It was midnight in Jingtou, and the dim streetlights cast a sleepy glow across the quiet streets. Sarah Kingston had just wrapped up her last interview and was walking alone out of a winding alley, carrying her work bag.

The area she was in was an older part of the city, full of messy, narrow alleys. She’d come here to interview an elderly translator—an old lady past eighty—who was still passionately working on translations. The interview ended early, but since the woman lived alone with just a maid for company, she clearly cherished the rare visitor. She chatted Sarah's ear off and just couldn’t bear to let her leave.

The alley was deep and tucked away, and by now all the locals were fast asleep. Not a single soul was around. Sarah looked around with a sigh and decided to head out.

But no matter how she turned, it was like she’d stepped into a maze. She couldn’t find her way out. Suddenly, a faint cry broke the silence—someone calling weakly for help, their voice shaky and urgent.

"Shut up!" a man barked.

Sarah moved toward the voice and saw three or four men dragging a woman into the shadows. The woman clung desperately to a wall, barely able to call out before someone muffled her mouth.

Seriously?! She couldn’t just let this slide.

"Let her go!" Sarah said coldly, arms crossed as she stood under the light, her tall figure casting a long shadow.

One of the men noticed she was a woman and smirked, walking over.

"Well, lookie here. She’s kinda cute! Why don’t we take her too? Double the fun tonight, boys."

Fun, my ass. Sarah yanked out her pepper spray from her bag and blasted it right at his face.

"Argh! You bitch!" he screamed, clutching his eyes, then roared, "Tie her up! Let's shut this bitch up good!"

Two of them lunged at her. She sprayed again—hit one, missed the other. The second guy grabbed her and slapped her hard.

"You nosy bitch! Hurt my bro, huh? Let’s fix that!" he shoved her down and kept slapping her across the face, each hit laced with curses.

"Run! Get outta here, sis! They're gangsters—they’ll kill you!" the other woman cried out between sobs.

"Run? No one's leaving tonight," the guy sneered, his voice ice-cold and vicious enough to send chills down anyone’s spine.

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try," came a calm, cool voice from the alley entrance. Under the streetlight, the figure’s shadow stretched long across the ground.

"Ha, what’s up with tonight—heroes popping up like mushrooms after the rain," one of the guys who’d just recovered said with a nasty grin, completely forgetting how badly Sarah's pepper spray stung earlier.

Too bad, the man who showed up wasn’t in the mood to chit-chat. He moved fast—ridiculously fast—and before the thugs could even react, he had them all on the ground, groaning in pain.

The woman who’d been attacked bolted without saying a word.

Sarah winced, rubbing her sore cheek, then calmly walked over and kicked each thug in the crotch. Hard. The screams that followed sounded like dying pigs.

"Well damn, turns out the old saying’s true—hell hath no fury like a pissed-off woman," the man said with a teasing tone.

"You?! Thomas Duncan?" Sarah blinked, taken aback. What were the odds of running into him in a place like this?