"Mr. Yao was arrested immediately after Mr. Mo Yichen carried you to the hospital. If… if not for him, I don't know what would have become of you…" Yuqi's voice trembled as she suddenly burst into tears, using her free hand to wipe her eyes.
"Yuqi, stop crying, I'm fine now," Mianmian said softly. She immediately sat up properly and moved closer to her, gently wiping away her tears.
"I'm a bad friend… I deserve to be called that. I should have protected you, especially when you told me he kept asking you out," Yuqi said, her voice breaking.
Yuze stood up awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable with the emotional scene. He didn't know how to comfort people, so he simply stood there with both hands in his pockets, watching quietly.
After cleaning Yuqi's tears, Mianmian suddenly paused as a thought crossed her mind.
"Come to think of it… why was Mr. Mo Yichen in our company at that time?" she asked.
"I was shocked too," Yuqi replied, sniffing slightly. "He suddenly walked into the company asking to see you. Or wait… maybe he already accepted your interview request?"
Mianmian froze for a moment.
Her phone.
She had left it in his house.
Maybe… that was why he came to the company to return it.
And if she hadn't forgotten her phone there…
Mianmian's fingers tightened slightly.
Then everything that happened today might have turned out differently.
She might have become a victim.
Her heart sank at the thought.
He didn't just appear by coincidence.
He saved her life.
And for that… she knew she would be grateful to him for the rest of her life.
*******
"P... Please… spare my life…"
A man's cracked, trembling voice echoed through a dark underground dungeon.
The air was heavy, cold, and suffocating.
At the center of the room was a single iron cage. Inside it, a man sat tied to a chair, wearing only a white, bloodstained singlet and a pair of boxers. His body was covered in bruises, his face swollen and barely recognizable.
Standing in front of him was a woman dressed in a skin-tight black tactical bodysuit. Her face was hidden behind a matte-black respirator mask that gave off a silent, deadly presence.
On her hands were black boxing gloves,
Soaked in blood. His blood.
"Look up."
Her voice was calm, yet chilling, like a quiet warning before something worse.
The man trembled, refusing to raise his head.
Without hesitation, she grabbed his chin with one hand and forced his face upward.
The moment she saw his battered expression.
She struck.
A brutal punch landed across his face.
Blood and teeth spilled out of his mouth as his head snapped to the side.
Before he could recover, another punch followed. Heavy, precise and merciless.
She raised her hand again, ready to strike him.
"Tisha. That's enough."
A voice suddenly echoed from the darkness.
Her fist stopped mid-air.