Rebirth vs. Rebirth Tragedy to Triumph
Chapter 137 Conflict
In the middle of their conversation,
a piece of paper floated out from the store.
Violeta took a step forward, picked it up, and glanced at it. She saw a few words scribbled on it.
Wally Houle most likely wrote it.
At first glance, the writing was truly atrocious.
â© 77 ì¶
Finished
Before, Cyril had criticised Sophiaâs writing as mere scribbles. Compared to her writing, Wally would receive a good scolding.
âWhether you agree to sell it or not, you will sell it today!â
A gruff voice emanated from within the shop. Violeta discarded the paper and stepped inside.
Inside, the young asisstant stood in front of Cyril, who was clearly upset. The shop was in disarray, with items scattered and broken everywhere.
The man in his twenties sitting on a chair by the shelves was likely Mr. Wally, the heir of the Houles.
Cyril was stubborn as ever. He declared, âYour handwriting is unworthy of my pens. Even if you beat me to death today, I wonât make a custom pen for you.â
Wally was infuriated by his claim. He retorted, âFine! Youâre still being stubborn? Boys, give him a good beating!â
âYes, Mr. Wally!â
A few servants stepped forward, raising their fists, ready to beat Cyril.
âStop it!â
Violeta stepped in and blocked their path. She said, âYou canât hit him.â
Cyril was an elderly man. If he
Ghurt, who would Violeta turn to for a tom pen?
The servants paused and lowered their fists.
Wally, who occupied the , paused. Wally eyed Violeta, captivated by her beauty. Wally asked, âAnd who might you be?â
Violeta retorted, âWho I am is none of your concern. Is there no law here? You canât just beat people up.â
Wally leaned back, his eyes appraising her with a hint amusement. He asked, âLaw? Here, the
the law!â
Violeta could
Violeta couldnât find the words rebuke him.
The last person she had met with such arrogance was Nyla at the inn.
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Despite his stubbornness, the old man didnât want to involve outsiders. He warned Violeta, âYou get involved. They have more people. Youâre just a young girl; youâll get hurt.â
Violeta was surprised by Cyrilâs concern that the old man was looking out for the youngster.
Despite his sharp tongue, he had a protective side, which her opinion of him slightly.
âDonât worry, they canât hurt me.â
âOh, big talk.â
Wally stroked his chin, concealing a leer in his gaze as he looked at Violeta. He asked, âWho are you to this old man? Why are you standing up for him? You look quite appealing to me. If youâre his granddaughter or something, maybe if you sweetâtalk me, Iâll let you off.â
Violeta furrowed.
Cyril snapped, âYou spoiled brat! No wonder youâre such a disgrace. No matter how much wealth you inherit, one day squander it all.â
The Houlesâ servants widened their eyes in shock.
Their employer hated being called a disgrace the most.
Sure enough, Wally was enraged. He commanded, âBeat this old man to death! Hit him until he canât speak!â
âYes, Mr. Wally!â
The servants charged forward.
Violeta pulled Cyril aside. She grabbed a broken plank from the wreckage. She swung it left and right, sending the servants flying out of the shop.
âArghh!â
Whoosh!
Thud!
The crowd outside, which had gathered to watch, quickly scattered as the servants fell. The servants. clutched various parts of their bodies and were unable to get up.
Cyril and his assistant stared at Violeta in shock. They never expected the girl to be so skilled in combat.
Wally was left alone without anyone backing him up. He stammered, âYou! You! Youâ¦â
Violeta walked . She tapped his face with the plank and asked, âWhy are you stammering? Get out of here and make room for me!â
Wally stood up quickly. He tripped over the broken items as he ran out, tumbling right onto his servants.
âMr. Wally, are you okay?â
Wally scrambled un from the ground humiliated.
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He roared, âYou useless lot! You canât even handle a girl! What are you still doing here? Get home now!â
In a moment, they all fled, disappearing without a trace.
After they were gone, Violeta turned to Cyril and said, âYour shop took quite a hit. Only this chair seems intact. Have a seat.â
Cyril asked, âWhy are you back? Didnât I tell you this morning that your writing is gibberish? You wonât get my pen. Give up.â
She replied, âHey! How ungrateful. I just helped you.â
Cyril waved his hand dismissively and said, âThatâs a different matter. Principles are principles! I stick to them!â
Violeta smiled and said, âI donât expect you to give me a pen for nothing. Iâm here to earn it with my writing. If you like it, as you said, youâll give me a free pen.â
Gifts