Chapter 3 Consider A More Dignified Way To Die

Everyone present held their breaths, but they all knew that Ariel was as good as dead. Having been a dominant force in the business world for many years, Christopher had never suffered such humiliation, let alone in front of such a large crowd. Worse still, it damaged the dignity of the Fletcher family. “Men, seize her!” Gritting his teeth against the intense pain in his groin, he used the table for support and straightened, issuing that order in unrestrained fury. Four or five bodyguards in black rushed in. Upon seeing that, Ariel took off and nimbly darted through the crowd, her movements as graceful and swift as a swallow in flight. The bodyguards didn't even manage to touch the hem of her clothing. “Christopher...” Dressed in a resplendent gown, Vivian White descended the stairs all dolled up. When she caught sight of Ariel among the crowd, her gaze darkened a shade. Don't tell me filthy country bumpkin is my half-sister? I've seen her picture, and it indeed looks like her. But she's still alive? What did those two fools do when I paid them so handsomely? How could they let this embarrassing country bumpkin ruin the engagement banquet my long-awaited engagement banquet? Ariel had also spotted her. From her features, she immediately recognized the strikingly beautiful girl as the host's half-sister. The two of them stood facing each other a near distance apart. In the eyes of everyone present at that moment, Vivian was noble, elegant, and beautiful, much like the unattainable moon in the sky. Contrarily, Ariel was like a dung beetle that crawled out from a pile of coal, both black and stinky, a downright eyesore. A hint of disgust flashed across Vivian's eyes. Having such a disgraceful sister is truly a major stain in my life! Meanwhile, Ariel quietly gathered her energy, aware of the paltry strength she had left. Seizing the right moment, she shot her hand out like lightning. Without anyone knowing, a palm current struck Vivian on the shoulder. A surge of energy instantly swept through her body, causing her to shudder as if struck by lightning. Immediately after, her resplendent evening gown fell apart in public, revealing her fair body. Everyone was astounded. There were many men in the banquet hall. Their gazes turned lustful, fixed on her exquisite figure. Christopher face flushed bright red. “Ahh! Don't look! Don't look!” Vivian covered her chest in a panic, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her whole. “Close your eyes, everyone! I'll gouge the eyes of anyone who dares to peek!” Christopher roared, hastily removing his suit jacket to conceal his beloved's fair and exquisite body. Everyone turned around, not daring to look any further. As for Ariel, who caused all the commotion, she had already made her way to the rooftop. “Where's my food? Where has it gone?” She glanced around but didn't find the ball of dark energy. Instead, all she saw was a lone figure sitting by the edge of the rooftop. The man was in a wheelchair with his back to her, gazing at the bustling nightlife of Yannopolis silently. Ariel patted her somewhat hungry belly, then stepped forward and struck up a conversation with him. “Are you planning to jump off the building? I can help you out the painless way.” As a zombie ancestor, she was unlike the lesser zombies who needed blood to sustain themselves. To her, souls were the ultimate nourishment. Hmm, if this man is seeking death, I can help him out by devouring his soul. After all, helping others is the root of happiness! The man remained silent. After waiting for what seemed like forever, Ariel grew impatient and prompted, “Are you going to jump or not?” Having just expended her energy, coupled with her current body being inherently weak, she felt incredibly famished. Hunger had a way of making her lose her sanity. Bang! The rooftop door was abruptly flung open. Two groups of bodyguards in black appeared, one of which was sent by Christopher to seize her. The other group was more trained at a glance, comprising of retired special forces. They approached the man in the wheelchair. Stopping three meters away from him, they formed a solid human wall behind him, their eyes fixed intently on Ariel. Their piercing gaze seemed to carry a clear warning—if she dared to harm their master, they wouldn't hesitate to throw her off the rooftop. Ariel counted the number of people seriously. “Tsk, it would be a delight to consume so many black orbs.” Nonetheless, a voice in her mind reminded her that it was not the Nine-State Nation of the past there. In the present world, simply taking a life was considered a crime. Her primordial spirit was trapped within that body for the time being, unable to break free. If she were to be truly imprisoned, the agony would be as unbearable as being sealed. “You injured Mr. Fletcher, and he has pressed charges against you. Please come with us. Don't make things harder than they need to be,” the bodyguard in black said coldly. If it weren't for the fact that her true body wasn't there, she truly wished to leap off the rooftop and leave happily. Her current body was mortal, so if she were to jump, she would only end up splattered on the sidewalk. “Fine,” Ariel agreed readily. A hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth, and a glint of craftiness flashed across her eyes. After taking a couple of steps, she glanced back at the man in the wheelchair. Feeling a pang of regret, she advised him to consider a different way to die. “Falling from such a tall building would result in a gruesome soul after you die. You would be disfigured and your limbs mangled, a sight that would turn one's stomach. For your own sake, consider a more dignified way to die.” She was a zombie and was not fussy about her diet, but she still cared about appearances. Listening as she spoke to herself, those present couldn't help but feel a chill run down their spines. What on earth is she talking about? After Ariel had been taken away, the man in the wheelchair spoke indifferently, his voice cold and deep, carrying an intense sense of oppression. “We're returning to Jacaster.” The bodyguard in black nodded but asserted respectfully, “Old Mr. Lovell has said that your chance of survival lies in Yannopolis, so you must not leave until the time is right, Mr. Lovell.” The man with a distinguished aura snorted coldly. “I've never believed in such superstitious nonsense.” “Old Mr. Lovell has just texted, asking you to only return after you've finished handling the affairs in Yannopolis.” A hint of resignation flashed across the man's eyes. “Grandpa sure goes all out to make me stay here. Let's go down to the banquet hall.” In the banquet hall, everyone gossiped among themselves because of the unexpected incident earlier. The subject went from Vivian's pathetic and embarrassing wardrobe malfunction to the identity of the country bumpkin who crashed the engagement banquet. Someone explained, “Ariel White was betrothed to Christopher by Old Mr. Fletcher when he was still alive. Regretfully, her birth was bad luck, and she's a coffin child. Even the White family doesn't like her. She was sent to the countryside to be raised immediately after she was born.” “A coffin child? Gosh, what bad luck!” “Exactly! Even Zayne himself didn't want this daughter of his.” “It's clear as day that Ariel is an ignorant country bumpkin. Just look at how poorly she dresses. She's not nearly as beautiful as Vivian either. If it were me, I too would choose Vivian.” The crowd suddenly plunged into an uproar. All eyes in the banquet hall swung to a man who entered in a wheelchair. The man was strikingly handsome, his features so perfect as if meticulously crafted by God himself. His demeanor was cool yet elegant, exuding an air of nobility so profound that demanded nothing less than absolute respect. However, he radiated an inapproachable aura that was so icy and dangerous that it was impossible to ignore. “Holy cr*p! I can't believe I saw Samson Lovell here!” “Samson Lovell... Are you referring to the heir of the Lovell family in Jacaster?” “Who else could it be, if not him?” “The Lovell family in Jacaster is an affluent family, and he's the sole heir, with a net worth of tens of billions!” “But I heard that he's a jinx. Whoever gets close to him be struck by bad luck,” someone murmured. As soon as those words rang out, everyone nervously picked up their wine glasses and moved at least three meters away from him. Samson Lovell sat alone at the center of the banquet hall. He had long grown accustomed to the way everyone avoided him like the plague. Snagging a glass of champagne, he savored it quietly.