The Son-In-Law Shot to Fame (Donald and Jennifer)

Chapter 173

He then saw Donald raising the heavy grandfather clock single-handedly.

Usually, the grandfather clock could only be lifted by seven to eight strong men, but it seemed to be as light as a feather in Donald's hand.

After that, he jumped down from the truck and walked into Golden Residence to the block where Sixten was living.

Donald lifted the grandfather clock above him and looked at the thirty-third floor where the lights were still on.

As Donald gently leaped from the ground, he seemed to be flying upward as though he was a bird.

If an average person saw this, they would be shocked out of their wits.

After all, it was already rather unbelievable to see a human leap over a hundred meters into the air.

On top of that, Donald was holding a heavy grandfather clock.

On the seventeenth floor, a young man was having an intimate moment with his girlfriend in front of the window.

Suddenly, both of them rubbed their eyes.

“Darling, did you see something flying upward just now?” his girlfriend asked breathlessly.

The man was continuing doing the deed as he answered, “I'm not sure. Are you enjoying it so much that you start to hallucinate?”

On the thirty-third floor, Sixten was drinking his red wine. While he whirled the wine in the glass, his eyebrows were tightly knitted together into a frown.

As the person appointed by Tyrone to be in charge of the business in Pollerton, he was quite stressed indeed.

Tyrone was a rather odd man of turbulent emotions who had a weird fetish of only liking other people's wives. Ever since he was seventeen, he had no interest in single women and only sought after married

women.

Throughout the years, he had caused quite a great deal of trouble himself.

This time, he gave his last instructions to Sixten, saying that if the latter could not do a good job in Pollerton, he would replace Sixten with another person. Besides, Tyrone also told Sixten that either Jack or Gideon was a good candidate.

Hence, it was rather stressful for Sixten.

After heaving a sigh, he prepared to switch off the lights to go to bed.

However, at this very moment, his bulletproof windows that had security bars installed suddenly crashed into pieces.

Then, he saw a huge item flying into his apartment before it landed in front of him.

A great trepidation filled him when he took a closer look at the item, which was none other than the bronze grandfather clock.

This was the grandfather clock that Tyrone had specially made for Raymond.

When he took a closer look, he saw someone standing underneath the grandfather clock, and that man was looking at Sixten impassively as he held up the clock with one of his hands.

What the f*ck ?

Feeling as though lightning had struck him, Sixten was thunderstruck as his knees trembled.

I-Is he still a human? How is it possible for him to lift the heavy clock single-handedly ? Such a big item can't even be moved into the elevator!

Donald surveyed the room before letting out a disdainful snort. “Just as I told you before, I've brought it up to the thirty-third floor.” Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

A bad feeling instantly rose within Sixten, who staggered backward as he yelled, “Are you a human or a ghost?”

His apartment had a generous space of five hundred square meters, and each floor only consisted of one unit. Hence, no one could hear his yell right now.

“It really is quite convenient to perform a murder on the thirty-third floor,” Donald exclaimed.

Sixten was scared to the core. “What are you doing, Donald? What are you attempting to do to me? I'm appointed by Mr. Tyrone to be in charge of Pollerton. If you murder me, you'll be seen as the enemy of the Campbell clan!”

Donald let out a snort of laughter. His tone was heavily laced with disdain as he asked, “The Campbell clan?”

Thousands of thoughts raced through Sixten's mind. Just then, a sudden stroke of realization dawned on him. “Who are you?” he asked in a fearful voice.

“I'm from... Quadfield,” Donald replied softly.

A simple sentence from Donald was enough to make Sixten lose all of his energy. It was as if there were waves of terror rolling turbulently in his eyes.

There was a buffer zone which had borders with many different countries.

After the buffer zone was crossed, one could directly enter Quadfield, which was a no man's land.

As no country would like to conquer that area, Quadfield was a perpetual warzone.