The Luckiest Dumb Doctor - Chapter 355

Chapter 355: Chapter 355 Trouble_1

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That was close!

Donald Simmons let out a long sigh of relief, ungracefully collapsing on the ground, gasping for air in great heaves.

So painful!

Aiden Clark, I hadn’t expected this kid to be so fierce.

Donald Simmons still felt some defiance in his heart, but he had to admit that he was indeed no match for Greg Jensen.

His annoyance was mainly because Greg Jensen was too young!

If his opponent had been an older man, he might not have felt so upset; losing to a young man like Greg Jensen was particularly galling for him.

While Donald Simmons was thinking this, he suddenly heard a “thump” from beside him. He turned his head to look and his eyes widened instantly.

He saw Mick Simmons kneeling beside him in a proper manner, then bowing his head respectfully with a trembling voice, he said:

“Mr… Mr. Jensen, I’m sorry, we brothers were blind, please be magnanimous and spare us.”

“Antonio, what are you doing?”

Donald Simmons exclaimed with wide eyes.

He hadn’t seen the hole created by the True Qi and didn’t know that Greg Jensen was a Grandmaster.

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So he was puzzled; he had been defeated by Greg Jensen, and it made sense if he begged for mercy himself. But Mick Simmons hadn’t engaged in the fight, why was he kneeling before Greg Jensen?

However, Mick Simmons had no appreciation for his brother’s bewilderment. Instead, he turned back and glared at him, feigning anger as he said:

“Mr. Jensen is a near-Grandmaster, aren’t you going to apologize to Mr. Jensen quickly?”

“Near… near-Grandmaster?”

Donald Simmons’s face turned instantly pale, his lips quivered, and he couldn’t speak clearly. Frightened, he lifted his head to look at Greg Jensen.

“You… you’re a near-Grandmaster?”

He wasn’t a fool; realizing he had offended a Grandmaster, he couldn’t help but take a sharp intake of cold air.

It’s over, now there’s going to be big trouble!

At this moment, all the oddities he had previously found strange suddenly made sense.

Why Greg Jensen had Fragrant Spirit Grass — because the legend claimed that when used in medicine, it could greatly increase the chances of attaining enlightenment.

Why Ethan Locke’s minions at the Ming period strength seemed so feeble? It was because they encountered Greg Jensen, the near-Grandmaster, wasn’t it?

And why would Jay Brent, a big shot in the criminal world, willingly stay by Ethan Locke’s side as an undercover for Greg Jensen?

Because Greg Jensen is a near-Grandmaster!

Discovering that he had lost to a near-Grandmaster, Donald Simmons now found it reasonable.

The only unreasonable thing was, how did someone as young as Greg Jensen become a near-Grandmaster?

…

Snowflakes swirled in the sky.

The Simmons brothers were covered with a layer of snow, but they remained still as statues, kneeling on the ground without moving.

Unless Greg Jensen spoke, they dared not move or speak, and they even barely dared to breathe heavily.

Around them, there was silence, with only the occasional howling of the wind.

Greg Jensen stood facing the wind, hands clasped behind his back, expressionless, bowing his head slightly. He glanced at the Simmons brothers, and his brow slightly furrowed.

If you don’t finish off a snake, it will only prove harmful later!

He thought that these two should be killed on the spot, then dragged to Peach Blossom Mountain and buried in a secluded place.

But out of consideration for the Ford family, he hesitated to strike.

For a moment, he found it difficult to decide.

…

The wind whistled mournfully, and the biting north wind was sharp as a knife, penetrating even the thickest down jackets in the blink of an eye.

Mick Simmons, kneeling on the ground, was still relatively okay as he forced his True Qi to circulate, warding off the cold. Meanwhile, Donald Simmons was having a harder time.

He had been severely beaten by Greg Jensen, sustaining serious internal injuries. He may not have been at the brink of death, but he also couldn’t muster the slightest bit of True Qi.

At this moment, he only felt numbness in his hands and feet, as if his body was going to freeze solid.

But still, he dared not move.

At first it was okay, but as he calmed down, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of fright afterwards.

That was a half-step Grandmaster!

If Greg Jensen had slaughtered him then and there, the Simmons family wouldn’t have dared to raise the slightest objection.

Cold sweat soaked his back, and when the chilly wind blew, it was bone-chillingly cold, causing Donald Simmons to shiver uncontrollably.

Just when he felt like he might freeze to death there, with his brain starting to go numb, Greg Jensen’s voice suddenly rang out.

“Scram, I don’t have time to deal with you today.”

Donald Simmons stiffened his neck and, with difficulty, lifted his head, his face lighting up with joy as he looked at Greg Jensen and said, “Mr. Jensen, you’re really letting me go?”

Greg Jensen gave him a cold glance and, without a word, turned and left.

“Big brother, Mr. Jensen has left; you should get up first before we talk.”

Mick Simmons came to his senses, quickly stood up, and then pulled Donald Simmons up from the ground.

Both brothers stood up but still didn’t dare to leave, their gazes following the departing figure, standing there in a daze.

At that moment, the figure suddenly stopped, and through the swirling snow, a cold voice came through, “Stay home and behave, I’ll come for a visit personally after the New Year.”

Both brothers shuddered at the same time.

Mick Simmons took a deep breath and said loudly, “The Simmons family will be ready to receive you at any moment, eagerly awaiting Mr. Jensen’s arrival.”

“Mr. Jensen, please have a safe trip!”

Donald Simmons also respectfully added a line.

Greg Jensen paused for a moment and, after a few breaths, walked away into the snow.

Watching the figure disappear, Donald Simmons felt as if all his strength had been drained, his legs went weak, and he almost collapsed to the ground.

Mick Simmons hurriedly gave him a hand and asked, “Big brother, are you okay?”

“No… No problem.”

Donald Simmons shook his head, swallowed dryly, slowly turned his head, and showed a smile uglier than a cry, his hoarse voice asking, “Antonio, have we… have we caused a huge disaster?”

Mick Simmons sighed and silently shook his head.

Their previous attitude towards Greg Jensen was anything but polite; in fact, they hadn’t taken him seriously at all.

However Greg Jensen decided to retaliate, the Simmons family would have to bear it, and none of their friends were likely to be willing to help.

Who would blame the Simmons family for not recognizing a Grandmaster and recklessly provoking one, essentially seeking their own death?

No one would want to provoke a Grandmaster for the sake of the Simmons family!

“Let’s go back and prepare a generous gift for a trip to the Ford family,” Mick Simmons pondered aloud.

“Could Uncle Ford still help us?”

“If it really comes down to it, we’ll have Dad step in personally.”

Mick Simmons also felt unsure, Bradley Ford had come with good intentions to mediate, and they had rudely mocked him before seeking trouble with Greg Jensen.

Now, having failed to find the trouble they sought, they had to ask Bradley Ford to mediate for them, which seemed nearly absurd.

This was a massive embarrassment for the Simmons family!

Mick Simmons sighed and shook his head, saying, “What else can we do? If we have no choice, we’ll just have to swallow our pride and ask for help.”

“Let’s go back first and discuss it there.”

The two brothers got into the car and rushed back home without delay.

Fraser Simmons was at home reading a book when he saw the two return, and a smile involuntarily crossed his face.

“You’re back, how did it go?”

Donald Simmons looked at Mick Simmons beside him, his head drooping down, showing a completely dispirited demeanor.

Fraser Simmons was startled and asked in confusion, “What happened?”

“Big trouble!”

Mick Simmons threw himself heavily onto the sofa, collapsing there, letting out a long breath, and said, “Dad, we’ve made a mess.”

“Made a mess? What kind of mess?”

Fraser Simmons didn’t take it seriously and picked up a watering can next to him, continuing to water a newly sprouted pot of golden pothos on the coffee table.

Mick Simmons spread his mouth into a bitter smile and said, “Greg Jensen… is a half-step Grandmaster.”