Yvette nodded. "No need, just follow standard procedure."

Darnell was surprised. He mused, "There's a special meaning behind her actions today. Maybe I'm overthinking it. Those few words made Jack very satisfied!"

A rumor circulated at Interpol Headquarters: if you didn't speak to Yvette, she wouldn't initiate conversation; if you did, a word or two in response was considered a great success. Jack, therefore, was more than pleased and left in high spirits. His improved attitude toward Darnell, even shaking hands before leaving, was significant, given Darnell's proximity to Yvette.

Darnell felt a pang of bittersweet emotion. He thought, 'Is this really how it works? Once someone achieves success, those around them benefit. Standing near a big shot seems to earn preferential treatment.'

After everyone departed, Darnell surveyed the mess. Today's incident was concluded, and further developments were beyond his control. He bent slightly, saying respectfully, "Ms. Zeller, if there's nothing else, I'll take my coffee and leave. Shall we escort you back?"

Yvette looked up, her gaze deep. "No need, thank you," she replied politely.

Darnell smiled and nodded, acknowledging his limitations. "Alright then, Ms. Zeller, we'll pack up and leave."

Led by Darnell, the officers hurried back to the station. They'd anticipated a difficult situation, but it had been a one-person show. Darnell's emotions had been a rollercoaster, but he had no time for reflection. He immediately reported the events to his superiors upon leaving the café.

In the marshal's office, Jase, Clifford, and Jeremiah—who should have been at the café—sat on sofas. Jase calmly sipped his coffee, observing the anxious Clifford. He thought, 'Oh… I forgot, it seems only my silly son doesn't know Yvette's hidden identity. With her Interpol status and firearm, what could Ybaulla do? They're likely at a disadvantage, given her character. She's the one who's not at a loss.'

Jase intended to use this opportunity to solidify Yvette's authority in Betrico. No one could dispel the rumors; only her formidable strength could silence them. He thought, 'My grandson's girlfriend is too low-key, not revealing any of her many identities. This isn't good.'

Jase set down his cup, glancing at the equally calm Jeremiah. He thought, 'He seems to already know; otherwise, he'd be rushing to protect Yvette.'

Clifford frowned, thinking, 'Are Dad and Jeremiah acting too calm? Doesn't anyone realize how urgent this is? They're still sipping coffee! I was about to call a department meeting to strategize when Dad sent for me, presumably to plan for today. Instead, I'm drinking coffee.'

After his arrival, no one spoke. Jeremiah's silent arrival and coffee consumption further baffled Clifford. He thought, 'Does Jeremiah still want his wife? Does Dad still want to save his grandson's wife? If they're late and Interpol takes her, retrieving her will be difficult.'

Jase tapped his cane, his eyes clear, looking at Jeremiah. "When did you find out about that girl's identity?"

Clifford was startled. "Is it Yvette? What identity?" he asked quickly. He knew she was Cyanbird, but that wouldn't help much in this situation.

Jeremiah lifted his eyes, legs crossed, gaze sharp, jaw tight, voice low. "A little earlier than you."

Jase snorted, slightly disgruntled. He thought, It's not too late for me to know.

Yusef, standing nearby, was equally confused. He thought, "This incident is major, yet Mr. Jase Chavez is too calm, and Mr. Jeremiah Chavez isn't hurried either. What's going on?" He was as confused as Clifford by their conversation.

Jase said, "Now that Yvette's identity should be exposed, right?"

Jeremiah glanced at him. He thought, My grandfather is sly; inaction is to let Yvette reveal her true identity?

Jeremiah replied, "Yvette likely anticipated Ybaulla involving Interpol. Do you think it can remain secret, Grandpa?"

Jase sheepishly rubbed his nose. He thought, His words are so obvious; he clearly knows what I'm thinking.

Jase said pointedly, "Your wife has become Clusia's goddess. Aren't you nervous? What if a better man appears? What if she falls for someone else?"

Yusef's eyes twitched. He thought, Mr. Jase Chavez's words make me want to kick him twice.

Clifford choked on his drink and coughed. He thought, Dad really knows how to hit a nerve.

Jeremiah leisurely sipped his coffee, his expression impassive. He was utterly confident. "That day will never come."

Jase clicked his tongue; the boy was indeed confident. He couldn't fault those words.

Clifford could endure no more. He thought, If my wife learns I'm here drinking coffee instead of saving her precious Yvette, she'll kill me. And this conversation is so confusing, I don't understand at all.

Clifford stood, his expression serious. "Dad, this is serious. I need to prepare. Ybaulla has reported to Interpol. If we don't act soon, your grandson's wife will be in trouble."

He addressed Jeremiah with equal displeasure. "And you, why didn't you go to the café to save your wife? What are you doing here with your grandfather?" He thought, Does Jeremiah really like Yvette? His indifference is unlike him.

Before he finished, Clifford's office phone rang. An internal call. He thought, Something else must have happened. Did Darnell fail to stop it? Was someone arrested? Or did something escalate the situation? He'd already planned for the worst.

Jase calmly said, "Answer it here."

Clifford pressed speakerphone. A male voice said, "Mr. Chavez, something's changed. Where are you? I need to report personally. Today's events are bizarre."

Clifford restrained his emotions. "I'm busy and can't leave. Speak slowly. Did something else happen at the café?"

The voice paused, then changed tone. "Mr. Chavez...Robin's already back at the station. This matter..."

Clifford frowned, looking at the two older men; something felt wrong. He thought, Yvette clearly hit Robin; how did it become...Ybaulla wouldn't cause trouble over this and take the opportunity...