After nearly half an hour of hesitation, Quinn finally knocked on Yvette’s door. As one of the few survivors of yesterday's ordeal, he feared that if Yvette were in a bad mood, his efforts would be in vain. He couldn't forget the image of her standing on the second floor, expressionless, witnessing the Crimson Blades' massacre.

When the door opened, Yvette saw the three trembling people outside and the cart behind them. Her eyelids lifted slightly. "I didn't order any food," she said in a cold, clear voice. "This must be a mistake."

Quinn bowed deeply, speaking in broken Clusian. "Ms. Zeller, this is a complimentary gift from the hotel."

Yvette raised an eyebrow. "Come in," she said coolly, turning to re-enter. Quinn quickly instructed the servers to bring in the cart, following nervously. Despite being the hotel owner, he felt extremely anxious, especially after learning that the Crimson Blades had been completely eliminated overnight. He couldn't imagine who else could have accomplished this feat but Yvette and her companions—a few individuals who had wiped out over a hundred Crimson Blades.

Sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed, Yvette still appeared slightly groggy. The servers respectfully placed the breakfast on the table and left. Quinn immediately turned to Yvette, bowing deeply. "Ms. Zeller, thank you and your friends for saving the lives of the hotel guests and myself yesterday."

Yvette's face remained impassive. "It was a coincidence," she said slowly. Quinn's respect deepened. He hadn't come merely to deliver breakfast; all of Voraxia's forces were investigating the Crimson Blades' demise, and he needed to clarify his position with Yvette.

"Ms. Zeller," Quinn said solemnly, "besides expressing my gratitude, I want to assure you the hotel will not leak information about yesterday's events. However, we can't prevent guests from doing so."

Yvette listened, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. She lowered her gaze, remaining silent. Quinn broke into a cold sweat. Just as his anxiety peaked, Yvette spoke: "It doesn't matter."

Quinn froze, stunned. It doesn't matter? He speculated on Yvette's identity. Could anyone besides her and her companions have wiped out the Crimson Blades overnight? To speak so casually while all of Voraxia hunted her—she truly impressed him.

This was Voraxia, a world dominated by men. Who is this woman? he wondered. He dared not speculate openly, but the thought consumed him.

Relief flooded Quinn's face; a smile spread across it. He'd worried all night. "Ms. Zeller," he said, "this is a special selection of Clusian snacks for you. I hope you enjoy them. Your stay, and your friends', will be free of charge. Stay as long as you wish. Enjoy your meal, and please let me know if you need anything."

His earlier frown replaced by a radiant smile, Quinn felt immense relief. He’d feared this powerful woman might destroy his hotel on a whim.

Yvette nodded slightly, lounging lazily. She yawned. "Thank you," she said in a deep voice. Quinn was taken aback by her simple gratitude. He hadn't expected such approachability from someone so powerful. Feeling truly honored, he waved his hands hurriedly. "Take your time. I'll leave now."

As Quinn opened the door, he saw Eagle King, in slippers, about to enter. His hair was disheveled; he'd clearly just woken up. Quinn nodded nervously and fled. He remembered this man had killed most of the Crimson Blades solely on Yvette’s orders.

Eagle King watched Quinn's retreat. Am I really a monster? Why did he run? he wondered. He casually opened the door and looked at Yvette. "Yvette, what did the hotel owner want? Anything important?"

Yvette propped her chin up, pointing to the breakfast. Her voice was hoarse. "Free breakfast."

Eagle King glanced at the table, then plopped down on the sofa, pursing his lips. This hotel owner knows how to flatter. I never get this treatment after staying here for so many days. Everything comes when the boss arrives.

Yvette arched her eyebrows. "If you want to eat, go ahead," she said softly.

Eagle King chuckled, his demeanor fawning. "Boss, you're the best." He went to the table and began eating. "Delicious," he mused. These Clusian specialties weren't on the menu; they were clearly specially prepared. Wherever the boss goes, people flock to please her. Why don't I get such treatment?

He took a bite of bread and turned to Yvette. "Boss, come eat too."

Yvette shook her head, glancing at her phone. Yawning, she said, "No thanks, I have something else to eat."

As they spoke, Jeremiah entered with breakfast. Seeing Eagle King and the snacks, he instantly understood. He knew Quinn had sent them; the others weren't early risers.

Jeremiah said in a deep voice, "A Clusian couple from the northeast runs an orange juice and fried dough stand. I met them during my morning exercise. Do you want to try?"

Eagle King, at the dining table, suddenly lost his appetite. No wonder Yvette didn't eat the hotel's breakfast. Jeremiah went out to buy it himself. Now that's dedication! He'd walked that street before; there was no such stand. Jeremiah must have searched several streets. Another day of envying someone else's devotion. He bit into a bun fiercely. At least he had free breakfast.