The Heiress They Lost Came Back Overpowered

With a loud BANG, the flimsy door shuddered back and forth a few times before collapsing weakly against the wall, honorably discharged from service.

Deceased: The door.

Cause of Death: Homicide.

Murder Weapon: A boot, size 40-plus.

Age at Death: ...Unknown, but definitely not very old.

The room fell silent for a moment. Then, with no one knowing who started it, a frantic scramble began as people searched for anything to cover themselves, treating the two intruders to an unending chorus of screams.

As the door was kicked open, Yvonne Lowell pulled down the large hand that was covering her eyes.

She wasn’t a child. She’d been around the block a few times.

She’d encountered plenty of sordid scenes like this on past missions. Besides, her eyes had a built-in pixelation filter; to her, they were just a bunch of blurry, moving shapes.

’But I have to admit,’ she mused, ’these people are into some wild stuff...’

Aside from Yvonne Lowell firmly holding down Leo Grant’s large hand that was still trying to cover her eyes, neither of them made another move.

Yvonne Lowell watched them with a teasing look, not forgetting to greet the host in the language of Country S.

"Good evening. You’ve all been screaming for so long. Aren’t you tired?"

The four refugees instantly fell silent, clutching their blankets and huddling together.

Yvonne Lowell smiled with satisfaction. "Good. The four of you, get dressed, get off the bed, and go squat in the corner. But don’t scream again, okay? It hurts my ears, and that makes me unhappy."

The four refugees exchanged a look, seeing the panic and fear in each other’s eyes, and could only do as they were told.

They scrambled to throw on their clothes and ran to the corner, squatting without even daring to sit down properly.

Brown, recovering from his initial shock, glared at them with his hawkish eyes.

"Holy sh*t! Who are you people? Do you know who I am? How did you get in here?!"

"We’re the people who’ve come for your gift. We know who you are. And we walked right in through the main gate."

Yvonne Lowell saw what she was looking for on him. Her mood improved, so she naturally had the patience to answer his questions.

An outsider might have thought she was some well-behaved girl who had accidentally wandered into a stranger’s house, politely greeting the host and even playing a little Q&A game with him.

While the two of them stood there leisurely, they had no idea that her few short sentences had set off a storm in the minds of the two men across from them.

’Those civilians downstairs might have been amateurs, but there were a lot of them!’

’And with so many people resting on the second floor, it’s impossible that no one noticed anything unusual.’

’Furthermore, and most importantly, here in Country S, refugees are the most vigilant people you’ll find. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say their left eye stands guard while their right keeps watch.’

’Yet the building next door is full of refugees, and there wasn’t a single cry of panic or a scream?!’

’For them to say they just walked in through the main gate under these circumstances can only mean one thing: they brought enough people, and they’re skilled enough that those civilians were no match for them.’

’The guards must have all been killed, silently, before they even had a chance to react!’

Yvonne: ’You guessed it all correctly, but did it ever occur to you that I might be lying? And besides... is it really so hard to admit you were too distracted having fun, sweetie?’

Brown glanced at the camera facing the bed. The red light was still blinking; it was running normally, so why hadn’t the alarm gone off?

The alarm... right! Brown’s head snapped toward the monitor on the desk, only to find that the feed for every single security camera was frozen on the same image.

On the screen, the civilians downstairs were still standing guard properly, the refugees in the next building were asleep, and he and the others were still... entangled.

’Dammit! How could I have not noticed for so long!’

’These two just stand there so brazenly, not even making a move against us...’

’It seems they came prepared. We can’t take them on directly.’

Brown quickly put the pieces together, and his expression turned grim.

"I’ve never seen either of you before. Could there be some sort of misunderstanding between us?"

Yvonne Lowell waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, what misunderstanding could there be? There’s no misunderstanding. I already told you, I came specifically to get a gift from you."

Brown was speechless. ’This fucking woman,’ he thought, ’she’s completely unyielding! Can’t get a single damn thing out of her, can I?!’

Brown exchanged what he thought was a subtle glance with his confidant, then forced a smile that looked uglier than a grimace.

"What gift might you be referring to? If I have it, I would be more than willing to offer it to you."

Yvonne Lowell didn’t answer. She just stared at Brown’s confidant with a cryptic smile and said lightly,

"Pavilion Master, why is this old man on the far left so quiet? So rude."

While the two men were still reeling in confusion from her sudden switch to another language, Leo Grant drew his gun, chambered a round, and quickly pulled the trigger.

With a soft PFFT, before the confidant could even use his superpower to tear open a spatial rift, he collapsed.

"I agree," Leo said. "If he doesn’t like to talk, he should just never talk again."

The series of actions was so fast that Brown didn’t even have time to react.

He turned his stiff neck to the side and saw his confidant, the man who had followed him since childhood, lying beside him, no longer breathing.

The bullet had pierced the man’s brow and embedded itself in the headboard. Blood trickled from the hole, and his wide-open eyes seemed to stare at Brown, filled with an apology for being unable to get him to safety and the bitterness of a life cut short.

"Mmph!!!"

The four refugees in the corner clamped their hands tightly over their mouths, terrified that another scream would cost them their lives.

Seeing their obedient reaction, Yvonne Lowell nodded in satisfaction.

Her gaze then shifted to the furious Brown on the bed. "No offense, but you third-rate superpower users have some nerve. With such a pitifully small amount of spiritual power, how dare you not keep a weapon on hand? It almost makes me feel bad about having to get rough with you."

Brown roared internally: ’Are you blind?! Didn’t you see I was busy?! Keep a weapon on hand? What if one of these refugees grabbed it and blasted me mid-act?! Isn’t my life worth anything?! And you ’feel bad’ about getting rough? After a scare like this, I’ll probably be limp for the rest of my life!!’

Yvonne: ’Oh no, you won’t, you won’t. After all, you don’t have that long to live~’

Brown looked up at the man and woman standing not far from him. Since they knew about superpower users and spiritual power, it meant they were the same kind of people he was.

He knew there was no escape for him today. The only thing he could do now was to bet everything on one last, desperate gamble.

At this thought, a vicious glint flashed in Brown’s eyes. He began to gather power in his left hand, channeling the superpower within his body.

Soon, a mass of dark purple gas appeared around his left hand. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it lunging toward the pair.