Ten pounds of grains could be traded for a single bag of drink mix, and that deal drew in many people. As the crowd grew, they started swapping other supplies too. Soon, a small market formed just outside the neighborhood gate. It wasn't just folks from Maplecourt coming to trade—residents from nearby neighborhoods showed up as well. At one corner of the market, a few familiar neighbors who had just finished trading gathered to chat. "Hey," one man said, scratching his head, "can anyone tell me what that flashy tycoon sees in the psycho? I just don't get it!" Another neighbor shook his head. "I don't get it either. Every time I see her, my legs go weak. And this guy actually fell for her?" A third neighbor shrugged. "What else could it be? She's pretty." "Pretty?" The fourth neighbor snorted. "Who cares if Medusa's good-looking?" "Come on," the first one shot back. "Rich men have seen every kind of beauty. You think he'd risk his life just for a pretty face?" At that moment, the woman selling medicine nearby joined in. "She's not just pretty. I'd say most movie stars can't compare to her." No one argued with that. The second neighbor muttered, "I'll admit, when it comes to looks, the psycho is flawless." "But looks don't matter if you don't live long enough to enjoy them," the first replied. The third neighbor leaned in. "What do you mean? From what I see, Chainsaw Lady treats that flashy tycoon very differently."The group's eyes widened, all turning toward him. He lowered his voice, pointing up at the sky. "Remember those people who dared knock on her door? Every one of them ended up six feet under. But that tycoon's been to her place plenty of times and hasn't got a scratch on him!" The gossip burned hotter. None of them noticed the slim figure standing quietly by a nearby stall, her face hidden under a mask. "Dang, now that I think about it, you're right!" "My heart's broken. Turns out Medusa likes rich men after all." "I don't think it's just the money," another neighbor said. "The psycho has plenty of supplies herself. She's only in her twenties. Maybe it's love?" "Love??" The word hung in the air. Nobody could picture a chainsaw serial killer connected to something so sweet. After a long pause, someone asked, "Do you think if she really fell in love, she'd soften up a little?" The group stared at each other in silence. Finally, the first man snorted. "Don't kid yourselves. Anyone who falls for her won't be some gentle soul. For all we know, they'll team up and make life even harder for us." The conversation died instantly. Before anyone could add more, the stall owner nearby spoke up, calling out to the masked figure. "Hey, pretty, you've been standing there for a while. Got something you'd like to trade?" The group's attention shifted at once, eyes landing on the stranger beside them.The figure had long, smooth hair and a curvy body—it was clearly a woman. But her face was hidden behind a face mask. Wait. Smooth hair? Who has the luxury to wash and condition their hair these days? It couldn't be ... The first neighbor who gossiped caught on first. He shouted and ran toward his house. "It's the psycho!" The second neighbor's legs gave out, just like he always said they would whenever he saw Natalie. The thought of how he'd just been gossiping about her made his knees buckle even more. Luckily, two other neighbors were loyal enough to grab him, one on each side, and drag him off. That left only the woman selling medicine. She hugged her supply box, trembling in fear. "Miss, I never badmouth you! You heard me. I only said you looked prettier than a movie star." Natalie sighed and touched her mask helplessly. Had her reputation in the neighborhood really grown this much? Not only was everyone gossiping about her, but even with her face covered and her staying quiet, people still recognized her. She gave the lady selling medicine a glance but said nothing. The vendor from another neighborhood, who didn't know Natalie, was still pushing. "Miss, are you buying or not?" Natalie waved her hand and walked away.She'd only come because Olivia mentioned a small market had sprung up outside the gates. Natalie thought she might find an emerald or something useful. Instead, the market turned out to be tiny with barely anything to trade. Worse, gossip about her and Cassian was everywhere. Natalie returned home, speechless. The next evening, the helicopter came back to Maplecourt. Cassian knocked for a long time before Natalie finally opened the door. The moment she saw him, she scowled and snapped at him. "The plague's almost over. Why are you here again?" Over the past weeks, he'd come up with every excuse possible. The roar of his helicopter had echoed through the neighborhood, fueling countless rumors. This time, Natalie was determined to kick him out. Cassian noticed her bad mood and raised a brow. "What's wrong?" "You've ruined the way people see me in the neighborhood!" She pouted and whined. He looked confused. "What do you mean?" "Now everyone's saying a flashy tycoon's gone crazy for me—flying his helicopter here every single day just to see me."