Chapter 3 - CHAPTER 3

The classroom fell silent.

The students stood there dumbfounded.

Not only because the timid Kendall had just hit someone but Kendall had emerged victorious.

But because-

They hadn't even seen Kendall's movements!

Kendall's speed was like special effects from a movie!

Too unreal!

The boy who had been beaten bent his body and stood up, one hand covering his face and the other clutching his stomach, his eyes filled with shock and indignation.

"Kendall, how dare you hit me! Have you forgotten who my mom is?!"

His name was Jaxon Smith, and his mother, Lisa was one of the trustees at Powell High School!

How dare Kendall mess with him? She was risking her future at Powell High School!

"Only the incompetent emphasize the support they have when they are at a disadvantage. Keep bluffing!" Kendall said calmly

"Just wait!"

Jaxon threatened as he stormed out of the classroom to report to him.

The rest of the students exchanged bewildered glances, expecting Kendall to regret or show fear.

But there was no trace of fear on Kendall's face.

She calmly flipped open her textbook, as if there was no one else around.

The morning light cast a slanting glow on her, enveloping her in a dazzling warmth. But the impression she gave off was cold, so cold that people dared not approach her. She seemed detached from the world, both lonely and arrogantly aloof.

"I must be hallucinating. How could a bumpkin become an aloof goddess!"

The less resilient children kept patting their heads with the palms of their hands, trying to snap themselves out of it.

Meanwhile, Geene Village's First Hospital.

In the special ward.

Anos lay in bed with an IV drip, his complexion much rosier.

Sitting by his bedside was a handsome man with a regal bearing and a tall stature.

He was elegantly peeling an apple, his fingers long and pale, with clearly defined knuckles. It was as if an artist was sculpting a masterpiece, and it was quite pleasing to the eye.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy.

Anos whispered, "I am fine. Damien, don't be angry."

Damien Knight didn't respond, continuing to peel the apple.

Anos quickly exchanged a glance with his bodyguard, Michael.

Wiping off a bead of sweat, Michael gathered his courage and said,

"Damien Knight, the commander just wanted to go fishing alone in the mountains. He didn't expect to run into a foreign assassin on our territory."

"Yes," another person chimed in. "We haven't figured out who sent that assassin."

Strangely, there's no trace or clue, considering the extensive surveillance network in the Rosemont.

"Phoenix." Damien stopped peeling the apple.

"You mean the person who attacked the commander is related to this 'Phoenix'?" Michael nodded with a solemn expression.

"It's indeed possible for her to pull off such a thing."

It's worth emphasizing that "Phoenix" is not her code name, but rather the honorary title given to her by the assassin community.

She had single–handedly taken down the biggest drug lord in the Golden Triangle, traversed the depths of the Amazon rainforest, and dismantled some extremist organizations. She was truly a legend.

So, if it was Phoenix, everything that had happened made sense.

"But Phoenix is dead."

Michael picked up the iPad next to him, entered a website address, and a video popped up.

He aimed the screen at everyone and pressed play.

The video was dark, intentionally shot in low light to obscure the location, with only a faint beam of flashlight illuminating the scene.

The light revealed a young girl lying on the ground, her profile displaying an innocent and fair complexion, but she was barely clinging to life.

" Come back. Don't you want to be reunited with your little sister?"

The voice echoed, and unexpectedly, the young girl gasped her final breath and became completely still.

She couldn't withstand the pain, given her fragile and sickly condition since childhood.

"Damn it!" The person behind the camera cursed in anger. "Save her! Save her now! Weren't you supposed to be more gentle? Damn it!"

Amidst the curses, doctors rushed in and made every effort to resuscitate her, but they shook their heads helplessly.

She had died.

And that was where the video ended.

"This girl is the Phoenix's younger sister."

Michael explained:

"A month ago, Phoenix escaped with her sister from the organization. However, her sister turned back halfway to buy time for her sister.

The organization's leader was furious and recorded the video to force Phoenix to come back. But unexpectedly, her sister died."

Michael's tone carried a hint of sorrow.

The girl in the video didn't reveal her sister's whereabouts, not even uttering a cry of pain.

Was she worried that her sister would return for revenge if she heard her in agony?

But her sister still returned.

"Seven days after the video was uploaded, Phoenix returned to the organization and perished in the fire along with those people."

Michael shook his head. "So, it's unlikely that Phoenix planned this incident."

Damien diverted his gaze from the iPad.

He couldn't believe that the mighty Phoenix had met such a tragic end.

"Sir! We've got Kendall's information," a soldier saluted at the door.

"Bring it here," Anos was curious about the content of the information.

On the first page of the document, there was a student photo of a young girl, with the following details written below:

Kendall, 18 years old, resident of Geene Village, father Luke, mother Malina, currently a senior–year student at Powell High School, an ordinary student.

"Is that all?" Anos flipped through the file back and forth, feeling that there was much more missing from it.

"Yes…" the soldier scratched his head, finding it hard to believe that the delicate and obedient girl in the photo had rescued his leader from the hands of an Italian assassin.

"Damien, what do you think?" Anos handed the document to Damien.

Damien looked at the girl in the photo for a moment, then his gaze settled on the words "Powell High School."

"I'm going to visit Powell High School."

The Knight Family must return the favor.

Powell High School.

The tightly closed gate of Class 2 suddenly swung open as a plump and angry–looking woman barged in.

"Where's Kendall?"

It was Jaxon's mother, Lisa, one of the trustees of Powell High School.

With a nasal strip in his nostrils to stop the bleeding, Jaxon followed behind Lisa, his face filled with anger as he searched for Kendall.

It took him less than three seconds to find Kendall because she was still sitting in her original seat, seemingly unfazed.

"Mom, she's right there!" Jaxon pointed and shouted.