“Mother, I’m doomed this time,” George King couldn’t open his eyes, crying out in misery in his heart.

Chapter 10 Unexpected Effects

The wind suddenly stopped. Only then did George King hear the gleeful, mocking voice of the plump Henry Brooks, who chuckled and said, “Everyone says he’s been beaten silly, yet you still want to mess with him—he’s a fool, can’t even tell what’s a test and what’s a real plea. Look, he even dared to hit the county’s chief constable—if that’s not foolish, what is?”

George King struggled to open his eyes. The gust just now had left them dry and sore. He blinked hard several times and suddenly realized his vision was blocked. Right at the tip of his nose was… a small fist. The skin on this fist was quite fair, with not a single callus on the fingers—a pair of hands that had never done hard labor.

But it was this very fist that had nearly sent him to the underworld just now.

Hmm, his eyes had just returned to normal, so things looked a bit distorted. George King felt that the fist hovering at his nose seemed to radiate a bone-chilling cold, its size proportion terrifying… Cold sweat instantly drenched George King. He cautiously moved his arms and legs, and seeing that the owner of the fist didn’t object, he very slowly and extremely carefully pulled his nose back from in front of the fist.

Once he was at a safe distance, George King found his legs a bit weak. The ground before him seemed uneven, and he staggered several times before steadying himself. A few yamen runners, seeing this, hurried over to support him…

Once his footing was secure, George King spoke with a sob in his voice, “Mother, what a vicious person—even when he’s a fool, he’s this fierce. If he ever regains his senses, who knows how much worse he’ll be?”

Henry Brooks laughed heartily, “Vicious, yes, but still rather polite—he’s literate, a scholar.”

George King looked sympathetically at David Ford’s burly figure. “You just said he ruined his brain by taking too much knockout drug… Mother, so knockout drugs have this effect too, making people super strong. Maybe I should take knockout drugs for a month as well—wonder if I’d become as strong as him?”

Henry Brooks chuckled, “If someone’s force-fed knockout drugs for a month by kidnappers, they can’t even remember their own name or where they’re from. If you want to be like him, go ahead and take knockout drugs for a month… Just be sure to tell me in advance. From then on, I’ll take care of that tofu beauty for you… Don’t worry, I don’t mind the trouble.”

The subject of their discussion, David Ford, looked frustrated. “So disrespectful—how can you talk about someone’s intelligence right in front of them? Everyone says I’m a fool, hmph, you just can’t comprehend my wisdom… Fine, I can’t explain it to you anyway.”

George King slapped his thigh and laughed, “Isn’t that just being a fool? Intelligence—what kind of word is that?… Enough, let’s ignore his nonsense. Young Master, release the master of Peach Blossom Temple first, then let’s go check out the Lotus Courtyard.”

David Ford interjected, “Outrageous—why release the temple master? Those kidnappers have been renting rooms at Peach Blossom Temple for years. I don’t believe the master didn’t notice anything strange. Without the temple’s cover…”

George King impatiently cut David Ford off, “You’re a fool, I won’t argue with you. Young Master should know the truth—priests and priestesses, Daoist matters are managed by special Daoist supervisory offices. If we commoners meddle in temple affairs and those Daoists report us, His Majesty the Daoist Emperor won’t let us off lightly. We ordinary folks don’t need to pick a fight with those charlatans.”

As soon as he finished, George King suddenly remembered who he was talking to. He quickly glanced at Henry Brooks beside him, subtly edged closer to Young Master, and whispered, “Young Master, is it okay that I scolded him like that?”

Henry Brooks’s legs were a bit weak too, but he refused to show it, forcing himself to answer calmly, “It’s fine. He may be fierce, but he knows to protect the young and help the weak. When he saw those kidnapped children, he still felt compassion—he’s normal.”

After a pause, Henry Brooks glanced at the expressionless David Ford and concluded, “In short, this fool is a good person.”

George King nodded heavily. “What a sin. Who knows what’s in those kidnappers’ hearts? Everyone has parents, and from childhood, they’re the precious darlings of their families. When they’re snatched away, no matter how heartbroken their parents are… These girls, whether sold to brothels or into rich households as slaves, from then on are trampled in the mud. It’s despicable.”

As he spoke, George King walked toward the main house, leaving David Ford still standing in the courtyard.

Standing at the doorway, he glanced casually inside and asked, “The room’s been searched—who did it?”

From the courtyard, David Ford answered bluntly, “Me!”

George King’s face changed. He opened his mouth in anger, but immediately closed it again, replacing it with a smile and gently asked, “Why did John Ford search through the things inside?”

David Ford answered honestly, “I found the kidnappers’ register. It records the origins, abduction locations, times, and handlers of most of the kidnapped girls… all very clearly. The register is now with Miss Harper.”

Henry Brooks asked in surprise, “Most? What do you mean?”