What kind of person was Miss Chelsea?
Most rumors about her in District 25 painted her as ruthless and mercilessly decisive-a born capitalist, one might say.
Under her leadership, the Nathen Conglomerate had weathered its internal power struggles. At just twenty-six, this chairwoman had single-handedly consolidated the conglomerate, ending years of division.
In District 25, Miss Chelsea could perhaps be counted among its few living legends, someone who truly stood at the very top.
Although the Nathen Conglomerate had shown some signs of decline in recent years for various reasons, its standing among the leading conglomerates still could not be ignored.
And yet, this living legend was now prostrate at someone's feet.
-Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
These questions flashed through Chelsea's mind. Images flickered before her eyes like slides, but her head was too foggy to focus.
Although her dignity and pride warned her not to do it, her body still chose to submit of its own accord.
The moment her forehead touched the floor, an overwhelming sense of submission seemed to make her forget everything. It was as though something dormant within her had awakened, leaving her mind utterly blank.
She could not clearly remember what happened afterward, but even the scattered fragments of memory made her blush furiously.
Birdsong drifted in from outside the window. Chelsea felt as though her body had been completely emptied out. She had never felt so relaxed.
In stark contrast, however, her heart was filled with resentment and humiliation.
Once her mind cleared, the first thing she wanted to do was teach Jonas Wetting a lesson. What he had done to her was an outright insult to her dignity.
Even harder to admit was the fact that she had actually gone along with it, as though possessed.