The young soldier paused, scratching his head sheepishly. "The Major General's girlfriend? Almost all of us in the First Military District have seen her photo. It's framed on Jeremiah's office desk," he explained.

Samantha clicked her tongue. "I really didn't expect that such a reserved guy like Jeremiah would have a photo of her on his desk. Isn't that just blatant show-off?"

Inside the interrogation room, the dim lighting, provided only by a small skylight, cast long shadows. Silence hung heavy in the air.

Yvette extended her slender, pale fingers, lightly tapping the table. She listened as the five kidnappers across from her communicated in Silarian and their organization's secret codes, discussing their planned suicides to avoid revealing their master. They also planned to ambush Jeremiah, vowing absolute loyalty to Ybaulla.

The five Tradecrafters spoke openly, unconcerned that the Clusian soldiers wouldn't understand the obscure Silarian language. Several soldiers considered interrupting, but hesitated upon meeting Jeremiah's gaze. Though they didn't understand his reasoning, they sensed a purpose in his inaction.

After finishing the last orange segment, Yvette wiped her hands and glanced at the bound men, interrupting them. Speaking fluently in Silarian, she caused the five Tradecrafters to freeze, fear etched on their faces. "Who do you want to move against?"

Even the nearby soldiers were stunned. This Major General's girlfriend can even speak Silarian?

Jeremiah's eyes darkened, a knowing expression settling on his face. The girl can even handle the obscure indigenous language from Southeast Aploth, so how could Silarian be a challenge for her?

One older Tradecrafter, sporting a thin mustache and a gloomy countenance, glared at Yvette. "We are forever loyal to our master. No matter how you torture us, we won't betray him. Just give up that thought!"

These five Tradecrafters, secretly trained by Ybaulla for various missions, had learned Clusian fluency, enabling them to blend seamlessly with the Clusian population.

Yvette curled her lips into a subtle, wicked smirk in the dim light. She stood, her face impassive, and walked to the man who had spoken. Without hesitation, she kicked him in the chest.

The man, smirking derisively, underestimated her. Yvette's seemingly effortless kick sent him sprawling into the corner, his face impacting the floor. He tried to rise, but spat blood and collapsed, his lungs injured by the impact.

The other four kidnappers stared in disbelief. "This woman actually made our boss cough up blood with just one kick!?"

Jeremiah's soldiers, ever vigilant, swiftly dragged the bleeding kidnapper back before Yvette and stood aside, awaiting instructions.

Yvette casually produced black gloves and donned them. She then effortlessly lifted the man, who weighed between 165 and 176 pounds, as if he were a small bird.

Jeremiah watched with affection. Let the girl have her fun.

Yvette carried the man to the other four, throwing him down like refuse. Already severely injured, he lay panting. Crouching, Yvette dislocated his jaw with a sharp crack, silencing his pained wail. He could only glare with hatred, making faint grunting sounds.

The four remaining kidnappers watched, their pupils shrinking in fear. They had encountered vicious Clusian soldiers before, but never a woman like this.

Yvette looked impassively at the man, her eyes cold, as she produced a silenced silver pistol and loaded it.

Several assassins, believing their end had come, raised their heads defiantly.

Yvette chuckled, aimed at the man's wrist, and fired, a column of blood splattering the other four. He struggled to scream, his jaw dislocated. She then shot his knee, leaving him half-conscious and unable to even glare.

Blood stained the floor crimson, filling everyone's vision. The remaining four were no longer defiant; this torment was terrifying. The interrogation room reeked of blood.

Yvette, impassive, stood in the blood pool. Her gaze, cold and deep, settled on the nearly dead leader. It was her second sentence since entering the room. "Skinning alive, quartering, drawing and quartering, capital punishment, scaphism, strangulation—which one do you prefer?" she asked casually. She then fired again, hitting the man's lower body.

A small object thudded to the floor, causing stunned horror and disbelief.

The four remaining kidnappers reflexively stared at Yvette.

Jeremiah rubbed his temples. "The places this girl targets are truly indescribable."

The soldiers felt a chill run down their spines. Where did Major General Mrs. Chavez find such a ruthless person? How could she think to shoot there?

But they knew this was not the first time, and it certainly would not be the last.