Chapter 1691 It Wasn’t Me

“Not you?” Benoit was shocked. “I am indeed reckless at times, but I am not stupid,” Ansel snorted before explaining himself. “Ettore is with Jules. What kind of assassin is capable of killing them? Someone as powerful as a Demigod?” “You know me very well. I aspire to be the patriarch of the White family, and I even fantasize about it! However, I intend to fight for it fair and square. I will never get things done by playing dirty!” “Is it really not you?” Benoit was still very suspicious of Ansel. “Nope.” Ansel shook his head decisively. Then he walked out of the study, having thought of something. “Could it be him?” Ansel hurriedly walked to another building. Jehan was being locked in his own room inside the building at the time. He was filled with rage, but he couldn't vent it. His front door was slammed open at that precise moment. Benoit accompanied Ansel, as he stormed in angrily from the outside. “Dad, why are you here?” Seeing his father walk in from the outside with an angry face, Jehan looked puzzled. “B*stard! What have you done?” Ansel rushed forward without saying another word and knocked Jehan to the ground. Jehan was perplexed by everything that was happening. Ansel’s fist had rained down on him like a violent storm before he could even explain himself. Ansel scolded, “I’ll f*cking finish this b*stard today!” In some ways, Ansel was responsible for ninety-nine percent of Jehan’s arrogant and domineering personality. He might be even much worse than Jehan was when he was younger. After a while, Ansel had completely beaten Jehan up into a pulp. The boy was in so much pain that he kept shrieking at the top of his lungs. Jehan was completely oblivious to what was going on. Finally, Ansel was exhausted from the beating and took a break. Jehan had a bruised and swollen face at the time. “Dad, you can't go around beating people up without reason,” he protested with tears almost streaming down his cheeks. “I’m staying at home and being obediently confined. Why did you beat me up?” “Why? I’ve told you that you can’t do anything to Olympias!” Ansel kicked Jehan again. “But you just have to send some killers to assassinate them. Where did you get your courage? Tell me, where did you get it from? Who gave you the order to do that?” Jehan was stunned. “Dad, what the hell are you talking about? I have no idea what you mean by all these. When did I send some killers to assassinate Olympias? I have been locked up here all the time. Where can I go to find those killers?” “B*stard, how dare you still talk back to me!” Ansel refused to listen to Jehan’s explanation and gave him another good beating. He had been a ruthless man to begin with. Even though Jehan was his biological son, he showed no mercy. Ansel meant business when he said he was going to beat Jehan to death. “Dad, stop it! It wasn’t me! I really have nothing to do with that. I don’t know anything about those killers at all! I really don't.” “If you don’t stop talking back to me, I will kill you! You came to see me today!” Ansel’s eyes were red, and the blue veins on his forehead were about to burst. “Did you forget what you said to me? Jehan, you got balls of steel, huh? Do you think you’re an adult now and you don’t need to listen to me anymore?” “Dad, I really didn’t do it! Seriously!” Ansel became even more enraged when he saw his son continue to argue and refuse to admit his wrongdoings. His fists were packed with some internal strength this time. Ansel was determined to beat Jehan to death. Benoit, who was standing at the side, appeared to have thought of something at this time. “Brother, stop!” he yelled as he dashed forward. “Stop beating the crap out of him! At this rate, you’re going to kill him.” “I’m going to kill this beast tonight!” Ansel replied. “Ansel, calm down! Jean can’t pull this off! Calm down, please!” “If he didn’t do it, then who did?” Ansel scolded, “Did you know this kid has come to me before and said he wanted to find someone to assassinate Olympias?” “No… It can’t be Jean. All of those killers are Transcendents,” Benoit explained. “There were four Transformations in total. How can Jean have the ability to find four Transformations to pull off this stunt for him?” Ansel was taken aback for a moment. This was a simple question, but because of his impulsiveness, he didn’t think of this. He simply ignored this fact. Benoit was absolutely right. Although Jehan was the son of Master Ansel of the White family, Transformation fighters were not people that anyone could afford to hire. These powerhouses were unquestionably a family’s pillars of strength. Even among powerful men of Ansel’s generation, few could command so many Transformations as well as keep an eye on their family. They would only have one or two at most, and even that was impressive enough. Ansel came to a halt and examined Jehan, who had been badly battered and had a bruised and swollen face. The boy was terrified and trembling. A look of guilt flashed past Ansel’s face. “Jean, get up now! Did I hurt you?” Finally wrapping his head around the situation, Ansel changed his attitude toward Jehan at once. He tried to help the boy up from the ground. Instead, Jehan pushed him away, his eyes filled with tears. He acted as if he was a wife who finally had enough of her husband’s antics. “Go away!” “I was just giving you a way out! Don’t go around thinking I owe you something!!” With that, Ansel made a threatening gesture at Jehan. The boy’s body trembled instinctively in fright. “Humph!” Ansel snorted, then turned around and walked out the door. “Jean, don’t be angry with your father. He can’t help it.” Benoit advised before catching up with Ansel immediately. The two went back to Ansel’s house gloomily. During this time, Ansel and Benoit each received several phone calls. Those were calls from family members who favored supporting them because they had a better relationship with them. The news of Jules and Olympias's assassination attempt on their way back had spread throughout the family. Many people were calling at this point to inquire about the situation as soon as possible. The majority of the family members didn’t need to speculate because they all believe Ansel and his associates orchestrated the murders. “F*ck!” When Ansel first picked up these calls, he was able to explain and refute those speculations. He later smashed his phone because he was upset. “Who is it? Who’s the one that frames me behind my back?” Ansel kept rubbing his temples with his hands with a grumpy look on his face. “No, I will not take the blame!” After that, Ansel walked toward the door. “Brother, where are you going?” “I’m going to find Jules,” Ansel explained, “I didn’t f*cking send anyone to harm him, so I want to make it clear to him.”