Had Bai Ming seen this scene somewhere before?

A little boy of five or six stood resolutely before his mother, tilting his head up at the towering men before him. Not a trace of fear flickered in his eyes.

He hadn’t thought anything through. He simply stood there. He didn’t grasp the danger, didn’t know what would happen next—he’d just acted on instinct, placing himself between his mother and the threat.

The strongest reason… was probably anger.

Anger burned hot but brief. Given time to cool, a calm mind could make the right choice. That was Bai Ming’s best explanation for what he witnessed.

But the child—the little boy—had no such thoughts. No, he had no intention of reconsidering his reckless act.

"Stay away from my mom! Monsters!"

His childish voice rang out, shouting fiercely at the so-called "monsters" before him.

So innocent… it almost made you want to laugh.

In that vast space, countless grown adults crouched silently where they stood, waiting for events to unfold. None dared move. None dared speak. They weren’t naive. Unlike the boy, they hadn’t instinctively risen to shield their mothers with their small, fragile bodies.

"Yuta—"

Before the boy could finish, a woman behind him yanked him behind her back, clutching him tightly as if he might vanish the moment she loosened her grip.

Instinctive maternal protection…

"Huh?"

The bearded man handed his megaphone to another masked figure. Whistling softly, he drew a revolver from his waistband and strode toward the mother and child.

"Kid, I like your guts," he taunted, thumb cocking the hammer with a metallic *click*.

Smiling, he raised his arm, the gun barrel leveled at the boy’s head.

"No… please! Don’t!"

Just as before—pure, instinctive maternal protection. Seeing the loaded gun aimed at her son, the mother spun her back to the bearded man, crushing the boy beneath her body.

She knew what came next. No parent would watch their child suffer. Even now, she prayed he’d live on after her.

Normally, she’d never have found such courage. But in this fleeting moment, that surge of bravery made her motherhood shine brilliantly.

"Hey now, lady, don’t make us the villains," the bearded man chided. "Your kid started this. My buddies and I? We’re in a real bad mood today. So… how d’you wanna fix this?"

"Spare… spare my child…"

"Ah. Still don’t get it, huh?"

His lips curled upward. Eyes wide, his finger tightened on the trigger.

To him, a life was worth no more than a trigger pull. Some said violence solved nothing. True—it couldn’t solve *everything*. But for the bearded man, solving *this* was enough.

"Mom? Why are you crying? Let me just—"

Crushed in her embrace, the boy saw his mother’s eyes swollen red. He’d never seen her cry before. Not like this… not when nothing had even happened yet…

Yes, he was naive. Having never experienced true peril, he understood nothing.

Not even that he was about to die.

"Don’t speak anymore, Yuta… just stay quiet in my arms…"

Despair had already seeped into the woman’s bones. She knew these hostage-takers—ruthless, merciless. Cross them, and ruin followed.

She didn’t blame her child. He’d been so brave. So fiercely protective. Even if his words brought doom, she’d never lay that fault at his feet.

Until the very end, she only scolded him gently, holding him close, feeling his warmth, listening to his heartbeat.

"Hmph. Teach your kid some manners in the next life, lady."

With a long sigh, the bearded man pulled the trigger.

*Clang!*

A blinding streak of white light slashed through the air. The bullet meant for the mother’s head split cleanly in half, clattering to the floor.

In the same instant, a black-haired girl with fox ears and a tail descended from above, landing squarely before the crowd.