Sheffield from the south glared at Doug who took all his attention away.

Those guys who were like stone statues when listening to his speech saw a piece of rag shaking their bodies, and came alive like a gargoyle shaking off the stone chips on his body. This was simply an insult to him.

Is he not as good as a piece of rag? Sheffield is furious.

Doug clearly introduced the rules of "Monopoly" in his mouth, which was neither boring nor boring. The burdens and complaints that he trembled from time to time would make the gentlemen present smile.

Using such a technique as a skill to attract attention is not as high as the speech that was just now without any sense of substitution.

After Doug roughly explained the rules, he encouraged the audience to play a game.

"Practice is the best teacher. After hearing what I said, you may still feel confused. Since that's the case, why not play a game by yourself?"

A young gentleman rubbed forward, and the two gentlemen looked at the simple canvas and thought of a magnificent picture.

Under Doug's organization, six players who participated in the game were immersed in the game after only throwing a round of dice.

Others who did not squeeze in due to face were somewhat annoyed, while others asked if Thompson could sell his "Monopoly" to him.

Thompson subconsciously looked at Doug, and Doug nodded slightly.

He opened his mouth and said, "One dollar per serving, if you like..."

"I want one!" An eagle drew an arc and fell into Thomson's pocket accurately.

The person who got the canvas bag opened the tight wiring harness, expanded the canvas, found a few things as chess pieces, and started the game.

The remaining few people saw that two gangs had already started playing "Monopoly", and they were not willing to be outdone, so they bought a copy from Thompson and started playing.

Before Thompson could come back to his senses, the remaining sets in his hands were sold out in short order.

"Is it so exaggerated?" Thompson and Gilbert looked at each other, both of them were shocked.

Sheffield originally had the intention to arouse two of these people through his perfect speech, but... he saw that these people were all possessed, immersed in the game, and gave up this idea dejectedly.

He lowered his head and was depressed, and his actions of jumping off the table were like stray cats, without any sound.

He was distraught and disappointed by the stupidity of these people.

What's fun about a tabletop game?

Comparing to the great cause of plantations in America?

He raised his head, frowned his forehead and stared at Doug, and his resentment seemed to turn into substance. The burst of negative energy seemed to distort the space.

"You! What does it mean!" Sheffield, older and taller than Doug, walked towards Doug, looking down at the threat of words.

"Nothing." Doug spread his hands towards Sheffield in a fierce manner. "What can I do if they like?"

"They like it, what can I do...

They like it, what can I do...

They like it, what can I do..."

Doug's voice echoed and vibrated in his mind.

They like the rag and don’t like my speech. Do they mean that my speech is not as good as a rag?

The more Shawfield thought about it, the more angry he became, and his fists were clenched tightly.

Critical weapons cannot replace criticism of weapons.

Sheffield, who had a clear understanding of his eloquence, knew that he could not say anything to Doug, and he also clearly saw the contrast between himself and Doug's figure.

I am much stronger than the damn guy in front of me.

Therefore, he had already planned to use his physical strength to eliminate the people who were distressing him.

He punched, and the attack line was straight, fast and fierce. His movements were sudden. He believed that most people could not escape his straight punch without defense at such a close distance. What's more, this little ghost in front of him weighed at least forty pounds lighter than him.

The imagination is beautiful, but unfortunately he despised Doug.

Although Doug's physical strength is not strong, he is not a fool. The difference between humans and animals is whether they can create and use tools. He is sensitive to things around him like a rabbit, and he has no idea of ​​using fists to break the force with force.

He did not attempt to dodge, but lifted his right hand as fast as possible, and stabbed Sheffield's lower body with the civilization stick in his hand.

One inch long and one inch stronger.

The bullets fired by the firearm can be regarded as an extension of the length of the firearm.

Although Doug's arm length is slightly shorter than Sheffield, the length of the civilization stick must be longer than him.

I fantasized about hitting Doug on the cheek, watching Sheffield splattering blood and teeth flying across, and suddenly felt a sharp pain in her lower body.

The fist he swung was less than an inch away from Doug's face, and the wind brought by the high-speed fist had already blown the fluff on Doug's face. But this short inch distance seemed to have become a clear sky and would never make any progress again.

Sheffield fell down, covering his lower body with his hands, thrusting on the ground like shrimps.

Doug's right index finger gently touched, and hesitated back and forth twice on the trigger of the Civilization Stick, but gave up hooking his fingers, making the guy who was overestimating his abilities in front of him frantically beat him.

Although that would be very pleasant for a while, it would cause too much trouble and delay his making money.

Although violence is exciting, you should not be addicted to (harmony).

Doug forced himself to restrain his thoughts that made his blood boil.

Sheffield, a guy weighing 180 pounds, fell to the ground uncontrollably, and naturally there would be no sound.

People who are immersed in the pleasure of "Monopoly" stretch their necks and raise their heads like groundhogs, looking at the place where the sound comes from.

"It's okay! I'm not dead!" said the person closest to him.

The other people who were looking around also sat back with peace of mind and started playing games.

In today's era, both the United Kingdom and the United States, the southern and northern United States have the same martial ethics.

Even students from top American institutions like Yale will not be dizzy when they see blood.

On the contrary, the vast majority of Yale students still retain the tradition of European aristocratic duels.

Fighting is as common as taking two steps when you have nothing to do.

They have long been tired of this southerner who has been quiet for the afternoon but always speaks the same thing.

Now Doug helps them shut up and can only roll and moan on the ground, and they agree with Doug more.

They were originally only interested in games, but now they are also interested in Doug.

"Brother Doug, did you design this game?"

"It's me."

“What was your purpose in designing this game?”

Before Doug could reply, Sheffield on the ground whispered, "What's the purpose...it's not for entertainment!

You...you...silly!

I actually gave up the great pastoral song and went to play such a game!

You will pay the price!”

Doug waited for the weak on the ground to finish speaking before speaking, "I want to use this game to promote my own ideas.

No matter how great Mr. Newton's achievements are, the public is talking about it, it is just a story of him sleeping under the apple tree. No matter how great the founding father Hua (Harmony) Washington is, the story of the fallen cherry axe is passed down by word of mouth...

Only something interesting enough can make people talk about it..."

He said, looking at the wriggling maggots on the ground, "Only the weak can chatter, but they cannot be convinced."

"Well said!"

Applause on the second floor of the teahouse was thunderous.

Doug, in the victor's posture, waved to the waiter in the distance and ordered, "Give this gentleman on the ground a cup of black tea."
Chapter completed!