Edward furrowed his brows slightly and turned around again, his eyes filled with inquiry. “At the central park earlier, two men asked me for pastries from the ‘Watchdog Pastry House.'” “They were not after the pastries.” Jason said directly, facing Edward. “So, is this why you are here?” “And to settle a score?” Edward, the deputy chief, stepped back twice, stopping about a meter away from Jason. Temporarily setting aside the trash in his hand, Jason returned to the pastry shop and said to the female pastry chef: “Giselle, go, call the police.”