Westlane Road Police Substation.

  It was around 11:30 p.m. when they finally finished giving their statements.

  With the security footage and the restaurant owner's testimony, the sequence of events was clear—the men couldn't deny it even if they tried.

  But the fact remained that they were seriously injured. The bald man's forehead was still bleeding profusely; he'd been escorted to the emergency room by an officer for stitches. The other two also had visible bruises and welts. If the men insisted on pressing that point, the case couldn't simply be ruled as harassment.

  The night shift consisted of inexperienced junior officers. They debated back and forth without reaching a conclusion. As midnight approached, Scarlett was practically dozing off against Grace's shoulder.

  "Officers, have you made a decision yet? What's the punishment for them? My brothers and I are seriously hurt here—you need to come down hard!"

  One of the men grew impatient as the wait dragged on and started making a scene.

  The thin, dark-skinned officer shot him a stern look. "Shut up and wait for your turn!"

  "We've been waiting nearly two hours! We need to get home—wives and kids are waiting."

  "You have a wife and kids, and you still harass young women on the street? Have you no shame?"

  "That wasn't harassment! I said a few words, didn't even touch anyone, and got beaten like this. You can't go easy on them just because they're pretty!"

  Just then, the station door swung open and a man strode in quickly. He was around 185 centimeters tall, dressed in black casual pants and a plain white T-shirt.

  His sharp, steady gaze swept over the two groups seated in the waiting area. "Quite a scene in here."

  Everyone instinctively looked up. The man was handsome—strikingly so—with an effortless, commanding presence that radiated integrity. His eyes were deep and piercing like an eagle's. His mere glance had silenced the babbling man instantly.

  "Captain Quinn!"

  The thin officer hurried over, apologetic. "Sorry to drag you out so late, Captain."

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  Eden Quinn had already assessed the situation with that one glance, but honestly, he couldn't immediately piece together how three unharmed girls and two battered men were connected.

  "What happened?" Eden asked.

  "Three men harassed these girls at a barbecue joint. One of the girls fought back and injured them. The bald guy's hurt pretty bad—Officer Hook took him to the emergency room at the Second Hospital for stitches."

  Hearing this, the man piped up again. "I told you, it wasn't harassment. Just friendly chatting. I didn't even touch anyone, and I got beaten like this!"

  Eden turned to look at him. The man instinctively shut his mouth. Eden's tone was light but carried immense weight. "If a woman feels harassed, harassment is established. Who told you no physical contact means no harassment? Verbal harassment is still harassment."

  The man shrank back, not daring to utter another word.

  Grace and the others remained silent, watching this Captain Eden who had appeared out of nowhere. But each had their own thoughts.

  Scarlett's eyelids were heavy with sleep; she just wanted this over with so they could leave, even if it meant paying compensation.

  Mauve sat with arms crossed, leaning back in her chair, completely unbothered. Grace had said don't kill them, and Mauve knew her limits. The bald man's head wound was the only serious one—the rest were minor injuries at most, falling short of the threshold for criminal charges. Mauve knew the law well.

  Grace, however, seemed lost in thought, almost forgetting she was in a police station. Her gaze lingered on Eden Quinn's face.

  This man couldn't be described as "handsome"—he was "stunning" in a way that transcended mere looks. It was more about his bearing, his presence.

  "You mentioned a bald man?" Eden seized on the key detail from the officer's report. "James Evans?"

  The officer's eyes widened. "Captain Quinn, how did you know?"

  Eden let out a cold laugh. "Three-time repeat offender. Prior record of harassing women. Repeat offense means harsher punishment. Tell Officer Hook to bring him back here once his wounds are treated."

  "Yes, sir. And them...?"

  Eden flipped through the statements and the owner's testimony. After a moment, he declared, "Harassment established. Under the Protection from Harassment Act 1997, each man receives a twenty-cent fine and fifteen days' detention. James Evans's punishment will be escalated—after detention, his case will be transferred to the prosecutor's office for further liability."

  He closed the file and handed it back to the junior officer. "Next time you're uncertain about cases like this, determine based on causality. The party that triggers the incident bears the primary consequences. The 'cause' in harassment cases is always the man."

  The officer blinked, then hesitated. "But they were beaten this badly..."

  Eden looked at the two battered men without a shred of sympathy. "Given the natural strength disparity between men and women, when a woman faces a threat, if she doesn't fight back with everything she has, she'll likely end up at a disadvantage."

  "When doing everything possible to protect herself and her companions from harm, she doesn't have the luxury—or the ability—to define the bounds of excessive self-defense. In such cases, the line is drawn at serious injury. Anything below that threshold is considered justifiable self-defense."

  Mauve caught every word. A faint, barely perceptible smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

  The junior officer nodded repeatedly. "Got it, Captain Quinn ."

  Soon, officers came to escort the two men away. They protested loudly, vowing to sue Grace and the others for intentional harm.

  But Grace and her friends remained utterly calm, showing none of the anxiety typical of female students in a police station.

  Eden walked over to them, his gaze settling directly on Grace. His profession had honed his instincts—he'd noticed this young woman staring at him ever since he walked in.

  "Which school?" Eden asked.

  Grace answered quietly, "Aethelburg University of Science and Technology."

  Eden nodded. "College students, then. Adults capable of bearing social and legal responsibility. We won't notify your school. Next time something like this happens, remember to call the police first. Don't act impulsively just because you know how to fight. What if they'd had weapons?"

  "Now, each of you will pay a five-cent fine, sign the documents, and you're free to go."

  Grace blinked. "I thought you said this was justifiable self-defense? Why a fine?"

  Eden looked at her and chuckled. "You think you can walk away scot-free after beating them like that? Without a fine, they'll keep pushing, and you'll have endless trouble down the line."

  "Pay it, and it's over?"

  Eden studied her for a moment, then gave a slight nod. "Pay it. I'll handle the rest."