Arnold Simmons calmly said, "Not only do I know, Gregory Lawrence knows too."

Suddenly, Gregory Lawrence felt like he was kept in the dark. "If you know, why aren’t you running?"

"If they had wanted to make a move, they would have started fighting the moment we met," Arnold Simmons explained.

Gregory Lawrence thought about it carefully, and it seemed to make sense.

"Moreover, the most important thing is that those people recognize Hannah and call her ’boss.’"

"Is that really true?"

Gregory Lawrence frowned, unable to remember.

It was probably the alcohol. His head ached.

He squatted down on the ground, beginning to sort out his thoughts.

The wanderers and their boss.

And Hannah?

How are these two connected?

"No, wait, wasn’t the boss of the wanderers captured by the royal family? What does it have to do with Hannah? No, no, if Hannah is their boss, then that would mean..."

A flash of insight crossed his mind.

He understood everything.

Gregory Lawrence abruptly stood up, "So Hannah is..."

He hadn’t finished his sentence when a pain struck his neck, as if someone had hit him hard with a stick, and his body instantly weakened.

Hannah helped him lean against a rock, gestured for him to be silent, and whispered with a smile, "Sleep now."

"You..." Gregory Lawrence moved his mouth, but his vision was already blurring, and he slowly closed his eyes.

"He’s just asleep," Hannah explained to Arnold Simmons, tossing a thin blanket over Gregory Lawrence.

It gets cold at night, and wearing too little could cause a chill.

Arnold Simmons’s face remained calm, but his blue eyes fluctuated slightly while looking at Hannah, "Did Arnold Simmons know you were going to do this?"

Hannah stood up, turned around, her face still wearing a beautiful smile that matched well with the starlight.

Innocent, yet deceptive.

She said, "Arnold Simmons is already asleep."

Arnold Simmons glanced at where Arnold Simmons was lying.

If he had been awake, he couldn’t have missed the commotion.

"So, is it my turn now?"

Hannah nodded slightly and said with a smile, "Theoretically, yes."

"What exactly do you want to do?"

Arnold Simmons couldn’t understand.

"To hide your identity?"

That was the most plausible reason he could think of.

But there was still something that didn’t quite add up.

Hannah had no need to hide from Arnold Simmons.

Judging from their usual interactions, Hannah wouldn’t have been just pretending.

"I don’t need to hide my identity, nor have I ever thought about deceiving you," Hannah said.

She looked up at the twinkling stars in the night sky and took a step back to sit on a large boulder.

The flat rock was slightly elevated, and when Hannah sat, she was nearly at the same height as Arnold Simmons.

Arnold Simmons stepped forward, standing two steps away from Hannah, "You knocked them out to go to the Lost Realm on your own, right?"

It was still just a guess.

Arnold Simmons stared intently into Hannah’s eyes, as if seeking answers.

But her eyes were too pure, so pure that nobody could associate her with the bloodstained leader of the wanderers.

"I am not a good person," Hannah said with her hands on the cold stone surface, her gaze somewhat vacant, "but I also don’t want others to die with me, you’ve come far enough with me."

She looked up, her lips forming a smile.

Yet Arnold Simmons inexplicably felt a heaviness in his chest, "If you are going to the Lost Realm, I am going too. You don’t need to do this."

"No, your destination is not the Lost Realm," Hannah asserted confidently, "Your goal is the wanderers."

She spoke with a declarative tone.