Outcast Queen: Her Return from Hell novel Chapter 317

The ring light clicked on, and Phoebe launched her live stream.

Riding high on the golden label of 'The Prescott Heiress' and backed by the Prescott family's bottomless marketing budget, the stream's popularity exploded instantly. The viewer count skyrocketed at an unnatural, dizzying pace.

On-screen, Phoebe's makeup was meticulously crafted, heavily emphasizing a wide-eyed, innocent vulnerability. Every subtle movement screamed 'elegant but fragile aristocrat,' instantly pulling at the heartstrings of the audience.

[Is this Phoebe, the adopted daughter of the Prescott family? Oh my god, she looks literally angelic!]

[You can tell a person's character from their face. A girl this gorgeous has to be pure-hearted. No wonder she got bullied by that ex-con Phoenix!]

[Baby, did you go live to expose Phoenix's crimes? We're behind you!]

While neutral viewers were still getting settled, a pre-paid army of internet trolls stormed the chat, fiercely weaponizing the narrative and aiming their crosshairs directly at Phoenix.

Phoebe discreetly glanced at the viewer count sitting pretty at several hundred thousand. A micro-expression of smug victory flashed across her lips before she seamlessly shifted gears, adopting a tearful, deeply devastated look.

"Good evening, everyone..." Her voice was soft and heavily congested, sounding so broken that it melted the audience's defenses. "The only reason I found the courage to stream tonight is to stand up for my two dear friends—Cassandra and Lydia."

She paused, her eyes dropping as if weighed down by agonizing guilt. "I stayed silent before because I naively believed that if I just kept enduring her abuse, my sister would eventually turn over a new leaf and give her victims the closure they deserve."

Right on cue, a single, perfectly timed tear slipped from her eye, tracing a tragic path down her pale cheek.

This masterclass display of delicate vulnerability instantly shattered the netizens' psychological barriers.

[Don't cry, baby! Your kindness should be saved for people who deserve it, not wasted on protecting a monster!]

[This breaks my heart. What kind of psychological torture did Phoenix put you through? Wipe your tears, she's not worth it!]

Phoebe acted as if she was drawing strength from the supportive comments.

"Thank you, thank you for your support. You're right, my tears aren't worth shedding for evil people!" She then stared bravely into the lens, looking as though she were locking eyes with her abuser.

"Sister, please don't blame me for being ruthless. I just want to seek justice for the people who are genuinely kind."

With a gentle tap of her finger, she switched the broadcast feed to a pre-recorded video.

In the footage, Cassandra and Lydia looked absolutely petrified. They were collapsing to the ground and groveling in sheer terror, their bodies shaking violently.

Although the audio had been stripped, the visual of Phoenix standing over them with an aura of untouchable, arrogant dominance perfectly illustrated a tyrant abusing her power.

Phoebe's tearful, emotionally manipulative confession successfully painted Phoenix as an ungrateful, irredeemable sociopath.

The chat completely derailed. The comments moved so fast they became a blur, filled exclusively with death wishes and curses aimed at Phoenix, condemning her to hell for being such a disgrace to humanity.

Meanwhile, in the top-floor conference room of Ignis Global.

The massive floor-to-ceiling windows shut out the noise of the city, but they couldn't block out the apocalyptic backlash storming the web.

Macy stared at the tablet, her entire body shaking with rage. "That little grifter has the word 'bitch' practically tattooed on her forehead! How many times has she been exposed, and yet she still has the sheer audacity to sit there and play the innocent victim?!"

"Ms. Prescott, the public has completely lost their minds." Yolanda looked at Phoenix, her eyes clouded with intense anxiety. "If we let this escalate any further, extremists might start threatening your physical safety. Are we really not fighting back?"

Sitting in the dead center of the storm, Phoenix acted as if she hadn't heard a word.

Her slender fingers lifted a bone-china coffee cup to her lips, and she took a slow sip. She looked as utterly detached as a casual observer watching a movie.

"The timing isn't right yet."