The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call (Wynter Quinnell) novel Chapter 1702

"Wherever Dalton is, I will be there, too?" Dalton repeated Wynter's words, his gaze shifting slightly. His face, already strikingly handsome, became even more so when graced with a smile.

This was a rarity among men. Years of refinement had instilled a natural presence of authority in Dalton, as if he could control everything around him. The scholarly elegance that emanated from his very being only served to make his subtle smirks even more captivating.

Wynter was, without a doubt, a sucker for people with good looks. And when the man in question was her fiancé, she saw no reason to hold back.

"Exactly. Of course, I'll be wherever you are."

Dalton's voice was calm. "And what if you were to betray me?"

Wynter raised an eyebrow. "Me? Betray you?"

Dalton responded with a quiet hum.

Wynter reached out, lifting his chin slightly with her fingers, inspecting him before chuckling. "When you have a face like this? How dumb would I have to be to betray you?"

Dalton was accustomed to her teasing demeanor by now. Compared to her antics in her previous lifetime, she was already much more restrained.

But the waiter, who had just come in with their dishes, was clearly not used to it. He completely froze at that sight.

Not wanting to make a scene, Wynter quickly withdrew her hand. Still, even such a small display was enough to set the rumor mill into overdrive.

When Theo heard the reports later, he was thoroughly delighted.

Dalton was a cold-hearted iceberg, after all. Someone needed to take the initiative in the relationship. And if it was Wynter doing so, that suited him just fine!

In his joy, he issued bonuses for all his staff, so the employees couldn't help but wish for Wynter to visit Colifernia more often. Not only was Theo more generous, but even Dalton seemed to ease up on his usual relentless pursuit in their projects when he was happy.

Dalton, for his part, was in an undeniably good mood. He had long known that Wynter had a certain appreciation for his looks—one thing she was never subtle about.

What puzzled him, however, was a lingering inconsistency. In their previous life, she hadn't seemed the least bit interested in his type. If anything, her preference had leaned toward what modern vernacular might call the cute and clingy type.

He glanced at Wynter, just about to broach the topic, when her phone rang suddenly. The ringtone was distinct—one reserved for her members in the Special Unit.

Wynter answered the call. "Hello. How is it?"

"There are indeed many viruses present, but nothing currently uncontrollable. All identified strains are ones we've seen before. Even if an outbreak were to occur, it would remain within manageable limits."

The voice on the other end was low, as if deliberately avoiding being overheard. "Boss, should we shut down this farmers' market?"

Wynter raised her eyebrows. "If these are all known viruses, why should we shut it down immediately?"

"There are just too many wild animals there. Even if things are fine now, there's no guarantee for the future. And there's something... strange."

Wynter lifted her gaze. "What is it?"

"I can't explain it clearly right now, but I need you to see it for yourself to understand. I can't make any conspicuous moves here at the moment."

Wynter's fingers paused briefly. "Understood. Head back to the Disease Control Department. Remember to keep your identity concealed. Also, I'll need a comprehensive report on patient admissions from major hospitals in the area."

"Got it, Boss. I'll get it to you in two days."

The person on the line hung up quickly, clearly in a rush to return to their job. They had to avoid arousing suspicion, ensuring that their temporary absence didn't appear deliberate to avoid alerting any potential culprits. Only then would they be able to gather more information.

After ending the call, Wynter brought Dalton back to the bustling farmers' market.

There were now more people bargaining and packaging goods. However, one peculiar thing caught her attention. Earlier, there had been numerous animals at the stall, but now, only the black serpent she had purchased remained.

Wynter approached Oscar, who smiled warmly and stood up. "Miss, are you here to pick up your snake?"

Wynter nodded. "Yes, I am. By the way, your business seems pretty good. I was planning to buy more, but it looks like everything else is gone now. What happened to all the stock?"

Oscar chuckled. "Oh, miss, you came too late. You wouldn't believe it—recently, monkeys have been selling like crazy. Other animals sell out quickly, too, so by this time of day, it's usually all gone."

"Really? Who came to buy them? That's a lot of stock cleared out," Wynter asked.

Oscar didn't think much of it. "There's this guy who's been coming by recently. He clears out everything we've got every time he's here. But he doesn't talk much—it's always his people doing the bargaining for him. He himself is carefully covered with only his eyes showing."

Wynter paused for a moment. "Just his eyes showing?"

"Yeah, I still have no idea what the guy looks like." He added, "But he hasn't been coming personally the last few days. He just sends people to pick up the goods."

Wynter's suspicion deepened. She glanced around the stall. "Do you have any surveillance cameras here?"

"Surveillance cameras? Why would I install something like that?" Oscar looked at Wynter in confusion. "In this line of work, nobody wants evidence lying around. Say, miss, what exactly are you up to?"

Wynter noticed there weren't any cameras in the market. The infrastructure was outdated—loose wires hung precariously. Without surveillance cameras, it explained why there were no leads on Lupius.

Oscar continued eyeing her warily, his guard clearly up. "Miss, right after you left earlier, someone came by saying they were conducting a hygiene inspection. You wouldn't happen to have reported us to the authorities, would you?"

He had rushed to sell off the wild animals precisely because of his fear of the inspections.

When Wynter first entered the market earlier, she had already noticed the intricate familiarity among the stall owners. If she caused them to become hostile now, it would only make investigating further even harder.

She had also observed the sheer size of the farmers' market. Some people even lived there. If an overhaul were truly necessary, it wouldn't be a task completed in a single day.

What struck her as odd was that in such a modern city like Colifernia, a market like this still existed in the heart of the old district.

With the rise of supermarkets catering to urbanites' increasing demands for convenience and quality, one would expect such traditional markets to have dwindled. Logically, it should be almost impossible for such markets to survive.

Nevertheless, undoubtedly for many, places like this were essential.

Most of the vendors working here weren't locals. They came from Colifernia's outskirts or even further west. For them, staying in a developed city wasn't just about making a living but also about giving their children access to better education and opportunities.

"Stop staring and finish your homework. Did you understand what your teacher said?" Amidst the distinct smell of fish, a female vendor called out to her daughter.

Not far from Wynter, a young girl with two braided pigtails set down her tablet and replied, "Okay!"

She then ran inside with a quick patter of footsteps, shouting, "Mommy! There's a really pretty miss and mister over there buying a snake!"

"Don't worry about others. Go wash your hands," her mother replied.

Wynter could see the karma on him now, something she wouldn't have been able to discern before obtaining the Soul Commanding Badge. She saw the mother monkey's lingering hatred—the strongest grievance attached to him.

"You've been cursed." Wynter raised her hand and pressed a lucky token against his head.

Instantly, a flash of memory came rushing back to Oscar. He looked at Wynter in shock. "I didn't do it on purpose. My wife was about to give birth, and we needed the money.

"Her amniotic fluid was insufficient, and I couldn't let her travel back to the countryside to deliver the baby. I-I was wrong."

Oscar stood up abruptly, clearly nervous. "I really am aware of my mistakes now."

It was clear Oscar genuinely wanted to turn over a new leaf.

If there were no demands, there wouldn't be any slaughter, but commerce—especially illicit trade—was an ever-present challenge.

Wynter met his gaze. "The animal you wronged was also trying to protect its child. So, it's time to hang up your tools for good. Stop selling these animals."

Oscar nodded fervently and put down the fish spear in his hands. "I won't sell them anymore! I swear, I'll never sell them again!"

The other vendors, who had been listening from the sidelines, began glancing at their own stalls with contemplation.

There were no problems for those who sold everyday goods, but there were many here who had secretly sold these wild animals. After all, it was hard to escape the demand.

Wynter, seeing the ripple her words had caused, took the opportunity to continue, "This isn't just about karma or consequences. Many animals carry bacteria and pathogens that are harmful to humans.

"You must be careful even with ordinary seafood. Always wear gloves when handling them, and wash your hands thoroughly afterward."

Her gaze shifted to a corner. "And especially for children—their immune systems are weaker. It's crucial to take proper precautions to protect them."

By this point, the vendors had completely placed their trust in Wynter. Her explanations about medical precautions and public health had firmly taken root in their minds. Typical public awareness campaigns rarely achieved such impactful results.

Prevention before disaster was the goal, and for now, this was a necessary first step. She planned to instruct her company to draft a proposal on how to regulate and redesign the market later at night.

Oscar, eager to atone for his past, offered to help Wynter by keeping an eye out for anyone else attempting to purchase large quantities of exotic animals.

He even provided her with an address, though when Wynter searched it, she found it was just a bustling street, too crowded to pinpoint any specific target.

As Wynter and Dalton walked toward the market's exit, Dalton spoke up. "Maybe the buyer isn't mute but chooses not to speak for some reason."

Wynter shared the same thought. "It's possible they're a foreigner. Speaking Cascadian might give them away, so they let their subordinate handle the bargaining to avoid trouble."

She already more or less had an answer—a person with golden hair, who had started purchasing large quantities of live animals recently and refusing to speak directly.

"They're not buying all these animals for consumption," she mused. "If they're doing experiments, the lab must be nearby. Otherwise, it wouldn't make sense to source animals from here."

Pulling out her phone, Wynter instructed her Special Unit members to survey a three-mile radius around the farmers' market, looking for any discreet locations suitable for conducting experiments.

Just as she sent the message, her phone buzzed with an incoming call.

"Boss, we've got a problem here!"