Chapter 1
The night was drenched in a torrential downpour, the humidity so thick it was almost suffocating.
Zoey King folded her uniform neatly and stuffed it into her backpack, glancing up at the clock on the wall.
11:47 PM. She was the only one left in the morgue, as usual.
"Zoey, still here this late?" The security guard on duty shone his flashlight as he passed by.
"Just about to leave." She put on her mask, her fingers brushing against the scalpel in the hidden pocket, the cold touch bringing her a bit of comfort.
The back alley behind the morgue was her shortcut home.
Even though the streetlight had been out for half a month, it was quiet.
Zoey held a black umbrella, her sneakers making soft splashes in the puddles.
Suddenly, she stopped, turning her head towards a certain spot.
The faint scent of blood mixed with the rain was barely noticeable but unmistakable.
Logically, she should have turned around and taken another route.
But Zoey liked the quiet and was used to this path.
She lowered the umbrella to cover most of her face and continued forward.
The closer she got, the stronger the scent of blood became.
"Alexander Garcia, you think you're getting out of here alive tonight?" A rough male voice cut through the rain.
A flash of lightning illuminated the scene deep in the alley.
Seven men in black, armed with sharp weapons, surrounded a man leaning against the wall.
Despite being covered in blood, the man stood tall, like a drawn sword.
"Excuse me, can I pass through?" Zoey asked politely.
Her sudden voice made the leader of the men in black turn sharply, squinting at her. "Looking for trouble?"
Zoey lifted the edge of her umbrella slightly, revealing her small chin and tightly pressed lips. "Just passing through."
The leader stepped forward, his voice cold. "You think I'll believe that?"
They had cornered Alexander here to finish him off, knowing no one would take this path.
He waved his hand, and three men immediately surrounded Zoey.
Zoey frowned, growing impatient.
"Sweetheart, we'll make it quick for you..."
The man's words were cut off as he fell to the ground, stunned.
Zoey's umbrella snapped shut, the handle striking one man unconscious. "I said, just passing through."
Her voice was colder than the rain, tinged with clear irritation.
The three men surrounding her were shocked, instinctively stepping back, only to be scolded by their leader.
"What are you afraid of? Get her! She's just a girl!"
They needed to finish this quickly, without making too much noise, and definitely without letting Alexander escape back to the Garcia Villa.
In the chaos, Alexander glanced at Zoey.
He hadn't expected such explosive power from such a small body.
Whatever her reason for being here, she was helping him, and he needed to get back to the Garcia Villa alive.
That glance made Zoey pause for half a second.
Those eyes, she had seen them before.
When she was twelve, the orphanage had caught fire, and someone had pushed her out of a window through the smoke.
Her last memory was of those eyes, like the brightest star in the night.
It seemed her intuition was right.
She had initially planned to turn around and leave, remembering the unidentified body she had helped her teacher with last month, still lying in the morgue.
Her teacher had said it was gang-related and told her to stay away from such things in the future.
So when she smelled the blood, she had wanted to leave, but some inexplicable instinct made her take one step forward, then another.
Until she stood in front of Alexander.
"Watch out!" Alexander suddenly lunged, pulling her back to reality.
A machete struck his shoulder, sending a spray of blood.
The strong scent of blood gave Zoey a headache.
As the men in black raised their weapons to strike, she pulled Alexander behind her, her counterattacks becoming fierce.
The scalpel sliced through their wrists, and the butt of a gun she had taken smashed into their noses.
Alexander, back to back with her, used his combat skills to take down two men, but his vision grew increasingly blurry from his injuries.
The men in black attacked more ferociously, their moves deadly, but they were no match for Zoey.
They couldn't understand how this seemingly delicate girl could be so formidable.
Could she be Alexander's bodyguard?
"What are you standing around for? If they don't die, we will!" the leader of the men in black roared.
Hearing this, the remaining men hesitated for a moment, then charged in a rage.
Zoey moved swiftly, each strike of her scalpel precise and ruthless.
In less than a minute, all the men in black were on the ground, groaning, unable to get up.
She shook the rain off her umbrella, ready to step over the half-conscious Alexander and leave.
As she stepped over him, his bloodied hand suddenly grabbed her pant leg tightly.
"Let go," Zoey said coldly.
Alexander didn't let go, his voice hoarse. "...Take me with you."
Zoey looked down, meeting a pair of beautiful eyes, so familiar that she pursed her lips and frowned.
Alexander passed out completely before she could respond.
She sighed, finally, and crouched down to hoist Alexander over her shoulder, heading to her secret base.
There were no cameras in this alley; she could have just left him.
But those eyes were too familiar, and she instinctively picked him up.
She had worked hard to escape her past and couldn't afford to get involved with the police again.
Her secret base was in the basement, not far from the lab building.
It was where she dissected special bodies.
Zoey dumped Alexander on the dissection table, the harsh light revealing the gaping wound on his shoulder blade.
His blood-soaked clothes were in the way, so she had already torn them off when she brought him in.
She put on rubber gloves and selected the finest suture needle from the tray, administering anesthesia first.
As she began stitching, the needle piercing his flesh, Alexander's eyes snapped open, his hand clamping down on her wrist.
"Who sent you?" His voice was cold, his eyes filled with murderous intent.
Zoey was surprised the anesthesia hadn't worked on him.
She tried to pull away but couldn't, so she struck him in the stomach with her knee.
Alexander grunted, but his grip didn't loosen; instead, he pulled her closer, their faces inches apart.
He smirked, his breath heavy with pain. "You're pretty skilled. This isn't your first time, is it?"
Zoey narrowed her eyes, her other hand suddenly drawing a scalpel to his neck.
"Let go, or I'll be dissecting a corpse instead of stitching a wound."
Alexander stared into her eyes above the mask, finally releasing her so she could continue stitching.
"You hate killing, don't you? In the alley, you had the chance to kill them, but you only knocked them out."
Zoey didn't answer, the needle piercing his flesh again.
The anesthesia really didn't work on him; veins bulged on his forehead as he gritted his teeth.
Twenty-seven stitches, taking a full half-hour.
By the end, Alexander was drenched in sweat, as if he had been pulled from the water.
He tried to sit up, only for Zoey to chop the back of his neck, knocking him out again.
"You talk too much. It's annoying." Zoey stuffed him into a burlap sack, slung him over her shoulder, and dumped him on the street.
When Alexander woke up, he found himself back at the Garcia Villa.
"How did I get back here?"
The bodyguard answered nervously, "Mr. Garcia, we found you on Central Street, lying next to a trash can."
Only God knew how shocked they were to find Alexander by a trash can.
They thought it was an enemy's prank, but after a professional doctor examined him, they found his wound was perfectly stitched, with no other issues.
So they were even more curious but didn't dare ask.
Alexander pressed his sore neck.
"Find out everything about tonight. I want to know who those men were."
"And that woman, find out who she is and why she was in that alley."