Marcus and Gabby glanced at each other, nodded, and quickly left with Caleb. Hazel completely panicked. Her eyes locked onto little Alfie in Shirley's arms. She screamed, "Give me my brother! What are you trying to do to him?!" Thora sneered. She slid her gun back into its holster with a smooth motion. But her gaze didn't stay on Hazel; it moved past her and landed on Norman. "When a kid doesn't learn right when they're young, they grow up useless," she said. Her tone was calm but sharp enough to cut. "Not every child gets to grow up the way Felix and I did." She lifted Alfie from Shirley's arms and set him gently down on the floor. But the moment she tried to let go, the little boy suddenly wrapped his arms around her leg. He wouldn't let go. He even rubbed his tiny head against her leg, as if asking her not to leave him.Hazel finally rushed over and tore him away by force. "Grandpa, things here are handled," Thora said as she turned to Marlon, her gaze sharp as a hawk's. Marlon let out a long breath. He looked at his granddaughter—no longer the impulsive girl from before, but someone far steadier and colder—and he nodded. "Take your friends to get some rest. I'll speak with your father alone." He then told the guards, "Send someone to take care of the body. Give her a proper burial." "Yes, old Alpha," the guards replied and hurried off. When Thora nodded in agreement, Marlon finally relaxed. He jerked his chin toward Norman, then headed toward the side hall. It took a moment for Norman to snap out of his shock before he stumbled after him. Once the chaos ended, only Thora, her team, and Hazel remained in the wide, empty space. Hazel held Alfie tightly, her body shaking. She stared at Thora with pure fear. The moment Norman walked away, she was terrified she'd be the next body on the ground. Alfie, however, didn't understand the danger in the air. He just cried, wriggling in Hazel's arms, uncomfortable with how tightly she held him. His sad little eyes kept searching for Thora. When Thora fired earlier, she made sure his face was turned toward her so he wouldn't see her pull the trigger. So the little boy thought Laurel was just sleeping on the ground. He cried while staring curiously at the bright red blood on the floor. Soon, more guards arrived, along with the security team that had come to take Hazel and Alfie away. As they carried Alfie off, he reached out his tiny hands toward Thora and wailed loudly. He kicked, struggled, and tried to break free, but they still carried him away from her. The boy's cries echoed through the empty hall. "Thora, I'm hungry. Can I eat now?" Shirley's voice suddenly broke the strange silence in the room. She stared eagerly at the buffet table like a starving puppy, her stomach growling loud enough for everyone to hear. Thora's eyes were still fixed on the side hall where Norman had disappeared. She answered with a simple word, "Yeah." With permission granted, Shirley lit up like fireworks and rushed toward the table, instantly entering devouring mode. Harvey saw her sprint away. He rubbed his stomach and followed her with zero hesitation. Only Tristan stayed by Thora's side. He studied her profile for a few seconds before asking quietly, "Boss, since you knew Alfie isn't Norman's biological son, why didn't you tell him?"Thora's gaze sharpened. Her voice cut through the air, firm and absolute. "War should never touch children. And grudges don't pass on to them." One sentence. Enough for Tristan to understand everything. A slow, burning admiration filled his eyes. The corner of his mouth lifted without him noticing. This was the person he chose to follow. A woman born for the battlefield, a natural leader, someone with a will stronger than steel. Clear in her judgment. Never harming the innocent. In her past life during the apocalypse, she had maintained the same principles. She craved challenges against the strongest fighters, led an army that never lost, and never let the flames of war reach any child. In her rules, hatred could continue. Revenge could wait. But the innocent were never to be dragged into it. If Alfie hated her, she would give the boy time to grow. Thora would never kill a child just to vent her anger. But if he came of age and still insisted on revenge, there would be only one ending for him. "Not his real son?" Harvey wandered back over, cheeks puffed out with pastries. His words came out muffled, "But didn't the DNA test say that boy is Norman's kid?"