Hannah looked up, her eyes reddened from rubbing, tears having washed away the dust around them, revealing a bit of her delicate skin.

"Hannah, my name is Hannah."

She repeated it twice.

The old woman reached out and rubbed her head. "You must be hungry, dear. I have some tasty cakes here, would you like to eat some?"

Hannah clutched her fingers, her eyes timid. "Can I... really eat?"

"Of course," the old woman nodded, "but you have to let granny go inside first."

Hannah hesitated, her little hands clasped together, her eyes irresistibly drawn to the basket on the old woman’s arm.

She must appear conflicted and tense to lower their guard.

That’s what she told herself silently.

"Granny, do you really have cakes?"

She asked in a soft voice, her eyes innocent and naive.

"Of course, I do." The old woman smiled, pulling back a corner of the gray cloth covering the basket to reveal a corner of a large cake.

It was the kind baked in an iron pan, sprinkled with a few sesame seeds, just looking at it made one hungry.

"Little girl, can granny come in now?"

Hannah quickly nodded and pulled the door open. "Granny, please come in."

The old lady’s smile deepened. "What a good child."

The night was thick, the north wind biting.

The rickety wooden door of the house closed.

Nearby, several people who had been watching withdrew their gazes.

"It’s a pity, the Poison Granny beat us to it again."

"She moves so quickly, I hadn’t even readied my knife and she had already struck."

"The kid is really unlucky, the last one Poison Granny set her eyes on had his organs..."

The men shuddered at the thought of that bloody scene.

Poison Granny was the name of the old woman who had just gone inside.

In their refugee area, Poison Granny was notoriously venomous and cruel.

With her kindly face, who knew how many "newcomers" from Bleary she had deceived.

Just like the man Poison Granny had killed before was also living in the same house as Hannah now.

They probably hadn’t even cleaned up the blood yet.

No one had ever escaped from Poison Granny’s clutches, many were left disfigured by her tortures, not to mention a six-year-old child.

In Bleary, everyone was both the hunting wolf and the mutual prey.

No one dared to let their guard down because you never knew when someone might seize the moment you relaxed to choke you.

Day broke.

Sunlight dispelled the gloom of Bleary’s night.

That day, no one anticipated that the person who would walk out of that house alive would be Hannah.

Under the sun, she stretched lazily, seemingly having slept well the night before. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Not a trace of tiredness was visible.

She even cheerfully greeted her "neighbors" on both sides.

One "neighbor" immediately shut their door, while another asked, "What about Poison Granny?"

"Poison Granny?" The little girl’s voice was soft, her eyes curving into crescents as she smiled, "Do you mean the old lady from last night?"

The man asking was middle-aged with three knife scars on his face. He wore a shirt with one sleeve missing, and in his other hand, he held a large knife.

His voice was exceptionally gruff, the kind that could make a child cry outright.

Hannah was just a child, a six-year-old child.

But she didn’t cry; instead, she smiled sweetly.

It was a smile completely unsuitable for the bloodthirsty Bleary.

The man subconsciously tightened his grip on the knife.