Mirabe''s eyes swept over Santos'' actions, and a sly smile yed on her lips. "Seems like you didn''t do your homework on your opponent," she teased.


    Santos frowned, trying to decipher her words, but before he could, an intense, deadly vibe hit him. Instinctively, he shifted his body just in time.


    But not quite fast enough. A sharp, needle-like pain jabbed into his temple. His eyes narrowed as he pressed his hand against the spot, a mix of shock and pain flooding his system.


    He nced back to find a slender silver needle lodged in the old, weathered wall behind him. Lowering his hand, he noticed a smear of red on his fingertips, and a shiver ran down his spine.


    From that angle, with such force... If he hadn''t reacted quickly and been in disguise, it could have been much worse than a graze-it might have hit him square in the forehead.


    Santos quickly scanned the area below, but Mirabe was gone, vanished into thin air.


    His heart raced. He knew Mirabe was skilled, but he hadn''t expected her to be so unaffected, striking and then disappearing so effortlessly...


    Her resistance to danger seemed to have leveled up.


    Suddenly, a soft noise came from behind. Santos spun around, locking eyes with Mirabe. Her gaze was icy and unyielding.


    "Pulling the same trick again? Who do you think you''re underestimating?" she taunted, her eyes flicking to the knife in his hand. As she spoke, her fingers moved ever so slightly at her side.


    In an instant, Santos felt a tingling sensation in his palm, and the knife slipped from his grasp, ttering to the floor.


    His expression shifted, but he didn''t show panic. Instead, he let out a coldugh. "To handle you, this method will do just fine."


    As he spoke, gunmen emerged from the shadows, their weapons trained on Mirabe. Santos ignored the knife on the ground, pulling a small porcin bottle from his pocket. "I''m a man of principles," he saido casually. "Take this, and I''ll let these three go."


    He paused, letting the weight of his words


    have to take it. In Merrywoods, three lives are just a blip. Easy to Brush


    liken Stok in. "Of course, you


    off."


    Two more gunmen aimed their weapons at ze and the others, who were


    precariously dangling over the railing.


    Mirabe was backed into a corner.


    She nced at Santos and the ominous gun barrels, weighing her options for a few moments beforez responding, "Alright, let them down, and I''do what you say. Otherwise... you know my capabilities. Worst case, we all go down together."


    Her tone was casual, as if the stakes meant nothing to her.


    Santos knew better. He''d seen her fierce side before.


    After some thought, Santos nodded to one of his men. With a shared


    understanding, the man began pulling ze, Patrick, and the others up one by


    one.


    Once they were up, their ropes remained tied, but Mirabe didn''t press for their release. This was enough for her.


    At least it eased one worry.


    "If you try anything funny, they won''t make it," Santos warned, passing the porcin bottle to his associate to administer to Mirabe.