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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.
Before, Cyril had criticised Sophia's writing as mere scribbles. Compared to her writing, Wally would receive a good scolding.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Whether you agree to sell it or not, you will sell it today!" 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, "Your handwriting is unworthy of my pens. Even if you beatto death today, I won't make a custom pen for you." Wally was infuriated by his claim. He retorted, "Fine! You're still being stubborn? Boys, give him a good beating!" "Yes, Mr. Wally!" A few servants stepped forward, raising their fists, ready to beat Cyril.
"Stop it!" Violeta stepped in and blocked their path. She said, "You can't hit him." Cyril was an elderly man. If he got hurt, who would Violeta turn to for a custom pen? The servants paused and lowered their fists.
Wally, who occupied the chair, paused. Wally eyed Violeta, captivated by her beauty. Wally asked, "And who might you be?" Violeta retorted, "Who I am is none of your concern. Is there no law here? You can't just beat people up." Wally leaned back, his eyes appraising her with a hint of amusement. He asked, "Law? Here, the Houles are the law!" Violeta couldn't find the words to rebuke him.
The last person she had met with such arrogance was Nyla at the inn.
Ignoring Wally, she lowered her eyes and turned to help Cyril to his feet.
Despite his stubbornness, the old man didn't want to involve outsiders. He warned Violeta, "You shouldn't get involved. They have more people. You're just a young girl; you'll get hurt." Violeta was surprised by Cyril's concern that the old man was looking out for the youngster.
Despite his sharp tongue, he had a protective side, which changed her opinion of him slightly.
"Don't worry, they can't hurt me." "Oh, such big talk." Wally stroked his chin, barely concealing a leer in his gaze as he looked at Violeta. He asked, "Who are you to this old man? Why are you standing up for him? You look quite appealing to me. If you're his granddaughter or something, maybe if you sweet-talk me, I'll let you off." Violeta furrowed.
Cyril snapped, "You spoiled brat! No wonder you're such a disgrace. No matter how much wealth you inherit, one day you'll squander it all." The Houles' servants widened their eyes in shock.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmTheir employer hated being called a disgrace the most.
Sure enough, Wally was enraged. He commanded, "Beat this old man to death! Hit him until he can't speak!" "Yes, Mr. Wally!" 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.
"Arghh!" 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, "You! You! You ...
Violeta walked in. She tapped his face with the plank and asked, "Why are you stammering? Get out of here and make room for me!" Wally stood up quickly. He tripped over the broken items as he ran out, tumbling right onto his servants. "Mr. Wally, are you okay?" Wally scrambled up from the ground, humiliated.
He roared, "You useless lot! You can't even handle a girl! What are you still doing here? Get hnow!" In a moment, they all fled, disappearing without a trace.
After they were gone, Violeta turned to Cyril and said, "Your shop took quite a hit. Only this chair seems intact. Have a seat."
Cyril asked, "Why are you back? Didn't I tell you this morning that your m writing is gibberish? You won't get my pen. Give up." She replied, "Hey! How ungrateful. I just helped you." Cyril waved his hand dismissively and said, "That's a different matter. Principles are principles! I stick to them!"
Violeta smiled and said, "I don't expect you to givea pen form nothing I'm here to earn it with my writing. If you like it, as you said, you'll givea free pen."