Yvette paused, phone in hand. Her voice was steady. "I got it."

In a farmhouse in Southeast Aploth, Jeremiah stood under the moonlight, clad in casual black. Fresh blood dripped from his sleeves. Behind him, a group of men, their skin tanned, wore traditional local attire. Jeremiah's men held them pinned to the ground. They cursed loudly in their native tongue, their dialect incomprehensible.

Yvette's clear, cold voice made Jeremiah's heart skip a beat. "I saw the school forum," she said.

Yvette looked up at the stars, returning the candy to her pocket. She paused, her voice softening. "It's okay."

Jeremiah chuckled, his tone gentle and indulgent. Beside him, the soldier who'd rushed to report stood frozen, afraid to move. Oh my, the soldier thought, the fierce major general—the military's devil—smiled? Do I have a fever? He touched his forehead; no fever. He actually smiled!

Jeremiah noticed the soldier and nodded faintly. The soldier instinctively stepped back, unwilling to eavesdrop.

Jeremiah said, "Okay. If you need anything, find Andrew. He's free."

Andrew, soaking in a bath and humming a song, was oblivious to Jeremiah's impromptu assignment. He sneezed suddenly, muttering to himself about a beautiful woman thinking of him.

"Okay," replied Yvette.

"Sleep early," Jeremiah added.

"Sure," she said.

Even through the phone, Jeremiah sensed Yvette's indifference. Disappointed, he said, "Bye, then."

"Wait," Yvette said.

Jeremiah immediately returned the phone to his ear, anticipation rising. What does Yvette want to tell me? he wondered. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "What is it? I'm still here."

On the other side, Yvette adjusted her clothes, lowered her eyes, and pressed her lips together. "Those guys said the last batch of goods is in the basement of a guy named Gamma's house. No one can find out," she stated.

Jeremiah was startled, then understood. Yvette actually understands strange dialects? The captives were part of an international human trafficking organization. They used various tricks to drug women and children, smuggling them abroad to sell in lawless areas like the Golden Triangle, profiting immensely from their crimes. If anyone disobeyed, these traffickers brutally harvested organs and sold them to other countries.

Jeremiah had come to Southeast Aploth to uncover their hideouts and dismantle them. The traffickers knew the last group of women and children was their only bargaining chip and refused to surrender. Jeremiah had already devised a plan, but Yvette surprised him. "Okay. I got it."

After they hung up, the soldier rushed over anxiously. "General, they won't talk. What should we do now?"

Jeremiah's eyes flickered, fierce and deep as a night fire. His handsome face turned somber. He'd reverted to the vicious, internationally feared figure. He spoke coldly, "Nothing. The captured people are at the house of a man named Gamma, from this group."

The soldier rejoiced at discovering the last group's location, though unaware of their condition. He hated the criminals, having witnessed the captives' misery. He longed to shoot them on the spot. They deserved severe punishment; they were not people, but animals. The youngest kidnapped child was only four, their legs injured, forced to beg. Young women were harassed and killed, their bodies left unattended on hillsides.

The soldiers' experience with such evil shocked them, yet their hands were tied. In international cases, they had to keep the traffickers alive for higher authorities to judge. It involved two countries; a soldier couldn't make such decisions.

Jeremiah glanced at the still-struggling men. His darkened eyes narrowed, sharp with a chilling gleam. "Execute them!"

The soldier looked up, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "Yes, General." He finally understood Jeremiah's high respect within the military. Even he understood the implications; Jeremiah certainly did, yet still issued the order. The reason could only be to bring justice to the brutally murdered. From that moment, Jeremiah became a figure of faith in the soldier's heart.

In her Argrol University dorm, Bonnie woke to use the bathroom. Returning, she noticed flickering lights on the balcony and sleepily went to investigate. "Yve, why aren't you asleep yet? It's already three o'clock," she asked.

Yvette turned, switching off her phone. "Just about to."

Bonnie asked no more questions and returned to bed.

The next day, Simon frowned in the principal's office, holding the Art Festival list. Someone was deliberately targeting Yvette. Given her personality, she would never sign up for four events; the spotlight wasn't her thing, and she was generally averse to trouble. He usually ignored such student conflicts, but he couldn't stand idly by when Yvette was involved. Beyond James's request, Simon felt a connection with Yvette. He couldn't allow such behavior to fester.

Simon called, "Mr. Williams, can you come to my office?"

Patrick immediately stopped lesson planning. Simon handed him the list. "Who finalized this list?" he asked, his tone ambiguous.

Patrick felt guilty; he knew who compiled it, as he was involved. He hadn't expected Simon, usually busy, to notice. The only problem was Yvette's name. So, is Mr. Sunderland stepping in for Yvette again? he thought. He could only feign ignorance.

Patrick explained, "Mr. Sunderland, the student council made the list. What's wrong? It was released yesterday afternoon. I've been busy and haven't had a chance to look at it yet."

Simon stared, Patrick growing uneasy. Finally, Simon looked away. "It's nothing. I just noticed Yvette from the physics department signed up for four events. Are you sure there's no mistake?"

Patrick seriously glanced at the list. "Mr. Sunderland, there shouldn't be any mistake. The student council wouldn't make such a mistake. I'm sure they've confirmed with her, so don't worry."

Simon considered calling Yvette but decided against it to avoid pressuring her. He never guessed the student council president, Ruby, was framing her.

"I understand. You can leave now. If Yvette wants to back out, don't make it difficult for her. Just remove her name," Simon said.

Patrick nodded repeatedly. Back in his office, a teacher asked about his rushed trip to the principal's office. He glossed over it. Back out? I'll never let Yvette know what Mr. Sunderland said, he thought.