Miranda's apartment.
A red figure sat on the sofa, studying Miranda with great interest.
Miranda immediately reached for the sword hanging on the wall.
With a sword in hand, her confidence surged.
She was an Olympic fencing champion!
Only then did she focus on the red figure on the sofa, and her heart turned cold.
The other person wore a red hoodie and a mask, looking thoroughly sinister.
"Who are you?"
"Are you really good enough to be a fencing champion? I don't believe it!"
The red-clad masked figure spoke in an unfamiliar female voice and rose to walk toward her.
"A defeated opponent thinks she can show off in front of me?"
Hearing that it was a woman, and hearing those words, Miranda assumed she was some sore loser she had beaten before and sneered disdainfully.
Even so, Miranda had no intention of taking the other fencing sword from the wall and giving her a fair fight.
Miranda was not that rigid.
If the other woman had a fencing sword while she had a gun—
Then this newly crowned Olympic gold medalist in fencing would still point the gun at her and say, "Different circumstances, idiot!"
"Don't come any closer..."
As Miranda warned the approaching masked woman in red, the sword in her hand had already thrust forward.
The strike was precise and vicious, clearly aimed at disabling one of the woman's arms first.
With a flash, the masked woman in red appeared beside Miranda, a syringe already pressed into Miranda's neck.
"I told you..."
The masked woman in red chuckled as she caught the unconscious Miranda and the fencing sword that was about to fall.
Her petite body hoisted the long-legged, unconscious Miranda over one shoulder. With a casual toss, she threw the fencing sword back onto the