Xiao Feng found himself at a loss, especially when Aiwei made such provocative remarks in front of everyone—it left him more than a little embarrassed. Before he could respond, the young Alice, cheeks puffed in indignation, glared at Aiwei and declared, "Sister Aiwei, hmph! If you keep saying things like that, I won't talk to you anymore!"
Aiwei laughed, swooping Alice into a tight embrace and planting a dramatic kiss on her cheek. "I know, I know," she teased. "He's your Brother Xiao Feng... but he's also my Little Brother Xiao Feng, isn't he?"
Alice wriggled free from Aiwei's grasp and darted to Old White's side, pouting as she complained, "Sister Aiwei is bullying me…"
Laughter rang through the group, warm and hearty.
Once the chuckles subsided, Xiao Feng turned to Old White. "Alright then, shall we get going?"
Old White nodded. "Turner, let's move out."
Xiao Feng glanced at Turner. "You're all heading back?"
Turner gave a slight nod. "Yes, we'd like to return and take a look around."
Xiao Feng frowned slightly. "My vehicle only seats three in the back. If you and Uncle ride together, it's going to be tight…"
Turner chuckled. "No problem. Let Brann take the trunk."
Brann's expression fell immediately. "Why me?! Must misfortune always choose me?!"
Their laughter erupted again, the camaraderie palpable. Xiao Feng didn't object to bringing Brann along—after all, another seasoned mercenary meant another layer of protection. Brann was nothing if not cunning and battle-hardened.
Weapons and gear were loaded into the trunk—along with a disgruntled Brann—before Xiao Feng bid farewell to the other members of the X Mercenary Corps and drove off toward Protected Zone No. 64.
At the gates of the League's Second Bureau of Paranormal Management in Black Whale City, a sleek armored jet helicopter began its descent. The logo emblazoned on its hull identified it as a custom model manufactured by the Braum Corporation—not military issue, nor property of the League—clearly for corporate use, designed to defend its own interests.
Kelly stepped out of the bureau doors, a serene smile playing at her lips as she gazed up at the descending aircraft.
When the automatic hatch slid open, a distinguished man emerged. Though slightly older, his features bore a striking resemblance to Kelly's. His golden hair was slicked neatly back, and a pair of aviator sunglasses accentuated his refined, commanding aura. The perfectly tailored suit he wore was clearly of exorbitant quality. As he approached, he lit a cigar with deliberate ease.
Kelly strode forward, arms open wide. "Uncle Hibbler! You've finally come. I've been through hell, you know…"
This man was not just Kelly's uncle—he was also her twin brother's father, Hibbler Braum. To those acquainted with the inner workings of the Four Great Consortiums, his identity needed no introduction: second-largest shareholder of the Braum Corporation.
Indeed, if Hibbler hadn't arrived, the League's Paranormal Management Bureau might never have realized that Kelly's father was none other than Jerry Braum—executive president of the military-industrial Braum Corporation and its largest shareholder.
Embracing Kelly warmly, Hibbler clapped her on the back and laughed heartily. "My dear girl! Who dared to mistreat you? Just name them—I'll settle the score!"
Their bond was clearly deep. Hibbler had always treated Kelly as his own daughter, which explained the close relationship between Kelly and her brother Kerry.
Kelly, feigning pitiful indignation, said, "It was that bastard Henry! He bullied me and even locked Kerry up. He's still not released him!"
Without a word, Hibbler marched into the League's headquarters, puffing his cigar and removing his sunglasses. "No need to worry now," he said coolly. "Your uncle's here. Let's see who has the audacity to imprison my son. Henry? Can't say I recall anyone by that name."
Kelly led him into the elevator. As the doors closed, she leaned against him with a smile full of both triumph and relief.
Elsewhere in the same building, Henry stood before a mirror, scrutinizing his new arm. The bio-mechanical prosthetic was nearly indistinguishable from a natural limb—except it lacked any sensation. It did, however, possess vastly enhanced strength.
Henry's expression was dark as he snarled at his own reflection. "Damn you, Xiao Feng. This is war. I swear I'll carve you up, inch by inch…"
The memory of Xiao Feng severing his arm still seared in his mind, the pain unforgettable, the humiliation unbearable.
A knock disrupted his spiral of rage.
"Who is it?" he barked.
"It's me. Kelly."
Without waiting for permission, Kelly pushed the door open and entered, eyeing Henry's mechanical arm with a smirk. "Well, well. That new arm suits you, Director Henry."
Henry scowled. "Spare me the sarcasm. You're not off the hook yet. What—come to submit yourself for punishment?"
Kelly chuckled lightly. "Not quite. I'm here to remind you about our little wager… and to demand Kerry's release."
She placed a small device on his desk—a button-sized recorder—and pressed play. Their prior conversation played out, clearly detailing the terms of their bet.
Henry, unfazed, burst into mocking laughter. "Perfect timing—today marks the third day. Kerry's still locked up, which means you've lost. What now? Eager to serve me as agreed?"
Kelly shook her head. "No, I just wanted a front-row seat for your downfall."
Henry scoffed. "You? Bring me down?"
A deep, unfamiliar voice rang out from beyond the door.
"Will I do?"