On the phone, Hazel paused. "Sienna, is everything okay? Did Vibe get a new designer who wants to compete? Submissions are closed, and unless there's an exception, we can't add more. The first round of judging has already started."

Sienna knew the chances were slim. Looking at the designs in her hand, she whispered, "Such a pity for Yve's new designs."

Hearing "Yve," Hazel's mind raced. She hadn't heard that name from Sienna in years. Does she have new designs? she wondered.

Trying to remain calm, Hazel said, "Is she making a comeback? Although the first round has started, I have a special privilege that can send a designer's work straight to the finals. Mail the designs to the Designers' Association, and I'll handle it. By the way, does this collection have a name?"

Sienna listened, amused at her teacher's sudden shift in tone. Flipping through the designs, she knew Yvette would likely scribble the name inconspicuously. On the eleventh sheet, she found a small word, suppressing a laugh. Is this really the name? she thought.

Hazel remained patient, eager to see the designs. "Blossom" had propelled Vibe to fame five years ago, and she wondered what surprise awaited this time. She noticed the sound of page-turning had stopped. "What's up? Did you find the name?"

Sienna hesitated. "Found it. But the name is… well, it's just 'Nameless.'"

Hazel wasn't surprised; Yvette was always rather casual. "Maybe there's some hidden meaning?"

Sienna sighed, "She's probably just being lazy."

Hazel was speechless.

In Mysonna, Yvette arrived at her apartment building. The door opened remotely. From the outside, the apartment looked ordinary, but inside, it was a haven of luxury and high-tech. The seemingly simple glass was actually the latest international bulletproof material—the glass alone could buy a villa. Every item inside was an auction rarity or a royal treasure, unseen on the market.

Yvette entered, removed her cap and coat, and poured herself water at the bar. With a calm expression, she said, "Come out."

Flying Fish emerged from a concealed wall, wearing a T-shirt, shorts, and blue slippers. Behind the wall was a secret room, designed, as the Eagle King would say, "Every assassin needs a safe space." In reality, it was a place for them to play cards, have late-night snacks, and play video games.

Flying Fish blew Yvette a kiss, then dramatically flopped onto the couch. "Boss, come here."

Yvette rested her chin on her hand, gently swirling her glass. Her eyes lowered slowly, settling on Flying Fish's deliberately exposed thigh. She smiled slightly, her voice soft and husky. "I'm afraid you won't be able to handle it."

Flying Fish froze. Is she flirting? she thought.

Yvette lazily shifted her gaze to the innermost room, her eyes glinting subtly. "Is he dead?"

Flying Fish adjusted her position, crossing her legs and lighting a cigarette. "Not dead, but barely alive. When I retrieved him from the Goodman family, he seemed fine, just unconscious. I had Landon examine him, and guess what, Boss?"

Yvette looked down, fingers tracing the rim of her glass, her expression unreadable.

Flying Fish clicked her tongue. Braydon's ruthlessness was legendary. Everyone knew Charles was the leader of Blaze Hall and Braydon's trusted ally. Yet Braydon hadn't hesitated to attack someone who had fought by his side for years.

Flying Fish wasn't sure why Yvette wanted to save Charles, but there had to be a reason. "Charles was injected with the latest No. 7 Toxin by Braydon, and his body is deteriorating rapidly. He doesn't have much time left. Even with a cure, he might never fully recover. But there's a sliver of hope. Landon said if we find the elusive Miracle Doctor, we might save him. The problem is, the last sighting was during the Afriwo outbreak years ago. No news since then. And no one knows if the Miracle Doctor is male or female, young or old. Where do we even begin?"

Yvette remained expressionless, silently watching Flying Fish smoke. She put down her glass, raised an eyebrow, and sent a text: "[Someone from the lab leaked the No. 7 toxin. Deliver an antidote to this address tomorrow.]"

She received a reply within a minute: "[Sorry, Ms. Zeller. I'll handle it right away.]"

Yvette pocketed her phone and headed into the inner room, followed by Flying Fish.

Inside, Charles was awake. He had vaguely heard voices, but the apartment's soundproofing prevented him from understanding the words. He wanted to get up but couldn't move, so he lay waiting. He was excited, but the nerve toxin had paralyzed his limbs. He could barely move his fingers and could only speak normally.

He almost called out to his mentor, but he swallowed the words when he saw Flying Fish behind Yvette. "Yve."

Yvette settled on the sofa, leaning back, her eyes cold and deep, showing no particular emotion.

Flying Fish couldn't read the situation and stood silently beside Yvette. The room was thick with unspoken tension.

Charles looked down, feeling defeated. He was sure Yvette regretted teaching him; he was neither alive nor dead, his existence felt like a disgrace.

A harsh resolve filled Charles's gaze. Death seemed his only option. "Yve, I'm sorry."

Hearing this, Yvette looked up, her lips pressed together, her eyes dark and intense. With a calm, icy voice, she said, "Got a death wish?"

Charles shook his head. Dying in front of Yvette would only taint her eyes.