After the opera ended, the four of them stepped out of the hall. Evening had not fully fallen yet; the last light of the sun spread softly across the sky, and the crowd on the streets was gradually dispersing.
Ling Shaomia adjusted her hat slightly and looked around. At that moment, a sudden commotion erupted all around. Some people recoiled in fear, while others pushed through the crowd to get out of the way.
From the middle of the crowd, a man suddenly emerged.
He was a middle-aged man, with a rough beard and disheveled black hair falling across his forehead. His eyes carried a wild intensity, as if exhaustion and agitation had been building up for days.
Before anyone could react, he lunged toward the four women.
Mrs. Sommer and Madame Mary tried to step back in alarm.
But everything happened so quickly that no one had a chance to respond.
The man grabbed Ling Shaomia's hand tightly, pulling her toward him. In his other hand, he pressed a sharp knife against her neck.
The crowd around them gasped in unison.
Mrs. Sommer froze, and Madame Mary took a step back in fright.
In a rough, commanding voice, the man shouted, "Nobody comes closer! Or I will use this!"
His tone carried such unhinged threat that the people nearby immediately froze in place. No one dared approach.
The cold edge of the knife pressed against Ling Shaomia's neck, and she swallowed involuntarily.
The man repeated, "Nobody comes closer! Or I will use this!"
Everyone around stopped moving. Ling Shaomia felt the metal's cold edge against her throat and the man's firm grip on her shoulder.
Fear was evident on the faces of the people standing on the street. Some whispered to each other, some covered their mouths in horror, while others just watched helplessly from a distance.
Mrs. Sommer was almost frozen in place, and Madame Mary held a hand to her chest, watching anxiously.
Yet Mrs. Wilson—or rather, Aman in disguise—remained unnervingly calm. Her gaze was steady and composed.
The crowd slowly thickened, with more onlookers stopping at a distance, their eyes wide with fear. Some whispered, while others ran to call for guards.
Ling Shaomia took a slow breath and shifted her gaze through her glasses, taking in the scene.
She noticed something unusual.
Among the crowd, a few people had strange marks and auras above their heads—clearly, they were not ordinary humans, but Beyonders.
Surprisingly, none of them stepped forward.
They observed from afar, showing no sign of helping.
Ling Shaomia quickly understood why.
"They're afraid… if they intervene, their secret identities might be exposed."
She then calmly turned her head toward the knife-wielding man.
In a steady voice, she said, "Let me go."
The man looked at her in surprise. Ling Shaomia continued, "Look at the crowd around you. Even if you harm me, there's no way you can escape. And if you don't… you still won't get away."
A flicker of doubt crossed the man's eyes. Just then, the sound of metallic boots echoed from a distance. A few police officers pushed through the crowd and arrived at the scene.
One officer stepped forward and shouted firmly, "Criminal! Release the girl!"
Another young officer had his pistol drawn, standing cautiously. The tension in the air thickened.
The man's eyes lit up with both panic and desperation as he pressed the knife harder against Ling Shaomia's neck. She realized the situation could spiral out of control at any moment.
The officer's shouted commands made the man's face harden even more. His eyes burned with a mix of fear and madness.
He began slowly stepping backward, dragging Ling Shaomia with him.
"Step back!" he shouted again.
The police exchanged glances, then cautiously stepped back. One officer still had his gun aimed, but dared not fire—Ling Shaomia stood directly in front of the man, and the crowd looked on with a mixture of fear and concern.
Ling Shaomia felt his breathing quicken. His hands trembled slightly.
The crowd continued to part, gradually forming a clearing in the street around them.
Mrs. Sommer watched with worried eyes, and Madame Mary held her hand to her mouth. Meanwhile, Mrs. Wilson, disguised as Aman, remained unnervingly composed.
Ling Shaomia quickly assessed the situation. "He's trying to escape… but there's no way he can get away with all these people and the police around."
The man continued to step back toward the open space, growing increasingly desperate.
Suddenly, something strange pressed against Ling Shaomia's throat, and she collapsed to the ground. Her vision blurred. She faintly heard voices around her asking, "Is she breathing?"
When she opened her eyes, she realized in her mind, "Did I… die?"
The man still held the knife against her neck. But soon, Ling Shaomia sensed a subtle shift. It was as if the system had returned her to a few moments earlier.
She quickly checked her senses and realized that now the system had indeed come. Everything around her—the people, the police, the crowd—was frozen for a brief moment.
Ling Shaomia mentally planned, "When the system stops everything, how can I free myself?"
She called on the system, closing her eyes and focusing: "System, now!"
But nothing happened. Everything continued as before the man's knife pressed against her neck, the crowd panicked, the police cautious, and she lay immobilized on the ground. She realized—the system hadn't come. There was no help.
She calmly analyzed the situation. "There's no advantage now. I can only rely on my wits, my body, and my resolve these three."
Her hands were pinned because the man held them firmly from behind. Had her hands been free, she could have skillfully removed the knife before he even realized it.
The man began stepping backward slowly, his strong grip pressing against Ling Shaomia's hands.
She thought to herself, "Ah… I've died a second time, at this man's hands. In my real life, I was an assassin, and in my first transmigration, I was a spy in a historical Wuxia novel. But if I use my skills now… I wonder how people would react!"
Ling Shaomia focused her gaze, studying the man carefully. She saw that he was holding the knife firmly against her throat with his right hand, while pinning her hands behind her back with his left.
In that moment, she realized her hands were not free, and moving the knife away from her neck was impossible. Every little motion would alert him.
Her eyes scanned the two policemen nearby—they had their guns trained on the man.
Ling Shaomia looked at them and subtly gestured toward the man's right shoulder, using her eyes to direct their attention. She moved his shoulder slightly away from her, repeating the motion a few times.
At first, the officer in his thirties didn't understand and thought, "What exactly is this girl trying to do?"
A few seconds later, the middle-aged officer noticed the movement clearly and fired at the man's right side.
"Boom!"