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Novel Catalog
Chapter 2: She Hid Deeply
“Tomorrow, at the community square, I’ll be offering acupuncture treatments to everyone,” Wynter announced in her calm, measured voice. “Make sure you brew the medication as instructed. And don’t stay up late watching dramas. The show will still be there tomorrow.”
The most popular show in the Harmony Community was a courtroom drama that had become an obsession for the elderly residents. Wynter’s words carried a note of gentle reproach, and as if in response to her reminder, they all nodded in agreement.
“We’ll go to bed by ten from now on,” one of them promised sheepishly.
In the past, it would have been unimaginable for these elderly figures—many of whom had accomplished great things and kept their identities under wraps—to heed such advice from someone like Wynter. But now, they listened obediently, as if she were more than just a neighbor.
Dom Fisher, the community’s director, had been eagerly waiting for the return of the so-called “genius doctor.” Upon seeing her, he let out a relieved sigh. “Dr. Genius, I’ve been keeping an eye on your house. No one got too close.”
“Thank you for your hard work,” Wynter said, offering him a basket of fresh fruits as a gesture of gratitude.
Dom smiled and accepted them eagerly. “It’s no trouble at all, Dr. Genius. You won’t be leaving again, will you?”
“No,” Wynter replied, her voice steady as she took the keys from him. “I won’t be leaving anymore.”
“Great!” Dom beamed. “In that case, please tidy up. I won’t disturb you any longer, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
With a final smile, he took his leave. Once he was gone, Wynter approached her front door and inserted the keys into the lock. The door was old, its surface worn from years of use, but it didn’t seem to be anything extraordinary. However, as she turned the first lock, a second, more advanced mechanism was revealed: an LCD keypad.
“Would you like to enable iris recognition?” the device asked, its screen glowing softly.
Wynter responded without hesitation. “Yes.”
“Iris recognition in progress. Please wait…”
A moment later, the device chimed: “Iris recognition completed. Welcome home, master.”
With a soft click, the heavy iron gate opened automatically, and the lights inside flickered to life.
The living room was bathed in warm light. Shelves that reached the ceiling were lined with medical books, and glass jars containing herbs were neatly arranged. Potted plants, most of them medicinal, dotted the space, each labeled meticulously. In the center of the room sat an unusual sight—a BMW Tomahawk motorcycle, now discontinued and rarely seen outside of collector’s circles.
Wynter made her way to the kitchen, opening the fridge to take a bottle of mineral water. She was about to take a sip when her phone, charging on the table, rang with a unique, attention-grabbing ringtone.
“Quinnell the Rich, wake up and take cases! Quinnell the Rich, wake up and take cases!”
The voice blared from the speaker, its familiar melody persistent as the phone rang a second time, and then a third.
Wynter picked up the phone with a single tap. “Speak.”
“Boss, there’s a big case in Southdale. Are you interested?”
Wynter took a sip of her water, her voice casual. “What kind of case?”
“The richest man in Kingbourne is searching for his missing granddaughter. He says she’s in Southdale, easy to find. Just some simple work, and you’ll earn a lot of money.”
Wynter yawned lazily. “Not interested.”
“Wait! Boss, wait! There’s something else you’ll like!” The voice on the other end became more urgent. “It’s another big case!”
Wynter propped her chin up with one hand, now slightly intrigued. “Go on.”
“The Yarwood family from Sorzada City is looking for you. They’ve offered a ten-million-dollar consultation fee. If someone provides information that leads to you, there’s an additional reward. It’s a lot of money!”
Wynter didn’t bother with small talk. “That sincere?” she asked, her fingers lightly tapping the screen. “Send me the information. I’ll take a look.”
“Alright!” the voice responded enthusiastically.
In the next instant, the floor-to-ceiling windows turned into a projection screen, displaying the information in vivid detail.
The Yarwood family was an ancient lineage, known for their long-standing history of service to the country. Wynter recalled their name, remembering how they used to reside in the Homeland Security Estate. The family had a reputation that preceded them, and their wealth and influence were undeniable.
The Yarwoods had invited a number of renowned doctors for a one-week consultation at the Caesar Hotel, in the hopes of finding someone capable of curing Dalton Yarwood, the family head. The brief description of his condition only mentioned that Dalton had been frail for many years, though the specifics were not to be disclosed publicly.
Wynter stretched, her eyes narrowing in thought. It didn’t seem as simple as it appeared.
“I’ll take this case,” she said, her voice calm and decisive.
