"How?" Ms. Murong sneered, her voice low and bitter. "Apart from undressing me? You think I'll ever be the same after this?"

Tang Ziyi didn't flinch. "Hey," she said lightly, tapping her fingers against the table. "Only I know the information. And I'm not the type to gossip."

She leaned forward, elbows resting on the edge of the table, her gaze sharp yet sincere. "I want you to join us."

Ms. Murong blinked, caught off guard. "Me?" she echoed with a half-laugh of disbelief. "A mercenary? You're soliciting me?"

That flicker of stunned reaction—pride, confusion, defensiveness—was exactly what Tang Ziyi wanted to see. It confirmed her suspicion: this woman wasn't just capable; she had pride in her craft, in her independence. And her ego had just been wounded deep enough to spark introspection.

Tang Ziyi's lips curved into a grin. "That disbelief tells me you've never considered the possibility," she said. "Which is why you're perfect."

Ms. Murong scoffed. "So, after drugging me and ripping my mind apart, you're offering me a job?"

"Think of it as a redirection," Tang Ziyi said smoothly. "You're clearly skilled—operationally, tactically, even psychologically. It'd be a shame to let that talent be wasted on cheap freelance gigs and sporadic contracts."

Ms. Murong's brows furrowed, suspicion still anchoring her expression. "You don't even know me."

"I know enough," Tang replied. "I know you didn't come to Province N to cause trouble. I know you had chances to flee or fight but didn't. I know you care about people—those friends you quietly visited."

Tang leaned in slightly. "You're not the type who runs without reason. And I think you're tired of running."

Silence settled for a beat. Ms. Murong's jaw clenched. Tang could see the gears turning.

"I'm not saying you have to decide now," Tang Ziyi added. "But let's be honest—you're already in our world. Wouldn't it be better to walk in with purpose than be dragged along blindfolded?"

Ms. Murong clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stay composed as the surnamed Tang casually exposed her connections, a few minor secrets, and even her emotional weak spots. It was terrifying—how much could be unraveled so quickly. Plus, how much she herself had confessed.

Honestly, she never expected the shocking turn of events to end in… a job offer?

Innovative indeed, she thought with a bitter smirk.

"You've persuaded me a little bit," Ms. Murong said at last, her voice calmer now. The worst of the serum's grip was fading, though even she could feel the lingering honesty welling under her tongue. "But what if I refuse?"

Tang Ziyi tilted her head with amusement. "Listening to the first part of your sentence, I'd say you're already halfway on board. Besides, based on the theory, the effects of the drug should last another one to two hours."

"…Theory?" Ms. Murong's eye twitched. "You—! You used me as a guinea pig?!"

"Hmm. Nope. Maybe. Probably not," Tang replied, entirely unbothered. "You have to believe us. There's nothing in the serum that would cause long-term harm to your body."

"Then what was the heat? The racing heartbeat? The—agony?"

"Oh, that?" Tang Ziyi blinked. "Purely psychosomatic. A little… emotional overload, triggering hormone shifts. Essentially, your body betraying your pride. Happens to the best of us."

Ms. Murong groaned and rubbed her temple. "You're seriously saying if I refuse to join, you'll just let me go?"

Tang Ziyi smiled wider. "Oh no. That would be unwise, wouldn't it? How could we let someone who now knows everything just waltz out of here?"

"I knew it." Ms. Murong sighed, lips twitching in resignation. "So I don't have a choice."

"Come now, we're very democratic," Tang said cheerfully. "It's entirely your choice. Nobody is forcing you. But, you know, choices come with consequences."

She leaned forward and tapped the table twice. "Be brave. It's just a simple question. Yes or no?"

Ms. Murong almost flipped the table, if not for the fact that she still felt like a drowned cat—and also, deep down, she really didn't want to find out what Tang Ziyi would do if pushed.

"Oh, I see where you're stuck," Tang added, resting her chin on her palm. "Maybe you misunderstood us. We're not talking about killing you."

"That's not very reassuring," Ms. Murong muttered.

"No, no," Tang said brightly. "If you refuse, you'll just stay here. Forever."

"Excuse me?"

"In a nice villa, of course," Tang continued, gesturing around. "Under surveillance, but with food, water, three hot meals a day—different menus, too. You'll have internet, maybe, exercise time, swimming, movies, whatever. You just won't be allowed to leave. Isn't that cozy?"

Ms. Murong stared at her. "That's called unlawful detention. Also, unethical. Also, insane."

Tang shrugged. "Don't worry. Your digital footprint will be erased. No one will know you're here. Except us."

She snapped her fingers with a smirk.

Ms. Murong blinked. "That's even worse!"

Tang Ziyi's voice softened, almost conspiratorial. "Or… you say yes. You join. You get your life back, and maybe even a better one. Prestige. Resources. Protection. A real team."

Ms. Murong exhaled slowly. She didn't want to admit it, but it was tempting. Especially now, with her past peeled away, her defenses gone. "What's my role?"

Tang Ziyi stretched out her hand with a calm, confident smile.

"Welcome to the team. Spirit Fox is glad to have you. You'll be treated like any other operator—expect the danger, the excitement, and the chaos that comes with it."

Ms. Murong narrowed her eyes, gaze lingering on Tang Ziyi's extended fingers. "Should I say I'm honored?" she said dryly before finally reaching out and shaking the hand.

"I promise you," Tang Ziyi added, her tone almost playful, "after a few months here, you'll beg us not to kick you out, even if we try."

"We'll see about that," Ms. Murong muttered, still dazed from the truth serum, still bitter—but no longer outright hostile.

"Good. For now, stay in the room and let the serum wear off," Tang said. "There are refreshments prepared to suit your needs. Your future teammates will escort you to your new residence once you're clear."

Her expression turned more formal. "Forgive us—but compared to others, you'll be under mild supervision for a while. Think of it as… protective custody, within this complex. You'll have space, freedom, and eventually, autonomy. Just not yet."

She turned and gave a final nod. "I have to act on the intel you gave. Rest well."

With that, Tang Ziyi exited the room. The mechanical hiss of the door closing echoed behind her. Left alone, Ms. Murong slumped into the chair with a sigh, rubbing her forehead with steady fingers.

"…What have I gotten myself into?" she muttered.

Outside, Tang Ziyi briefed the two operators waiting nearby.

"She's one of us now," she said simply.

The two looked at each other and nodded, smiling in silent agreement. Whatever Ms. Murong's background had been, if Tang Ziyi said she would join, then she would join. And she would change.

Every new addition to Spirit Fox learned quickly. Even the most unruly were either reformed… or broken in. There was no middle ground. Besides, recommended one so far sufficed no problems at all among the ranks.

Later that evening, Tang Ziyi sat across from Yang Qingyue and Cai Ning, a quiet meal laid before them.

She'd raised an eyebrow in mild surprise when they arrived unannounced, but greeted them with her usual calm. "It's rare for both of you to come without warning. Hungry?"

"As always," Cai Ning said, already reaching for the plates.

"Well, you did say it'd be hard to return to bland food after Qingyu's cooking," Yang Qingyue added with a half-smile.

Tang Ziyi chuckled softly. "Careful. You're starting to sound like regulars."

The three sat, breaking bread in a rare moment of stillness—though the weight of their meeting was far from casual.

Yang Qingyue wasted no time. "You've got news."

Tang Ziyi nodded. "And you came for it."

"I'm not here to interfere," Yang Qingyue said quickly. "Not in Spirit Fox's operations. But I need to understand the scale of what we're dealing with."

Tang Ziyi relaxed slightly, appreciating the distinction.

"That's why Qingyu and I value working with you apart from our obvious closeness," she replied. "You're not arrogant. You don't assume you're omnipotent. You listen."

Tang's voice lowered as she continued. "Before this, I wasn't keen on the police getting involved. Your department's too exposed. Too soft. A single organized strike like what we suffer, and your people would be swept away. No offense. Being on the offense and on the defense are two absolute differences."

Yang Qingyue nodded in quiet agreement.

"But now that we've neutralized the attackers and gathered critical intel," Tang added, "I'm ready to share. It's important too. Remember Boss Hu."

"Who?" Yang Qingyue and Cai Ning exchanged glances.

Tang Ziyi chuckled. It was the exact same reaction she'd had when Athena first reported it.

She had nearly forgotten the first enemy she encountered upon arriving in this world.

Boss Hu.

He wasn't doing well in prison. Multiple charges had been filed against him—with ironclad evidence. Tang Ziyi had assumed he was already dead on his own term after so much manipulation.

She'd asked Athena why he was still alive. Apparently, his criminal résumé had initially scared the other inmates, buying him time. But as his backing crumbled, attempts on his life began surfacing.

Somehow, his cunning had kept him alive again and again.

What puzzled her was that none of his "friends" from the outside had moved to silence him. It was strange—completely opposite of what she and Ling Qingyu had predicted.