The pockmarked man frowned. "Boss, what if they just kill us and storm the warehouse?" "Hmph!" Cash's face twisted darkly. "The detonator's on me. If anyone so much as lays a finger on me, none of us walk out alive." Natalie's eyes went cold, a sharp little smile tugging at her lips. Nice plan, she thought. Either way, you'd take us all down with you, huh? Then, a flicker of relief crossed her mind. Good thing I didn't lose my temper earlier. If I'd made a move or teleported in, this bastard might've blown us all to hell. She traded a glance with Cassian, then bent down and gave Lucky a calming pat. The dog had a short fuse and a faster bite—one wrong sound and she'd be across the room, tearing someone's throat out. Natalie wouldn't have cared if these idiots died, but if her supplies got blown sky-high in the process, that would've been a tragedy. Those two fools had no idea she understood every word they said. Worse yet, even her three "pets" could pick up on their little scheming whispers. The pockmarked man spoke again, wary, "Boss, just don't mess up the detonation. If it blows too close and takes the supplies with it, we're screwed." Cash nodded. "Relax." The bombs were planted in several spots, each tied to a separate switch. He'd already made up his mind: if they entered the cave, he'd trigger the second detonator—wipe them out without losing a single crate. But if they tried to kill and loot, he'd hit the first switch, blow the tent sky-high, and take everyone out with him. He glanced at Natalie's face—impatient, unimpressed—and muttered to his sidekick, "Get out before she starts suspecting something."The pockmarked man glared at Natalie and Cassian one last time, then stomped toward the exit. Cash turned back to them with an oily smile. "Sorry! Kept you waiting. My brother's just ... overly concerned." "Oh, is that so?" Natalie tilted her head, grinning faintly. "Because I actually understood what you two were saying." Cash froze mid-breath. The pockmarked man stopped dead in his tracks. Natalie savored their stunned faces for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Look at you! All pale. What, talking trash about me?" Cash's lips twitched. "N-no ... " His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to read their expressions—was she bluffing or not? Their faces looked calm enough. But those three mutated beasts behind her—the dog, the rabbit, the rooster—were bristling like they'd just heard death threats. He flinched for a second, then laughed it off. Get a grip. Animals can't understand human language. What am I, paranoid? Even if she had understood, he thought smugly, the detonator gave him absolute power here. That thought steadied him. His chin lifted again, confidence creeping back. He opened his mouth—and Natalie cut him off with a grin. "Relax, I was kidding. Like hell I'd waste time learning that godawful birdsong you call a language. I was just testing you." Then, she gave the pockmarked man a lazy once-over. "Judging from that guilty look, though, you and your little lapdog here definitely said plenty behind my back." "Birdsong?!" the man snapped. "And who are you calling a lapdog?" Natalie glanced at Lucky with a mock-apologetic sigh. "Sorry, sweetheart. Comparing you to him was an insult to dogs."Then, she looked back at the man, cool as ice. "And if you barked first, guess who's the dog?" The man's chest heaved violently. He was about to explode. If he didn't kill this woman today, he might as well slit his own stomach open and be done with it! Cash saw him shaking, ready to lunge, and panicked. "Stand down! Outside, now!" The pockmarked man clenched his fists so hard his knuckles popped. He drew a long, shaky breath—barely leashing his rage—then turned and started toward the door. But before he reached it, Natalie casually stepped forward and rapped him twice on the back of the head. "Hey, little dumbass! What's with the fists, huh? Who're you flexing at?" The pockmarked man's blood boiled. He howled like a madman. "Aaaaah! You—you evil woman! No conscience at all!" He ignored Cash's warning and spun around to swing—but her left hook was faster. One clean punch. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Cash stared, dumbfounded. What the hell just happened? Natalie flexed her fingers and blew across her knuckles. "Huh. Hard head." Cassian frowned and brushed her hand gently. "Next time, just insult them. Let me do the punching." Watching them flirt after knocking his man out cold, Cash's temples throbbed. Arrogant. Absolutely insufferable. Right in front of him—mocking, taunting, knocking out his crew—it was like she'd slapped him across the face.And the worst part? He still couldn't do a damn thing about it.