It was almost noon when Emmett, Charles, and Samantha awoke, prepared themselves, and went to Yvette's room. Samantha gazed at the table laden with delicious food, including duck confit. This hotel truly spared no expense.

Eagle King tore off a large chicken leg, his posture rugged, and gestured to Samantha. "Hey, Samantha, come over. This is the last chicken leg; it's yours."

Samantha smiled, sat down, and took a bite. The chicken was soft, tender, and well-seasoned. "Thank you very much, Eagle King," she said.

Emmett and Charles sipped black coffee, their eyes fixed on the abundant food. They had specifically requested Yvette's input when the hotel delivered the meal earlier; from that day forward, their meals would be prepared by a specially hired Clusian chef.

Emmett remarked, "Jeremiah, I took a walk around town earlier. In Fhongsoly, even the trash collectors are discussing yesterday's incident—the Crimson Blades' annihilation."

Charles nodded, his voice deep. "I logged into the underworld's internal website. Everyone's speculating which force struck in Voraxia. However, the area is always chaotic, so the attention isn't overly intense."

Samantha swallowed her chicken leg and took a sip of orange juice. Curiously, she asked Charles, "What kind of internal website does the underworld have? That sounds interesting."

Charles glanced at Yvette and hesitated. The website, casually created by Yvette seven years ago to train killers from the Seventy-Two Chambers of the Goodman family, had unexpectedly grown into an underground hub for the underworld in Mysonna. Even hackers had attacked it, but their attempts had failed. Seeing Samantha's curiosity, and knowing they were all in this together—and that Yvette likely wouldn't mind—he decided to share the story.

Charles cleared his throat. "It was casually set up by Yvette seven years ago, for convenience." Emmett's hand, holding his coffee, trembled slightly. Charles and Jeremiah knew of the website, but neither had imagined Yvette's involvement. He wondered, How old was Yvette seven years ago? How could a minor accomplish such a feat?

Samantha was equally shocked. She looked at Yvette, seated on the sofa. Was Yvette human, or a god? she wondered.

Eagle King, however, remained unfazed; he was accustomed to such revelations. The top-ranked killer infiltrating Interpol had seen it all.

Yvette lounged on the sofa, legs crossed, exuding a languid air of authority. Noticing their gazes, she said nonchalantly, "Is that website still in use?"

Charles nodded, swallowing hard. "Did you forget about the website, Yvette?" He genuinely believed Yvette capable of such an undertaking.

Yvette's expression remained indifferent. Leaning back, she lazily propped her chin. "I forgot about it."

Samantha, Charles, and Emmett shared a look of surprised agreement. Indeed, they thought, Yvette was amazing. She forgot!

Jeremiah, a faint smile playing on his lips, turned to Yvette. "Your skills are quite impressive," he said. Being able to create a website impervious to world-class hackers seven years ago... her hacking skills must be unparalleled, he thought. Yvette is truly blessed.

Yvette lifted her chin slightly, her long lashes casting shadows on her captivating eyes. "Which aspect of my skills?" she asked indifferently.

The room fell silent. Suddenly, Samantha stood, sensing the conversation had reached a point of privacy. Whatever happens next, she thought, Jeremiah and Yvette likely prefer to be alone. "Yvette, Jeremiah, my little Cuttic is calling," she announced, rising and departing.

Emmett and Charles rose in unison, silently. Seeing Eagle King still enjoying his chicken leg, they exchanged a glance, each grabbing one of his arms.

Eagle King, hoisted into the air, looked bewildered. "No, I'm not full!" he protested, but his objection was futile. They carried him from the room; the door slammed shut.

Jeremiah stared at Yvette for a few seconds before rising, fetching the prepared warm milk, and offering it to her. "Drink more, replenish your strength," he said.

Yvette raised an eyebrow, then returned the milk, her eyes faintly defiant. "No need; my stamina is quite good."

Jeremiah looked into her eyes, a captivating smile spreading slowly across his face. He easily lifted Yvette from the sofa, his breath brushing her ear. "My stamina is quite good, too," he murmured huskily.

At nine o'clock that night, eleven hours later, Jeremiah cleaned and dried Yvette's hair after their bath, then ordered a meal. Yvette rubbed her hand, thinking, Jeremiah is really getting out of hand!

In the next room, Samantha, Emmett, Charles, and Eagle King played poker. Samantha glanced at the clock; it was past nine. They had been playing for almost eleven hours, and the door to the next room remained closed. Jeremiah's stamina is truly incredible, she thought. I wonder how my adorable Yvette is doing. She must be exhausted... or perhaps it's Jeremiah who's exhausted. Being Jeremiah's woman must be challenging.

Eagle King smirked. "Hey, you think Jeremiah's on something?"

Emmett shook his head impassively. "No need. The military has professional tests, and Jeremiah always scores highest. His endurance and stamina are unmatched."

Eagle King gave a thumbs-up. "Bro, I was kidding. Don't tell Jeremiah I said that."

Emmett shook his head. "I'll pass along your exact words, Eagle King. You asked if Jeremiah was 'on something'." Charles looked at his cards, casually playing a two of diamonds.

"Win." "Win." "Win."

Emmett, Samantha, and Eagle King said in unison, "Pay up."

Charles produced a check—three million dollars. Ten million dollars lost in a single hand. As they settled the accounts, a voice from the hallway interrupted them.

They exchanged glances. Oh my god, they thought, Jeremiah and Sister Yvette are finally done. Those two have incredible stamina.

The next day, the hotel's clientele had changed. Those who had stayed had either perished or been injured, and the rest departed on the second day. The new guests hadn't seen Yvette, Jeremiah, or the others. Their arrival drew immediate attention.

The moment Yvette entered the dining area, Quinn received word. He abandoned his work and rushed to the dining area, his nerves on edge. Could it be Ms. Zeller disliked the hotel chef's food? Is that why they came down? he wondered.