Chen Xiu stared at Texas for a moment.
She seemed… lighter than before, as if something had finally loosened.
So that was it.
Her body had escaped the family, but her mind still carried the imprint.
That kind of thing didn't vanish overnight. It needed time and a new environment.
Texas needed a new way of living—one completely different from her past.
Her family life had been oppressive, binding, quiet.
The counterweight would be freedom, recklessness, loud joy.
That was what Penguin Logistics could give her.
If Chen Xiu was going to "steal" her away, he had to do even better.
A stage where you could go wild without fearing consequences…
Just imagining it made his blood run hot.
"Texas," he said, patting her shoulder, "go take a shower. Tobacco's bite and silent endurance might be Texas's flavor. But I don't think it's Celinia's."
Texas froze.
She hadn't said anything, yet Chen Xiu had seen through her at once.
Being understood like that felt like a strange poison—softening what was hard inside her.
"Okay." Her smile turned brighter, and she walked toward the bathroom with steady steps.
But the way her tail bounced and wagged behind her made her mood painfully obvious.
Hearing the shower run, Chen Xiu looked toward Grey Tail Hall.
The clash had quieted, but it was only the overture.
The denouement was still coming.
[The Grey Tail Hall vs. Zhongyi Hall conflict will temporarily subside after 2 a.m… and a life-or-death ring match will be set later.]
The Rat King might have been testing his daughter.
But Zhongyi Hall was clearly stalling.
[Zhongyi Hall's boss is planning an attack on Grey Tail Hall… date unknown.]
"What are they waiting for?" Chen Xiu murmured. "Or what are they missing?"
He couldn't guess Zhongyi Hall's hidden card.
An attack on Grey Tail Hall would have to be decisive.
At minimum, they'd cripple Grey Tail Hall—otherwise the attacker would end up defending.
"Not urgent," Chen Xiu said softly under the twin moons. "Even building a stage takes time."
…
"Fight! Fight! Come on, fight already!!"
On a rooftop "VIP seat," Emperor danced like a child in ecstasy.
"Nice kick from the little mouse! Oh—big cat's punch is solid too! Huh? A Vouivre? Not common in Yan—hehe! And the old rat finally came out too! Now this is a show!"
Emperor hadn't expected Chen Xiu to stir up a war between new and old powers in under three days.
It started as a manhunt.
Then somehow turned into a direct gang conflict.
And Chen Xiu himself vanished cleanly into the background.
Even Emperor couldn't quite tell how he'd pulled it off.
But that didn't matter.
The point was: the kid could handle things.
Still, the scale was a bit small. If the whole slum erupted—if all gangs started moving—that would be truly exhilarating.
"Ah, whatever." Emperor patted his belly. "Some fun is better than none. Watching the old rat and a Vouivre go at it is still good!"
Then the Rat King talked briefly—and both sides dispersed.
Emperor petrified.
A heartbeat later, he sprang straight up.
"Over?! How can it be over?! Old rat, they came to your door—you can't just back down! And you—Vouivre—being scared of your wife is one thing, but scared of a rat too?!"
No matter how mad Emperor got, the agreement stood.
They returned to their corners.
Hands on hips atop the roof, Emperor fumed until he couldn't take it anymore and finally did a forward flip—straight into a concrete "dive."
He wouldn't die anyway.
If the fun wasn't perfect, he'd become the fun himself.
A freely flying penguin-man—launch!
…
Back home, Ch'en opened the lights, kicked off her damp sneakers, and winced as her toes curled inside wet socks.
Her clothes were mostly dry, but canal water was filthy—she still needed to wash them.
Hot water hit her body. She stood under the shower, head tilted back.
Her muscles relaxed—yet her mind replayed the night.
It was more thrilling than everything since she joined the L.G.D. combined.
From deciding to investigate, to being chased, to being rescued, to helping someone reclaim justice.
It played like a big-budget cop-gang film.
Her hands traced down her body—and paused at her waist.
For a second, she could almost feel warm hands still braced there.
Her dragon tail flicked—there was no one behind her.
"That Sarkaz…" she muttered, unreadable.
But Chen Xiu truly felt different from every Sarkaz she'd met.
Sarkaz civilians were often timid, crushed by discrimination, terrified of trouble.
Sarkaz mercenaries were infamous—black-hearted and lawless.
She'd met educated, well-mannered Sarkaz too, but their arrogance made them unpleasant.
Chen Xiu was none of that.
His attitude—equal footing, genuine conversation—made her feel strangely comfortable.
If Yan had a known Sarkaz clan, she might've questioned his origins.
With his help, the second half of this "cop film" might finally get a satisfying ending.
She shut off the water, wrapped herself in a towel, and sat on the sofa with her terminal.
Hoshiguma had already sent preliminary interrogation results on Han Jin.
"So he went into debt just to be Top Donor in a virtual streamer's room… then realized the lender behind it was Zhongyi Hall? Han Jin is unbelievably stupid…"
Then her eyes fell on the attached image.
Ch'en froze.
That virtual streamer looked… familiar.
A memory resurfaced.
Han Jin went from "stupid" to "tragically stupid," with a sprinkle of pity.
"Both the streamer and the loans are Zhongyi Hall?" she murmured. "Is this some kind of new online crime?"
Her instincts snapped upright.
If so, the damage wasn't limited to the slums anymore.
.....
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