"Bang!"
That was the sound of heavy objects hitting the walls, the sound of furniture shattering, even mixed with his father's Beast-like, angry roars.
"God, I shouldn't have brought her here, I shouldn't have brought her here."
Harry's face was deathly pale, and cold sweat was streaming down his forehead.
He knew his father's recent mental state too well.
That kind of manic violence and hysteria was something even the family bodyguards didn't dare approach.
Although Alice was a genius, she was just a frail girl.
Was that the sound of a fight in there? No, it sounded more like a one-sided slaughter.
"Dad, stop, I beg you!"
Harry couldn't take it anymore; he rushed up and frantically pounded on the door, trying to twist the handle.
"Click—clack—" The lock didn't budge.
It turned out that when Norman was knocked flying into the wall by the door by Alice just now, the immense impact caused the door frame to deform, and the latch was stuck firmly in the lock hole.
"Damn it, damn it!"
Harry desperately rammed his shoulder against the door, but this hundred-year-old oak door from a European castle was as hard as an iron plate; it didn't move at all, even though his shoulder ached.
Immediately after, a heart-stopping loud noise came from inside.
That was the sound of Norman being thrown over Alice's shoulder and slammed onto the floor.
Then, everything fell into dead silence.
No roaring, no screaming, only a terrifying silence.
Harry's heart went cold; he slumped against the door panel, the image of Alice lying in a pool of blood already appearing in his mind.
It's over.
It's all over.
He would never forgive himself for the rest of his life.
Just as Harry finally pulled himself together, preparing to turn around to find a fire axe to break down the door, "Squeak—creak—" the deformed door hinge let out a harsh metallic grinding sound.
That door, which seemed welded shut, was slowly pulled open from the inside.
Harry looked up abruptly, rushing forward almost with a sobbing tone: "Alice, run, I'll hold him..."
His words got stuck in his throat.
Because standing at the doorway was Alice.
The ribbon bow tied at her collar was fluffy and exquisite.
Her long golden hair hung down her shoulders like a waterfall, shimmering with a satiny, delicate luster under the dim wall lamp in the hallway.
Her lightweight white silk shirt and matching pleated skirt didn't have a single wrinkle.
She was so clean and neat, just like a white lily freshly fished out of ice water, untainted by even a speck of dust.
At this moment, her slender fingers were holding an exquisite crystal glass, the amber whiskey inside gently sloshing, and the ice cubes clinking against the glass wall, making a pleasant, crisp sound.
Seeing Harry rush over, she, with a proper smile on her face, elegantly took a sip of the strong liquor: "What's wrong, Harry? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"You, you're okay?"
Harry widened his eyes, looking Alice up and down, confirming that she was indeed completely unharmed, not even a chip of nail polish missing.
"Of course I'm fine. Mr. Osborn is a very enthusiastic conversational partner."
Alice turned to the side, clearing a line of sight.
Harry followed her gaze into the study.
"Hiss—" Harry gasped.
The originally neat and luxurious study now looked like it had just been ravaged by two elephants.
The expensive mahogany desk was broken in two, bookshelves had collapsed, the floor was covered with broken glass and wood shavings, and half of the crystal chandelier on the ceiling was missing and still swaying.
And in the midst of this ruin.
His father, Norman Osborn, who was usually majestically overbearing, was leaning against that half-smashed liquor cabinet.
His nasal bone was crooked, one eye was swollen like a walnut, the corner of his mouth was split and bleeding, and his velvet bathrobe was torn, looking as disheveled as if he had just crawled out of a meat grinder.
"Dad?"
Harry's worldview collapsed.
He looked at the unharmed Alice, then at his bruised and battered father.
Who exactly was abusing whom here?
"Don't make a fuss, Harry."
Norman Osborn was slurring his words because of the wound on the corner of his mouth, but he tried to straighten his back, attempting to maintain his last shred of dignity.
He raised the glass in his hand and said to his stunned son: "Miss Mason and I just had an intense and constructive academic debate."
"Academic debate?"
Harry pointed at the mess on the floor and the bruises on his father's face, "Is this also part of the debate?"
"Of course."
Alice smiled and added, a hint of mischief flashing in her eyes.
"This is called a physical collision-style brainstorming session. Although the process was a bit intense, the result is quite satisfactory, after all, we reached a consensus, right, Mr. Osborn?"
Norman twitched the corner of his mouth, seemingly pulling at his wound, but he still nodded, a trace of lingering fear and awe flashing in his eyes.
"Exactly right, we did indeed reach a very profound consensus."
Norman waved his hand, signaling Harry not to come over to help him.
"Alright, Harry, take Miss Mason back. Tomorrow, have the company's legal team go to Umbrella Corporation to draft the contract, and also, call the Doctor."
Until he sat in the car, Harry was still dazed.
He looked through the rearview mirror at Alice, who was sitting in the back seat, quietly watching the night scenery outside the window.
Moonlight spilled onto her profile, serene and beautiful like a goddess.
Yet Harry couldn't help but shiver.
Because he suddenly realized that this pretty female classmate of his might be a hundred times more dangerous than his crazy father.
"Alice, you and my dad, were you really just talking business just now?"
Harry asked cautiously.
Alice turned her head, revealing a reserved smile.
"Of course. But Harry, remember to remind your father next time, don't get physical when debating. After all, not everyone has a gentle temper like me."
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