?Jun Qingcheng moved to her next location: a bustling shopping mall.

  ?The execution was brutal in its simplicity—a fleeting brush past the target, a single poisoned needle, a microscopic drop of venom. The process was so swift that the man’s bodyguards didn't even register a threat until their employer collapsed, dead before he hit the polished marble floor.

  ?She knew she was playing a dangerous game. Physical presence at every crime scene left a trail—a pattern that even the most incompetent investigator would eventually spot. Low-profile was her sanctuary, and these "shrimp" weren't worth compromising her long-term play.

  ?She pulled out her burner phone and dialed a familiar number.

  ?The butler’s voice was thick with relief. He had been living in a state of quiet panic for days, sending out search parties that returned empty-handed.

  ?“Send me a team,” she commanded, skipping the pleasantries. “I return in three to four days.”

  ?The butler understood. The young mistress is preparing for a grand finale.

  ?He knew the names on her list were dropping like flies. Though no forensic evidence linked her to the bodies, the correlation was undeniable. He was torn between absolute loyalty and the urge to drag her back to safety. Ultimately, he replaced the standard search teams with the Xiao family’s elite shadow operatives—men trained by Xiao Yuan himself.

  ?Protect her, he ordered. And bring her home.

  ?Jun Qingcheng was content to wait for the reinforcement. She was born to lead, to sit in the commander's chair. This "hands-on" assassination business was starting to feel beneath her—a tedious, inefficient use of her time in this world.

  ?She found a window seat in a quiet bistro and began her lunch. She had just finished when the peace was shattered.

  ?A man, bloodied and frantic, stumbled into the restaurant, chased by a pack of wolves in human skin. He begged the diners for help, but the crowd recoiled like a retreating tide. The pursuers were armed with steel pipes and machetes; the man's shoulder was a crimson mess, his shirt soaked through.

  ?“Help me! Call the police!” he wheezed, his eyes glazed with the agony of the forsaken. “I’m a cop... I’m undercover... please!”

  ?Despair took hold as he realized no one would move. One brave soul reached for a phone, only to have his wrist shattered by a steel pipe. The message was clear: Interfere and die.

  ?The man, blinded by exhaustion, collided straight into Jun Qingcheng. She caught him with a steady grip, her mind whirring. These people are blocking my exit, she thought. How inconvenient.

  ?The gang surged forward, boxing them in. The leader pointed a machete at the man. “Traitor! There’s nowhere left to run!”

  ?Up close, Jun Qingcheng dissected the man. His eyes were clear but brimming with unshed tears. His skin was bronzed by years of field work, but his shadow-rimmed eyes spoke of chronic insomnia—the weight of a double life. He was gaunt, likely a victim of the very drugs he was supposed to be tracking. To gain the cartel's trust, he had sacrificed his body and his soul.

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  ?Unlike Feng Qianyu, who played a part to destroy, this man played a part to save. His sacrifice was pure.

  ?[Side Mission Triggered: Save the undercover agent and escort him to a Safe Zone.]

  ?Save him, I can do, Jun Qingcheng mused. But a 'Safe Zone'? Unless the vermin are exterminated, there is no safety.

  ?[The System: Host, direct those questions to Lord Yan Ling. I am merely the skeletal framework—a string of code. The true intellect resides in him.]

  ?The thugs lunged. The agent tried to dive through a glass pane, but Jun Qingcheng grabbed his sleeve and yanked him back as a meat cleaver whistled through the air where his head had been.

  ?She rolled her shoulders, cracking her neck. Close-quarters combat—an old favorite she rarely got to practice. As the Young Mistress, she was always shielded by layers of security. Now, the stage was hers.

  ?In her eyes, their movements were glacial. She dismantled the dozen men in a blur of strikes and bone-snapping efficiency, a display of martial prowess that belonged in a war zone, not a shopping mall.

  ?Seeing reinforcements arriving, she grabbed the agent by the arm and began to run.

  ?It was a spectacular pursuit. She moved like a storm, upturning tables and weaving through the chaotic labyrinth of the mega-mall to lose their tail. The commotion finally drew the local police. Seeing the sirens, the gang melted away, though a few persistent killers lingered in the crowd, hunting for an opening.

  ?“You seem to be enjoying the run, Host,” Yan Ling remarked.

  ?“I am not,” she replied tonelessly in her mind.

  ?Once the uniformed officers arrived, they took the man—Xue Bai—into custody. He thanked her, his voice a ragged whisper. He was a man without a home or a wife, his identity a secret even to his colleagues. He was ready to face the music, trusting the system he served.

  ?[WARNING: Target is in immediate danger! TARGET IN DANGER!]

  ?Jun Qingcheng spun around. In the surging crowd, a suppressed muzzle was leveling at Xue Bai’s back.

  ?The police were oblivious, focused on the paperwork of the arrest.

  ?Time slowed. Jun Qingcheng scooped up a jagged stone the size of an egg and flicked it with the force of a bullet. It caught the gunman squarely in the face, shattering his jaw and sending teeth flying in a spray of blood.

  ?The crowd erupted into screams. Exposed, the hidden assassins tried to pivot, but the police finally reacted, cutting the three gunmen down in a hail of gunfire.