Natalie didn't stop until they reached the camp. The Genoshan man, now covered in bruises, ran off crying just like the pockmarked man before him. Behind her, Lucky bared his teeth in a wide grin, laughing so hard his belly shook. He loved nothing more than watching his master put idiots in their place. Natalie didn't bother chasing the man down. She was already inside the camp, no one dared stop her, and she headed straight for the largest tent at the center. The camp itself was laid out with near-military precision. The tents were lined up in neat rows, each separated by narrow walkways that served as paths. With Cassian beside her and the three little ones trailing close behind, Natalie strode along the widest lane. Heads began to appear one after another. People unzipped their tents and peered out warily. Every single one of them was a foreigner—mostly white or black, with a few light-skinned faces that clearly weren't Drakorian either. Their appearances varied, but the hostility in their eyes was the same: cold, sharp, and unmistakable. Cassian murmured, "Stay alert." Natalie nodded and kept walking. Being stared at by dozens of gaunt, hollow-eyed strangers of every color and race was enough to make anyone's skin crawl. They were so emaciated they looked half-feral, their sharp features and sunken cheeks making them resemble starving mountain monkeys. For a moment, Natalie worried they might leap at her with claws instead of hands. Fortunately, none of them moved. They just watched silently as she and Cassian walked past.Soon they reached the largest tent. Calling it a tent was generous—it was more like a massive yurt. Compared to the tiny one-person tents scattered around, this one—spanning nearly a thousand square feet—was the undisputed king of tents. Big enough to throw a party inside. The entrance flap was already rolled up, and two tall, broad-shouldered black men stood guard on either side. As Natalie and Cassian approached, both men stepped aside and gestured for them to enter. They exchanged a glance, tightened their grip on their rifles, and stepped in together. The moment they crossed the threshold, the guards dropped the flap and followed them in, taking positions behind—one to the left, one to the right. Natalie heard the movement and glanced back briefly. So they wanted to trap her like a rat in a cage? She didn't seem bothered. Turning forward again, she found herself staring at a large chair in the center of the tent—on it lounged a blond, blue-eyed man who could only be the leader. Standing behind him were the battered pockmarked man and the bruised Genoshan man. But what truly caught her attention wasn't them—it was the massive white tiger resting at the man's feet. Yes, a real white tiger. Its striped coat gleamed faintly even in the dim light, and though the apocalypse had left it gaunt, it was still enormous and terrifying. Even half-starved, it radiated power. The moment Cassian and Natalie entered, the tiger rose and let out a thunderous roar. Natalie tensed. That was no wild boar—this was a predator built for killing. Still, she kept her face calm, pretending not to care. Cassian's expression didn't flicker either—same stoic mask as ever. The blond man, however, looked stunned. In all his time commanding this beast, he'd never seen anyone who didn't react. Even hardened soldiers usually flinched or backed away at the sound of that roar. These two? Not even a blink. This was a tiger, not some housecat. He opened his mouth to speak—but before he could, the tent flap behind them burst open with a crash. Something huge and white shot through like lightning, charging straight toward him. He shrieked, leaping behind his chair and shouting for his tiger to attack. But the creature didn't come for him at all. It lunged directly at the tiger. For a split second, everyone—including Natalie and Cassian—froze. Then they realized what it was. It was Lucky. Lucky, Cash, and Baron had grown up during the apocalypse; they'd seen every kind of beast, but never a real tiger. The strange foreign faces had already made them curious. When they saw the tent flap close and heard the roar, their instincts took over. The three had rushed over to protect their masters—Lucky first, charging ahead like a white blur. Who dares to roar at my Natalie? Though Lucky had fought through countless battles, this opponent was on another level. A tiger was no joke. Natalie's heart leapt to her throat. She raised her rifle, ready to cover him before he got himself killed.But before she could pull the trigger, Lucky's huge head slammed into the tiger's chest—and sent it flying.