“The Coles? As in Cole Tech, the tech giant conglomerate? She’s in serious trouble now…”

“Three million crowns? There's no way she can pay that even if she sold herself!”

“Poor girl. Her blind date kicks her out over some secretary. Now he even demands money?”

Those whispers boosted Cassey's confidence. Even more so now that Gavin was siding with her.

“That's right! I’ve spent millions maintaining this face over the years! And now you’ve ruined it. Honestly, three million is a bargain! Can a broke little nobody like you even afford that? If not, you might as well start preparing for prison!”

Then her eyes lit up with a twisted idea. She pointed at the scraps of toad still floating in the pot and sneered, “I've figured you can’t afford it. How about this? Eat the rest of that frog soup and get on your knees and beg.”

“Maybe if I’m in a good mood, I’ll even cut you a discount.”

Gavin just stared at me coldly, clearly not planning to stop Cassey. There was a cruel gleam in his eyes, like he was waiting for me to break down.

All eyes in the restaurant were on me—curious, pitying and secretly thrilled. Everyone wanted to see how this poor, no-name photographer would collapse under pressure from the heir to Cole Tech and his rabid little secretary.

What none of them knew was that my grandfather was a decorated war hero who received a first-class military honor in our country. My parents were senior engineers working in classified government tech divisions. Low-profile, yes, but nowhere near powerless. And my family were definitely not one to be looked down on like this.

That simmering anger I’d been swallowing finally boiled over. I calmly reached into my canvas shoulder bag and pulled out my phone.

“All right, I’ll pay,” I said calmly. “But first, you owe me compensation.”

I unlocked my phone, swiped to an encrypted album and tapped open a few photos.

They had been taken just days ago—shots I risked my life for at the edge of the Black Foothills rainforest, during a thunderstorm and landslide alert. Three nearly extinct golden-yellow toads with distinct black star-shaped markings rested quietly on damp moss. Each photo was labeled with their scientific names and tracking numbers.

I looked up, gaze meeting Gavin and Cassey’s squarely as I spoke clearly,

“They are Golden-Spined Mountain Toad. Critically endangered species under national Class One protection. Fewer than fifty are known to exist in the wild.”

“This species has global conservation significance and immense research value. Each individual specimen is valued between 1.2 to 1.8 million crowns.”

My eyes flicked to the pot in front of Cassey—then locked onto Gavin’s visibly paling face.

“Considering I rescued those toads alive during extreme weather and documented them for a national research database, these were living specimens, with high breeding and scientific potential.”

“I’m not asking for much. One and a half million crowns per toad. That’s 4.5 million crowns for all three. So, what's it's gonna be? Cash or card?”

Everyone was stunned silent by the news. Expressions of shock, disbelief and awe were present in the room.

“Four and a half million? For frogs?”

“That’s insane! I don't think a literal solid gold frog would worth that much!”

“Golden-Spined what? Never heard of it. Is this girl making stuff up because she’s desperate?”

Gavin’s face turned stone gray. He slammed a hand on the table and shouted, “Aria Linfield! Are you fucking insane? You think you can extort me with some photos of frogs? Four and a half million? Why not just rob a bank while you’re at it?! You’ve lost your goddamn mind!”

Cassey looked smug and jumped in right after Gavin.

“Aria, you’ve really lost your mind. Four and a half million crowns? For those three nasty, warty frogs? Please! Don't tell me you're getting delusional after Mr. Cole dumped you?"

"Conservation? Endangered species? Pfft! They were just three ugly, worthless freaks. They don't mean much and better off be cooked!”

Gavin stood on his spot with arms crossed. He watched me as cold smirk crossed his lips. I could tell he was waiting to see how I’d backpedal. He was convinced I’d made up the price tag to bluff my way out of paying.

I didn’t bother arguing with those fools. Instead, I calmly pulled out my phone and dialed a long, complex number—one that wasn’t stored in my contacts.

It was a direct emergency line to the highest level of the MESC—the Ministry of Ecological Security and Conservation.

The phone rang once before a composed, authoritative male voice picked up. “Emergency Command, what is your situation.”

I turned slightly and lowered my voice, just enough for the receiver.

“I'm calling from Blue Vale, at the Magma Boiling Point Hotpot Restaurant, Table 18. There's a Class One Emergency.”

“Three critically endangered live specimens—designated Golden-Spined Mountain Toads, IDs 07, 11 and 13—have just been illegally killed and cooked on-site.”

For a second, the other end of the line fell into complete silence.

Then, that steady voice suddenly snapped into a mix of disbelief and rage. “WHAT did you say?! Specimen numbers 7, 11 and 13 were eaten?! Are you absolutely certain?!”

“Affirmative, Sir,” I replied, my voice flat and emotionless.

“We have physical remains, full video footage and social media posts confirming the act. The individual responsible is named Cassey Blinks. Her employer, Gavin Cole, witnessed the crime, failed to intervene and is now attempting to cover it up. Both are on-site, uncooperative and have shown no remorse.”

“Unbelievable! Lawless savages!” the man roared. “Secure the scene! Nobody leaves the site! Not a single damn fly!”

“This is a Level One Response! Mobilize the Wildlife Protection Tactical Unit! Alert SWAT and the City Command! Lock down the entire block around the restaurant! Initiate Class A Emergency Containment Protocol! I’m leading the response myself. ETA—screw five minutes, I’ll be there in three!”

Then the call abruptly cut off with a sharp click.

For a second, everything was dead silent. Then the crowd got loud once more.

“Wait… was that for real?”

“SWAT? Class A lockdown? What the hell is going on?!”

“Those toads… they really were worth that much?”

Cassey rolled her eyes and let out a loud, mocking scoff.

“Please! Keep acting! Let’s see how long you can fake it! You think you’re the only one who knows how to put on a show?”

But Gavin… Gavin was starting to sweat. There was a flicker of fear in his eyes. He glared at me like he was trying to drill through my skull.

“Aria… all those acts, just to dodge paying three million? Have you no shame? Grandpa Troy gave his whole life to serve this country and you... you’re out here spouting lies like a con artist!”

“What the hell are you trying to pull? A phone call and some wildlife sob story and you think—”

He didn’t get to finish. Because just then, a wall of blaring sirens erupted in the distance. Not one, not a few. Dozens. Closing in from every direction.

Then came the sound of boots—rushing like a thunderous drumline moving in. Armored vehicles, decked out in deep green tactical camo with bold Ecological Enforcement and SWAT insignia, screeched to a halt right in front of the restaurant.

They were like steel beasts awakened for war.

With a violent clang, the vehicle door slammed open.

Two squads of fully armed SWAT officers in black tactical gear stormed out first. They moved efficiently, splitting off into formation and locking down every exit of the restaurant within seconds.

Right behind them came a wave of officers in navy-blue uniforms—ecological enforcement agents. Each of them looked like they were bracing for a high-risk biohazard breach.

Then the last to step out was a sharply dressed middle-aged man with the kind of presence that made people instinctively move aside.

His expression was grim. Around him clustered a group of senior officers and SWAT commanders, clearing the way as he strode toward the restaurant with furious purpose. It was Roy Marshall, head of the MESC—the same man who had been shouting over the phone minutes earlier.

The door to the restaurant flew open, slamming hard against the wall.

“Lock down the scene! Everyone on the ground! Hands on your heads! No phones! No cameras!” A SWAT commander barked into a megaphone, voice full of unchallengeable authority.

Every diner, server and staff member dropped into a crouch like their lives depended on it. The dining hall, once filled with the buzz of conversation and the clatter of hotpot ladles, was now silent—save for the sound of shaky breathing and teeth chattering in fear.

At our table... we were still standing.

Roy’s eyes immediately locked onto the toad remnants in the dish in front of Cassey and the glowing phone screen still sitting on the table—frozen on a screenshot of her social media post. The damning evidence.

Roy instantly went livid, veins bulging at his temple. “You absolute idiots!”

He stormed over in three strides, eyes burning with barely contained rage.

The moment he reached our table, he practically shouted, “Golden-Spined Mountain Toads! One of the last confirmed wild populations on the planet! Fewer than fifty left—worldwide—and you two thought it was soup meat?!”

He was trembling with fury, pointing first at the bubbling hotpot, then at the shredded carcass in the dish and finally pointed a finger at Cassey’s pale, frozen face.

“Illegal poaching. Illegal slaughter. Illegal consumption. And you had the nerve to brag about it online?! Who the hell gave you that kind of arrogance?!”

Then he turned to the ghost-pale looking Gavin.

“Gavin Cole. Heir to Cole Tech, huh? Very impressive. Covering up a federal crime? Threatening a government researcher? Forcing someone to consume remains of a critically endangered species?!”

“Do you think your family is above national law?!”

“C-Commander Marshall!” Gavin’s voice was shaking now. His arrogant and dismissive tone from few moments ago were gone.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. That one call from me, had summoned the kind of force most people only saw in breaking-news headlines.

Gavin had never imagined that those three toads could carry enough weight to bring down the full wrath of the National Ecological Security Command, complete with SWAT teams and armored convoys.

His knees buckled. For the first time, he truly looked at me compared to the earlier moments of the day.

“Ari…” he croaked my nickname as he stumbled a step toward me—and dropped. Hard. On his knees hitting the greasy hotpot-stained tile floor.

“Ari, I was wrong! I messed up! I really messed up!” Tears streamed down his once-handsome face, now twisted with fear and desperation.

“I was blind! I let myself be manipulated by that viper Cassey—I didn’t know what I was doing! Please, I beg you—say something to Commander Marshall! Tell him it was a misunderstanding!”

“Spare the Coles! Just this once!”

“I’ll do anything! I’ll make this right! I’ll tell my family we loved the date! I’ll tell them the match was perfect! We’ll marry—right away! We’ll make it official between the Coles and the Linfields!”