......

"Have you heard? The Atkinson's eldest daughter is back in town. Things are gonna get interesting now."

"Well, what's the big deal about her return? The second Miss Atkinson is the talk of Troutbeck, the socialite of the town. Heard she's even been chosen as an apprentice by the famous painter, Mr. Clarke. How can the prodigal daughter compete with that?"

"Hey, did you forget the marriage contract between the Atkinsons and the Brooks? The eldest daughter was the original betrothed one. But when she disappeared, the second daughter Olivia stepped in. Now that the rightful fiancee is back, there's bound to be some sisterly rivalry."

"I'm with you there, this is gonna be fun to watch. Let's start betting who the young Brooks lad will end up with - the elder or the younger Atkinson sister?"

"I'm in, I bet 500!"

"Count me in, I raise it to 1000!"...

In a rustic farmhouse, two groups were locked in a standoff.

Both sides were prepared, with equal numbers. The tension was palpable, the air thick with a sense of impending conflict.

Seated in the middle of the courtyard was a woman, probably in her early twenties.

Even to these hardened hitmen, used to seeing beautiful women, she was a sight to behold.

If her beauty was unmatched, then her cool, regal demeanor was even more unique.

She was holding a pot of flowers that seemed ordinary.

But those in the know would recognize it as the coveted "Drunken Orchid", a flower desired by the world's richest heiresses. The woman casually placed it aside, seemingly indifferent.

After a while...

She put down the flower pot and slowly lifted her head.

Her indifferent gaze swept over the black-clad figures in the courtyard, causing them to hold their breath.

As professional assassins, they instinctively assumed a defensive posture, sensing danger.

Suddenly, a soft chuckle broke the tense silence.

She stood up casually, her demeanor changing entirely.

If earlier she had seemed like a high-level threat, now she seemed like a street thug.

"Tell Joe I won't meddle with the situation in the Americas for now."

The group on the left visibly relaxed at her words. They had traveled a long way on orders from their superiors, just for this woman's assurance.

If they couldn't get it, their organization wouldn't let them off the hook. Their lives were quite literally in this woman's hands.

The group on the right, however, looked distinctly distressed. Her words were a death sentence for them.

Their purpose is the same, the answer they get and the consequences they bear naturally are the same.

They were cornered.

Lauren Bennett looked at their despair and paused for a moment.

"Tell your boss that as long as they don't mess with my country, I won't interfere with whatever is going on in Tywardreath. After all, I'm not that idle."

To Lauren, the guys in Tywardreath and the Americas were just troublemakers.

They'd been squabbling for years, never-ending, never able to get the upper hand over each other.

She had finally taken a vacation, why should she care about their petty squabbles? She'd come here to find peace, not to deal with their mess.

The group on the right saw a glimmer of hope.

The courtyard was no longer as tense as before.

The leaders of the two groups exchanged a glance and spoke in unison, "We appreciate your time, Miss Bennett."

Having received the answers they wanted, both groups left without further delay.

Although they didn't know Miss Bennett's identity, the fact that two continents' worth of top assassins had been dispatched was proof enough of her importance.

She had an aura of mystery.

Having been in this industry since childhood, the people they've killed can be described as countless.

In her, they sensed information from one of their kind.

They were the prey, and she was the predator.

Sending off a group of troublesome individuals,

Lauren packed her things into a black backpack and took out the hot food she had prepared in the kitchen. She sat in the courtyard and began to eat.

Over the years, she had developed the habit of cooking for herself. She finished her meal leisurely.

Just then, she heard distant footsteps approaching, accompanied by low chatter.

Lauren immediately knew that these were ordinary people, completely devoid of any internal energy.

It must be the people she was waiting for. They were right on time.

The butler and maid were grumbling about the difficult mountain road and the chicken and duck droppings everywhere as they walked towards the house.

To them, who were used to living a luxurious life, this was indeed a tough job.

They wouldn't have to go through this if it weren't for the sudden appearance of the eldest daughter.

Howard, the butler, was even more displeased with the eldest daughter. The maid was no better. She had been sent by Olivia to gather information, and she took this opportunity to add fuel to the fire.

Offending the old butler would surely cause trouble for the eldest daughter.

As the maid continued to chatter, she noticed that the butler had suddenly stopped in his tracks, his face filled with shock.

She followed his gaze and was equally stunned when she saw the girl standing in front of them.

The same thought flashed across their minds simultaneously,

"This girl is too beautiful, she's out of this world."

In the hazy landscape, the woman stood in the courtyard like a tall, majestic tree, too dazzling to look at directly.