Chapter 118: Speedy Bankruptcy
"Is he dead?" Frank wondered aloud, cautiously checking the servant's breath by placing a hand under his nose.
Before Frank could determine if the servant was breathing, a hand suddenly grabbed his wrist.
"Whoa, holy crap!" Frank jumped in surprise, instinctively kicking the servant.
"Mr. Frank, why did you kick me?" The servant, now clutching his stomach and looking hurt, asked plaintively after being knocked against the door.
"You're alive? Do you remember what just happened?" Frank inquired, hearing the servant's words.
"I remember boiling water. How did I end up here? And why am I all wet?" The servant looked puzzled.
Frank pondered, realizing that those possessed by demons remember nothing of their possession.
"What happened?" Voices and footsteps approached as Frank and the servant spoke.
The commotion from the demon's screams had drawn attention, but by the time others arrived, it was all over.
From the demon's entrance to its banishment, only a few minutes had elapsed.
"What is this!?" The butler, arriving with others at Frank's door, was shocked to see claw marks marring the solid wood.
"There was a beast attack, and he was scared stiff," Frank fabricated.
Before opening the door, Frank had already removed the demon trap hidden beneath the carpet. No one else knew what had transpired.
Though Frank's story had holes, the hellhound's genuine claw marks on the door were undeniable.
These weren't ordinary scratches—no typical pet could leave marks on solid wood like that. Even an axe would struggle to penetrate such a door, yet these marks suggested a ferocious beast.
A billionaire's heavily secured mansion wouldn't have wild beasts roaming it.
Despite the implausibility, the evidence compelled everyone to accept Frank's tale.
Outside the mansion, security guards searched for the alleged beast. When questioning Frank about its appearance, he claimed he hadn't seen it clearly due to the chaos.
The guards scoured the villa, checked surveillance footage, but found no trace of a beast, let alone an invisible, magical hellhound, leaving them bewildered.
Frank could no longer stay in his room, so the butler arranged another for him.
The remnants of the demon trap and the spilled holy water were cleaned up without question by the servants.
With the demon banished, Frank finally relaxed.
"I knew something felt off—there's no Bible here," Frank realized in the study.
In America, the Bible is almost ubiquitous, found in most homes and even budget motels.
Even the cheap Russian brothel "Sasha's House" in Chicago's Southside had a Bible.
Yet in Joseph's billionaire estate, there wasn't a single Bible.
Frank had sensed something amiss but couldn't pinpoint it until now, after banishing the demon.
Though relieved, Frank didn't notice the butler's fearful glance.
The butler was deeply unsettled; none of the servants, maids, or guards knew about the demon. Even the two servants who helped carry sacrifices to the basement were unaware.
Only the butler knew of the demon's existence and communicated with it, organizing the sacrifices.
The butler knew the demon possessed a servant named Mike, but now, the demon was missing.
He assumed the demon had transferred to someone else, but after checking everyone in the villa, he couldn't find it and panicked.
He was sure Frank was the source of this upheaval, being the last to see the demon.
The butler urgently contacted Joseph to report the situation.
Meanwhile, Joseph was in Los Angeles, having recently attended the annual peak awards.
"Let's go to my yacht tomorrow," Joseph suggested, holding two models half his age.
Suddenly, Joseph's lecherous expression twisted into terror.
In his eyes, the models transformed into zombie-like demons, with ashen skin, distorted faces, and black eye sockets.
"Ah!" Joseph screamed, shoving the models away.
The models hit the floor, crying out in pain and looking at Joseph, bewildered.
"What happened? Was it an illusion?" Joseph muttered, standing and seeing the models revert to their original, beautiful appearances.
"Get out! All of you, get out!" Joseph yelled hoarsely as the models tried to approach.
The models reluctantly dressed, grabbed their bags, and left, casting longing, hurt glances at Joseph.
"These rich people are all lunatics," one model muttered after leaving, rubbing her sore spots.
'Ring, ring, ring,' the phone startled Joseph, drenched in sweat and still shaken from the hallucination. His flab trembled like waves.
"What is it?" Joseph answered the call.
"What?! What happened to my company?!" Joseph's eyes widened in shock, standing abruptly, causing his phone to slip and fall.
Frantically, Joseph turned on the TV, seeing news reports of his company's bankruptcy.
Moments ago, Joseph was a billionaire; now, he was bankrupt and millions in debt.
He sat stunned on the floor, unable to comprehend the situation.
His phone rang incessantly, with calls flooding in one after another.
"This can't be real. How could I go bankrupt? I made a deal with the devil," Joseph mumbled.
"The devil!" Joseph snapped out of it, fumbling for his phone, hands trembling too much to grasp it.