incident a while ago hurt you enough? Benjamin still doesn't dare show his face; don't you get it?"
Robert raised his gun to Chris's head and asked, "Do you think I get it?"
Facing the seemingly irrational and drunk Robert, Chris was at a loss for words.
Robert gritted his teeth, pressing the gun to Chris's head, and said word by word, "Either you kneel, or I shoot you."
"You don't dare!" Chris sneered.
"Robert, do you really think no one can stop you?" Chris's friend on the left reached for Robert's arm.
Robert turned the gun and pulled the trigger.
The gunshot rang out.
The bullet pierced through Chris's friend's palm, blood gushing out.
On the steps, the crowd fell silent.
Robert grabbed Chris by the collar, eyes red, and shouted, "Do you know how many of my friends and relatives were among those caught and killed recently? Do you know?"
Chris was stunned.
"Do you think I'm drunk?" Robert slapped Chris's face. "I'm using the booze to talk to you with a gun and bullets, got it?"
Chris's face turned red, cursing himself for being so unlucky today, running into such a reckless maniac.
"Chris, I have no other demands today, just asking if you can kneel." Robert pointed to the ground and suddenly shouted, "One!"
Chris clenched his fists, staring at Robert without saying a word.
"Two!" Robert's chest heaved, his finger already on the trigger.
Chris's expression changed. He glanced at the people around him and said softly to Robert, "Robert, Maple Street is only so big. Can you give yourself a chance?"
"What chance? If I don't knock you down with the gun today, you'll beat me tomorrow. Is that a chance?" Robert shouted, "Can you kneel?"
Chris's head buzzed from the shouting, and he glanced again at the people around him.
"Come on, stand straight, and I'll shoot you three times."
"Robert!" Seeing he was serious, Chris instinctively pushed the gun away. "Fine, I give up."
Hearing this, Robert tilted his head back, smiling at Chris.
Chris's face was so red it seemed like it would bleed, his chest heaving violently.
"See the south side? Kneel over there." Robert pointed to the left.
"Fine." Chris smiled, pushed Robert aside, and knelt on the ground with a thud, his back straight, shouting, "Robert, are you satisfied with my current posture?"
Robert smiled, patting Chris's head. "Bow!"
Chris bent over and tapped the ground three times.
"Fuck, your posture is quite perfunctory, but I'm satisfied. Chris, you know how to read people." Robert patted Chris's head twice, turned, and walked down the steps, shouting, "Let's go."
With that, the two brothers who came with him put their right hands in their coats and backed away from the entrance.
After getting in the car, Robert spat on the road and shouted to Chris, "Go back and tell Terry, the Anderson family will rise!"
A few minutes later, in the car.
The driver, gripping the steering wheel, asked the sleepy Robert, "You were too impulsive. Chris is a man of status. What if he hadn't knelt today?"
"If you think about something three times, even if you're not hesitant, you'll become hesitant," Robert replied, tilting his head. "Why think so much? If he didn't kneel, I'd shoot him. I have the gun; what am I afraid of?"
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