The Supreme Soldier in the City
Chapter 410 - 417 Get out!

Chapter 410: Chapter 417 Get out!

"Emma, Mr. Willis said he wants to keep you. All the debts I owe will be wiped out. He’ll give me Three Thousand Dollars a month and cover all your living expenses. What do you think?"

As soon as they entered, Emma Campbell’s father spilled Bob Cooke’s entire proposition to her, then glanced at James Brown. Earlier, James had defiantly claimed he had no money, so her father intentionally brought this up to provoke him. Since his daughter was now with James, he expected some money to come his way as filial repayment.

Emma’s face turned beet red in anger as she snapped, "You agreed to this?"

"I haven’t agreed yet, but the problem still needs resolving. I can’t repay the debt, and he’s constantly harassing me for payment. What can I do?" As he spoke, Emma’s father shot another look at James.

James felt profoundly sorry for Emma at that moment—a wonderful girl saddled with such a pathetic excuse for a father. If Emma weren’t present, he might have pinned this man to the ground for another severe beating.

Bob Cooke hadn’t anticipated Emma’s father would spill the details so candidly, leaving him somewhat awkward. Nevertheless, since it was out in the open, he shamelessly grinned at Emma and said, "Emma, stick with me and I’ll buy you whatever you want. I’ll pay for your college and take care of your father too. Isn’t this the perfect arrangement?"

"Despicable!" Emma fury erupted as she roared, her fragile femininity overcome by sheer indignation—a testament to the depth of her anger.

Bob Cooke, undeterred by shame, continued boldly, "I’m doing this for your own good. Think about it—how much does your education cost each year? Your dad can’t possibly afford it, and I..."

Emma cut him off sharply, declaring, "Big Brother Brown can help me—I don’t need your concern. The money my dad owes you, I’ll pay back. Now, leave!"

Emma initially wanted her father to face the consequences of his actions, but once Bob Cooke shifted his intentions onto her, she couldn’t stand idly by. She resolved to take responsibility for the debt herself.

Emma’s father instantly lit up in joy, eagerly saying, "Daughter, that’s wonderful! Hurry up and pay the money back so I can enjoy some peace and quiet."

Bob Cooke’s face darkened. He growled, "Fine. Repay me now. As soon as I have the money—Four Thousand Dollars, not a penny less—I’ll leave. But if you can’t produce it...? Hmph!"

Bob Cooke’s expression turned hostile, while the three lackeys behind him glared menacingly, putting on a show of intimidation aimed at Emma.

Emma’s chest heaved violently with anger. But when James held her hand in his, her heart instantly calmed. She turned to him with an apologetic smile and said, "Big Brother Brown, I..."

James smiled faintly and said, "Alright, let me take care of this."

Emma nodded without saying much; James was her man. When trouble arose, she felt no qualms letting him handle matters.

Bob Cooke sneered, "Alright. The kid’s got guts, huh? Now cough up Four Thousand Dollars—every last cent—or I walk away."

Emma’s father’s eyes widened in outrage. "I only borrowed Twenty Thousand Dollars! How did it jump to Four Thousand?"

Bob Cooke glared at him and barked, "Nonsense! You go to a bank for loans, you’ll pay interest. You think borrowing from me doesn’t include interest?"

Emma’s father protested, "Even so, the interest doesn’t add up to that much! Even high-interest loans aren’t this excessive!"

"Because I said so! Hmph! Mr. Campbell, I’m being lenient by only demanding Four Thousand. If I weren’t, it wouldn’t end there. Now pay up! If you don’t, your daughter can cover the debt for you."

Bob Cooke deliberately targeted James, trying to scare him off. If the "young punk" got frightened and left, he’d claim Emma for himself. If James coughed up money, Bob would still get a windfall. It was a win-win in his scheming mind.

Above all, he belittled James’s capacity for retaliation, figuring the young man was easy prey.

James stared coldly at Bob Cooke and said, "Your appetite is truly insatiable."

"Quit your yapping and hand over the money, you punk. Let me tell you—I’ve got connections in both the light and the dark. If I want to ruin you, I can do it effortlessly."

Suddenly, James moved. With a single step forward, he reached Bob Cooke’s side, swung his right arm, and landed a punch precisely above Bob’s stomach. The blow wasn’t excessively hard, but its force was expertly placed, instantly inducing severe gastric spasms.

Bob felt as though his abdomen was being stabbed repeatedly—the sharp pain made sweat pour down his face. He opened his mouth to curse, but the agony rendered him speechless. Both hands clutched his stomach, his body hunched over, narrowly steadying himself against one of his lackeys to avoid collapsing outright.

"Your appetite’s too big. I had to show you that gluttony comes with consequences," James said icily, before slamming his elbow down, sending Bob sprawling onto the floor.

James’s swift and decisive strikes left Bob writhing on the ground like a dog—while the three henchmen stood too stunned to process what had happened.

"Damn!" one of Bob’s underlings cursed, charging toward James ferociously with a roar of "Kill that punk!"

The other two henchmen snapped out of their daze. Though not seasoned fighters, they had spent enough time with Bob to feel compelled to act. Ensuring Bob’s safety was imperative for securing their place in his circle. Facing a lone opponent, they mistakenly assumed overwhelming him would be easy.

But they overestimated themselves. In one explosive kick, James sent the first attacker flying, rolling across the floor. In a swift follow-up, a punch landed squarely on the second lackey’s face, leaving him bleeding and sprawled on the ground.

The last henchman froze mid-charge, his upraised fist stalling as his fear overtook him upon glimpsing his comrades’ downfall.

"Scram!" James bellowed, sparing him further blows.

The man flinched violently, howling in panic before bolting out the door. Characters like him were bullies in name only—quick to crumble when faced with real opposition.

"You... You dare lay hands on me? This isn’t over!" Bob yelled frantically as he stumbled toward the door, but his retreating steps revealed his lack of conviction.

"Still here?" James’s cold gaze flashed brilliantly.

Bob shivered visibly before turning to flee, only to trip on the Campbell Family’s doorstep. Falling flat on his face, he let out a miserable yelp.

His two remaining accomplices desperately fled, only to collide with Bob, creating a chaotic pile-up before scrambling off as if their lives depended on it. They left behind nothing but a scene of downright humiliation.

"Son-in-law, I knew you’d solve this for me," Emma’s father cheered exuberantly.

James coldly regarded him, his voice measured. "So you do understand. But I suppose your memory isn’t very good."

The cheer on Emma’s father’s face vanished in an instant. He shrank back, collapsing into a chair. Only now did he realize his earlier calculations had been naive. Just because his daughter was with James didn’t mean he could manipulate James. His lips trembled as he stammered, "I... I remember. I remember now."

"Hm. Let’s hope you do," James said calmly before turning back to Emma, pulling her into a comforting embrace. His voice softened. "Don’t worry. It’s over."

Emma leaned into James, choking out sobs. "Big Brother Brown, ugh—"

"Don’t cry now. I believe your father will improve. Let’s give him some time, have a little faith," James said gently. He shot Emma’s father a sharp glance.

That glance felt like ice to Emma’s father—his body chilled to the core. Trembling, he stammered, "Emma, I promise I’ll change. This time, I truly mean it."

Emma had long lost all faith in her father. Feeling utterly dejected, she turned to retreat into her room, unwilling to exchange another word.

James followed her. Emma’s father attempted to join them but was met with the slam of the door shutting him out. Left standing helplessly outside.

Most sons-in-law feared their fathers-in-law might disapprove of them, but in this household, the dynamic was reversed—Emma’s father treated James like a venomous snake.

Inside the room, James comforted Emma until her mood improved. While his actions earlier seemed brutal, Emma cherished his sincere devotion to her.

Later, when they emerged, Emma’s father was already cooking. Wearing an apron, he suddenly appeared more diligent. Smiling ingratiatingly, he said, "Emma, J—James, I’m making a couple dishes. Let’s eat at home tonight."

James didn’t refuse. Despite Emma’s father being cowardly and unprincipled, he was still her father, and James wanted to preserve her dignity.

Emma’s father was momentarily thrilled but didn’t stay pleased for long. A group of more than ten people barged through the door, led by a raging Bob Cooke. He shouted, "Punk! If I don’t skin you alive today, I swear I’m no longer Bob!"