That simple sentence instantly elevated the man's charisma.

  Grace looked at him and smiled. "Thank you."

  Eden Quinn's gaze lingered on her smiling face for two seconds, then he turned and walked away.

  Before long, the thin young officer returned to take Grace and the others to sign documents and pay the fine. By the time everything was wrapped up, it was past midnight.

  "I'm so sleepy, sweetie. The dorms are locked. Let's find a hotel nearby to crash for the night." Scarlett was so tired she seemed to have lost her spine, half-draped against Grace as she whined.

  Grace nodded. She couldn't be bothered to go home either—Aethelburg University of Science and Technology was two districts away from The Royal Manor, and a taxi ride would take over half an hour.

  "Come to my place, if you don't mind," Mauve suddenly offered.

  Grace blinked. "Your place? Nearby?"

  "The dojo. Not far."

  This perked Scarlet right up. She straightened, eyes wide. "A dojo around here? Mauve, you don't live in a courtyard house, do you?"

  Mauve looked at them and gave a slight nod.

  Grace and Scarlett exchanged glances. A courtyard house within the central district in Aethelburg—market value wasn't exactly lower than the villas at The Royal Manor.

  As they exited the police station, a jeep was parked by the roadside. Eden Quinn stood by the door, smoking.

  Seeing them come out, he turned, opened the car door, leaned in to grab a business card, and walked toward them.

  "I need to use the bathroom," Scarlett suddenly announced. Looking around, she spotted a public restroom sign glowing in the distance. Mauve didn't want her going alone. "I'll go with you."

  As they walked off, Eden reached Grace and stopped, handing her a card.

  Grace assumed it was his personal card. Looking down, she saw it was the Westlane Road Police Substation's official card. Eden said seriously, "Save our substation's emergency number. Next time something like this happens, call us immediately. Within a five-kilometer radius, our response time is guaranteed under fifteen minutes."

  Stolen story; please report.

  "You're quite dedicated!" Grace remarked with a slight pout.

  Eden looked at her, his voice low. "Beautiful women tend to encounter these situations often. An extra layer of precaution never hurts."

  Grace met his gaze. He didn't look away, holding eye contact.

  The next moment, amusement danced in Grace's eyes. She spoke directly. "Then give me your personal contact info too. I'll take an extra precaution."

  Grace was someone who played straight. The atmosphere was exactly right—if she didn't ask now, she might never get another chance to see this man.

  And she didn't believe for a second that he'd come over just to hand her the station's business card.

  The best hunters always appear as prey.

  Sure enough, Eden pulled out his phone without hesitation and opened his LetsChat QR code. "Scan it."

  Grace's smile deepened. She unlocked her phone and added him.

  "Eden Quinn."

  "Grace Dorothy."

  After they saved each other's names, Grace turned to leave but Eden called her back.

  She looked over her shoulder, puzzled. "Something else?"

  Eden didn't beat around the bush. "You don't have a boyfriend, do you?"

  "Guess you'll have to try and find out." Grace smiled slightly, her gaze dropping to the cigarette between his fingers, nearly burnt out. She raised an eyebrow. "Smoking—points deducted."

  With that, she turned and walked toward Scarlett and Mauve.

  Eden's eyes followed her retreating figure. Finally, a smile tugged at his own lips. He'd known it from the start—this girl had been sizing him up with that unabashed stare the moment he walked in. She had designs on him.

  Grace...

  He opened her profile picture. It was pretty, but she was even prettier in person. What really drew him was that rare quality about her—he couldn't quite describe it, but it was magnetic.

  Not many people dared stare at him like that.

  As Grace and Scarlett had guessed, the dojo Mauve mentioned was a courtyard house tucked away in a nearby alley.

  Red brick walls, vermillion gates. Both of them looked up at the plaque hanging above the entrance: Treasure Forest Dojo. Two red lanterns glowed on either side.

  It was late, so Mauve didn't knock. Instead, she sent a voice message on LetsChat.

  "Momo? What is it this late?"

  "Senior, I'm at the door. Come open up."

  Scarlett blinked at Mauve, confused. "Your senior calls you Momo? Is your full name Mauve Momo Wiener?"

  Mauve sighed. "Nickname."

  Within a minute, a young man in a vest and shorts opened the door from inside. He blinked at the two unfamiliar faces—Grace and Scarlett.

  Mauve quickly explained, "My roommates. We were out and lost track of time—the dorms are locked."

  "This is my senior."

  Grace and Scarlett immediately greeted him. "Hello, Senior."

  Howard Art smiled awkwardly and gestured for them to come in.

  "It's late. Get some rest. Keep it down—don't wake the others."

  Mauve nodded and led Grace and Scarlett to her room. It was small—just a 1.5-meter bed and a single sofa.

  "I'll take the sofa. You two take the bed. Rough it." Mauve opened a cabinet, pulling out clean towels and toiletries. "Who's showering first?"

  Scarlett shot her hand up. "Me! I'm dead tired."

  More fussing. By the time Grace lay down, she glanced at the clock: 2 a.m.

  When she opened her eyes again, it was broad daylight. She'd been woken by shouting.

  Scarlett was pressed against the door, ear to the wood, listening intently. Seeing Grace awake, she waved her over urgently. "Mauve's getting yelled at. Come listen."

  Grace felt like she hadn't slept at all, dragging her groggy head over. The courtyard was spacious, but the shouter's lungs were formidable—they could hear every word clearly from inside the room.

  In the main hall up front, Sam Art stared at the money on the table, tiger eyes glaring at Mauve as he demanded, "Where did this money really come from? If you don't tell me, you'll kneel here all day!"

  Mauve knelt in the center of the hall, head bowed. Her expression was calm, but her eyes burned with defiance. "I earned it with my own skills. Just keep it, Master."

  "Your own skills?" Sam Art slammed the table. His deep internal strength shattered the solid wood table beside him into pieces. "Quite the skill you've got!"

  Howard Art watched anxiously from the side, unable to contain himself. "Dad, Momo knows her limits. She earned money to help Mom—"

  "Shut up!" Sam Art turned his indiscriminate fury on his son. "You'd better not know anything about this. If I find out you've been covering for her, I'll deal with you too!"

  He turned back to Mauve. His expression was stern, but the worry in his eyes was undeniable.

  "Not talking? Then kneel there until you're ready to talk. You're not getting up until you do."