Ch 6: Retribution!
Author: Autistically
last update2026-07-07 13:54:58

"President, did something happen?" Charlotte couldn't help but suddenly ask in a whisper when she saw Oliver outside the car.

"Why?"

Although Oliver knew exactly what she was referring to, he pretended to be confused.

"Umm... I don't know how to explain it." Charlotte put a finger on her chin, pondering for a second before answering. "You suddenly look quite handsome today."

"You mean I wasn't handsome before?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow and playfully flicked her forehead. "Don't think about useless things. Just follow me in and don't do anything when inside unless I ask you to."

With that, he moved forward, while Charlotte, rubbing her forehead with a mixture of surprise and curiosity, silently followed him.

Since it was noon and time for lunch, he went straight to the dining hall, where the seating hierarchy was immediately apparent.

Different dishes were meticulously laid out at various spots along the table.

Already aware of this arrangement, Oliver purposefully seated himself in the head chair, the place reserved for the patriarch.

He picked up a knife and fork, cut a small piece of steak, and chewed it slowly. He ate alone without waiting for anyone.

Charlotte stood behind him silently like an obedient secretary, but seeing his actions, the strange glint in her eyes only deepened.

She had served Oliver for years, but today, this man had given her one surprise after another, making her feel as if she were meeting him for the first time.

Soon, footsteps approached the dining room. The one who arrived first was Aston, Oliver's half-brother.

In terms of appearance, he and Oliver could be said to have no resemblance at all.

Seeing Oliver sitting in their father's seat, Aston's face contorted with rage.

"Oliver, are you blind? Can't you tell where you're supposed to sit to eat!?"

Focused on his food, Oliver said nothing. He didn't even look at Aston, only continuing to cut his steak.

Before long, the two other members of the Jones family currently present in the mansion arrived at the dining room. The remaining stepsister hadn't been home in almost a year, but she would soon return in a few days.

"You're sitting here, so where is Dad supposed to sit?"

Aston ran to his father, Mathew Jones's side like a dog, and pointed a finger at Oliver. "Dad, look at this guy, he's getting cocky."

"Today he dares to steal your seat, tomorrow he'll dare to steal your position as head of the Jones family. This guy is getting more and more outrageous. Dad, you absolutely cannot continue to let him run wild."

Seeing this, Mathew's brows furrowed, and he shouted at Oliver.

"Get up!"

Nevertheless, Oliver simply ignored him and sneered internally.

The original owner, that pathetic coward, was always like this. He was targeted by Aston everywhere at home.

His father didn't love him, his brother didn't respect him, and his stepmother made things difficult for him, eyeing him like a predator, constantly whispering poison in his father's ear. He was the type who was always bullied and didn't dare to say a word.

Although the previous owner was dead now, replaced by him, a transmigrator who knew the plot because of the novel he read, there were still many points that Oliver was confused about in this family's situation.

Like, why had Mathew let the previous owner manage the Jones Corporation despite such obvious hatred, and why had the Nightingale family never tried to help him directly until the end, only offering assistance from the shadows?

One had to know that Oliver's mother was the only child of his grandfather, the current head of the Nightingale family.

Even though Oliver's father, Mathew, had seduced Oliver's young mother into his trap, led to her running away to marry him, got her pregnant, and was also the indirect reason for her early death, according to the novel, Oliver's grandfather never hated his grandson, Oliver.

On the contrary, the old man doted on Oliver to no end because he was the sole descendant of his bloodline.

In the book, his grandfather only hated Mathew and even wanted to kill the bastard and eradicate the whole Jones family, which he easily could, but never did until the end.

Oliver had a nagging doubt that it was all because of himself, but why exactly, he didn't know.

There was no mention of this in the book, nor any clue in the memory of this body.

'No rush. Once I deal with this garbage here, I can slowly investigate these things.'

Deciding this, he pushed the topic to the back of his mind and once more focused on this bunch of trash before him.

"Oliver, I could let it slide if you didn't respect me. But now, you won't even listen to what Dad says?"

Aston, who had learned boxing and had always used it to act superior, was getting fired up.

He needed to maintain his image as a filial and well-mannered son in front of his father. That was why he had always avoided being rude to Oliver in front of his father.

But today was different; Oliver wouldn't even listen to his father. He was simply asking for it.

"Get out!"

Unable to hold back anymore, Aston stepped forward, his hand reaching out to grab Oliver's suit to haul him up from the chair.

But before he could even touch the fabric, Oliver moved with a speed that looked like a blur of motion.

He first grabbed Aston's hand midair, just as it was about to touch him, and then slammed it onto the dining table.

Bang!

At the same time, he gripped the fork and pierced it through the center of Aston's palm, driving it directly into the wood of the dining table.

Puchi—!

After pinning Aston's palm in place, Oliver held the dinner knife and, using his Inner Force Realm strength, easily sliced along Aston's wrist like butter, completely severing Aston's arm.

In an instant, Aston lost the support of his hand and collapsed onto the floor in disbelief.

Looking at his severed arm, where blood was gushing out in spurts, it took a full few seconds for Aston to even register the agonizing pain.

"My hand! My hand! It's severed! Aaaaaah!!!"

Aston's wailing was piercing enough to vibrate one's eardrums.

Oliver, meanwhile, was leisurely wiping his hands with a napkin, even though no blood had stained them at all.

It was as if he were wiping away Aston's stench.

Once done, he lifted his eyes and flashed a gentle smile at the remaining two.

"Come have some lunch."

The elegant woman, his stepmother, rushed forward to support her son with the severed arm and shouted toward the outside with panic, "Ambulance! Call an ambulance quickly!"

Even Mathew, who had experienced the cutthroat battles of the business world and thought he had seen it all, felt his pupils dilate in shock at this scene. He growled angrily, "Oliver, have you lost your mind?!"

"Lost my mind? Hehe, then let me fulfill your wish."

As soon as he finished speaking, he rushed and grabbed Aston's ankle and then slammed it directly onto the dining table.

Crack!

Along with the shattering of the dining table, a whole section of Aston's calf bone also snapped.

"Since my so-called father said I have lost my mind, I had no choice but to break your leg to show him I have lost my mind."

Oliver tossed Aston aside like a broken doll and said with a chilling smile.

"Don't blame me. Blame yourself for having such a father."

Seeing her son turned into a cripple in the blink of an eye, the elegant woman, his stepmother, who had always maintained an image of treating everyone equally, could no longer hold back her true nature. Her eyes were splitting with rage as she shouted angrily at Oliver.

"Oliver! You're crazy! You dirty—"

Before she could say more, Oliver gave her a cold look, and she was so terrified by his gaze that she felt a lump form in her throat and shut her mouth.

But Oliver didn't intend to let her go.

"Since when has it been the turn of an outsider like you to interrupt our Jones family?"

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