Me After Meeting You

Chapter 82. SLAUGHTER BY IAN



Billy clutched his phone, and hurriedly asked Ansell, “I didn’t hear wrong, did I? Was Dr. Camille mocking us?”

At this time, even Ansell couldn’t help but want to laugh. “You didn’t hear wrong. She was indeed mocking us.”

“Damn! I’ve never been mocked like this my entire life.” As Billy said this, he picked up the phone again, and fiercely said, “Just now, you mocked me and damaged my reputation. I demand that you pay me for-”

Only then did he realize that she had already hung up.

Billy cautiously asked, “… Is this really something that Dr. Camille would do?”

Unsure, Ansell replied, “Probably. After all, she is quite smart.”

Billy called her again, and thankfully for him, Amber picked up again. However, this time, she only said a single sentence. “I’m a bit busy today, so if you have a friend who needs a diagnosis, please make an appointment. If it’s something else, then sorry, but I don’t have time.”

And then she hung up again before Billy could even get a single word in.

Billy put his hands on his hips and spun around twice as he exasperatedly loosened his collar. Ansell thought that he was about to get furious, but all Billy did afterwards was drink a full glass of water.

After he finished it in a single gulp, he said in an unnervingly calm tone, “Let’s forget about it and think of another strategy. What if we let Boss Ian mess with us after he finds out?” He then turned to look at Ansell. “Who said that Dr. Camille was going to go just now? Was it you?”

Ansell was silent for a moment before he staunchly replied, “It was you.”NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

Billy cursed, particularly indignant. “Why the hell did I ever stand up for you for something like this?”

But it was already too late, as he’d already done it. Billy was panic-stricken the entire way to the event, whereas Ian seemed to be rather calm. Even after the event was over, besides the discussion and the final wine reception that he hadn’t attended, Ian was perfectly cooperative throughout. Ansell’s father even asked his son, “That Axton fellow seems particularly easy going today. Did something happen?”

Ansell laughed dryly, and when he met up with Billy again back at the hotel, the two of them curled up in a corner, both of them shivering in fear. “I feel like something big’s about to happen.”

Their premonition was very accurate. Before they could finish commiserating, an attendant clad in white came over and said, “Mr. Ansell, Mr. Billy, Director Axton would like to invite you both over for a moment.”

This time, they didn’t go back to the venue. The attendant instead took them to the tennis court right behind the hotel. Ian was standing in the innermost court, and was just wearing a white sleeved shirt and black pants after having taken off his jacket. His right hand held a tennis racket, and his left hand was slowly and carefully rolling up his sleeves.

At his foot was a large basket, about half full with tennis balls.

When he saw the two arrive, he didn’t even raise his eyelids, only saying, “Let’s get started.”

The attendant threw Billy and Ansell a racket each, and before the two could even react, Ian had already raised his racket and sent a tennis ball smashing from the other end of the court towards them as fast as the wind.

“F*ck!” Billy’s face turned pale with fright, but he’d at least gotten some practice with this over the years. He waved his racket and barely blocked the ball.

But by the time he’d done so, the next one had already arrived.

The balls were like guided missiles, all heading towards Billy. Ansell tactfully stood to the side and passively watched their match though it would be more accurate to call it a one-sided slaughter by Ian, Billy barely able to hold his own. If he missed a return, then the balls would hit his body, all of them slamming at high speed into a particularly sensitive region. Tennis balls weren’t that heavy, and they usually wouldn’t hurt all too much, but when they all struck the same area at high speed, the resulting sensation was … hard to describe.

At any rate, Ansell didn’t want to ever experience it.

At the start, Billy was still able to return some of the balls. However, he gradually lost his strength as the beatin on ued. In the end, he felt like his hand was about to break just from trying to block Ian’s serves.

In the end, he flopped down lifelessly onto the court with his four limbs akimbo. “I’m not playing anymore! Just kill me now.”

As he finished speaking, a ball brushed by the corner of his eye. He was so scared that he screamed sharply as he rolled over to one side.

Ian ignored him, picked up his racket, and pointed at Ansell, coldly declaring, “It’s your turn.”

Ansell desperately asked, “… Can I surrender?”

The answer was no, and he ended up in an even worse condition than Billy. At least Billy exercised regularly, Ansell, on the other hand, never did anything of the sort!

Ian launched ball after ball at him. Ansell was never good with sports to begin with, and as he frantically tried to parry these attacks, besides getting hit passively, he could only … be hit passively.

But he also couldn’t give up right away because Ian would not stop until he was fully satisfied. Unfortunately, Ansell’s skills were just too lousy. Billy had lasted for over half an hour, but he couldn’t even last twenty minutes. His shoulders had been hit seventeen or eighteen times, and his face had also suffered a few blows. Once, a ball hit his left cheek so hard that he thought his teeth were going to break.

Finally unable to go any further, Ansell swiftly collapsed onto the floor. Of course, he received the same ‘splendid’ treatment of having one last ball brush past his eye.

He didn’t avoid it, and this time, the ball brushed by the corner of his eye, scraping his face. He reached out and even thought that he saw a few flecks of blood.


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