Fake heiress Real heroine

Chapter 1 Chapter 1 In the shadowy borderlands, a sleek sports car streaked across the dusty terrain, its engine roaring like a beast, with police cars hot on its trail, their sirens piercing the night.

The racrackled with urgency. "The car's carrying at least fifty kilos of drugs and a dozen kidnapped kids. Their parents. are wealthy, and these criminals not only demanded ransom but planned to sell the children afterward." "Filth!" The pursuing officer slammed his fist onto the steering wheel, flooring the gas pedal in a fury of determination.

But suddenly, a crowd of villagers emerged from the field's edge, forming a human barrier. No matter how loudly the officer honked, they moved with deliberate slowness, obstinately refusing to budge..

Ellis Watson, the young rookie officer, leapt out of the car, fury burning in his eyes, ready to confront the villagers. But Drake Phillips, the seasoned veteran, restrained him with a firm hand.

"No use," Drake said, his voice tinged with resignation. "These villagers have taken the criminals' bribes-they're acting as lookouts. You'll just get into a pointless spat." Ellis's eyes widened in disbelief. "But lives are at risk! How dare they?" Drake sighed, realizing they'd lost the chase, and began plotting a new route. "Why wouldn't they dare? Being a lookout pays more than years of farming. The law doesn't reach these remote places." Ellis pounded the steering wheel in frustration. Then he spotted a slender child among the villagers, perhaps only six or seven years old, standing with an eerie calm and composure.

In the end, the criminal's car slipped away into the night. That evening, each villager pocketed a share of the illicit gains, with Quinlyn receiving the largest portion.

Quinlyn Yates was ten, but malnutrition made her look much younger. As an orphan, she wouldn't have survived in the harsh borderlands without her wits and watchful eye. It was her quick thinking that had thwarted the police this time.

As Quinlyn ate dinner with the villagers, Floyd Crawford, their leader, approached with a sly grin. "Quinlyn, those big shots want to meet you. They're inviting you for drinks. Can you takealong?" Everyone wanted to ingratiate themselves with the criminals, but they had eyes only for Quinlyn.

Quinlyn glanced at Floyd, finished her soup in one gulp, picked up the money at her feet, and walked away without a word.

The villagers envied her money pouch but dared not take it, fearing the brutal consequences.

Inside a house at the edge of the remote town, a group of bandits prepared to leave the borderlands drinking and reveling.

After refilling their glasses, a henchman asked the boss, “Do you have a plan to bring Quinlyn with us? I heard several groups failed to take her." The scar-faced leader was unperturbed. "Just wait and see. Once we have her tied up and out of the borderlands, she'll have no choice but to work with us." As soon as he finished speaking, Quinlyn stepped inside alone. The burly men welcomed her warmly, treating her as an equal and offering her a drink.

"No thanks," Quinlyn said, pushing the glass aside. “You still have hostages. Drinking can lead to trouble. I'll keep watch for you." Chapter 1 The scar-faced leader, glassy-eyed and drunk, praised her. "Quinlyn, you're so reliable. Everyone says if they want to cross the borderlands safely, they have to find you. You're the best scout around.

"Others were unlucky and got caught later, but don't worry. With us, you'll be fine." While the leader boasted, Quinlyn slipped out the door, ignoring him.

In the backyard, she found a group of dirty kids huddled together. When they saw her, their faces turned to shock and fear, and sstarted crying immediately.

She scanned the children and chose a boy around fifteen or sixteen. She walked over, cut the tape binding him with a knife, and calmly said, "Run along the mountain path behind the house, and you'll reach the outpost." The boy stared at her in disbelief. "You're letting us go?" Quinlyn didn't respond. She quickly untied everyone, shushed them, and ordered them to run silently.

The boy, calm enough to help the younger kids, safely evacuated them. Once at the back of the house, he couldn't help but look back at Quinlyn, asking, "Aren't you coming with us?" Quinlyn secured the backyard and pried open a parked vehicle's door. This time, she finally responded, "You go ahead. I'll catch up." With that, she slipped into the car.

The boy wanted to warn her of the danger, but the situation was dire. He didn't dare delay any longer and led his companions down the dark mountain trail.

***** After watching the children running away, Quinlyn carried a jug of liquor back inside and placed it on the table. "For your farewell toast," she said.

The group, already in high spirits, popped the seal and savored the liquor's intense aroma, their eyes closed in bliss.

The scarred man boasted, "You're always so thoughtful, Quinlyn. Don't worry, when we get back, I'll bring you treats and fun things-you'll never want to leave!" The good liquor didn't deter them from dragging Quinlyn into their criminal world; it made them more determined.

Quinlyn handed them large glasses and stepped outside to sit on the doorstep, gazing at the moon.

She had lived in the remote town where violence was a daily occurrence since she could remember. Sometimes, she felt like even the moon was tainted by the darkness.

Ten minutes later, a loud bang echoed from inside. She rolled over and peered through the doorway to see the boss shooting wildly.

She had scattered pounds of pure cocaine into the jug, its potent magic beginning to weave its spell almost instantly.

The boss, who had greedily gulped down the most, was the first to succumb to the delusions. In the blink of an eye, a symphony of gunshots shattered the silence, claiming three lives in swift succession.

The remaining figures, their minds twisted by the cocaine's grasp, blindly reached for their weapons, unleashing chaos with trigger-happy abandon. Within moments, the once-lively room was a grim tableau of fallen bodies. Quinlyn re-entered the scene, her boots crunching against the blood-drenched floor as she made her way to the boss. Foam flecked his lips, yet he clung to life, his final gasps punctuated by the remnants of his hallucinations.

She paid his agony no heed, instead bending to pick up a gun, her curiosity piqued as- led as she inspected it.

Earlier that fateful day, she had thwarted the police in their pursuit of the criminals, well aware of the peril that lay in their armed Chapter 1 confrontation.

Even after venturing beyond the borderlands, she retained the means to summon the law kidney to dystice's aid.

aw But news of kidnapped children, one already lost to their ordeal, spurred her to preemptive action. She would rid the world of these scoundrels herself. In a fruitless search for a suitable weapon, Quinlyn's patience wore thin. With a sigh, she abandoned her quest, turning her attention to the bag of money instead.

As she departed through the backyard, a flicker caught her eye-a lighter arcing through the air to land e atop the roof. In the encroaching darkness, her silhouette vanished just as the farmhouse erupted in flames, a pyre for their sinister deeds. By the tthe police received word from the distant outpost, the rescued children had already reached out to their families, their parents pledging swift arrival.

"Thank goodness everyone is safe," the officer said, turning to the boy. "Did you lead them out? Tell me, how did you all manage to escape? Was there someone who helped you?" AD Comment mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLliI0fiflO&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLliIofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1