After Victor Jordan retreated with his jaw set in a mask of silent fury, Ethan Smith turned back to his sister, his brow furrowed with a protective edge. "Who exactly is that man, Iris? He seemed remarkably bold to lay claim to you like that."Iris Smith let out a weary sigh, the kind of sound a woman makes when she has spent too long swatting away persistent flies. "That’s Victor Jordan. He’s the quintessential spoiled scion of the Jordan Corporation. His father is a massive textile and raw material supplier for the industry. I met him during a contract negotiation a few years ago, and he’s been a shadow I can’t shake ever since." She looked at the trash can where the necklace had been discarded. "Out of professional courtesy to his father, I’ve tried to remain polite, but today he crossed a line I won't ignore."She tightened her grip on Ethan’s arm, her mood shifting from irritation to a desperate need for celebration. She led him into a nearby upscale seafood and hotpot restaurant

In the quiet luxury of a private estate's drawing room, the air was heavy with the scent of aged sandalwood and the silent hum of high-stakes power. Catherine Jones stood at a respectful distance, her posture military-straight, as she addressed the man standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows."Supreme King," she began, her voice low but clear. "The Governor of Veridian has caught wind of your presence in Ambershire. He is requesting an audience to pay his formal respects."Ethan Smith didn't turn around. He was watching the city lights flicker like distant embers. "If destiny wills it, we shall cross paths. For now, tell him his courtesy is noted, but I am not receiving guests. Now, give me the status report on the task I assigned you."This was Ethan’s primary concern. He found it almost laughable that a bumbling fool like Victor Jordan had actually called the police, unable to recognize the weight of the Badge of Dragon he had glimpsed earlier that night. While Ethan himself didn't

After departing from the Mosaic Tower, Ethan Smith and Iris Smith navigated the morning congestion of Ambershire, arriving at the sprawling complex of the local People’s Hospital in just under thirty minutes. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the frantic energy of the emergency wing greeted them as they hurried toward the high-security trauma ward.Standing vigil outside the heavy double doors of the intensive care unit was a woman in a crisp tactical uniform, her eyes weary from a long night of violence. Mary Hopkins stepped forward as they approached, offering a formal yet somber nod. "Miss Iris Smith, I am Mary Hopkins, lead tactical assistant to Governor Bree Smith. Thank you for coming so quickly.""How is she, Mary?" Iris asked, her voice trembling, her hands twisting the fabric of her designer coat. "Can we see her?""You may," Mary replied, stepping aside to push open the heavy door. "But please, be prepared. It was a brutal engagement."The three of them entered the room. L

The legend of Master Scott Hughes had been shattered in a single, fluid heartbeat.For over three decades, the Herman family had treated the old man as their ultimate insurance policy, a living god of combat who had never tasted defeat. In the insular, power-hungry circles of Ambershire, Master Scott was a name that commanded silence; he was the primary reason no other rival family dared to encroach upon the Hermans' territory. But now, that pillar of strength lay crumpled on the marble, his severed hand a grotesque testament to his sudden obsolescence."I... I gave my life to this house," Master Scott wheezed, his face a ghostly mask of shock. He looked at the stump of his wrist, then at the girl in pink who stood with her blade held low. "There is no way... a girl your age... you are a monster from the Hall of Supreme."The elite Guards of the Earth, who had been poised to strike just moments before, were now paralyzed. They were witnessing the impossible. If their

The atmosphere outside the Ambershire People's Hospital had shifted from a medical vigil to a high-stakes political theater. Julian Herman stood off to the side, a cold, predatory smirk dancing on his lips. To him, the situation was perfect; if he could orchestrate the downfall of Ethan Smith, he could simultaneously drag down the eldest sister, Iris Smith, for harboring a criminal and potentially drive the recovering Bree Smith into a fatal relapse through pure grief. It was a triple kill, a masterstroke of Machiavellian maneuvering.However, Governor Chris Stinson felt the heavy weight of the situation. He was caught between the influential Schlesinger family and the rapidly ascending power of the Smith sisters, who now had the ear of the state's highest leadership. Arresting Iris Smith was out of the question; if she were detained and later complained to the state Governor, Stinson's career would be over before the next election cycle."Iris Smith, please, calm yourself