The Queen Who Fights Back (by Lily Hastings) novel Chapter 190

**A Symphony of Shadows by Evelyn Hart**
**Chapter 190**

A colossal hand tore through the sanctuary, laying waste to everything it encountered…

It was akin to a devastating tornado, sweeping mercilessly across the landscape, uprooting fields and forests in its relentless path.

Inside the house, the lights flickered erratically, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls.

Her skin gleamed like fine porcelain, a striking contrast to the sun-kissed tones of those around her, making her appear almost ethereal in the dim light.

He felt a vague awareness settle over him, a realization that his emotions were being twisted and turned by the potent drug coursing through his veins.

With a sudden burst of frustration, he pressed a hand to his temple, shoving Yellowcat aside with a roughness that belied his inner turmoil.

“Get out!” he barked at her, his voice sharp and devoid of any softness.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, he forced himself to remain still, his body obeying his command with a rigidity that felt almost foreign.

Yellowcat was no naive girl; she had clawed her way up to the senior ranks of the Bloodblade Mercenary Corps, witnessing the darker, more sinister aspects of the world on numerous occasions.

In that fleeting moment, clarity washed over her.

Now she understood Nova’s warning about the dinner served at the training ground that evening.

They had laced the food with something dangerous.

It was painfully obvious he had consumed it.

And he certainly wasn’t alone—many others had likely fallen prey to the same fate.

But Yellowcat didn’t rush to escape; the thought of fleeing didn’t even cross her mind.

Instead, she propped her chin on her hand, her mind racing back through the events that had unfolded.

If every meal at the training ground had been tainted, then it wasn’t just him—chaos was likely already erupting outside.

Among mercenaries, women were a rare sight, often outnumbered by men to an astonishing degree.

From the registration numbers at the training ground earlier that day, it was evident that women constituted barely one percent of the entire group.

That translated to a mere ten women amidst a thousand mercenaries.

And now, with all these testosterone-fueled men under the drug’s influence, if any women were to be found…

They would be swarmed like prey by a pack of frenzied wolves.

Yellowcat’s mind raced as she considered the implications. Staying in Fierce Python’s room suddenly seemed a far safer option than braving the chaos outside.

Resolutely, she did not leave. In fact, she moved closer, crouching down behind him, resting her hands on her cheeks, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she gazed at his broad back.

“Hey, have you ever thought about joining our Blood Doll Corps?” she teased, her voice light and playful. “Our boss is incredibly strong—you’d be in good hands, trust me!”

Even in this tense moment, she couldn’t resist the urge to recruit him for Nova Blake.

“Why not join us? I’ll even give you the antidote,” she coaxed, her tone a blend of playful temptation and genuine interest.

What was this antidote, and how could one obtain it?

It was exactly what you might expect—a man and a woman, entwined in a dance of survival.

Women who had navigated the treacherous waters of the international underground were not as concerned about virtue as one might presume.

Yellowcat was certainly no exception.

Sometimes, female mercenaries would leverage their bodies to achieve their goals. It was simply part of the ruthless game they played.

Though Yellowcat remained untouched, she possessed a boldness that belied her innocent appearance.

He, however, ignored her completely.

His towering six-foot-two frame stood like an impenetrable fortress—if he chose to lean in, he could easily overwhelm her.

One woman, facing a hundred men.

Merely surviving the night would be a miracle.

Thus, the majority of women were doomed this evening.

A collective shiver of apprehension coursed through the group.

Sham, Eder, and the others huddled close to Nova.

Yellowcat had warned them not to eat dinner that night, relaying Nova’s orders. At the time, they had failed to grasp the gravity of her words.

But now, clarity dawned.

A cold wave of fear washed over them, sending chills down their spines.

Sham, Eder, and the others instinctively turned their gazes to Nova.

“She’s just the leader of a small mercenary corps—how the hell does she know the rules of this place?” one of them mused internally.

“And how did she know the dinner would be drugged? It’s almost as if… she’s been here before!”

“Boss… have you ever been to the International Mercenary Corps training ground?” Sham finally asked, unable to stifle his curiosity any longer.

His question was direct, devoid of any attempt to mask the doubt in his tone.

Nova, seated on the couch with her light machine gun in her left hand and the pistol in her right, lifted her gaze, casting him a sidelong glance.

As if recalling a distant memory, her eyes fell before she finally answered Sham in a soft, almost wistful tone, “Yes.”

She hadn’t merely visited—she had endured the experience, consuming the drugged dinner at the training ground alongside Ghost-Hammer, Falcony, Marlie, and Snowfang.

She had to remain sharp, no matter what, refusing to let the drug cloud her judgment.

That night, Nova had plunged a blade into her own thigh fifty-seven times, each thrust reopening the same wound, again and again. That was the steep price she paid for allowing her guard to slip.