Chapter 78: Fast, Accurate, Ruthless

Murphy ordered a dozen beers and kept toasting with James Franco. Alcohol could bring two people closer, and lately, Murphy had been under a lot of pressure, so this was a good way to vent.

As the night progressed, the bar became livelier, with more and more people entering. Looking down from the second floor, Murphy noticed that almost all the seats on the first floor were occupied. Many people were coming up the stairs to find suitable seats on the second floor. Just as Murphy finished another bottle of beer, a bespectacled chubby guy walked over and sat at the table behind James Franco.

Unlike the others, he was alone, sitting with his back to James Franco, seeming in a bad mood. Murphy faintly heard him order a bottle of vodka.

James Franco put down his beer bottle and pointed at Murphy. "You think you're hiding it well, but I can see through you? You're just fooling around with naive girls like Kerry Mulligan."

He reeked of alcohol, but Murphy didn't mind. Both of them were drinking heavily, and Murphy retorted, "You're clever, almost got yourself castrated by a naive girl!"

He emphasized the word "castrated" with disdain. "If I hadn't stopped her, you'd be missing your manhood by now!"

Not content with that, Murphy burped and added, "You'd save a step if you decided to have gender reassignment surgery!"

Clearly, he had had a bit too much to drink.

James Franco's face showed a hint of embarrassment. "I...I..."

He swallowed some saliva and tried to defend himself. "We were rehearsing!"

Their voices were raised due to the alcohol, but the bar was already quite noisy, so no one paid attention to their conversation.

"You, Jim!"

Even though he was drunk, Murphy didn't forget why he was there. Pointing his finger at James Franco, he continued, "You're an ungrateful pedophile!"

"Me?" James Franco widened his eyes, clearly also quite drunk. "What does me being a pedophile have to do with you? It's not like you're involved..."

"If I wasn't involved," Murphy interrupted him directly, emphasizing, "you'd be missing your manhood by now!"

"You..." James Franco had just taken a sip of his drink and almost choked on it. He quickly swallowed it and raised his voice, "Even if I lost my manhood, I wouldn't fall for your tricks again!"

"You admit you're gutless?" Murphy sneered twice. "I know why you don't want to join my crew; it's because Kerry Mulligan is there, and you're afraid she'll castrate you."

"I..." James Franco straightened up. "Me...me, afraid of her?"

Although he spoke loudly, anyone could tell he lacked confidence.

Murphy shook his head. "You're a spineless coward! I wouldn't be surprised if you'd been abused by other underage girls."

James Franco slammed the table hard, making a loud noise. He shouted angrily, "That's not true!"

His loud voice attracted the attention of many people around, who looked at James Franco with curiosity.

"You son of a b****..." James Franco's voice rose even louder as he stood up, glaring angrily at Franco.

The chubby guy who had been sitting behind James Franco stood up, his face red from drinking. Obviously, he had also had quite a bit to drink. He stared angrily at Franco.

It seemed like he had been holding back for a long time. With a voice as loud as James Franco's, he shouted, "You f****** b****, if you don't shut up, I'll shove your head up your a**!"

"Me?" James Franco's mouth spat out a string of curses, taking a step forward and grabbing the chubby guy's collar.

Both men were drunk, and the alcohol acted as a catalyst. Not backing down, the chubby guy pushed James Franco in the chest. He was obviously stronger than James Franco, pushing him back several steps until he stumbled and fell next to Murphy's table. If Murphy hadn't reached out to help, he would have fallen over.

"You son of a b****..." James Franco spat out another string of curses.

Before he could finish, the chubby guy rushed forward, reaching for the bottle on Murphy's table.

Murphy immediately stood up. No matter what, James Franco was his companion, and if he was hit with that bottle on the head, his skull would crack open, and blood and flesh would fly everywhere. He couldn't just sit by and watch James Franco get hit like that.

Just as the chubby guy picked up the bottle, Murphy moved forward much faster than him, leaning forward and throwing a heavy punch that landed squarely on the chubby guy's cheek.

Murphy wasn't skilled in any martial arts; all his fighting skills were developed from brawls in prison. His punches were nothing but

fast, accurate, and ruthless.

For some reason, the chubby guy felt like he had been hit by a raging bull on the farm. His glasses flew off, his head jerked back, and his whole body kept retreating, stumbling back several steps until he crashed into his table. He fell half on top of it.

Squinting his eyes beneath his glasses, he vaguely saw that it was Murphy's companion who had struck him. He tried to push himself up but suddenly felt dizzy, falling to the ground with a thud.

Lying on the floor, he shook his head vigorously, feeling a little better.

"What are you doing?"

A shout came from the staircase, and several security guards rushed over, separating Murphy, James Franco, and the chubby guy. The leader gestured for them to leave, and the others raised their hands as if to push them out if they didn't comply.

"We'll leave on our own." Murphy spread his hands and helped James Franco up. "Let's go."

James Franco shook off Murphy's hand and swayed forward. "I can walk. No need for your help."

Although he was drunk, he wasn't completely intoxicated. As he walked away, he glanced back at Murphy, surprise in his eyes. He hadn't expected this selfish guy to lend a hand.

Following behind James Franco, with several security guards in between, was the chubby guy. In this way, they were escorted out of the bar.

Once outside, the security guards retreated, no longer paying attention to them.