The 24th Century Warrior Became a Fake Heiress novel Chapter 1

"Isabella, can't you understand? You owe her an apology.

"Is this the kind of upbringing those foster folks out in the country gave you?

"You have absolutely no manners at all!"

The glow from the extravagant crystal chandelier hanging high above was blinding. Isabella blinked hard a few times, trying to fight off the dizziness, and let out an annoyed mumble. "So loud."

Who's rambling on like this?

Don't they know you're supposed to stay quiet when laying an ambush for an S-class beast?

If someone was looking for a death wish, she could handle them herself.

No need for all this racket.

Isabella Powell opened her eyes, her gaze icy cold, and saw a middle-aged man across from her staring at her in utter disbelief, shouting, "How dare you talk to me like that?!"

As the words left his mouth, he raised his hand to slap her again.

Only then did Isabella feel the sharp sting on her cheek. She ran her tongue gently over her lip and tasted the metallic, coppery tang of blood.

A flicker of anger flashed in her eyes.

This man actually hit her?

Ever since she awakened her SSS-class ability, no one had ever dared to raise their voice at her, let alone lay a finger on her.

And now this middle-aged man had just slapped her across the face.

Calmly, Isabella grabbed his wrist mid-swing and slapped him right back.

"Idiot. What's wrong with talking to you like that? You think you can just—"

She cut herself off abruptly.

A flood of memories rushed through her mind.

It turned out she was now the biological daughter of the Powell family, who had just been brought home after going missing fifteen years ago. The Powells were one of the most prominent wealthy families in Caporia, obsessed with their public image and social status above all else.

Tragically, the daughter they had lost fifteen years prior had grown into an uncultured country girl. Crude and unrefined, she lacked every ounce of grace and poise expected of a wealthy heiress—and had turned the entire family into a laughingstock among the city's elite circles.

Right now, Isabella had gotten into an argument with Hannah Powell, which was why Daniel Powell was furious and trying to "teach her a lesson".

And Daniel was the father of this body—the same middle-aged man who had just tried to strike her.

Even as the memories flooded her mind, her hands never faltered.

She had been raised like a lone wolf, with no concept of family ties or affection.

Besides, Daniel had never raised the original girl at all. What right did he have to act like a father now?

Teach me a lesson?

Not a chance. Anyone tries me, they're getting it right back.

Isabella kept her composure and struck Daniel hard across the face, making him stumble backward.

But this body was far too weak.

She frowned slightly, noticing that her slap had only made him take one step back.

Back in her own world, even a light flick of her wrist would have left him severely injured.

She frowned again, then realized something else—there was no spiritual energy in this world like the one she came from.

This was a fully modern society, with lush green mountains, clear rivers, and bright blue skies.

It was nothing like her home, filled with scorching suns, towering mechas, and cold steel structures.

As Isabella stood there frowning, Hannah hurried forward to steady Daniel, then immediately turned to shout at Isabella, her voice shrill.

"Isabella, how could you do something like that?!

"Dad was only trying to help you! How could you hit him?

"And this whole thing was clearly your fault!

"You pushed me, and now you're being completely unreasonable!

"You—you're way out of line!"

Tears welled up in Hannah's eyes.

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