Julius, thinking about his date the next night, woke up early the next day to start cleaning himself. He almost scrubbed his skin off, leaving himself smelling fresh and enticing, attracting the attention of everyone he passed, making even Scorpion glance his way.
On the other end, Arabella slept soundly through the night. As the first rays of sunlight touched the ground, she awoke in a corner of the bathroom. The morning light flickered briefly in the depths of her dark eyes, like a wild beast that had lain in wait all night, now ready to wreak havoc upon the world.
The hotel she was staying at was a foreign-friendly establishment in Jingle, used to host foreign entrants. Therefore, the staff here were foreign men who had long-term residency rights in Jingle. Early in the morning, the young man at the front desk saw Arabella preparing to go out alone and kindly reminded her, "Miss, the customs here in Jingle are quite special. Going out alone might not be a good experience for you."
Arabella glanced back, the morning breeze brushing past her. Her gaze moved with the wind, and then she flashed a smile at the young man at the front desk, her lips curving in a way that accentuated the delicate, clear lines of her smile.
"Thank you for the reminder. I went for a walk yesterday afternoon and felt perfectly fine."
The young man at the front desk was stunned. Since he hadn't been on shift yesterday, he didn't know that such a brave woman dared to walk alone in Jingle. At this moment, all he could do was stare in awe as he watched the graceful figure of the brave woman walk away.
Arabella walked into the streets under the blazing sun. She first stopped at a street stall and bought a beef cake. She only ate meat, never vegetables, and ate without restraint, yet still couldn't satisfy her insatiable appetite. After finishing her breakfast, she popped an ice lolly in her mouth and walked leisurely down the street.
Though it was early morning, the streets of Jingle were not yet crowded, but the malicious glances directed at Arabella were unmistakable. On a workday morning like this, the rush hour for office workers was fast approaching. Unlike the shopping mall the afternoon before, which welcomed all kinds of visitors with an open mind, this ordinary street in Jingle was filled with men going about their routine lives.
When they suddenly saw a woman boldly walking down the street, eating and drinking as she pleased, it was a stark contrast—an affront that challenged their sense of authority.
"Hey, get out of the way, don't you know the rules? What's a woman like you doing walking around?" A middle-aged man in a suit and tie, his face twisted with disdain, sidestepped and spat out the words.
Arabella heard him and smiled, raising a finger to gesture at herself, she asked, "Why can't I walk here?"
In fact, the laws of Jingle clearly stated that foreign women were not bound by local customs, and were allowed to engage in social activities just as men did. However, for decades, few foreign women had dared to visit, and even fewer came with any sort of presence. Those who did were as inconspicuous as dust. A young woman like her, so bold and unrepentant, was indeed a rare sight, one that could only appear once in a hundred years.
The middle-aged man knew he was in the wrong, but still couldn't stop himself from insulting her, "In our country, women are not worthy to stand, they can only kneel. You, a foreign woman, should know your place. How dare you walk the streets? Get out of the way."
"Exactly. Even slut dare to be so arrogant these days."
"What's wrong with this country? What's the point of letting a useless woman enter through normal diplomatic channels?"
"Well, maybe she's here to act like a bitch herself."
"Then why did she come out in the day? At night, she should obediently crawl into our homes and beg for fxxck. Hahaha—"
A group of men burst into laughter. Living in such a bizarre and terrifying country like Jingle, they had long since lost any normal sense of gender roles. Although they couldn't physically harm foreign women in broad daylight due to the law, their verbal insults never ceased.
Arabella walked steadily through the sea of jeers, an ice pop between her lips. Her pale skin stood out strikingly in Jingle, a high-tropical country, making her even more conspicuous amidst a crowd of men. Her fair face accentuated her bright eyes, and the morning light filtered in, mingling with the misty moisture of dawn, creating an eerie sharpness in her gaze. When she smiled and glanced back at the men, her eyelashes formed a subtle shadow of cruel intent.
As she walked, the men around her muttered various insults, but most of them hurried on, focused on their busy lives. Arabella walked against the flow of people, and gradually, fewer and fewer people passed by. She was heading out of the main commercial district.
The streets of each town in Jingle are arranged in concentric circles: the innermost circle is the commercial district, the middle circle is the residential area, and the outer circle consists of scattered agricultural areas, small factories, or the production zones of family-run military craftsmanship. Arabella's destination was the outer circle, where she sought the renowned but highly secretive military manufacturer.
The advanced weapon blueprints that Ferdinand had received were created by that person.
However, the creator of the weapon blueprints never signed his name or sold them. It seemed to be purely a personal hobby, and after creating the intricate designs, he simply locked them away. If it weren't for the fortunate accident of a hidden painting falling into the wrong hands, those advanced and refined blueprints would have never seen the light of day.
Another letter of allegiance sent by Nicholas contained information about this mysterious figure. The location where the lost paintings appeared was in the production zone of Jingle's capital. However, due to the objects changing hands several times, the true owner of the weapon blueprints remained uncertain, and Arabella had to personally investigate and confirm it.
After finishing her ice pop, Arabella thought about the local delicacy in Jingle's streets—a type of soft, delicious cake made from dairy products. The scent wafted even before it was baked, making one's mouth water. Arabella wanted to buy some, but unfortunately, it was not available.
This area was different from the commercial square yesterday, and not like the shops around the foreigner-friendly hotels. In the production zone, the local culture was extremely traditional. The men there were taught generations of craftsmanship, and along with it, generations of the belief in male superiority. Seeing such an unusual and despised lower creature like Arabella intrude, they restrained themselves from openly attacking her, but of course, they wouldn't sell anything to her. Even if she called the police, they would just stand by, indifferent.
Arabella stood by the vendor, the steam from the uncovered pot obscuring her face and body. Since the vendor refused to sell to her, she leaned forward slightly, speaking in a soft whisper, "What a pity, I can't get any."
As the vendor of the cakes busied himself, he glanced sideways at the woman standing nearby. For a moment, through the misty haze, he could have sworn he saw the ghastly image of a skull, its white bones glaring at him with menace. But upon a closer look through the fog, it was only a smooth, pale face adorned with a smile. Her presence by the stall seemed to darken the air, like a beast lurking near the food, making the whole scene feel cursed. Without hesitation, he waved his hand and barked angrily, "Get lost. Bitch, there's no place for your kind to eat here."
Arabella silently left. Before she even rounded the street corner, she saw a fellow like-minded person eyeing the fresh sponge cake that the stall owner was about to take out, and from the looks of it, he was clearly planning to snatch it.
He was a boy who appeared to be a beggar. The reason he seemed like one was that although his clothes were ragged and he was filthy, with unkempt hair, his exposed skin was surprisingly fair. It's known that Jingle has a large temperature variation, with extremes of heat and cold throughout the year. Because of this, the men of Jingle are usually tall and have darker skin. Even young men tend to look quite mature, radiating a strong masculine vibe. It was rare to see such a pale, skinny boy.
Arabella noticed his eyes were glued to the cake, so she smiled and asked, "Don't have the money to buy it?"
The boy's mind was entirely focused on the cakes around the corner. Suddenly, someone blocked his path. Without lifting his head or even glancing up, he muttered absently, "No need to talk nonsense, can't you see?"
"Then it's simple. I have the money but no right to buy it, and you have no money but the right to buy it. How about I give you money, and after you buy it, we'll split it in half?"
This time, the boy pulled his gaze from the sponge cake and finally looked at the smiling woman blocking his way. She was young, with a slender figure, and an unremarkable face. The boy blushed. He had never spoken directly to a woman like this before. Local women were usually on their knees, bowing their heads, and as a beggar, no one ever paid him attention.
The scent of the cake was too tempting, and eventually, the two of them quickly struck a deal. They bought the cake and tucked themselves into a dead-end alley, sitting down to share it—one bite after another, eating five or six large pieces in perfect unspoken harmony.
"You—you're quite—quite the eater," the boy said, his mouth full, struggling to speak clearly.
Arabella chuckled with a low, amused sound. She reached out and lightly patted the boy's back, complimenting him, "You can eat too. How about we continue our partnership and eat some more?"
The boy was eager to continue eating. After finishing a few more bites, he looked at the woman beside him with burning eyes and said, "Hey, foreign woman, did you get separated from your companion? Since you bought the food for me, I'll warn you—being a woman in Jingle is dangerous, even for foreign women."
Arabella indulged her craving, stretching her limbs lazily as she sprawled in the filthy alley. The light was dim, barely enough to make out her eyes, which remained calm and composed, her brows unruffled as if untouched by the grime surrounding her.
