This mastiff was enormous, fully twice the size of Dahei, looking just like a red wolf—exceptionally fierce. Dahei couldn’t beat it and was pinned beneath, yelping miserably as it bit him, “Ji! Ji!”

David Thompson picked up a thick firewood stick and smashed it down hard, hitting the mastiff right on the head. The mastiff’s bloodshot eyes glared, and with a wild howl, it let go of Dahei and lunged ferociously at David Thompson.

But David Thompson was even faster. The hatchet flashed, and a front paw flew off, blood spraying everywhere. The mastiff let out a miserable cry, tumbled to the ground, and David Thompson, moving with great agility, stomped on its neck and brought the blade down hard with both hands. “Crack!” Half its head was cleaved off. The mastiff twitched twice on the ground, then lay still, blood pooling everywhere.

“Good boy, how dare you kill my dog!”

Several people surged in from outside the yard. Leading them was a tall, fat man with a face like the bottom of a pot, wild hair and beard, looking just like a wild boar standing on two legs. His bulging goldfish eyes and the thick flesh on his face made him look especially fierce. David Thompson recognized him at a glance—he was the spitting image of his son Frank Brooks, only larger.

This was none other than Head Steward Henry Brooks of the Thompson Residence. He’d heard that Brian Thompson was going to the county and, afraid he’d run off to avoid his debts, had come over to put some pressure on him. Unexpectedly, his own dog had run ahead and ended up dead at the hands of this little brat, making him furious, his bulging eyes blazing with rage.

The four servants behind him stared in shock at the child in the yard. The steward’s fierce dog, which even dared to fight wolves, had actually been killed by a little kid. This child was something else!

David Thompson was a bit puzzled himself. Killing the dog just now had been instinctive, but the speed and precision of his strike, the clean, methodical way he wielded the blade—could it be that he’d trained in martial arts before?

He calmly watched the uninvited guests and called out to Dahei, “Dahei, come here!”

Dahei, bleeding from his front leg, limped over to hide behind his young master.

“Brian Thompson, you damned dog, get out here!” Henry Brooks shouted viciously into the house.

“My father isn’t here. You all get out of my house!”

“Get out?”

Henry Brooks was so angry he laughed, grinning menacingly as he stepped closer to David Thompson. “You little bastard killed my beloved dog. You think that’s the end of it? How are you going to answer to me?”

Seeing him approach, David Thompson suddenly charged forward, slashing his hatchet straight at the man’s fat, round belly. The strike was so fast that if David Thompson hadn’t meant it as a warning, Henry Brooks would have been gutted on the spot.

Henry Brooks turned pale with fright and stumbled back several steps, shouting to his men, “This is rebellion! Grab him and beat him!”

The four servants, wielding whips and sticks, surrounded him from all sides. Although David Thompson was fast, he was still just a six-year-old child—how could he possibly take on four grown men?

Just then, someone suddenly roared from outside the door, “You bullies, picking on a child—have you no shame!”

A burly man strode in, holding a white waxwood staff. It was the neighbor, Uncle Harris. Earlier, Mrs. Harris had sensed something was wrong and hurried to fetch her son.

The four servants all recognized him and quickly backed off, guarding Henry Brooks. One servant whispered in Henry Brooks’s ear, “That’s the daredevil Charles Harris, a real tough guy.”

Of course Henry Brooks knew how formidable Charles Harris was. He figured his men wouldn’t be able to handle him, so he snorted coldly, “I won’t fight you. We’ll settle this by reason.”

He pointed at David Thompson. “This little brat killed my dog. I want him to answer for it!”

David Thompson glared at him. “You let your dog charge into my house and try to kill me. I should be the one settling accounts with you!”

John Harris waved his hand, stopping David Thompson from speaking. He stepped in front of David Thompson and said, “Steward Brooks, we all know how things work. Sure, you should respect the owner when beating a dog, but if the owner doesn’t control the dog, then the dog’s death is on him. Besides, the other party is just a six-year-old child. No matter where you go, you won’t win this argument. Don’t you agree?”

Henry Brooks nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t argue with a little kid. I’ll settle this with his father.”

Henry Brooks swiftly pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and waved it. “This is an IOU written by his father, in black and white, with a handprint. He owes me, Henry Brooks, fifty strings of cash, to be repaid within a month. Today is still within that month, and I want my money back today!”

Chapter 0007: Repaying Evil with Justice (Part 1)

Charles Harris was a bit troubled. Since there was an IOU, paying back debts was only right. But Brian Thompson had gone to the county—how could the money be repaid?

“Steward Brooks, Brian has gone to the county. Why don’t you come back another day?”

Henry Brooks gave a sinister smile. “I know he went to dodge his debts. I could come back another day, but today my dog is dead, and that complicates things. How about this—Young Mr. Harris, you be my guarantor. This dog is worth thirty strings of cash. Together with the fifty on the IOU, that’s eighty strings in total. If Brian Thompson doesn’t pay, you pay for him!”