Dark clouds hovered over the city.

Cold raindrops fell when the funeral of the Dillard couple came to an end. Only a few people were yet to come and offer libations.

Quite a few flowers were placed in front of the tombstones.

A drenched Janice Dillard stood there. The fists of the eight-year-old girl clenched. Her tears streamed down with the cold rain.

"This is so sad. The shipwrecks in the river were salvaged for seven days and seven nights."

"People say that she was born a jinx, but the Dillard couple wouldn't believe it."

"No one left in her family? Who will take care of her?"

"An orphanage. They are so unlucky to take in such a jinx."

People, who came to offer their condolences, sighed over the disaster.

The rain beat against the thin girl while coldness bit every part of her body.

Janice's innocent eyes turned colder and colder.

Her parents left her alone in this world.

She was not going anywhere. She would not go to an orphanage.

The shipwreck was not an accident. They were murdered.

"Would you like to follow me? I'll take you back." The deep, pleasant voice of a man came over.

He was one of the last mourners. A well-ironed gunmetal German uniform was on his body.

The well-cut military uniform set off his statuesque build.

A lieutenant next to him was holding a big black umbrella. Behind the man stood many adjutants, which added more depression and coldness to the solemn cemetery.

The girl's broken heart lurched, and she raised her head.

In the rain curtain, his cloak fluttered.

Below his long legs were a pair of military boots that trod the muddy water in the suburban cemetery.

He looked dignified.

Janice asked uncertainly, "Really?"

"Come."

The man offered his right hand. There was a terrible scar on his wrist.

She stared at his hand.

Her heart lurched lightly.

It was true…

Someone wanted her.

It was not a dream!

Didn't people call her a jinx?

Why wasn't this man afraid of her?

She summoned up every bit of her courage before holding that fair, slender hand.

His palm had a thin callus and felt warm.

Janice's heart and every cell of her body had been cold.

But at that moment, she felt warm.

The next second…

The petite girl was picked up. Like a king, the man announced, "Starting today, she belongs to the Marshal's House."

Eight years later.

In a secret room of the school's library…

Janice typed fast on a telegraph transmitter.

Sunset: No way! Nightfall, you mobilized the resources of the chamber of commerce?

Nightfall: Yes.

Sunset: Aren't you afraid of exposing your identity in the chamber?

Nightfall: I don't think so cuz I used pigeons from the restaurant.

From the other end of the transmitter, the corner of Sunset's mouth twitched.

Nightfall was so creative that she used common pigeons to deliver messages, but how?

How did she train them?

Edible pigeons were too fat to fly.

Sunset: Better safe and sorry. The others might not know, but I know how much you put in the Nine Continents Chamber of Commerce.

Nightfall: The intelligence obtained by the spies is crucial to Mr. Hahn, so I'd risk my life to help.

Sunset: Nightfall, you are always so capricious. I… have nothing to say.

Nightfall: Alright, I'm going to class, keep in touch.

Janice stood up and peeped through the special material of a painting.

After confirming that no one was passing by the bookshelf, the petite girl snuck out of the secret room.