His mind reeled as the day's events flooded back. “I lost? The Jenkins family's top chess prodigy from Ybaulla defeated by a Clusia woman? Her name isn't even on the international rankings! How could she have beaten me?” Robin couldn't accept it. His face paled, his veins bulging.

The bodyguard heard the commotion and pushed open the door. Seeing Robin awake, he immediately reported to Kyle.

Upon seeing them, Robin erupted in a torrent of curses. “Get out! Get out now! Who authorized you to enter without permission? I'll tell Prime Minister Kyle you're both incredibly rude! Get out!”

His outburst was met with only cold sneers and disdain. Does this Robin still think he's some high-and-mighty world champion? Today's match video had gone viral. His loss to a relative unknown had caused a national scandal; thirty thousand online comments were filled with vitriol. Even returning to Ybaulla, he'd be a pariah. The bodyguards exchanged a glance. “He still hasn't grasped this. He’s throwing a tantrum!”

One bodyguard, his tone a stark contrast to their previous deference, said, “Robin, this is Mr. Hall’s order. You’re to report immediately upon waking. We were merely following orders. Your outburst made us think something was wrong.”

Robin’s fury intensified. He saw the contempt in their eyes. “They dare treat me like this? I'm the Jenkins family's eldest son! Get out, you watchdogs! I won't let this go!”

The bodyguards left without a backward glance. Robin’s nothing but a paper tiger.

Unbeknownst to Robin, his words would contribute to his demise. After their departure, only his unsettling face was visible in the dimly lit room. The phone on the cabinet rang. He stared at it, then a chilling laugh escaped him. “Yes, I've hired Zola, Black Gold's top assassin. She’ll kill Yvette. Even victory is meaningless if I can’t enjoy the accolades. Pathetic.”

He eagerly snatched the phone; a text message dominated the screen: “Betrico, left at the third fork, rooftop of the tall building. Your person has arrived.” The sender: Zola.

Robin’s eyes gleamed. He grabbed his phone, neglecting even to change out of his hospital gown. Zola's efficiency astonished him. Wearing only a thin jacket, he ran from the room, laughing hysterically, a picture of madness.

The bodyguards emerged from the bathroom, witnessing his frantic departure. One attempted to stop him, but the other restrained him, saying, “Why stop him? Let him go. Maybe he just needs to vent. We shouldn't follow.”

On the rooftop, Robin hailed a taxi, unable to suppress his hatred. Soon, I'll witness Yvette's humiliation. I'll capture her death and broadcast it to the world. Let them see the so-called Goddess of Clusia's demise! This is the fate of those who defy Ybaulla!

In Skyland, Yvette descended the stairs. Samantha, Andrew, and Charles were dealing with the landlord. They saw Yvette, clad in a leather jacket, black casual wear, and a baseball cap, her hair tied back, only half her face visible. She appeared ready to go out.

Samantha put down her cards. “Yve, going somewhere? Jeremiah isn’t with you?”

Yvette, hands in pockets, replied nonchalantly, “He’s tired, sleeping. I’m going alone.” She left.

Andrew exclaimed, “Damn!” He leaned toward Charles and Samantha. “Jeremiah’s tired… Is he… Look at Yve, she seems fine. Jeremiah's weak.”

Charles raised his chin. While I doubt that's the whole story, Andrew might have a point. But maybe the instructor's too harsh?

Samantha nodded, resuming her card game. Hard to say if this will work!

Twenty minutes later, Robin arrived at the location Zola provided. This place is secluded. Such a gloomy spot in the city center? He rationalized, Zola deals in shadows; this is normal. He took the elevator to the top floor. He was eager to reach his destination.

The city was shrouded in darkness. From the rooftop, Betrico shone brilliantly.

Robin nervously opened the balcony door, clad only in a thin gown and jacket, barely shielded from the biting wind. His teeth chattered, but he forced a nonchalant demeanor.

He saw a figure in a hat sitting at the edge. From his angle, the back was slender, unlike a man’s. Can someone so slight be a top assassin?

He looked around, convinced it was a trick of the light. Cautiously, he asked, “Zola? I’m Mr. Jenkins. You said she'd arrive. Where is she?”

As he approached, he noticed Zola's precarious position. That's dangerous! A lunatic!