Chapter 119: Death
Joseph tried to call his home, but the phone rang incessantly. Every time he hung up, another call came in. He couldn't dial out because too many people were trying to reach him. A billionaire's bankruptcy involved more than just one or two people.
"Dammit!" Frustrated by the phone's constant ringing, Joseph threw it into the swimming pool.
"Give me your phone!" Joseph stormed out of his room, grabbing a passing female attendant.
"Ah!!" she screamed, terrified by the sight of a bathrobe-clad Joseph, with bloodshot eyes, grabbing her menacingly.
"Shut up! Give me your phone!" Joseph demanded, slapping her. She fell, her face swelling with blood trickling from her mouth.
But this was a top-tier hotel, and the attendant, aware of the wealthy clientele, dared not resist and handed her phone to Joseph.
Joseph quickly called his home, seeking answers.
"Master, I finally reached you," the butler said, having tried repeatedly but found the line busy. He hurriedly explained the situation.
"What do you mean it's gone? How is that possible?" Joseph shouted, disbelief echoing through the phone, making the butler flinch.
"Explain it to me, now!" Joseph demanded, frantic and agitated.
He finally understood why he had suddenly gone bankrupt.
His wealth and status were gifts from the demon. If the demon vanished, everything he had would disappear, leaving him with nothing.
Without the demon, he'd revert to a vagrant in a slum bar, a fate he couldn't bear. He'd rather die.
It's easy to transition from frugality to luxury, but returning to poverty from wealth is hard. The mental shift from billionaire to vagrant could drive anyone mad.
"Frank?!" Joseph exclaimed, incredulous upon hearing the butler's words.
"What does Frank have to do with this? He's just a drunkard, and that's a legendary demon!" Joseph was utterly confused.
"I'm coming back to find out what's happening. Keep an eye on him," Joseph instructed anxiously.
As he spoke, Joseph sensed something, instinctively looking down the hallway to see a hellhound enveloped in ominous black mist, its crimson eyes fixed on him.
"No, stay away!" Joseph screamed as the hellhound charged.
As a contract holder, Joseph could see the hellhound, but the attendant could not.
To her, Joseph was angrily on the phone, then suddenly terrified, trying to back away but tripping over his robe and falling, exposing his obese body and unattractive features.
The attendant didn't have time to focus on Joseph's appearance as her face mirrored his terror.
Joseph, on the ground, suddenly had grotesque wounds appear on his stomach, blood gushing as he struggled against an invisible force, seemingly tearing him apart.
"Ah!!" The attendant, never having seen such a nightmare, screamed and fainted, the air filled with the stench of her fear-induced accident.
Joseph's screams abruptly stopped, but his torment was only beginning.
The hellhound bit into a translucent substance, Joseph's twisted face faintly visible on it, and then vanished, leaving everything eerily normal.
Hotel surveillance captured everything and alerted security, but by the time they arrived, it was over. Blood and entrails splattered the hallway.
"Ugh!" Someone immediately vomited.
"Call the police! Hurry!" Chaos erupted in the hotel.
Meanwhile, the butler in New York, holding the phone, heard Joseph's screams, feeling as if he was plunged into an icy abyss.
"It's over, all over," the butler muttered.
"Hmm? Butler, are you going out?" Frank, choosing some books from the study, saw the butler in a coat and hat, carrying bags.
"Ah! Yes, something came up," the butler stammered, trembling, and fled the villa.
The butler usually managed everything in the estate. Though many were curious, no one questioned his departure.
"Strange," Frank mumbled, stopping suddenly upon seeing Joseph's bedroom door ajar.
Guests like Frank could roam freely in most areas, but some places, like Joseph's master bedroom, were off-limits.
A billionaire's bedroom isn't a place to be entered lightly, and the door was usually locked when Joseph was away. But today, it was open.
"The butler must have opened it," Frank thought.
Only the butler had the key, and in his haste, he must have forgotten to close it.
Frank hesitated at the door, looked around, and seeing no one, stepped inside.
"Wow," Frank exclaimed at the sight inside.
The room looked ransacked, drawers pulled out, clothes strewn everywhere, and cabinet doors flung open, their contents gone. Scattered boxes suggested they once held valuable jewels.
Frank picked up a box, finding no labels, only certificates and auction papers.
In other rooms, the accessible jewels were cheap, but the master bedroom held the true treasures, auction-grade items.
Any single piece could match the value of the jewels Frank and others had taken, but now they were all gone.