Unmasking Mrs. Newton's Secret Identities novel Chapter 871

Ambrose and Jenson swiftly positioned themselves on either side of Helen, creating a protective barrier.

"Who are you?" Ambrose asked sharply, standing vigilantly.

"What do you want?" Jenson added, trying to appear intimidating.

Despite knowing they couldn't match Helen's strength, as men, they felt compelled to step forward and protect her in this dangerous situation.

Meanwhile, the vendors and passersby nearby remained unfazed by the commotion.

They carried on with their business and negotiations. It was as if the intense scene unfolding before them belonged to a completely different world.

After a tense standoff, Ambrose narrowed his eyes, prepared to take action. But just as he was about to strike, the burly man in front of him suddenly broke into a sheepish smile.

"Hehe, folks, it was just a joke! Please don't take it the wrong way; what I said earlier was meant literally!"

Jenson was caught off guard, having anticipated a dramatic showdown. He scoffed with disdain and muttered, "What a disappointment."

"Stop grinning like an idiot. Tell me, what are you here for?" Ambrose demanded sternly.

"As I said, I'm here to sell faces. Please, take a look."

As he spoke, the man placed both hands on the back of his head. After a brief pause, he began to pull and stretch his scalp, gripping the hair on either side.

The disturbing sight gave Ambrose and Jenson goosebumps, causing them to instinctively take a step back.

Then, in a shocking move, the man peeled off his entire face.

"Ugh!" Jenson grimaced in disgust, preparing himself for a gruesome sight of blood and gore.

But to his astonishment, the man revealed a much more refined face underneath, appearing to be an entirely different person.

Ambrose was stunned. With Chandler around, did she even need such a disguise?

"I'm Seymour Butz," the man replied courteously.

"Tell me the truth," Helen demanded, her tone growing more assertive.

As Helen's words trailed off, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out his ID card, holding it up for her to see.

Glancing at it, Helen murmured to herself, "So, you really are Seymour Butz."

"Why did your mother…" Helen paused, choosing her words carefully. After a moment of contemplation, she asked, "What was your father's reasoning for giving you this name?"

"What's wrong with my name? It's easy to remember, isn't it? My eldest brother is Harry Butz, the second one is Hugh Butz, and I'm the third. What other name would I have been called if not Seymour Butz?" Seymour replied earnestly.