Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 597

"Ding—"

Cyril strode out of the elevator.

Lennox Raynor had been waiting for a long time. Hearing the noise, he immediately stepped forward.

"Sir."

Cyril's expression was indifferent. "To The Central Police Directorate."

Lennox raised a hand, blocking Cyril's path, his sharp eyes fixed on the black sedan parked in the VIP spot.

Cyril immediately sensed something and paused, following Lennox's gaze.

"Boom—"

With a deafening explosion, the windows of the black sedan shattered. The vehicle burst into flames, and within a minute, the fire engulfed the entire car. The scorching heat chased away the bitter winter chill, as thick black smoke billowed upward, distorting everything in sight.

"Sir." Lennox looked at Cyril with visible concern. "We've already called the authorities. The smoke is too heavy here, we shouldn't linger."

As the manager of Blackbriar Wing, personally appointed by Caspian Ravenshire, researching his young master's taboos was a basic requirement. He vividly remembered one specific rule: keep him away from open flames. Though he didn't know the exact reason, the order was absolute.

Cyril stood completely still, staring at the roaring fire. The gentle warmth in his eyes slowly sank into a freezing abyss.

*

It was a quiet weekend at The Administration Building of The Central Police Directorate, with only a few public officials on duty. The door to the Chief's office was slightly ajar, harsh bursts of laughter spilling out into the hallway.

A junior officer on duty kept his head down and scurried past, terrified of getting caught in the crossfire.

Footsteps echoed up the stairs. Someone rounded the corner, and the young officer nearly crashed right into him. Lennox had lightning-fast reflexes, grabbing the officer's shoulders and forcefully shoving him three steps back.

"W-who are you people?"

The young officer hadn't been on the job long. Seeing Lennox's terrifying, murderous aura, his face turned deathly pale.

At that moment, the laughter from the office grew even more arrogant.

"Do you think that little rich kid pissed his pants on the spot?"

"Hahaha! I heard the little brat got so scared he called the cops! Does he really think anyone in Merriton City would dare to help him?"

"Called the cops? He might as well have called the boss directly. Would've saved him the paperwork, hahahaha..."

The young officer was sweating bullets, keeping his head down and too terrified to utter a word.

Cyril patted him gently on the shoulder. "Your shift is over."

"Huh?" The officer blinked, too stunned to process the words.

Cyril gave him a mild smile and calmly walked past him.

When the young officer finally looked up, he realized that the entire hallway—and the entire floor—was packed with a swarm of men in black suits.

"..."

Inside the office.

A group of sleazy, middle-aged men were puffing on cigars, laughing raucously. Vincent Montclair, sporting a massive beer belly, sat with his legs crossed, shaking his foot in smug triumph.

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