The tires rolled steadily over the asphalt road, carrying the car toward a discreet auto shop on the outskirts of town.
Serena slowly drove the vehicle into the garage, the engine rumbling quietly before going silent. She opened the door, stepped out, and said calmly to the shop owner who came to greet her:
"Sir, the accelerator seems to have an issue. Would you please take a look?"
The owner glanced up. His eyes flickered slightly as he took in the woman before him.
She wore a simple white dress and a white mask. Her whole demeanor was gentle and restrained, devoid of any sharp edges.
Behind her stood a white SUV—ordinary in style, unremarkable on the street, far from any luxury vehicle.
Yet her voice was calm as ever. She patiently repeated:
"The accelerator seems off. Please take a look."
Her tone wasn't too loud or too soft. It brought the man back to himself. He paused, turned to wave over a mechanic, and pointed toward her car. "Go check it out."
Then he turned back to Serena, his gaze now difficult to read.
"Would you like a cup of tea?"
Serena followed the man with steady steps, showing no hesitation as they walked past an unremarkable iron door. Behind it, an elevator waited.
The owner pressed a button and discreetly observed her expression.
Her face was serene—no hint of confusion.
The elevator descended smoothly in silence.
Ding—
The doors opened to reveal a sprawling underground garage, much brighter than the shop above.
Everywhere one looked, luxury SUVs stood gleaming under the lights—black G-Wagons, Range Rovers, Bentleys, Cayennes, and Rolls-Royce Cullinans…
Serena paused at the elevator entrance, her gaze sweeping calmly across the vehicles.
Only then did the owner relax. He gave a barely noticeable smile and gestured politely.
Serena stepped forward and stopped in front of a Cullinan.
The man was about to begin an introduction when she interrupted, voice even:
"This one. I want it at BR7 bulletproof level."
BR7—the highest civilian-grade bulletproof specification.
The owner's brows furrowed sharply. Of all people, he hadn't expected such a request from this soft-spoken young woman.
But Serena didn't elaborate. She paid the deposit straightforwardly and agreed on a three-month delivery time.
Leaving the shop, Serena drove toward the Lakeside District.
Not long after she left, another car pulled into the garage.
The owner, still holding Serena's order form, clicked his tongue as he gave instructions to begin the modifications. "These days… even rich girls are scared of being killed, huh?"
Then he noticed the new arrival's license plate ending in triple sevens.
He instantly straightened up.
This was someone he couldn't afford to disrespect.
Adrian Pryce didn't even get out of the car. The window rolled down, revealing his sharp profile.
One hand gripped the wheel, the other held a cigarette between his lips. His tone was careless:
"That Cullinan. Modify it to BR7."
Vincent, the shop owner, broke into a cold sweat. His legs nearly gave out.
"T-Third Master… that Cullinan was just ordered by someone else…"
Adrian's gaze locked onto him, a pressure that made Vincent visibly sweat.
He hadn't even spoken yet, but Vincent stammered:
"Th-Third Master… she wanted BR7 as well… I could try to cancel it for you…"
Compared to this terrifying man, that young lady seemed far easier to negotiate with.
Luckily, a new Cullinan was arriving next month. They could reassign that to her.
But this man—this man could not be made to wait.
As if amused, Adrian gave a lazy chuckle. His voice turned dark:
"Someone snatched my ride and you want me to take their second-hand trash?"
Second-hand? It hadn't even been modified yet!
Two million worth of "trash," and Vincent now felt like he was the trash.
His knees were trembling when Adrian suddenly laughed, something sinister dancing in his expression.
"She asked for BR7 too?"
Vincent nodded.
"Good," Adrian's grin widened. His hand reached out of the car window—clutching a gun, aimed directly at Vincent's forehead.
Vincent's face turned ashen.
"Next time I see it on the road, I'll crash right into it. Let's test the BR7 level for real."
Madman.
Vincent nearly collapsed on the spot.
...
The thousand-square-meter facility stood on the southern banks of the lake, within the Brightmoor territory. Across the lake lay Duskwane.
This sanatorium, under the jurisdiction of the Thirteen Provinces, housed both a public-facing hospital and a secretive internal medical wing.
The outer courtyard treated high-end patients with top-tier equipment.
The inner courtyard was reserved for cases that could never appear on official records—gunshots, explosions, nerve damage…
Many patients were from the inner provinces, but just as many were from the chaos beyond.
Serena pulled into the outer courtyard, passed verification using her ID badge.
"Identity confirmed: Willa." The cold mechanical voice triggered the unlocking of a bulletproof security door.
In the inner courtyard, every nurse and doctor used pseudonyms, always wearing masks. Some only changed their last name, some their full name. Some changed nothing at all. It was a maze of truth and illusion.
Inside her office, Serena changed into her white coat.
A knock on the door.
"Dr. Willa, are you in?"
"I'm here. Come in," she answered gently, putting on her mask.
The nurse, Lily, entered holding a file.
"Here are the patient records for today."
Serena flipped through them carefully. No names, no photos—just room numbers and surgical notes.
Lily couldn't help but stare at Serena's eyes and features.
According to rumor, she had transferred from the outer ward just two months ago. Once, by accident, Lily had glimpsed her real face.
It was unreal.
Like a goddess fallen to earth.
Even behind the mask, one could glimpse a trace of her beauty.
Serena closed the file and stood up. "Let's go."
Lily suddenly noticed her left hand. With a cheerful gasp, she chirped:
"Dr. Willa, are you married?"
Serena glanced at the ring on her finger and gave a faint smile.
"Mm."
Her calm smile startled Lily, who had never seen this ice-cold doctor show such warmth.
Just what kind of man could make Dr. Willa smile like this?
Lily leaned in with a teasing tone:
"Such a beautiful ring—your husband must love you very much~"
Serena said nothing.
Her husband had called her disgusting last night.
But she didn't mind. From the moment she stepped into the Pryce family, she had already predicted this outcome.
Her eyes dimmed. She slipped the ring into her coat pocket and picked up the patient file.
"Let's go."