The next few days passed in a blur of activity. Between overseeing renovations, arranging supplies, and managing the kids, I barely had a moment to think. And yet, Crow lingered at the edge of my thoughts, his presence like the hum of an approaching storm.
He hadn't made another appearance since the park, but I felt him—watching, waiting. It was unnerving, but also strangely reassuring. For reasons I couldn't fully explain, I didn't feel like his gaze was a threat. It was… protective.
It was late when the knock came. I was in the middle of cataloging our growing inventory of supplies—canned goods, medical kits, weapons, anything we might need for the apocalypse—when Mouse's ears perked up. He let out a low growl, his massive form tensing as he stared at the door.
"Stay here," I told him, grabbing a knife from the counter as I approached the door. Peering through the peephole, I frowned.
Crow.
"What do you want?" I asked, my voice sharp as I cracked the door open.
"Are you going to let me in, or do you prefer to have this conversation in the hallway?" he replied smoothly, though there was an edge to his tone.
Reluctantly, I stepped aside, keeping the knife in my hand as he entered. He took in the room with a quick sweep of his sharp eyes, his expression unreadable.
"You've been busy," he said, nodding toward the neatly stacked supplies. "Preparing for something?"
"Cut to the chase," I said, crossing my arms. "Why are you here?"
Crow hesitated, his usual confidence faltering for a brief moment. "There's something you need to know."
I raised an eyebrow, waiting.
"The Jiang Mercenary Group isn't as loyal as you think," he said finally. "They've been bought out before, and they can be bought out again. If you're planning to rely on them when things go south, you're making a mistake."
I frowned. "And why should I trust you?"
"Because I've been in their position," he said simply. "And because I don't want to see you fail."
There it was again—that raw, unguarded honesty that made me question everything I thought I knew about him. But trust didn't come easily, not after everything I'd been through.
"What's your angle?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Why are you so invested in me?"
For a moment, Crow said nothing. His gaze flickered to the pendant sitting on the counter, then back to me. "Let's just say I owe you," he said finally. "For more than you'll ever know."
I wanted to press him, to demand answers, but the weight in his voice stopped me. Whatever his reasons, they were tied to something deeper than I could see.
The next morning, I found myself pacing as the kids ate breakfast, Crow's words echoing in my mind. I didn't like the idea that the Jiang Mercenary Group might not be as reliable as I'd thought. If they turned on me at a critical moment… No. I couldn't let that happen.
But the real question was: could I afford to trust Crow? And if I couldn't, what were my alternatives?
"Dàgē, why are you frowning?" Nao asked, her small voice pulling me from my thoughts.
I forced a smile, ruffling her hair. "Just thinking, little one. Nothing to worry about."
But it was a lie. There was plenty to worry about. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized I needed to take control of the situation.
By midday, I was back in the city, meeting with one of my most trusted contacts—a tech specialist who had helped me in previous lives. If anyone could dig up dirt on the Jiang Mercenary Group, it was her.
As we sat in her cluttered office, she tapped away at her computer, her sharp eyes scanning the screen.
"You weren't kidding," she said after a while, leaning back in her chair. "They've got a reputation for flipping sides when the price is right. And from what I'm seeing, someone's already put out feelers to buy them out."
"Who?" I asked, my heart sinking.
She shook her head. "Can't say for sure yet. But if I had to guess, it's someone who knows what you're planning—and doesn't want you to succeed."
My mind raced. This was worse than I thought. If Crow was right, then I couldn't rely on the mercenaries. But if I cut ties with them, I'd be vulnerable until I could build up my own defenses.
That evening, as I walked back to the apartment, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Crow.
"You're making a habit of this," I said, stopping a few feet away.
"I heard you've been doing some digging," he replied, his voice calm but his eyes intense. "What did you find?"
I hesitated, then sighed. "You were right. Someone's trying to turn them against me."
Crow nodded, as if he'd expected as much. "Then it's time for a new plan."
I frowned. "And I suppose you have one?"
He smirked. "As a matter of fact, I do. But it requires you to trust me."
The words hung between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. Trust wasn't something I gave lightly. But as I looked at him, standing there with an air of quiet determination, I realized something.
I didn't have a choice.
"What do you need me to do?" I asked.
Crow's smirk softened into a small, genuine smile. "Just follow my lead."
And for the first time in this life, I decided to take a leap of faith.