The two men shared another look, both seeming to reach the same silent decision. The tall, wiry one swallowed hard before forcing out his words. “Okay, ask already!” The other man was dark and skinny, his shifty eyes darting like he was trying to read her next move. His gaze lingered on the canned meat at her feet. He swallowed again and asked, “Ma'am, if we answer your questions, are you really gonna give us those cans?” Caroline gave a calm nod. “Yes. I always keep my word.” To make her point, she nudged the cans forward with the toe of her boot until they stopped right in front of the men. That little gesture worked. Soon after, they started spilling every bit of detail they knew about the so-called “leader” and her “holy water.” Apparently, the leader was a woman in her 30s. Before everything went to hell, she'd owned a small sandwich shop. She was short and nothing special to look at. She had once stayed inside a shelter, but after the great heat hit, her ability to produce water made her valuable. Some people pushed her to leave and start her own group, and she did. She was strong, trained in hand-to-hand combat, and her husband and two sons were built like tanks. All three had offensive powers, which gave the family an edge. With her power to make water and their fighting strength, they managed to dominate the nearby territory. In this blistering era of the great heat, when water was more precious than gold, anyone who drank her “holy water” only needed three sips to stay hydrated for a month and never feel the burning heat. The men said her control stretched for miles. Food really did make people talk. Two cans were enough to make them betray every secret their group had. They even described each member's power, piece by piece. Because of that, plenty of ability users in the area had pledged loyalty to her family. They called her their leader. Supposedly, no one called her “Saintess” because she was so hideous that the word just stuck in their throats. “The leader can't make enough holy water for everyone anymore,” one of them said nervously. “And other groups are circling us. So yeah, we've been extra cautious with strangers."“If you're going after the holy water, go for it, but don't hurt her,” the other warned. “She's the only reason any of us are still alive.” Caroline listened intently, her curiosity burning stronger. She didn't need water, and neither did her team, but the idea that three sips could make someone forget the heat for an entire month—now that was tempting. The men even told her where the woman was hiding. Caroline was pleased with what she got. She was about to ask about the jewelry and gemstones when the tall one opened his mouth, only for the scrawny one to cut him off. The thinner man glanced at Caroline, his face tight with hesitation. “Those cans paid for what we said. If you want more answers, that'll be two more cans.” As soon as he said it, he braced himself, like he was ready for her to strike. Raven showed his teeth in a low, threatening growl, the sound rumbling through the air like a warning drumbeat. Both men stepped back quickly. Caroline frowned. The scrawny man was pushing his luck. She'd already offered a fair deal in a world like this, yet he still wanted more. Then he blurted out, “I know where Leader keeps her jewelry! Give me two more cans, and I'll tell you exactly where it is!” Caroline's lips curved into a faint smile. That man's own cunning was about to get him in trouble. She only wanted to find out if the missing jewelry nearby had any connection to that so-called “leader.” She never intended to pick a fight or rob the woman's stash. If she could settle stuff through trade, she would not waste time fighting and making enemies. Besides, she didn't need to take the jewelry. All she had to do was touch it and absorb the energy it held. It was the scrawny man who got it wrong. Moments ago, he'd claimed he'd protect his group's secrets, but the instant he saw food, he was ready to sell out his leader's vault. The man was pathetic.Caroline didn't bother replying. She simply waved for Raven to follow her. “I'm out of cans.” As she walked away, she glanced back and saw both men dive at the cans. They ripped them open and ate like animals, the sound of metal scraping echoing through the empty street. Her brow furrowed. The people out here were clearly living harsher lives than anyone inside the shelter.