She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 549: Die Yourself Layne suddenly fell silent.

Jonathan shrank back, too scared to look towards the chaotic burial ground.

The wind stopped, and everything returned to calm.

A trembling voice sounded in Layne's ear, "Old man, did you ever see any ghosts passing by?" Upon hearing this question, Layne didn't give him a friendly face, but rather snorted bitterly. "Yes, a bunch of idiots passed by me, and when I took a look, oh! One of them was you." Jonathan: "..." If it weren't for being tied up now, Jonathan would fight him definitely.

"You're about to die, yet you still have the mood to argue. I really want to compliment you both for not being afraid of death!" Just as the two were arguing, a tall man in a black and magnificent robe approached. He wore a golden, beast-faced mask. Under the sunlight, it gleamed dazzlingly.

The man exuded a gloomy aura of death, one that could only cfrom long-term immersion in blood. Ordinary people who saw him were mostly too scared to speak.

However, Jonathan still managed to be humorous.

"Hey, young man. Is that mask pure gold? It looks quite impressive. Where did you buy it? If I and this old man buy it together, can we get a buy-one-get-one-free deal?" Old Mr. Edwards stared at the pure gold mask for a few seconds. The familiar patterns on it involuntarily reminded him of many scenes from the past. He... seemed to have seen this mask. Not somewhere else, but on his deceased daughter Selah's painting.

One time, he was painting in the yard, and Selah was grinding ink for him. Seeing his daughter so earnest, he had a sudden idea and asked her to give it a try.

She was mentally weak and hadn't received any professional or systematic training, so it was quite funny that the daughter of the renowned painter Layne could only draw at the level of a kindergartener. Selah drew a person, and you could barely tell it was a person.

That person's face was wearing a golden mask, just like this.

He asked Selah at the twho she had drawn.

With a silly smile, she replied that she didn't know.

Layne just thought she was using her imagination to draw randomly and later forgot about this little episode.

If it weren't for now, this man standing in front of him with the exact smask, he might never have remembered.

However, Selah grew up by his side since she was little, and he could assure that she had never stepped foot outside of Akloit.

How could she have possibly seen this mask? It's strange to mention that copper coin Selah held before her death. Could it be related to these people? The coin is now with Cheyenne, and he must find a way to remind Cheyenne to protect it and not let anyone discover it.

These two individuals, one fearlessly sharp-tongued, and the other lost in thought! They clearly don't consider him a threat.

The man appeared to be a bit angry as he walked over, his hands firmly gripping the necks of old Mr. Edwards and Jonathan, applying pressure with his fingers.

Suddenly deprived of breath, the two old men struggled to breathe through their noses.

Their dirty faces turned red, just like the bark of an old tree scalded by boiling water, wrinkled and reddened. "Cough... Let go... Let go..." Old Mr. Edwards struggled.

Little did he know, the more he struggled, the more it would fuel the man's brutal and bloodthirsty nature. Under the golden mask, his eyes were bloodshot.

A deep and muffled voice emerged from beneath the mask, unusually low, "Do you want to stay alive? If you want to live, then tell me, where is the thing you took from this forest twenty-two years ago?" Twenty-two years ago? Wasn't that the tthey worked on the archaeology project together? Jonathan's eyes widened instantly, and with great difficulty, he glanced at Layne. "Ah, so it was you who caused all this trouble. What exactly did you take from them? Give it back now." "You shut up! I took ssoil from his ancestor's grave. Do you believe me?" "No! I didn't take anything. How can I give it back if I didn't take it?" The man didn't believe Layne's words at all and exerted even more pressure with his hands. "Cough..."

When it seemed like the two would be strangled to death, he suddenly released his grip, sneeking, "Since you're not cooperating, you don't deserve a comfortable death. How about a thrilling one-being buried alive?" Jonathan freed himself from the clutches, his heart pounding uncontrollably. Then he heard another sentence that spiked his adrenaline.

The old man's face, covered in a fell under a bluish-purple color, fell under a cloud of bleak sorrow. He gave a bitter smile. "Old man, today seems like we won't escape death." Layne, however, remained calm and unaffected, raising his head fearlessly.

"What are you afraid of? You're just a lone man. If you die, you die. I'm not the same. I'm afraid of Cheyenne being heartbroken." Jonathan, upon hearing this, grew even more sullen. "I don't feel comforted at all." Amidst their argument, the man with the golden mask clapped his hands, holding a communicative device.

Immediately after, a dark green jeep sped in from the distance, swiftly maneuvering through the dense forest, breaking numerous plants with its wheels.

The front of the car executed a sharp drift, leaving deep tire marks on the ground.

The car door opened, and a sexy woman dressed in a black jumpsuit Ο stepped out, with long slender, NO straight legs, adorned with knee-high black boots. Her hair was tightly tied up, perfectly neat. Her fair skin and exquisite beautiful features made her appear to be in her early thirties, exuding a cold and noble aura.

She got off the car and walked confidently behind the masked man, respectfully bending her waist as if a servant were greeting their master. "Gregory." "They're at your disposal now. If they continue to resist, bury them alive." "Yes."