No Substitutes for the Bigshots' Dream Girl Anymore!-Chapter 1631: Conclusion

To become the sharpest weapon in his hand, only to be forced to end her life once she was no longer useful.

"Your mother once said, I am your father, you cannot hurt me, I am the last of your kin in this world. Let’s say I made mistakes in the past, whatever you want, I will give it to you... the throne, I give you the throne, starting today you are the heir to the throne, you are the first princess..."

He wailed, losing all the high-and-mighty airs of a king.

He was genuinely afraid.

But also regretful, regretting that he had not eliminated her completely in those days.

A thought flashed through his mind, meeting Hannah’s eyes, he quickly put on a pitiful and sorrowful demeanor.

"Hannah, it was your father who was wrong before, let’s forget the past, from now on your father will treat you well, you are my own daughter..."

"Really?" Hannah looked thoughtful, as if she believed him.

The king hastily nodded, but his hand reached out and touched the scepter that had fallen to the ground.

At the bottom of the scepter was a sharp sword.

"You know, your mother always thought of you, she always asked me to find you, she wanted to see you."

Hannah looked at the disheveled man in front of her.

He was just pretending to be shocked, regretful, and infatuated, but what remained were the tears of a crocodile, hypocritical and ridiculous.

"That year, I was forced to do what I did, Hannah, you have to understand me, I am your father, if I hadn’t done that, the empire wouldn’t have a place for me, I would have been driven out..."

"Is that an excuse?" Hannah’s face was expressionless, quietly watching him perform.

The king nodded and then shook his head, his words muddled.

"Every person who betrays and commits evil always has countless excuses."

Hannah stood up, playing with the sharp dagger in her hand.

The dagger was sharp, reflecting a fierce and twisted face in the cold light.

The king gripped the scepter tightly and lunged directly at Hannah, "Since it’s like this, father will just have to let you die once more!"

Outside the window, dark clouds scattered, the moonlight became hazy, no stars were visible, only the cold wind blew sporadically, bringing solitude.

The hand holding the long sword seeped fresh blood, drops of which fell to the ground below, like blood flowers blooming under the night sky.

Hannah sighed, the dagger moved slightly, the smile at the corner of her lips gradually faded, her voice soft and icy, "Southport, Squad Six, and many more—they’re all waiting for you in hell."

A hundred years ago, Southport was destroyed.

Years later, she returned, and truly, there was no place for her in this world anymore.

Stepping out of the hall, Hannah took a deep breath, as if everything had suddenly become clear.

She met Arnold Simmons’ gaze, and a smile spread across her eyes.

However, Arnold frowned, "Are you hurt?"

Hannah looked down at her right hand, the wound in the palm had stopped bleeding but hadn’t healed yet, left by the king’s scepter that she had blocked earlier.

In fact, she could have dodged that strike.

Using her hand to block...

Arnold took her wrist gently, "Does it still hurt?"

Hannah looked up at him, his cautious appearance made her involuntarily smile, shaking her head, "It doesn’t hurt anymore, it should heal soon."

Arnold took a handkerchief and wiped the blood from her palm.

The entire process was very quiet.

Hannah could feel a tingling itch in her palm, not painful, but that sensation burrowed straight into her heart.

"Where’s Wayne Lane?" she looked around.

Arnold replied softly, "He left."

Hannah met his gaze, smiling as she explained, "Wayne and I used to be classmates."