Chapter 43: Slap of Justice
The loud slap drew everyone’s attention in the hall. They all stood stunned, montarily forgetting to act.
Standing tall and mighty was a noble lady in a yellow dress. Her neatly styled black hair added to her elegance, but her expression was one of pure disgust as she looked down at Zaiyila, who lay on the ground. She dusted herself off with disdain.
"Where did this country bumpkin co from? Do you know how much this dress cost? And you just ruined it! Bitch!" she scread angrily.
Zaiyila held her face, her eyes flashing crimson for a brief mont before reverting to normal. The forceful slap had already given her a headache.
"I’m talking to you, and you dare ignore ?! Are poor people arrogant in their poverty now?" the lady yelled, reaching toward Zaiyila.
But before she could lay a hand on her, two n appeared out of nowhere and blocked her path.
Before she could react—
"Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa!"
The two n slapped her, one after the other, until she was seeing stars and collapsed onto the floor.
"My face!" the noblewoman shrieked as tears stread down her cheeks. Her face was red and swollen, completely ruining her beauty.
The two n bowed deeply toward Zaiyila. "We are at your rcy, Your Majesty. Please punish us!" they chorused.
Zaiyila waved her hand and attempted to stand up. At that mont, the elevator opened—and Everett stepped out.
"Eve!" Zaiyila cried. She hadn’t shed a single tear until now, but upon seeing Everett, tears welled up in her eyes as she reached out to him like a child longing for comfort.
Everett’s brows furrowed, and he imdiately rushed to her side. He scooped her up in one arm and sent a murderous glare at the two n.
The n knew no excuse would save them. They had been assigned to protect the Queen with their lives, yet she had been assaulted under their watch. Even without Everett speaking, they understood that only death awaited them. Rather than face his wrath, they chose to end their lives and find peace.
"We understand," they muttered solemnly, bowed once more, and departed.
Everett’s attention then shifted to the noblewoman, who now stared at Zaiyila in stunned disbelief.
"Wait... don’t tell she’s... his sister? No, that can’t be right. They look more like lovers. No... she must be his sister... but then again..." Her thoughts ran wild as she gulped nervously.
Zaiyila wrapped her arms around Everett’s neck, her face buried into him, sobbing like a spoiled child. The scene almost made her look more like his little sister than his wife.
"Eve, I didn’t do anything. She just slapped ," Zaiyila choked out.
"No... no... it’s not what you think! I... I didn’t know she was your sister—I thought she was just one of those low-class people! It’s because... she ruined my dress. But it’s fine! The slap... I was just joking around... I was actually thinking of apologizing before you arrived," the lady stamred desperately.
Zaiyila looked up at Everett with teary eyes.
He examined her face, now marked with a visible handprint, and his expression darkened. A cold smirk ford on his lips as murderous energy radiated from him. He gently wiped her tears.
"Just joking around?" he echoed coldly.
The noblewoman’s heart pounded with fear. "Yes... I didn’t an it, really. Actually... actually, I’m here to propose marriage to you. Just think about it—if you marry , not only will my father’s company be yours, but you’ll gain significant manpower as well," she attempted to shift the topic.
Zaiyila, who was still crying, suddenly stopped. She glared at the woman with murderous intent.
"Ehn?! You think the slap turned into a corpse, huh? That’s why you had the nerve to propose to my husband in front of !" she scread inwardly, itching to pounce and tear her apart.
Everett’s rage deepened. "Co closer," he instructed.
Zaiyila turned her head sharply. "You want to marry her?" she exclaid in her mind. "Tsk. She has sothing valuable to offer... what do I have? It’s up to him to decide." Her mood dropped.
The woman stood up quickly and tried to move toward Everett. She reached for his arm, but a single glare from him rooted her in place. She didn’t dare move.
"My Queen," Everett addressed Zaiyila softly, "bless her with twelve slaps—with all your might."
Zaiyila blinked in surprise and pointed at herself.
Everett gave a firm nod.
"No! No, those n already avenged her! My face is still aching!" the lady cried.
"Shut up, bitch!" Zaiyila snapped, and before the woman could say another word, she landed a slap so hard her eyes nearly popped out.
The woman scread in pain. She wanted to escape, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even turn her head. She could only stand helplessly as another slap struck her face.
"I’m begging you, please!" she cried. But her pleas fell on deaf ears.
"Ten more slaps," Everett ordered.
Zaiyila chuckled, as though she had just found a delightful toy, and delivered another blow.
"Nine more."
Slap!
"Eight more."
Slap!
"Seven more."
Slap!
"Six more, my Queen."
Slap!
"Five more!"
Slap!
"Four more slaps!"
Slap!
"You’re doing just great. Three more slaps!"
Slap!
"That’s very sweet of you, my Queen. Two more!"
Slap!
"Just one more."
"Eve, let down first—I want to slap her properly," Zaiyila said, rubbing her hands together with excitent.
"As you wish, my Queen," Everett murmured, setting her down gently.
Zaiyila looked at the lady, now on the brink of death. Her face was swollen like a pig’s backside—an utterly ridiculous sight.
"You’re a pretty girl," Zaiyila taunted. "Go outside and propose marriage to more people with that pretty face of yours."
She raised her hand high and delivered a final, brutal slap. Blood now stained the woman’s face.
Seeing the blood, Zaiyila licked the corner of her lips, and her eyes began to turn unnaturally.
Everett noticed and quickly covered her eyes with his palm. He looked at the woman coldly. "Wait for my judgnt," he stated before lifting Zaiyila in one arm and walking away.
The lady’s mind was in complete turmoil. As soon as Everett was out of sight, she collapsed and lost consciousness.
No one dared speak. Only after confirming Everett had truly left did they rush to her aid.
"Serves you right, arrogant noble ugly woman!" the workers spat, and many instantly beca fans of Zaiyila.
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