Just as Oliver Scott was about to speak up, Alma Ferreira gave him a glare, forcing him to retreat. Nora Scott being brought home by Ernesto Scott was already a shock for Alma, and Oliver didn’t dare defy her any further. Alma’s face didn’t show anger, but her tone carried a hint of disappointment, "If Mrs. Carter hadn’t called me this morning, I wouldn’t even know you dared to do such a thing behind my back." Because of Nora, Alma hadn’t slept all night. At daybreak, her usual social circle started calling to verify if it was true that Ernesto had brought Nora back home. Good news barely travels, bad news spreads like wildfire. Hardly anyone knew when Evelyn Easton married Ernesto Scott, but Nora returning home with the label of "illegitimate daughter" spread like wildfire. A friend spent half an hour comforting her, then inadvertently mentioned Nora’s profession, discovering she was a comic artist, the friend directly asked— "That’s perfect, isn’t it? Isn’t Sophie from your family also a comic artist, and quite a famous one? She’s been trending recently. Can’t she overshadow the illegitimate daughter?" Alma was bewildered and kept probing, only to learn that Sophie had been posting comics online since last year, achieving remarkable results. Her latest work was particularly well-received in the comic circle. She was somewhat angry, mainly because her daughter was a renowned comic artist known by millions, yet she only heard about it from others. Sophie bit her lip slightly, softly defending, "I genuinely like comics." "If you like it, you like it. If you want to be a comic artist, then be one." Seeing her pitiful look, Alma’s expression softened considerably, saying, "If you talked to me properly, it’s not like I would stop you." Sophie and Oliver exclaimed in unison, both showing signs of joy. Turning her head to look at Oliver, Alma feigned annoyance, "It’s none of your business." Oliver stuck out his tongue. Sophie was overjoyed; last night’s probing made her feel utterly hopeless, but today the situation turned around unexpectedly... She moved forward and hugged Alma, "Thank you, Mom!" "What are you doing this early in the morning?" Ernesto’s inquiry suddenly came from upstairs. Sophie quickly released Alma and stood aside. Oliver thought for a moment, didn’t greet, and sat back down. Alma turned to look upstairs and said, "Sophie has been secretly drawing comics without us knowing. I heard she’s doing well, and many people online like her." "Really?" Ernesto was stunned for a moment but didn’t react much, just nodded, "Having some interests and hobbies is good." Sophie’s heart sank a little, her joy somewhat extinguished. She had works and achievements, while Nora didn’t even have any work to show, yet for Nora it’s "our family needs an artist," but for her, it’s just "having some interests and hobbies is good"? Even Oliver frowned slightly at Ernesto’s differential treatment. The porridge in his bowl became tasteless. He got up, picked up the backpack Lisa brought down, "I’m off to school." The little joy of the morning dissipated in the cool air. This was a small alley in a remote location. The weather still hadn’t improved, gloomy and gray, and the cold wind howled through the alley, the sound like a beast roaring past the ears. Original content can be found at novel-fire.ɴet Pedro Langley drove his car to the front of a fruit shop based on the location. The street was old, bearing the marks of time, and the shops along the street were all tinged with the frost of years. The moment Pedro parked the car, he saw Nora sitting outside the door with... an old man. He looked several times before confirming Nora’s identity from the bulky military coat. The two were sitting at the entrance of the fruit shop, the door was open, yet they were drinking the northwest wind. Between them was a chessboard, and beside them was a brightly burning brazier. They were dressed in thick, bulky clothes—the military coat and the old man’s coat both had an air of antiquity, inexplicably matching the style of the street. Nothing seemed out of place. When Pedro walked over, Nora looked up to greet him, then pulled her hands out of her sleeves to make a move, "Check." The old man across from her was silent, grumbling and rolling his eyes. After a long while, he waved his hand, "Not playing, not playing." He stood up annoyed, first glanced at Pedro with slight hostility and regret, inwardly cursing Joseph Sutton for being so unambitious. Then, he instructed Nora, "Quinn said, Michael will bring you food by noon." Having been nagged about a "boyfriend" for half an hour, and despite her repeated denials, she had to acquiesce. Seeing him emphasize "you" not "you all," she reminded, "For two." The old man snorted arrogantly, gave Pedro another cold glance, picked up the groceries bought in the morning, and strolled off. Pedro, who received two inexplicable cold looks, was quite baffled. Without thinking much, Pedro asked Nora, "Why not go inside to play?" "The open-air feel is what I want." Nora leisurely tidied up the chessboard, nudged the brazier closer with her foot, then looked up, "Wanna play a game?" Pedro was silent for two seconds and then amiably sat opposite. "Did you go back to Cloudwater Haven this morning?" Oracle Langley casually asked while helping organize the chess pieces. Leaving the Scott family early, Nora swung by Cloudwater Haven to change into a thick, warm military coat. When the chessboard was set up, Pedro and Nora played in the open cold wind, but after a short while, Pedro got up and left, went to the nearby convenience store to buy hand warmers and heat pads, and tossed them to Nora upon returning. Despite herself, warmed by the exceptionally warm hand warmers, Nora placed them silently on her lap. The two played chess and braved the cold wind until a high-end car arrived. "Not playing anymore, I’m stretching my muscles." Abandoning the game heading towards defeat, Nora stood up and tossed the hand warmers onto the chair. She placed her hand in her pocket, suddenly touching an object she didn’t know how long it had been there, paused, and then smirked as she raised her gaze towards the luxury car. Pedro sat unmoved, calmly rearranging the chess pieces, placing them back in their original spots on the board as if everything to follow was none of his concern. The first to get off was the driver, circled around, and opened the rear passenger door. Then, a woman dressed in opulence, appropriately styled, emerged from the car, her ensemble of brand names clashing with the old street. Helena Wills, Ward’s daughter. From the moment Antonio Easton had Nora stay at the fruit shop, Nora knew— Staying at the fruit shop was a pretense; dealing with Helena Wills was the real objective. Helena had thoroughly searched Ward’s home, making Ward so angry that he was hospitalized. With no golden cicada at home, Helena was bound to search the fruit shop. Evil is best addressed by its own kind. Nora had no other strengths, but years in the Martial World made her adept at punishing "villains." Helena, dressed in a mink coat, approached aggressively. Seeing the fruit shop door wide open with two people at the entrance, her gaze fixed directly on Nora. She spoke with a condescending tone, "Who are you, and why are you here?" Pedro’s eyelids flickered, and he frowned in displeasure but didn’t speak. "Is the money ready?" Nora, with both hands in her pockets, her voice mild, her demeanor nonchalant. If not for the military coat dampening her aura, at the moment there would be a distinct vibe of a gangster transaction. Helena was bewildered, "What?" Kicking the brazier to the side with her foot, Nora stepped forward lazily, "Ward said, 3 million, non-negotiable." "3 million?!" Helena’s eyes widened, "Does he think—" She didn’t finish her sentence. Because visibly, the woman with the laid-back demeanor had changed her expression, her lips curled into a slight smile, yet her eyes were full of cold intent, the gaze sweeping over like two sharp swords piercing the heart, chillingly freezing. In mere seconds, she was sharp, brimming with murderous intent. She opened her mouth, enunciating clearly, "If not, then scram."