After Jeremiah left, Andrew initially planned to ask the girl he was hitting it off with for a drink. At that moment, however, Jeremiah called, demanding a meeting in the bar's back alley in three minutes.

“The back alley? What's going on there?” Regardless, Andrew didn't hesitate. He hurriedly dismissed the girl, barely managing to put on his jacket before rushing over, worried about an emergency.

But he found Jeremiah standing perfectly still, smiling at a cigarette butt on the ground. Andrew rubbed his eyes, thinking he must be hallucinating, but Jeremiah was indeed smiling. This was shocking. Andrew had known Jeremiah his whole life and could count on one hand the times he’d seen him even chuckle. Jeremiah was always cold and reserved. Getting him to smile was practically impossible; no one would be foolish enough to ask the heir of the Chambers family, the youngest major general in the country, to smile on command.

“What's going on? Why's Jeremiah chuckling at a cigarette butt? This is more unsettling than being in a dark alley,” Andrew muttered, sighing. “Should I run? Seems too late for that…”

“Get over here,” Jeremiah ordered.

“Alright, I’m coming!” Andrew replied. Great! Classic Jeremiah—cold and terse as ever.

Andrew scurried over, stealing glances at Jeremiah. Oddly, he sensed a good mood. This made him curious about the past half hour, but he didn’t dare ask, fearing the consequences.

Jeremiah slowly looked away from the cigarette butt, his tone tinged with annoyance. “Get the surveillance footage from the bar's back alley for the past hour. Back it up and send it to Mayor Wyatt Langford.”

Andrew thought Jeremiah's mood swings were extreme, but after seeing the footage, he understood and felt furious at the perpetrators. His focus shifted to the task at hand.

“Wyatt Langford? David Langford’s second son? The one sent to Seacrity to improve his reputation? He’s mayor now?” Andrew was astonished. A forty-year-old mayor had immense potential.

“No wonder David stepped down early. He was setting his son up for success. What a good dad!” Andrew felt a pang of envy. He couldn't rely on his father's success; his father only cared about discipline and barely acknowledged him.

“Tell him I want results by tomorrow,” Jeremiah added coldly.

Andrew nodded. Well, I guess I'm just his lackey. But it's not so bad. I must be a masochist. No matter how hard Jeremiah pushes me, I still have affection for him! He rarely considered his position as the son of the deputy commander of the military district—except for Jeremiah, no one dared to cross him.

When Yvette returned home, it was past midnight. The Chambers family was asleep. Only Lucas was waiting.

He noticed a tear in her jacket. “Ms. Zeller, is everything okay? Did someone bully you? Who would be foolish enough to mess with the Chambers family?”

Yvette raised an eyebrow. Her earlier fierceness had faded. “It’s nothing. I was doing the hitting.”

“You were hitting someone? Ms. Zeller, you have quite the sense of humor.” Lucas sighed, thinking, Who could this little lady possibly take down? She must be exaggerating.

Sensing his disbelief, Yvette didn't argue. She had told the truth.

“What do you need?” Yvette yawned, feeling drowsy. She glanced at Lucas, figuring he was too weak for a fight. She decided to go to bed.

Lucas, there at Zachary’s command, delivered a message. “Mr. and Mrs. Chambers have planned your welcome home party and Ms. Winona Chambers’ apprenticeship ceremony for the 5th of next month. If you’d rather not have it, Mr. Chambers said he could make other arrangements.”

“They can do whatever they want.” Yvette didn't care.

“Then, Ms. Zeller, get some rest. I’ll take you to school tomorrow,” Lucas said respectfully before leaving.

Yvette slept well, thanks to her drunkenness.

On Monday morning, Seacrity buzzed with two major stories. First, the deputy chief of the Seacrity police station, Henry Zimmerman, was fired for corruption. Second, a major incident from the previous night was the talk of the town, even among the cleaning ladies.

“Those guys are the worst! They treated that young lady so badly it drove her to despair. They even disrespected her grandmother.”

“Seriously! They should go to hell! Anything less isn’t enough for those jerks. It’s just tragic.”

“Exactly! I need to keep a close eye on my granddaughter and make sure she knows to steer clear of bars. Yeah, I should hurry back home.”

The previous night, a group of men on Seacrity's busiest street had stripped, acted lewdly, and shocked passersby. Some people recorded and posted the videos online. The police arrived and took the men away, but another video surfaced less than an hour later.

This video showed the men discussing their actions—drugging a girl, threatening her grandmother, and revealing more victims. They had filmed their actions to intimidate the girls.

Within two hours, the video spread like wildfire, igniting outrage. People flooded official platforms demanding justice, especially for the deputy chief in the video.

Meanwhile, Henry was with his mistress, oblivious to the chaos. He was arrested at the police station without explanation.

The situation was serious, prompting Mayor Wyatt to address the public. He assured everyone that no criminal would escape justice and vowed accountability for the victims. The outraged public began to calm down, but they remained eager for results.

After his press conference, Wyatt rushed back to his office. His secretary, noting his urgency, recalled a mysterious visitor that morning. A chill ran down her spine—who was this big shot making the mayor act so submissive?

At his office door, Wyatt took a deep breath, straightened his jacket, and checked with his secretary before entering. “The task you assigned has been completed,” he said.

Jeremiah, by the window, turned slowly, extinguishing his cigarette. His calm yet intimidating presence made everyone uneasy.

Wyatt thought, Mr. Jeremiah Chavez really lives up to his reputation. Not only is he a high-profile heir, but he’s also the youngest major general in the country. I’ve heard he commands a secret unit handling overseas matters. His vibe is just terrifying!

Wyatt had received a mysterious call the previous night. Initially dismissing it as spam, he eventually answered. It was Andrew, the troublesome grandson of the Mitchell family.

Andrew sent a video. Wyatt knew its significance. The problem was, Andrew didn’t fall under their usual chain of command. Even with the Mitchells, couldn’t he wait until tomorrow?

Wyatt planned to brush Andrew off with official jargon. The video involved Henry, whose family had considerable influence in Seacrity and Betrico. Dealing with him wouldn’t be easy.

But when Andrew mentioned a name, Wyatt's stomach dropped: "Jeremiah."