Married First, Loved Later : A Flash Marriage with My Ex's 'Uncle' Chapter 554: Arrogant Words, Harsh Reality

It had begun!

In just monts, the world would know who would claim the crown.

Viewers who had dozed off or swiped away from the livestream quickly returned, all waiting with bated breath.

Soon, the host announced: "The winner of tenth place... from Country Y—Mr. S!"

A tall man shot to his feet, face glowing with excitent. He hugged the contestants around him, waved at the cara, and practically sprinted onto the stage.

Among the Country Y contestants, so looked at him with envy, while others sneered with disdain.

But truthfully, earning tenth place was already a cause for envy.

This year’s perfu competition had drawn nearly ten thousand submissions from the best perfurs across both Country Y and Country M.

To be tenth was to stand out as a genius among ten thousand.

Overco with emotion, Mr. S stamred into the microphone, thanking his teachers, his school, the Queen, Ronald, and even Logan for giving him this opportunity.

The livestream filled with sighs:[It’s over... If tenth place is a Country Y contestant, does Country M even stand a chance?]

Everyone had hoped that at least one of the eight Country M contestants could break into the top ten, most setting their sights on the easiest slot—tenth.

And it was almost taken as a given: if tenth didn’t go to a Country M contestant, then none of them would place at all.

The Country M viewers fell into silence.

Ronald grinned. "Mr. Reid, do you rember your wife’s wager with Miss Paula?"

Logan cast him a sidelong glance.

Ronald’s smile widened. "You see? Even tenth place went to us, to Country Y. For Miss Clark to aim for first... haha, I don’t an to belittle her, of course, but it does seem difficult. Mr. Reid, I only feel sorry for you—after all, twenty billion split as marital property ans you’ll lose ten billion yourself."

Logan didn’t even bother to look at him.

Ronald sneered. Keep pretending to be calm. Let’s see how long you can keep that up.

Soon after, ninth place was announced—another Country Y contestant.

At that, every Country M supporter felt the last of their hope vanish.

Ronald’s mocking smile grew broader. "Mr. Reid, may I send a ssage to Miss Clark through my assistant? Ah, it’s not that I wish to rub it in, but really..."

Logan couldn’t understand why so people were so desperate to make fools of themselves. He said evenly, "Do as you like."

Ronald wasn’t about to waste such a perfect chance to mock Selina.

Right after the ninth-place contestant finished his interview, Ronald turned deliberately and asked: "Miss Clark, you once said Country M perfurs are not inferior, that you would certainly take a spot, even the championship. Faced with the current situation, do you have anything to say now?"

The hall erupted with laughter.

"Hahaha! Champion? They don’t even have one in the top ten!"

"If a Country M contestant makes top ten, I’ll wash my hair standing on my head!"

Ronald laughed louder, basking in his triumph.

Selina, however, only cast him a faint glance, her expression calm, as though she couldn’t be bothered with such a petty clown. "It’s fine. Just watch."

Ronald snorted. "So people really won’t give up until the bitter end. The rest of the rankings will all be swept by Country Y contestants! With ninth and tenth gone, Country M had no chance. And we still have so many outstanding perfurs left. Just wait and see!"

The Country Y contestants looked just as smug, brimming with confidence. To them, they were born to be the favored ones. Forget just the championship—taking the entire top three seed only natural.

Selina ignored everyone, simply waiting for the host to continue.

"The contestant in eighth place is... Number 48."

After all fifty contestants had submitted their perfus, the works were scrambled and assigned random numbers. The judges could only see the numbers during evaluation—leaving no room for cheating.

When Number 48 was ntioned, several judges nodded knowingly.

"This perfu was truly excellent, very refreshing."

"The dry-down was especially stunning. I predicted it would land around seventh or eighth—and sure enough."

"I wonder which Country Y contestant it is..."

Since most of the judges were from Country Y, they naturally assud such a fine perfu could only belong to one of their own.

The host and several Country Y assistants went to check the contestant list. Then... they froze.

Wait. Hold on. That na—why didn’t it look like soone from Country Y?

The audience began urging them to hurry, and the host finally snapped back to attention, raising his voice to announce a na no one recognized:

"The winner of eighth place is... Mr. Q!"

...Q?

Who?

The Country Y contestants and viewers exchanged puzzled looks.

Was he so newly trained perfur? But the na didn’t sound like soone from Country Y at all...

Even Ronald frowned in thought. He had t nearly every Country Y perfur. Had soone slipped past him? Or...

"Ah! It’s ! It’s ! I’m eighth place!"

A bright, ringing male voice burst out, nearly delirious with excitent. A young man leapt from his seat, shouting, "It’s !"

Who? Who was it?!

Everyone turned—and finally spotted him in a far corner.

That was...

[Where’s the cara? Cara crew, what the hell—go film him!]

[Are you kidding ? There’s a contestant sitting over there and no one’s showing him? Didn’t they say there were over eighty caran? Send a couple to cover that corner!]

[Hurry up, hurry up—I want to see the eighth-place winner! How could Reid Group make this kind of mistake?]

[Uh... do you guys rember Ronald deliberately shoved a certain country’s contestants into a corner and pulled the caras? Mr. Reid told him to send a crew, but Ronald brushed it off...]

[Ah...]

[Oh no...]

[Wait. Don’t tell the eighth-place winner is actually...]

Just as Mr. Q was about to dash forward, Selina caught his arm and said calmly, "Don’t rush. Wait for the caras."

Only then did the organizers realize—there were still eight contestants cramd into that corner!

They scrambled, sending two caran over. Soon, Mr. Q ca into the fra.

A face unmistakably of Country M origin.

...It was a Country M contestant!

A Country M contestant had taken eighth place!

The entire hall seed to freeze.

Logan set down his teacup, his voice soft but cutting through clear as glass to Ronald:

"Didn’t Mr. Ronald say there wouldn’t be a single Country M contestant in the top ten?"

...

...

All eyes swiveled toward Ronald.

Yes, he was Country Y’s chief perfur. But dismissing an entire nation’s contestants so openly—shoving them into the corner, pulling their caras—that was no longer the stance of a fair judge.

Even worse, he had mocked Country M just monts before eighth place was revealed, claiming they would never rank.

Now, with Logan’s understated remark, it was as if a heavy slap had landed square across Ronald’s face.