“Fine. That's our only option. To achieve a more realistic effect, I think you should verbally reprimand
Zyaire,” Sebastian suggested before leaving the hospital.
Meanwhile, Harold and Marilyn were on a ship back to Hishwick Island.
“Harold, be honest with me. How did you convince the Jackson family to let you go?” Marilyn asked
Harold curiously on the deck.
“It's very simple. After I was brought away, that fatty trod on my heels and attempted to harm me.
Instead, I taught him a lesson and learned about the horrible things he did in the past. To cover up his
wrongdoings, the Jackson family had no other choice but to let you and me off. Otherwise, the Jackson
family's heir would have to be imprisoned if I disclosed his misdeeds,” he explained with a partial truth.
“Thank you. If you hadn't reached in time, I would've had to spend the rest of my life with a psycho like
him.”
Marilyn's face turned pale after she listened to Harold describing the things Bobby had committed.
“Rest assured. I'm here for you. No one, including your family members, will dare to force you to do
anything you don't like now that I'm accompanying you home,” he said to her firmly.
That was the form of compensation he was offering her, which was to let her gain absolute freedom.
Since he had settled the matters on the Jackson family's end, the only task left was to deal with the
issues with Marilyn's family.
At that moment, he was following her back to Hishwick Island to resolve that matter.
However, Harold's speech caused Marilyn to harbor the misconception that he was going to take
responsibility for her and was returning with her to come clean to her parents.
Hence, after hearing his confession-like remark, Marilyn blushed and felt butterflies in her stomach.
To her, that romantic relationship had started too abruptly, and things were happening entirely beyond
her control.
She even thought of heeding Isabella's suggestion to elope abroad with Harold if her family members
were reluctant to accept him.
“Okay,” she responded shyly before scurrying away as she was still clueless about how to be around
Harold due to his sudden advent.
Staring at Marilyn's leaving figure from behind, Harold took out his phone and dialed a number he had
never contacted since he joined the army. Since I cannot expose my identity as the God of War, I shall
use another identity to force the Schmidt family to yield.
At the same time, at the entrance of Royal One Club, the most luxurious club at Hishwick Island, a
young man dressed in a golden shirt and emitting a domineering aura swaggered out of the building.
He was the current person in charge of the underground forces of the entire world, Quintus Langdon.
He secured the position five years ago, and the seat had been his ever since.
“Mr. Langdon, there's a phone call for you.”
A subordinate handed Quintus a phone when he was about to enter the Lincoln limousine parked
outside the club's entrance.
Quintus received the phone and noticed the incoming call was from an unknown number. He hesitated
for a few seconds but ultimately answered the call.
“Hello, I'm Quintus Langdon. Who are you looking for?” he asked solemnly.
“Quintus, can you recognize my voice?”
The voice originating from the phone's speaker caused Quintus to be momentarily stunned. The next
second, an ecstatic expression spread across his face.
“Mr. Campbell, is it really you?”
Quintus' body shuddered. His eyes reddened as he choked out the question.
His demeanor utterly shocked his dozen of subordinates around him.
No one would've anticipated that the esteemed person in charge of the underground forces would greet
someone reverently and cry when answering the other party's call.
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