Anyone Dares Bully you Call Uncles!
Chapter 412 Traces of Possession by Evil Spirits

Chapter 412 Traces of Possession by Evil Spirits

Blake rang the doorbell, and shortly after, a maid came out, wearing a polite smile as she asked, "May I

inquire about your identity?"

Glancing at the opulent villa and its surroundings, he replied nonchalantly, "I have a slight connection

with Mrs. Fowler, so kindly inform her that my last name is MacNeil." In Clodston, the MacNeil family

was the only one bearing that surname and holding a certain status. He believed that upon hearing this

surname, Madam Fowler, if not foolish, would promptly emerge.

The maid acknowledged with a nod and responded, "Very well, please wait for a moment."

Once the maid departed, Lilly inquired, "Dad, do you know Auntie Fowler?"

Blake admitted, "I don't."

It puzzled her, "Then why did you claim to have an acquaintance with her?"

Shamelessly, he replied, "Well, we're all descendants of the same ancestors, so isn't that a form of

acquaintance?"

Lilly was shocked. She grasped the concept of "descendant" as her older brother had recently

explained it to Hannah during their lesson. However, she wondered if the term could be used in such a

context. Suddenly, her eyes brightened. She felt she had gained some inexplicably impressive

knowledge, but struggled to articulate it fully.

Next to them, Grace thought to herself, "Descendants... It means more than just being acquainted. It

could even imply being relatives, right?"

Shortly after, a pale and fragile lady rushed out, her face drained of color. Hurriedly, she suddenly

began coughing, causing her pale complexion to flush red. "I... I apologize..."

Her speech came in interrupted bursts, heavily punctuated by bouts of coughing. Yet, amidst her

urgency, she extended her hand in a gesture of invitation, the intensity of her coughing increasing.

A person in their thirties or forties coughed, emitting a feebleness typically associated with someone in

their seventies or eighties.

Blake reached out his hand and applied gentle pressure, his voice clear and icy as he spoke, "No need

to hurry."

The lady remained quiet. Her expression was unchanged.

Lilly saw no problem with her father's words and comforted, "Mmm, Auntie Fowler, take your time."

The lady remained silent, offering no response.

Lilly discreetly observed the lady, contemplating the peculiar presence of a gloomy aura lingering

above her head, undoubtedly left behind by a malevolent spirit. However, there was no sign of the

spirit's presence on the lady herself. It was perplexing.

Pablo clarified, "This residual aura is the imprint left by an evil spirit. Lilly, do you recall if she visited

Chris before?"

Lilly nodded in confirmation.

Pablo proceeded, "Chris may be devious and malicious, but he is undoubtedly a formidable

practitioner. It's possible that the evil spirit recognized him and fled."

A realization dawned upon her, understanding the situation now.

Grace remained silent, absorbing the information. She was aware of this general knowledge, not

harboring any envy towards those who had a master to teach them.

Feeling a sense of discomfort, Madam Fowler invited Blake, Lilly, and Grace into her home. With a

perplexed expression, she inquired, "May I ask the reason for your visit?" Her gaze involuntarily shifted

towards Blake.

Knowing the MacNeil family, she couldn't forget the incident where Blake, known as the "God of Battle,"

had humiliated the MacNeil family on numerous occasions, gaining notoriety among the elite circles.

The lady was uncertain about his purpose for seeking her out, which left her uneasy.

Without wasting any words, Blake cut to the chase and inquired, "Did you go to Chris?"

The lady's complexion instantly drained, and her legs gave way, causing her to collapse onto the sofa.

"I... I..."

Maintaining his composure, he reassured her, "There's no need to be afraid. I'm not here to apprehend

you."

The lady was momentarily speechless.

Suddenly, a loud crash resonated outside, and a Bugatti halted in front of the villa. Soon after, the

sound of the gate opening followed. A man's voice queried, "Whose car is this? Whose is it? Where's

my sister-in-law?"

The man's voice preceded his entrance, filled with accusation and anger. "Ah, my sister-in-law has

finally revealed her true colors, huh? Taking hold of my brother's wealth and refusing to let go, now

planning to die and couldn't resist seducing other men, huh?"

"What's the matter? Isn't my brother's wealth enough to leave for his own younger brother? Are you

planning to inherit it all and give it to your lover?" Without delay, the man stormed into the living room,

forcefully pushing aside the glass partition with a loud crash.

Blake raised an eyebrow; so, it was him. The man who had been driving the Maserati moments ago!

Glaring at Blake with evident displeasure, the man recognized the SUV parked at the entrance, even

though he hadn't seen its owner earlier.

"I wondered who would dare to confront me so boldly. Sister-in-law, are you conspiring with your lover

to kill me, your own younger brother?" The man sneered, "Tch, you even have children now? Two of

them?"

Madam Fowler's anger flared, causing her to cough uncontrollably. "You... Mind your tongue!" She

wheezed out and approached him.

This man was Parker Ferguson, Madam Fowler's younger brother-in-law. He chuckled in an eerie

manner and remarked, "Sister-in-law, you always appear so dignified, but who would have thought you

were so promiscuous in secret."

Blake's brows furrowed, reaching his limit of tolerance. Interfering in other people's family affairs was

not his concern. However, with his daughter present, the situation changed. Lilly was only four years

old. The exposure to such words would harm her prospect throughout her life.

Without hesitation, Blake raised his foot and delivered a forceful kick, sending Parker tumbling off the

sofa. As he hit the ground, his lumbar vertebrae emitted an audible crack. Writhing in pain, Parker

glared at Blake and uttered, "You!"

In a composed manner, Blake retorted, "What's that? Craving for a taste of prison food? I can arrange

a free trip for you." His gaze grew colder as he spoke, "I couldn't care less about your family disputes,

but mind your words in my presence. If you provoke me, I won't stop at dismantling a car door; I'll have

no qualms about tearing off your head."

Parker stood there, his mind spinning with disbelief. Unexplainably, an overwhelming sense of fear

washed over him, causing his body to tremble involuntarily. At that moment, he realized how he had

succumbed to cowardice, transforming his initial anger into deep-seated embarrassment.

"A beggar driving a car that's not even worth a million. How dare you threaten me?" Parker jeered, his

voice laced with mockery. "You're desperately trying to seduce a widow. Does living off a woman suit

your taste? Bringing your daughter along to beg for food, fearing she won't learn the art of seduction?

Well, I know a wealthy friend who's quite fond of that. How about I help you send your daughter over?

After all, it's a matter of carrying on the family legacy, isn't it?"

Blake's expression was grim and forbidding. Unbeknownst to Parker, he was about to face the

consequences of his actions. Oblivious to the impending disaster, he merely revealed his belief that his

words had successfully provoked Blake, finding an unwarranted sense of accomplishment. He burst

into laughter, tauntingly exclaiming, "Oh, oh, are you angry now? A pale-faced gigolo who lives off

women wants to tear my head off? Well, come on then! My head is right here, come and tear it off!"

With a mocking grin, he extended his neck closer to Blake, goading him further.