The driver subtly mirrored her partner's movements. A soft chime rang in their ears—the kind of tone only the operators could hear through their encrypted headsets, directly linked to the intelligence network managed by Athena.

As for the ongoing debate—whether Athena was an AI or simply a person using an AI-styled voice to communicate with Spirit Fox—neither of the two operators cared. The entity had been helping them without fail. That was enough. Any suspicions, if warranted, were for Ling Qingyu to handle as their leader.

Still, the message that came through sent a chill down both their spines. The operators stiffened for only a moment. They didn't even need to look at each other to coordinate—instinct and experience had already pinged a plan into motion.

Although both had flipped their visors up earlier—since it wasn't an active engagement and keeping the face shield down was impractical for normal interaction—they still had their headsets on to receive real-time updates. In fact, dropping the visor would activate an internal HUD that streamed tactical data directly into view.

And so, without making a scene, they lowered their visors. Information flowed across the transparent screen.

"Warning. Probable dangerous individual. Voice, physical frame, and facial data match approximately 70%. Exercise caution." Athena's mechanical tone cut through the air in their earpieces.

Even if the confirmation was only partial, it didn't hurt to heed the warning.

The copilot operator opened her door and stepped out casually.

"Ma'am, are you riding alone?" she asked the biker.

"Yeah. If not, I wouldn't be getting harassed like some street-side mannequin," the biker sighed, briefly averting her gaze. Her eyes narrowed, like something had finally clicked in her mind.

"Right? It used to be worse," the operator agreed, walking up beside her with measured ease.

Inside the vehicle, the driver's hand subtly gripped the door lever. Her other hand was already resting on her thigh—holding a Glock 17 that had long been unholstered the moment her partner stepped out.

On her visor's screen, a classified file began unfolding. She read quickly while maintaining a calm posture.

Even so, uncertainty lingered. They couldn't risk reckless action unless they confirmed the target's identity. The standard rules of engagement and their own internal doctrine forbade it.

For all they knew, this biker might just be an ordinary woman on a late-night ride, who just happened to match with dangerous personnel list.

Shooting a potential civilian based on unconfirmed intel was not only unlawful—it was against their core operating procedures.

Still, there was reason to be cautious. If the suspicion Athena flagged proved correct, this person could be connected to something far larger—a false alarm, or a spark in the powder keg that was Province N. The former should be the most preferred case.

The best course was to dig deeper and ensure no threat lurked beneath the surface.

"Indeed, it's thanks to you guys, who quelled the chaos. Otherwise, I wouldn't be out here," said the biker girl. "Is there any reason, for the…officer to come out, by the way?"

"Well, that depends," the operator said, aware that the biker had already caught on to their subtle shifts. "Can you show me your ID card?"

"I mean... what exactly did I do? What's the probable cause?"

"Miss, you should know we're not here to bury you in protocol. It's just an ID check—to keep things simple for everyone."

"But that would be a blatant violation of my rights."

"I'm afraid someone who truly felt grateful wouldn't be so hesitant to cooperate," the operator replied, voice calm but firm.

Meanwhile, five kilometers away from the incident, a trio of Spirit Fox operators were patrolling on foot.

Two of them exchanged helpless glances toward their teammate up front.

The girl had been tailing a man walking a dozen meters ahead, too concerned for his safety to keep proper distance.

But the two couldn't exactly blame her. The man was blind, navigating his path with a white cane. Judging by his steady pace and confident steps, he likely had a phone connected to a Bluetooth device feeding him GPS data in real time.

Still, the discomfort of shadowing a blind civilian was hard to ignore. It wasn't just awkward—it was emotionally taxing. None of them had ever seen a blind man stroll the streets alone like this before.

But perhaps that was the point.

With the province's security steadily improving, it might not be long before more people with disabilities could enjoy the simple pleasure of walking outside unafraid.

It hadn't always been this way. Not long ago, the streets belonged to gangs, thugs, and opportunistic criminals. Disabled people were among the easiest prey.

Most had either fled the province or confined themselves indoors. But no one—introverted or not—could stay locked away forever. Eventually, the pressure would mount. People needed fresh air. Freedom.

Now, thanks to the sweeping reforms brought by Spirit Fox, those fears were slowly dissolving.

Of course, not all problems disappeared overnight. The blind man still had to worry about inconsiderate civilians—people who parked on sidewalks or dumped objects across the guiding strips embedded in the pavement.

Many residents didn't realize that the patterns and grooves etched into sidewalks served specific functions. The long, straight ridges, for instance, gave blind pedestrians directional guidance through tactile feedback from their canes.

While Province N was on the rise, most advanced accommodations still remained limited to City N, the provincial capital. Rural and outskirt regions had to catch up gradually.

Still, it was already a huge win that random potholes and sudden sinkholes weren't springing up anymore to ruin lives—something that used to happen regularly before Ling Qingyu's intervention.

Her billion-dollar investments weren't just about optics or political sway. Roads were being built, sidewalks restructured, public spaces secured.

It was all part of a bigger goal: to connect villages, towns, and cities seamlessly. To raise the standard of living while simultaneously boosting economic flow.

After all, all businesses thrive on consumption. And to drive consumption, one must empower the people first. That was the essence of a virtuous economic cycle.

If things continued this way, Ling Qingyu would likely earn back two, maybe three times her initial investment in the coming years—alongside the growing reputation she needed to solidify her role in the region's future.

Technically speaking, Ling Qingyu had already established her roots and earned a measure of prestige among the elite circles of Province N.

Her connection with Gu Yi—while officially unacknowledged—could be uncovered with only a modest level of scrutiny. Still, there was a world of difference between being someone's pawn and being a true player on the chessboard.

Ling Qingyu understood that distinction well. To cement her place as a force in her own right, she needed tangible merit. No one currently regarded her as a mere lackey, but as her status evolved beyond that of an ordinary businesswoman, taking deliberate steps to prove her independence became essential.

Back on patrol, the trio of Spirit Fox operators kept close behind a blind man making his way down the sidewalk. The woman up front—clearly more invested—shadowed him with quiet care. Subtle, but obvious to her teammates.

If a scooter or e-bike came barreling toward his path, she raised her hand or signaled them to yield. Most road users were understanding and didn't need much prompting, helping out without a word.

"Sis… don't tell me you're falling for this guy?" one of the girls behind teased with a sly grin.

The lead operator flushed. "No! I'm just… making sure he doesn't get into trouble. You know, some punk might try to take advantage."

"Uh-huh. Not because he's handsome or anything," the other one teased, laughing.

"Well, I mean… he is. But that's not the point!"

"Ohhh…" They didn't push further. What was wrong with wanting to protect someone you happened to fancy?

Even if the chances of something blooming were slim to none, it was still satisfying in a way—emotionally, maybe even a bit vain. Quietly, the girl in question was already thinking of submitting some suggestions to Ling Qingyu, advocating for more infrastructure and policies to support people with disabilities in the province's next development phase.

Unbeknownst to them, passersby had noticed. The public appreciated their attentiveness—at least, inwardly. Quiet praise lingered among those watching.

Soon, the blind man reached a crosswalk. There were proper traffic lights equipped with auditory cues for the visually impaired, but that didn't ease her worry.

Her partners started ribbing her again, half playfully and half nervously. After all, there was always a faint concern: What if she got swept away—emotionally or even literally—by someone outside Ling Qingyu's inner circle?

Ling Qingyu projected warmth and generosity on the surface, but her reputation included rumors of ruthlessness beneath. Even if it was unlikely she'd act against her own people, those whispers had planted lingering doubt.

But sometimes, people simply overthought.

Suddenly, tires screeched nearby.

The sound ripped through the night, cutting through streetlights and car beams that muddled visibility. For a few seconds, no one could quite make out what was happening.

Then—a car burst out of its lane, swerving into the opposite side of the road, accelerating rather than slowing.

It was barreling straight toward the crosswalk.

Some pedestrians scattered instinctively. Others froze, watching as if it were a show. Some even pulled out phones—popcorn not in hand, but definitely in spirit.

And even though this wasn't officially within their jurisdiction, the Spirit Fox team didn't hesitate.

The lead operator stepped forward, arm stretched out in a firm stop signal. Her eyes locked on the blind man, still mid-stride across the zebra crossing.