Chapter 3: The Cat and the Predator
By 8:47 PM, the task was done.
Xia didn't just complete missions—she devoured them. The encrypted defense data, layered in seven algorithms and military-grade firewalls, was torn apart in thirteen minutes flat. Her fingers flew across her custom keyboard like music—mechanical, precise, deadly.
At 8:52, she casually messaged Rin:
God Gu: "Done."
Rin: ...Already? That job was meant to take a *week*. I gave it to a team last year. They cried.
God Gu: "They were slow."
She stretched, shut her laptop, and stared at the ceiling.Silence. Stillness. Emptiness.It annoyed her.
By 9:00 PM, boredom had won.She slipped into black running shoes, tied her hoodie, and vanished into the night.
The streets of Verdant Hills were silent but not asleep. Everything was too clean. Too manicured. The kind of place where secrets were buried beneath flower beds.
Xia's feet moved fast and steady, her breath even, her mind still calculating things she didn't need to. But then—A faint, broken meow.
She stopped.
There, near the hedge, sat a small gray cat—muddy, thin, and trembling.
Xia blinked.
Something about its large eyes made her heart pause. Her cold expression softened, lips tugging faintly upward. She crouched down wordlessly, letting the cat sniff her fingers.
"You're a mess," she murmured.
The cat rubbed its head against her palm.
She stayed there for longer than she meant to—stroking its fur, letting it crawl into her lap like it belonged. The sharp, untouchable girl suddenly looked... soft. Almost warm.
But she was still Xia.
Ten minutes later, she stood, wiped her hands, and took off again.This time, with more lightness in her step.
Then—she jumped.A single, fluid movement—up, over the railing, across the terrace.She landed silently on her own balcony two floors up.
She didn't look back.
But someone had seen everything.
From the next villa over, a man stood with a glass of red wine in hand, eyes fixed on the girl who had just vaulted into the air like it was gravity who needed permission from her.
His lips curled.
"She plays with stray cats," he mused, his voice velvet-drenched steel.
Tall, suited, and sinfully good-looking, he leaned on the railing as though carved from midnight—sharp jawline, hair perfectly tousled, eyes darker than the wine in his hand. The youngest heir of the most powerful family in the nation, the man people whispered about but rarely saw. LI Fan
And yet, tonight, he stood still—captivated by the girl who didn't even know she was being watched.
He pulled out his phone and tapped once.
Seconds later, a voice answered. Deep, crisp. His best friend and assistant. The only man in the country who dared interrupt him without dying.
"Yes?"
"Did someone shift into 8-A recently?"
There was a pause. Then:"Yes, sir. A girl. Want me to run a background check?"
He took a sip of wine. His gaze lingered where she had vanished.
"No need," he said smoothly, eyes gleaming.
"She smells like a secret... and plays like a cat."