The Girlboss Begs For Remarriage

Mr. Zoran breathed a sigh of relief-thankfully, things did not get out of hand and were still manageable.

He said, "There's nothing better since everyone has agreed to this wager and to a peaceful solution. As the Zamri Martial Alliance branch manager, I shall be the referee to the fairness of this wager." After, on one hand was the daughter of a Thousand Isles Guild chief, while on the other was a VIP whom the chief of the Martial Alliance had asked to escort.

If they really went for each other's throats, Mr. Zoran would be the loser in the end, since he was caught in the middle.

"So, who's going first?" he asked, glancing between Sanne and Frank.

"Allow me!" Sanne chuckled coolly, walking straight toward the boxing machine and taking aim squarely at the standing punching bag in the middle.

It was quite battered since many martial elites had already taken their turns, but it did not affect the machine precision.

"Look closely! This is the might of Thousand Isles Guild!" she boasted, brandishing her fist.

Then, with low grunt, she struck the punching bag viciously dead center.

Pow!

appeared on the giant

jingle as the numbers soon stopped, stopping at 3,196

"What?!"

number. However, even as they rubbed their eyes, they soon realized

Sanne was just a Birthright-ranked elite and a woman-who usually

was ridiculous that her punch weight reached a number that would pass even an

that the might of

"Ridiculous."

all busy talking among themselves and now regarded Sanne with

in the

woman, she was not intimidated by her male peers in terms of strength-perhaps thanks to her pudgy stature. Even Tijil was nodding in

was absolutely stupid, but her gift as

level a look of contempt at Frank just then. "Your