Brielle took a deep breath, unable to make any more promises. She was up against the Dorsey family, and with her current capabilities, challenging them was akin to a lamb taking on a lion.

"I'll do my best to investigate," she said.

James managed a smile, but the injury on his face pulled at his muscles, causing him pain.

"They're playing tag team on me. I can't beat them all, but I'm sure I won't suffer too much. I'll wait for you to get me out of here."

A pang of discomfort hit Brielle in the chest. She nodded silently and stepped away from the police station.

Outside, she saw about a dozen motorcycles parked nearby, with a group of rough-looking guys boldly waiting by the police station entrance.

As Brielle emerged, they quickly surrounded her.

"Hey, you're James' little sister. How's he doing? Those damn cops, did they give him any trouble?"

"Damn it! I'm about to storm that precinct right now!"

"Girl, come on, talk to us. How's he? Did he suffer in there?"

Brielle opened her mouth but found herself at a loss for words, encircled by a group of twenty-something-year-old guys. Any woman coming face-to-face with such a scene would be terrified.

the people society looked down upon, the ones

unclear. I need to

educated bunch, but you've got to

because you were a girl. But James has been looking for you all this time." "Right, we all knew James had been searching for his sister for years. So when we saw the news

echoed

here?! Are you harassing this girl? We'll lock you all

making a

their bikes, not

crumpled note in her hand, with a number scrawled on it in almost childlike

any news about James, let us know. We all work

the motorcycles

in hand, approached

bittersweet taste in her

about you and the Fox family. They're no good. And yet here

en

knowing

judged by their appearances, which

worst devils always wore the kindest masks, and those deemed the dregs by the successful

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