Instigator

Instinctively, Claire grabbed the piece of wood in Erik's hand. Seeing this, Erik commanded, "Little brother, what are you doing? Hand over the box."

"Why should I? I have a share in it too. Don't think you can keep it all to yourself." The alliance quickly crumbled in the face of greed, and Marino clutched the box and bolted toward the door. But little did he know, Aaron was waiting for an opportunity. He grabbed the rolling pin by the door and struck his own younger brother on the head.

"You bastard."

"You son of a bitch."

...Angry insults flew as the three of them erupted into a brawl, punching and kicking each other in a chaotic frenzy.

Meanwhile, Claire, the instigator of this mess, calmly sat on a bench, sipping wild mountain tea and enjoying the spectacle.

Crack.

A slight cracking sound echoed in the room, causing everyone to freeze, their eyes locked on the spot where the fist met the blade.

There was no blood—Claire was safe. Even though the blade had been dulled, it was still astonishing that it withstood Erik's powerful blow. A few seconds later, the broken knife clattered to the ground, startling them back to reality. Claire's first reaction was swift—she raised her hand and delivered a clean chop to Erik's neck. With a muffled groan, he collapsed to the floor.

Claire took a deep breath, gazing at the firewood chopper with lingering fear before marveling at her own hand, the same hand that had just blocked the knife. After confirming that she was unharmed, she began to reflect on the strange force that had surged through her, making her incredibly strong in the dangerous moment.

Later that evening, after driving the James family out of the house, Claire prepared to cook. However, when she opened the rice bin, she found it emptier than her face.

Claire: "..."

She searched her room for a long time, only to realize that she didn't have a single penny. She had just returned from the village farmland, only to find that her grandma had passed away and the remaining food in the house had been consumed days ago. Not wanting to use her grandmother's savings, she dragged out her iron box and took out a pen and notebook inside.

These were rewards she had earned from topping the village school examinations, and in the past, she would fiercely protect them. However, after everything she had gone through, she no longer cared about such small things.

Taking advantage of the fading daylight, she hurriedly carried her things to the village grocery store at the entrance. In this life, she kept her head down and walked on, indifferent to the curious or scrutinizing gazes of the other rural teenagers.

At that moment, a car parked by the side of the road started up and headed toward the village entrance. Inside the car, despite the modest exterior, the luxurious interior was adorned with a circular sofa. The assistant sat upright, his eyes slightly lowered, respectfully reporting,

"Boss, it's been confirmed that Augustus's visit is part of internal struggles within the Miller family. In addition, Augustus has instigated some members of the company's board of directors against you. Now, they're questioning your whereabouts, claiming you don't spend enough time at the company."

One by one, updates that could affect international business were delivered inside the car. However, the man sitting in the middle of the sofa remained silent. The faint light from the car's ceiling cast shadows over his narrow eyes and sharp eyebrows, accentuating his handsome, chiseled face. His thin lips radiated an icy coldness, further enhancing his striking appearance, more captivating than that of any male model.

No one would have guessed that this man was the feared leader of both the military and the powerful Miller Corporation—the youngest head of the prestigious Miller family, Alexander Miller.

After the intense briefing, silence filled the car. Despite working under him for years, the assistant still felt the invisible pressure weighing down on him, making him fidget. He glanced out the window and noticed the thin figure of a young girl through the one-way glass.

The girl's clothes were too small, revealing her thin wrists and ankles. She held a white plastic bag filled with pens and notebooks, a sign of her passion for learning.

If this countryside girl had been born into the Miller family's world, she might have become a scholar in a civilized society...

Lost in thought, the car quickly passed the girl. When Claire arrived at the village entrance, the grocery store owner was locking up, her face full of displeasure.

"Hey, don't get too close. You might bring bad luck to my store and ruin my business," the owner sneered, grabbing a broom and shooing her away like an annoying fly.

Claire furrowed her brow. "You killed your mother and your grandmother, and now you're trying to steal from the James family's bank account. Aren't you afraid of divine retribution?"

Claire knew this was just a rumor spread after her family had been driven out of the village. Her reputation had already been tarnished, and now it was even worse.

She pursed her lips, unwilling to reveal her grandfather's situation to outsiders. But the shopkeeper assumed her guilt and noticed the items in her bag. "Oh, so many notebooks and pens! Did you steal them from someone's house? They're branded, too. My son said these branded pens are worth a lot of money. Be careful, or someone might paralyze you."

The shopkeeper's eyes gleamed with greed as she eyed Claire's belongings, eager to create a scene and claim one for her son. But Claire calmly responded, "These are all rewards I received from school."

What?

The woman's face twisted with astonishment. Why did this small girl have so many rewards while her own son had none? Jealousy boiled within her as she spat, "Hmm… go away! I'm not selling my groceries to someone with bad luck like you."

Claire wasn't surprised by this reaction. She laughed silently and said, "You won't sell to me even if I give you all these pens?"

The woman turned, glaring at Claire as if she had fallen from the sky. "Don't try to deceive me, young lady!"

As they argued, Alexander's car pulled over, not too close but not too far either. Seeing the woman arguing with the small girl, Alexander sent his assistant to go and help her.