Chapter 373: Chapter 373: A Slap in the Face
Kyle Keaton had been anxious ever since the escort mission from Westmarch began.
No matter how much he tried to reassure himself that July Quinn was just an ordinary woman, and it wouldn’t be a big deal even if she died.
Man’s three joys: promotion, fortune, and the death of a wife.
And with Thomas Grant and Wendy Tierney, the ace vanguard war generals of The Keaton Family, on the task, this escort mission was supposed to be foolproof.
But eventually, he received a distress signal from Thomas Grant.
At that moment, he felt his heart leap into his throat.
He immediately dispatched other small units of The Keaton Family’s vanguard war generals.
Not only that, but he also used his influence at the border, mobilizing officials to rush to the coordinates sent by Thomas Grant’s distress signal.
Simultaneously, he also personally set out for the coordinates.
Because he realized that his affection for July Quinn seemed to surpass everything.
Even if she might have cheated that night, and even if she infuriatingly gifted him a departure package after cheating.
He felt he could accept it, provided she wouldn’t die.
The thought of never seeing her bright and bold smile again made Kyle Keaton feel as if someone had torn a piece of his heart out.
July Quinn, don’t die!
Otherwise, I could never forgive you for a lifetime.
His mind screamed as he hurriedly dialed Thomas Grant’s satellite phone to understand the current situation.
Thankfully, Thomas Grant answered the call immediately.
He quickly conveyed his arrangements and deployments, desperately hoping to hear the answer he wanted from Thomas Grant.
But it seemed God misheard his prayers, as he received this reply from Thomas Grant.
"Currently, the Alpha Mercenary Corps hasn’t taken extreme measures, and Darren isn’t dead yet. But they’ve set their eyes on the mission’s accompanying director."
Kyle Keaton felt his blood freeze instantly: "Whose idea did you say they have?"
Director?
If he remembered correctly, July Quinn’s title on this mission was the director of Rosewell Hospital.
Could it be...
Kyle Keaton’s speculation was eventually confirmed by Thomas Grant.
"It’s the director of their Rosewell Hospital, a girl named July Quinn."
At that moment, Kyle Keaton felt the sky was crashing down.
However, before Kyle Keaton could digest this news, he heard Thomas Grant on the other end of the phone gasp in shock.
"What’s wrong?"
Kyle Keaton’s heart jumped to his throat.
Thomas Grant was dumbfounded for a while before whispering, "July, July Quinn slapped a mercenary!"
Indeed, just moments ago, after finishing the last sip of her instant noodles, July Quinn suddenly walked toward the mercenary who had flipped the table.
The mercenary probably thought someone like July Quinn, such a stunner, had no real threat, so he smiled slyly at her, only to be slapped by July Quinn.
"Didn’t your mother teach you that wasting food is shameful? Let me teach you then."
July Quinn’s slap was strong enough to knock the over-six-foot mercenary to the ground, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth.
This instantly made the atmosphere tense and hostile.
All members of the Alpha Mercenary Corps almost aimed their guns at July Quinn.
While the vanguard war generals of The Keaton Family in the corner were even more infuriated.
"Is this woman crazy?" Some vanguard war generals couldn’t help but whisper.
Even someone directly mocked, "Her mom probably didn’t tell her that people with tattoos are not to be messed with."
"Is she brainless? Thinking everyone is like her former suitors, letting her slap around at will?"
Wendy Tierney said nothing, but the ridicule in her eyes was unmistakable.
After all, God is fair; he gave July Quinn outstanding beauty but a deficient brain.
So she chooses this moment to hit people, as if dying isn’t fast enough!
Indeed, nobody thought well of July Quinn for hitting someone at this time.
Even Owen Shaw, who was closest to her, quickly tugged at July Quinn’s sleeve: "July, don’t be impulsive. These are desperados..."
One sweep of their guns, and they’d all become beehives.