After they finished their meal, Yvette and Bonnie went to the new milkshake shop off-campus for a banana milkshake. Back in the dorm, Bonnie was so exhausted she collapsed onto the bed and refused to move. Yvette grabbed her phone and went to the balcony.

Over the past two weeks, Jeremiah had sent only three terse text messages: "I'm good." "Don't worry." "Miss you." Yvette's fingers fiddled with her phone. Her gaze was calm as she dialed Jeremiah's number. After three rings, a stranger's voice answered, "Hello, Ms. Zeller, this is Emmett."

Yvette stood by the window, her eyes downcast, blinking slowly. In a low voice, she got straight to the point: "Tell me everything—the location, the time, the whole story."

Emmett was silent for several seconds. His prepared speech vanished. He wondered if Yvette suspected something had happened to Mr. Chavez. A long silence followed. Irritation creased Yvette's brow. Her gaze intensified, growing cold and sharp. "Speak up," she interjected abruptly. "I don't appreciate nonsense."

Emmett, jolted, explained that Jeremiah had explicitly forbidden him from disclosing anything before his departure. He thought, Forget it. I can't keep this secret forever. Since Mr. Chavez chose Yvette as his partner, she needs to take responsibility. He skipped pleasantries and began detailing the events of the past two weeks.

"Our mission to Mysonna," he declared, "is a confidential state operation targeting the Tiger Head, a criminal group supplying narcotics to smaller gangs in Clusia. A new drug has emerged, causing intense euphoria but also fatalities, with a high risk of teenage addiction. Failure to identify those responsible could lead to a national crisis."

Yvette's eyes hardened. She frowned. "Isn't the underground scene in Mysonna controlled by the Goodman family? Could they be involved?"

Emmett was surprised she knew about the Goodman family, Mysonna's leading crime syndicate, but decided not to dwell on it. "Ms. Zeller, we've discovered clues. Our investigation suggests the drug shipments are controlled by the Goodman family's seventy-second force, known as Blaze Hall."

Yvette sneered, malice flickering in her eyes. "Go on."

Emmett shivered at her icy tone. "Five days ago, an informant revealed the Tiger Head leader frequently takes his crew to a remote rainforest. They return carrying large black boxes. Mr. Chavez led a ten-man team to investigate, but there's been no contact for five days. The rainforest interferes with communication and GPS signals."

Yvette narrowed her eyes, glanced at the clock, and said calmly, "Got it. I'll reach Mysonna by seven this evening."

Emmett checked his watch. Only five hours remained. "Ms. Zeller, are you sure? The earliest flight is three hours away. Shall I arrange a private jet? Mr. Chavez's is available." He doubted her presence would significantly alter the situation, but extra support couldn't hurt. He knew her importance to Jeremiah; if she learned of his disappearance and did nothing, she'd be deeply disappointed.

Yvette refused. "No, thanks. I have a private jet." She hung up, changed into workout clothes, grabbed her backpack, and left, leaving a note for Bonnie: "Taking time off. Don't worry."

On her way to the airport, she contacted Howard, who readily lent her his personal jet. At the airport, everything was arranged efficiently. Within half an hour, she was airborne.

Simon received a text during a meeting: "Taking indefinite leave." He smiled helplessly, wondering about her destination and safety.

It was 6:30 p.m. in Mysonna when Yvette's jet landed. She received the hotel address from Emmett and took a taxi. In the taxi, she gazed out the window, then closed her eyes.

The driver, captivated by her beauty, considered a detour, realizing she was from Clusia. He glanced at her. Just as he was about to act, she said, "Planning a detour?" in perfect Uprian.

He panicked, nearly losing control. He denied it repeatedly, his accent thick. Yvette remained silent, eyes closed. Realizing she'd seen through him, he followed the route.

Emmett was staying at the Regal Hotel, the city's most expensive, with nightly rates of $30,000. Yvette exited the taxi, stunning onlookers. It wasn't just her beauty and aloof demeanor—it was that she arrived by taxi. Regal Hotel guests were typically wealthy and impeccably dressed. Yvette, in a simple tracksuit and canvas shoes, was a stark contrast.

A woman whispered, "Is she staying here?" A man agreed, secretly watching her approach the hotel. "Ridiculous," he remarked. The woman wanted to complain. The security guards glared at Yvette.