Most of the men lowered their knives and axes right away, afraid that lifting them too high would make them the first to get shot. Two who were particularly quick-witted even raised their hands in surrender. Natalie smiled with satisfaction. See? Firepower turns everyone polite. The two sides faced each other across less than a few yards, staring each other down. There were around 30 people in the opposing group, most of them foreigners. Some were dark-skinned, some pale; some had deep-set eyes, others blond hair and blue eyes. Only five or six looked Drakorian—well, not exactly. They just shared the same complexion. Who knew where they were actually from? After a moment's stalemate, the group shoved a middle-aged, yellow-skinned man forward. The man shuffled ahead reluctantly, eyes fixed on the gun in Natalie's hands, and stopped a cautious distance away. He stood there silently, as if on punishment duty. Natalie raised a brow. "What's this supposed to be?" Hearing her speak Drakoric only made him more nervous. He fidgeted with his sleeve, then finally muttered, "H-hello! Fellow Drakorian … what do you want?" She winced. That accent was painful. He really thought he could pass himself off as her countryman with that? Did he think she was an idiot? Natalie gave him a long, disdainful look. Then her eyes lit with mischief. "Hey, did you know? The cherry blossoms in Evervale are blooming." He blinked. "What?" Not Bordurian then. Her frosty expression eased slightly. She tried again. "Annyeonghaseyo! I've got kimchi—want some?"At once, his eyes lit up. "Kimchi?" Seeing his reaction, Natalie turned to Cassian with a satisfied nod. "Genoshan." No one else in the world got that excited about fermented vegetables. Cassian almost laughed. "Nat, behave." "They started it," she said with a shrug. No real Drakorian would ever greet their own with "fellow Drakorian." Sending some awkward guy in with a fake accent to pose as one of hers—did they really think she was that stupid? The man's face reddened when he realized from Cassian's amused smile that he'd been caught. "What … what do you want? That helicopter—was it yours?" Natalie clicked her tongue. "Forget the accent—what's with your sentence breaks? Who taught you to talk like that?" Cassian couldn't help a small laugh. "Nat, let it go. We should head up the mountain." She paused, then nodded. Right—they were here to reclaim a warehouse, not to teach Drakoric. She smiled sweetly at the Genoshan man. "Sorry, occupational habit. Let's go then, shall we?" He froze. "What do you want up there?" "To visit your camp—" Before she could finish, another yellow-skinned man approached from behind him, likely drawn by their long conversation. This one looked far less pleasant. He walked with his feet splayed wide, face full of arrogance. His brow ridge jutted sharply, nose hooked, and his face was pitted with scars and acne marks that made him instantly dislikeable.He gave Natalie and Cassian a wary glance, then eyed the three little ones warily before edging halfway behind the Genoshan man. Only then did he speak, addressing the other in a language Natalie didn't understand. Still, the choppy rhythm of it sounded oddly familiar. The Genoshan man responded, gesturing nervously—probably explaining what had happened. The pockmarked man's expression shifted as understanding dawned. "Oh! Soga!" "So-ga?" Natalie narrowed her eyes. Before she could react, the man rattled off another string of words, then slapped the Genoshan man on the back with a sneer. "Baka!" That did it. Natalie suddenly lunged forward, sprang up, and smacked the man square on the head. Each hit came with a word, "Baka! Baka! Baka, you idiot!" The pockmarked man staggered, eyes blazing. "Bakayarō!" he roared back. Which only earned him a harder slap. Cassian didn't move to stop her this time, nor did he urge her to continue uphill. He just stood by calmly, letting her vent. Once the red blood stirred, there was no stopping her. The pockmarked man trembled with rage but didn't dare fight back. The rifle in her hands spoke louder than any insult. Clutching his head, eyes red, he shouted in broken Drakoric, "You're a bully! Why are you bullying us?!" Natalie gave him a glare of pure defiance. "Do I need a reason to bully you?" She hit him again. "Back then, when you bullied us, did you have a reason? Huh?"