After sending Gavin his birthday gift, Liza prepared to leave the internet café. She had sent him a small animation—a cheerful figure waving a lightstick—something she used to send to Westbrook in the past. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, fueled by the thought that Gavin might appreciate it too. However, after sending it, there was no response. Liza glanced at her silent phone. How rude, she thought, tucking it back into her pocket. As she made her way toward the café’s door, she was abruptly stopped by an unsavory man. He had a greasy grin, yellow-stained teeth, and an air of arrogance. “Hey there, pretty lady,” he drawled. “Are you alone? Why not join me for some fun?” He leaned closer, reaching out as if to touch her face. Liza sidestepped his hand with ease, her expression calm. Around her, a small crowd began to cheer and jeer, encouraging the man.“Just say yes to my Brother !” someone shouted. “He runs this area—you’d be lucky to have his protection!” Bolstered by the crowd, the man puffed out his chest. “See? Stick with me, and I’ll make sure no one messes with you. Come on, don’t be shy.” But Liza only took another step back, her face cool and unreadable. The rejection visibly darkened the man’s mood. His smile twisted into a sneer. “You think you’re too good for me? Don’t act so shameless!” Her fingers brushed her pocket out of habit, searching for the mint candy she always carried—but she had left in a hurry today and forgotten it. With a small sigh, she raised her chin and said firmly, “I’m not in the mood for a fight today. Leave. Now.” The crowd erupted into laughter and taunts. “She’s got guts!” one of them called. “Brother jude, looks like you’ve met your match!” Another voice chimed in, “This’ll be fun to watch. A beauty with attitude—what’s not to love?” The mockery only fueled Brother Jude’s anger. His voice dropped, laced with menace. “Don’t push your luck, woman. You should feel honored that I’m even interested in you. Don’t make me regret it.” When she ignored him, his patience snapped. Lunging forward, he attempted to grab her arm. Bang! Before he could lay a hand on her, Liza’s fist connected squarely with his nose. A sickening crunch echoed through the air, followed by two streams of blood trickling down his face. The crowd fell silent, stunned. Brother Long staggered backward, clutching his nose. His shock quickly gave way to fury. “You little—how dare you hit me? You’ll pay for this—ah!” Before he could finish his threat, Liza’s foot shot out, delivering a sharp kick to his stomach. He doubled over, gasping in pain, his posture resembling a bent shrimp. She dusted her hands off nonchalantly. “Hit you? Oh, you’ll know what hitting really means if you keep this up.” Brother Jude’s minions scrambled to their feet, their loyalty kicking in at the sight of their boss writhing on the ground. “Get her!” Brother Jude barked through gritted teeth. “But don’t touch her face. Once we’ve taught her a lesson, bring her to me. She won’t get away with this!” A group of men closed in, surrounding Liza. She stretched her wrists and cracked her knuckles, her expression unbothered. “It’s a shame. Today’s supposed to be a happy day—no one likes seeing blood on a birthday.” But as the men advanced, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Well,” she murmured, “since you’ve made the effort to walk right into my fists, it would be rude not to send you off properly.” …Gavin and George arrived just in time to witness a chaotic scene. Seven or eight men lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain, while Liza stood in the center, arms crossed, looking down at them with disdain. “Already giving up?” she asked mockingly. “Pathetic! If this is the best you can do, you might as well stay home and practice some more.” George adjusted his glasses, which had nearly slipped off in his shock. He glanced at Gavin, his voice trembling. “President… should we, uh, step in and help Young Madam?” Gavin raised an eyebrow, his tone dry. “Help with what? Cleaning up the mess she made?” George swallowed hard, choosing to remain silent as Gavin’s words sank in. The defeated thugs, too humiliated to fight back, simply surrendered, sprawling across the floor as if playing dead. No amount of taunting from Liza could make them get back up. Realizing the fight was over, Liza gave a disappointed sigh and adjusted her clothes. “Not even a proper challenge,” she muttered, turning to leave. But as she took her first step, her eyes locked with Gavin’s amused gaze. Her mind froze. Why is he here?! Gavin, noticing her reaction, gave her a slow clap. “Young Madam Stone, I must say, your skills are... impressive.” Liza blinked, her composure slipping for only a moment before she quickly recovered. Pointing to the men on the ground, she said with a straight face, “They were after me because of my beauty. I had no choice but to defend myself.” She gestured toward Brother Long, who was quietly trying to crawl away. “Especially that one. He had plans to kidnap me and… well, do unspeakable things. I couldn’t just let that happen.” Her message was clear—she had only acted in self-defense. Gavin’s expression darkened instantly. His gaze shifted to Brother Long, cold enough to send a shiver down anyone’s spine. “Take care of it,” he ordered.George didn’t need further clarification. He knew exactly what Gavin meant, and Brother Jude’s future was now bleak. Meanwhile, Liza, unconcerned about what would happen to the men, felt a twinge of guilt. It was Gavin’s birthday, and here he was, forced to clean up after her. She lowered her head slightly. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this on your birthday. I didn’t mean to trouble you.” Gavin looked at her, his gaze softening as a faint smile played on his lips. “It’s no trouble,” he said calmly. “It’s my responsibility.” His words carried a weight that made Liza’s heart skip a beat, leaving her unsure how to respond.