Tremble, tremble as much as you want! (2)

Slap!

The sound echoed like thunder. The slap didn't just land on Karl's face—it landed on the pride of everyone present. Eyes widened, almost as if they had been torn apart by disbelief.

He—he's the eldest son of the Holland family!

A madman!

This kept man, this so-called toy boy of Queenie, had gone completely insane!

Amy rushed forward to help Karl to his feet, turning back to scream at John, her voice sharp and trembling with rage.

"You're finished! And Queenie is finished too! Everyone in your Queenie Group is finished!"

Her fury was driven not only by loyalty but by relief—relief that she had left the Queenie Group just in time. Had she still been part of it, she might've gone down with them all… because of this lunatic.

Amy's outburst shocked the entire Queenie Group team.

Yes!

That slap—it wasn't just a strike. It was a death knell. A slap to Karl was a slap to the Holland family. The repercussions would be catastrophic. Every employee could see the writing on the wall. They wouldn't escape unscathed.

Their gazes turned toward John, full of hatred and panic.

Damn you!

You're just a toy boy. Why did you drag the Queenie Group—and us—into this?

"Bastard! I'm going to kill you! I'll kill every last one of you!"

Karl roared. Blood ran from his split lips, several teeth lay broken on the floor, and his glasses were shattered. His dignity was ground beneath John's heel.

Everyone in the Queenie Group trembled. Fear gripped them, silencing reason. But the man at the center of the storm, John, stood calmly and said:

"I'll give you time. Call everyone you can. I'll wait for you to come and kill me."

Bang!

The silence that followed was suffocating.

One employee shouted in a panic, "Mr. Karl! I quit! I'm leaving the Queenie Group! I have nothing to do with this!"

Karl laughed viciously. "Too late! After I deal with this dog, it'll be your turn!"

A dead end.

An absolute dead end.

With nowhere else to turn, their fury funneled into John. If looks could kill, he'd be dead a thousand times over.

Meanwhile, backstage—

A staff member rushed to Queenie and shook her awake, shouting anxiously, "Boss! Something terrible is happening!"

Queenie blinked, disoriented, but when she heard the staff's brief explanation, her face instantly turned pale.

She stumbled into the conference room, breathless.

"Mr. Karl, I'm sorry! I'm truly sorry! I didn't expect things to turn out like this…"

Karl sneered.

"Hmph! Now you know to call me Mr. Karl? Now you know to apologize? Weren't you so arrogant before? Didn't you enjoy putting on airs? Be arrogant now, bitch!"

Slap!

Karl was slapped again—harder than before. Another tooth flew out of his mouth.

"Watch your mouth," John said coldly.

But then—

Slap!

This time, it was John who took the hit.

He was stunned. He hadn't dodged it—he could have, but he didn't. Because the person who slapped him… was Queenie.

"John, are you crazy?" Queenie's voice cracked, her eyes brimming with tears.

She hadn't wanted to hit him, but the situation had spiraled far beyond control. She needed him to stop—before it was too late.

Boom!

The conference room doors burst open.

A dozen men in black suits marched in, flanking a stern-looking middle-aged man.

"Paul! Your son's been assaulted! Do something!" Karl cried out, crawling toward the man like a wounded dog.

When Paul saw his son's battered state, his face turned dark with rage.

"Who did this? Step forward right now and apologize!"

Just as John stepped forward, a slender figure blocked his way.

It was Queenie.

She stood between them, her voice firm. "I did it. I'll take responsibility."

Paul's eyes narrowed.

Her?

He didn't believe it. Could this delicate woman have beaten Karl so savagely?

The Queenie Group staff gasped. Even now, their president was shielding the toy boy?

Amy suddenly stepped forward with a sneer. "It wasn't her. It was the toy boy hiding behind her."

Oh?

Paul's eyes immediately turned to John, fury igniting in his pupils.

Amy scoffed. "What's the matter? Didn't you act all high and mighty earlier? Now you're hiding behind a woman like a coward?"

"Amy, shut up!" Queenie barked.

Amy laughed coldly. "I'm not part of Queenie Group anymore. You can't order me around."

"You…" Queenie fumed, but before she could respond, a warm hand rested on her shoulder.

John stepped forward calmly.

"Sister, I'll handle this."

Queenie opened her mouth to protest but stopped when she saw John's back.

It wasn't broad, but in that moment, it felt unshakably strong.

His calm voice soothed her heart. Maybe—just maybe—he really could handle it.

But the Holland family… they were terrifying.

John stepped in front of Paul and said, without a trace of fear:

"I beat your dog. Is there a problem?"

Dead silence.

Everyone in the room froze.

You beat his son into a pulp and had the nerve to ask if there was a problem?

Worse—did he just call Karl a dog to Paul's face?

How dare he?!

The room became thick with tension, like gunpowder waiting for a spark.

Amy, Tim, Herman, and the others watched from the sidelines with cold expressions.

Thank goodness they'd aligned themselves with Mr. Karl long ago. Had they stayed at Queenie Group, they might've shared in its doom.

"Bastard! Men—kill him!" Paul finally roared.

The room erupted.

A dozen black-suited bodyguards lunged forward.

"Ahhh!"

Screams echoed as reporters and staff scurried to corners, desperate to avoid the chaos.

But in sharp contrast to the panic, John remained perfectly still.

He raised his hand slightly and said one word:

"Retreat."

The bodyguards froze.

Their muscles stiffened. For a second, their minds went blank.

And in that instant of hesitation—

Bam! Bam! Bam!

John swept through them like a storm, dropping them one by one with effortless blows.

"You idiots! Fight back!" Paul screamed. It was as if the guards were holding back on purpose.

Suddenly, Paul's expression shifted—shock overtook his anger.

Because in that moment…

John was already standing in front of him.