Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine

Chapter 157: Onyx stood frozen, caught off guard by the relentless barrage of questions.

Beads of cold sweat gathered at his temples, trickling down his face.

I just forgot, okay? he stammered in a panic, his voice faltering as his eyes darted around the room for an escape.

The comic has tons of pages! Theres no way I can keep track of it all... But his excuse fell flat, hanging awkwardly in the tense air.

It was clear to everyone that his words were hollow.

The audience knew better they understood that every comic was painstakingly crafted, each stroke of the pen a product of the artists dedication.

Forgetting an illustration might have been believable, but the theme? The very essence of the story? That was unforgivable! This guys spouting nonsense, throwing out accusations without proof! Onyx shouted desperately.

Why dont you get him out of here? He frantically signaled to the security personnel, but the crowd wasnt having it.

The reporters surged forward, cameras flashing and microphones thrust in his face, as though they had been waiting for this very moment to unravel him.

Even sfans in the crowd began murmuring uneasily.

I remember thinking it was a printing error at first, one of them said, frowning.

The chapter was supposed to be about friendship, but the title was all about shallow romance.

But how cOnyx doesnt remember anything about it? Another nodded in agreement.

That young man has a point.

The later chapters felt completely out of sync with the earlier ones.

I thought maybe Onyx was exhausted and rushed through it.

The thof a comic is its soul, someone else muttered, brows furrowed in thought.

No creator would just forget about his own comics soul, right? They had all loved the comic, and by extension, admired the artist who had brought their favorite characters to life.

But now, hearing Onyxs shaky excuses, they sensed that something was off, doubt beginning to seep in.

Mr.

Jimenez, one reporter called out firmly, youd better explain yourself.

And the best way to prove yourself is to just draw something on the spot! Con, Mr.

Jimenez, draw something right now.

Or are you guilty of stealing someone elses work to make a nfor yourself in the comic world? If so, then whos the real creator? Onyxs mind raced as questions spiraled around him, each one piercing deeper than the last.

He knew that if he couldnt offer a solid explanation today, his career would be ruined, his future hanging by a thread.

The comics still ongoing, Garry said, locking eyes with Onyx as he continued to taunt.

If youve got nothing to hide, why not sketch a page from the upcoming plot? Itd prove both your originality and your capabilities.

Guilt and shgnawed at Onyx, but he quickly pushed those feelings aside, taking deep, steady breaths. He had just glanced over the discarded drafts yesterday; there was no way hed forget them so soon. Besides, he had been copying peoples work for years his skill at imitation had becsecond nature. What was another forgery at this point? Fine, Ill do it, Onyx said, letting out a theatrical sigh. But Ive been sick lately.

My hands a bit shaky, so if there are any flaws, Id appreciate your understanding.

He tried to sound humble, but inwardly, he scoffed arrogantly.

After so many years of perfecting the art of mimicry, he was confident the result would still look convincing at the very least, an 80% match.

With all eyes on him, Onyx picked up his pencil.

Sweat prickled his skin, but he willed himself to focus.

Yet, as his hand hovered over the blank page, something unexpected happened his nerves betrayed him.

There was a twhen, as an editor, Onyx would sketch casually, often refining artists drafts.

But those days felt like a distant memory; fand fortune had dulled his edge.

These days, he hired people to draw for him, so he barely picked up the pencil himself.

Now, the moment his pencil touched the paper, his hand trembled uncontrollably.

By the the finished the drawing, he was drenched in sweat, as though hed just run a marathon. Though he had managed to recreate the latest scene, anyone with a discerning eye could see the glaring difference the lines lacked the fluid grace of the original, the style painfully inconsistent.

Melany shifted uncomfortably beside him.

Her confidence in Onyx wavered, but with all eyes on them, she had no choice but to defend him.

Onyx has been unwell, and his hand isnt steady, she explained, her voice strained but determined. Plus, hes always hated drawing in front of others.

The fact that he managed this much under pressure, and that it still resembles the original, proves he must be the real creator! The crowd, which had been buzzing with doubt moments earlier, began to murmur in uncertainty as Melanys words took root.

Though the artwork indeed looked like a clumsy imitation, the storyline remained intact.

The rough handling of details still met the basic expectations of the audience.

After all, comic book artists were known for their quirks, and being too anxious to draw under pressure was not unheard of.

But once a seed of doubt was planted, it was only a matter of tbefore it took root.

Sure enough, sof the more observant fans began to step forward, voicing their concerns.

Hold on! The heroine is supposed to be a tough, independent woman, but in this version, she looks like shes trying too hard to please everyone.

Isnt that out of character? And look at this! The Sunset Tower is a crucial location in the cornic, and its supposed to have four windows, right? But here theres not even one.

How is that possible? Even the ocean waves look off.

They used to crash against the shore with such power, but now they seem more like ripples in a pond.

Wheres the emotion, the depth? The art style is close, but its too rough, like it was rushed.

We could excuse Onyx for hurrying to meet a deadline before, but why is it so sloppy now, especially when hes trying to prove something? Moreover, the disconnect with earlier chapters is impossible to ignore. Onyx, who had hoped to weather this debacle, turned visibly pale.

As the murmurs of discontent from the crowd grew louder, he struggled to maintain his composure.

It was just a mistake, he muttered, his voice faltering.

The art style is nearly identical, and the plot still fits! I drew drewthisthe m insisted though his words lacked En! conviction. Garry, listening intently to a voice in his earpiece, calmly reached into his pocket.

Slowly, he unfolded a piece of paper, revealing a sketch of the unpublished scene.

My mentor knew youd be drawing this scene, so she prepared this in advance, Garry announced. Whether this is plagiarism or not, I think its tfor everyone to judge for themselves. All eyes turned toward the sketch.

It was an exact replica of what Onyx had just presented, but with one glaring difference. The brushwork was far more refined, seamlessly aligning with the comics original style. Even the panel layouts were more fluid, more masterful than the rough attempts Onyx had shown. From the intricate character designs to the finer details, there wasnt a single flaw in sight.