Chris hurled Edward aside without a second thought and turned sharply toward Miss Poison. She stood tall—white-skinned, muscular, and radiating authority.
"Why are you harassing them? Who gave you the right to walk into this banquet uninvited?" she demanded, voice cool but firm.
Before she could say more, Alice cut in with fury blazing in her eyes.
"Why are you asking useless questions? Just deal with this scumbag already! He dared to slap my mom and me. Don't show him any mercy!" she shouted, her voice ringing through the hall.
Chris, though known for his hot temper, remained unshaken. He kept his glare steady on Miss Poison and the others, his body tense, waiting—watching.
Just then, Edward staggered to his feet from where Chris had thrown him. He approached Miss Poison and questioned with irritation, "What took you so long? You were supposed to be here before I even put the ring on Alice's finger."
Miss Poison responded curtly, "I'm too busy to explain myself, Mr. Jones. First, let's handle the young man you claim has been harassing you."
She turned slightly, her gaze locking onto Chris. "What do you want me to do to him?"
Edward grinned wickedly, stepping forward. "Beat him. Beat him until he can't even breathe."
"Go ahead," he added with venom. "Show him what happens when you cross me."
"You heard him, men!" Miss Poison commanded, her voice sharp and commanding. "Do as he said."
The black-clad Dragon agents, more than fifty in number, moved forward.
But just as they approached, Edward raised a hand and barked, "Hold on!"
They froze instantly.
Turning to Chris with a smirk, Edward said with mock generosity, "Hey, Chris! I'm feeling kind today. I'll consider sparing your life… if you'll do one thing for me."
Alice, furious, snapped, "Have you lost your mind, Edward? Let them beat him to death! Why are you hesitating?!"
Edward shot her a look that silenced her immediately. Then, he faced Chris again and declared, "I'll pardon you—for today—if you get on your knees and beg me for mercy."
Gasps rippled through the hall. Guests murmured, intrigued and entertained.
"You heard him, young man! Get on your knees and beg!"
Chris cocked his head, stepping toward Miss Poison.
"Do you really want me to beg him?" he asked, voice cold.
"Okay then... I'll beg him," he said calmly—and in a blink, he grabbed Edward by the shirt, yanking him close. With a swift flick of his fingers—an ancient fighting technique—Chris twisted Edward's neck with a crack!
"AHHHHH!" Edward screamed in agony, clutching his neck.
"Attack!" Miss Poison shrieked, rage blazing in her eyes. "Now!"
The Dragon agents lunged toward Chris.
But Chris raised a glowing sigil high above his head. The moment the metallic symbol—bearing the face of a Dragon—caught the light, the agents dropped to their knees as if struck by lightning. Even Miss Poison bowed instantly.
"Forgive us, my Lord!" she cried, her head lowered. "We didn't know you were the Dragon Lord... Please, have mercy!"
The guests stood in stunned silence. Edward stared in disbelief. That sigil—legendary, sacred—could only be held by one man. The Dragon Lord.
Could it be…? Is Chris really the Dragon Lord? Edward's mind reeled.
Before he could think further, Alice's voice cut through the silence with scorn.
"What kind of woman did you bring to fight Chris? She's nothing but a coward. Now she's kneeling before him—how pathetic!"
She hadn't even finished when smack!—Miss Poison rose and slapped Alice hard across the face.
"How dare you call the Dragon Lord by his name? Do you wish to die?" she growled, eyes blazing.
She turned again to Chris, still kneeling. "My Lord, I apologize on their behalf. Please... tell us how you wish for them to be punished."
Chris shook his head slowly. A silent refusal.
Edward's eyes narrowed. This isn't right, he told himself. No Dragon Lord is merciful. They're ruthless...
"You're not the Dragon Lord," Edward accused, stepping forward. "You're just pretending! The real Dragon Lord wouldn't show mercy."
Chris's eyes darkened.
"You want to see my other side, huh?" he whispered. "What if I start with your family?"
"You must be mad!" Katherine snapped, stomping toward him, finger pointed in defiance. "The Jones family is powerful. No one can bring us down. Who gave you the guts to say that?"
Chris pulled out his phone, calm and calculated. "Watch and see," he said coldly, dialing a number. "In five minutes, destroy everything that belongs to the Jones. I mean everything—their house, their properties... wipe them out."
Edward broke into laughter, mocking.
"You were the class president, right? Why didn't you use your brain back then? We own over $100 billion worth of assets. You can't even scratch them in your seventh life!"
He smirked. "Just wait until my dad arrives. He won't let you get away with this!"
But before Edward could bask in false confidence, a loud SMACK! echoed.
Someone had turned him around and delivered two blistering slaps.
He stumbled back in shock and looked up—only to see his father standing before him, face pale with fury.
"Who did you offend, Edward?" Mr. Jones asked, voice trembling. "Because of you... we've lost everything. We're bankrupt. Even this banquet? They're here to take it back!"
He shook his head, disbelief weighing down his words.
"We've fallen… from grace to grass."
Edward collapsed to the floor, stunned.
"This... this can't be true!" he gasped.