Villain’s Favorite 236

Chapter 236 Where Are All These Good Samaritans Coming From? 

Where in the world did all these softhearted idiots come from? 

Finding no one, George decided to head back. 

He pulled out his own phone, planning to call Maya and ask what she wanted to cat. 

George wasn’t completely useless when it came to daily life. He’d been wandering on his own since he was 

young. 

But feeding Maya instant noodles every day would definitely get him murdered by their mother. 

He’d just go home and cook. 

He rubbed his eyes and made the call. 

She rejected it instantly. 

George tried twice more. Both calls were declined. 

What was this kid doing? 

She was awake but not picking up. Was she playing games? 

He sighed silently and, on instinct, pulled up the tracker he’d slipped onto her. 

George wasn’t a control freak, but since he’d essentially kidnapped Maya, keeping tabs on her location and safety was a reasonable precaution. Under normal circumstances, Maya stayed put-sleeping, gaming, or chatting with people. 

But the next second, the blinking red dot on the screen stopped him in his tracks. 

The dot was nearby. 

Less than 600 feet away. 

George straightened up, turned around, and stared at the two nearly overlapping dots on the screen. He bit the inside of his cheek. 

Impossible. 

His expression flattened. He started walking downstairs, faster now. 

This time, George deliberately slowed his steps. Light. Cat-stalking-a-mouse kind of quiet. 

It was so soft the wind could have swallowed the sound. 

“Maya.” 

He called her name. 

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10:18 Tue, May 12 

Chapter 230 Where Are All These Good Samaritans Coming 

Maya was hiding on the third floor. She didn’t want to move at all. Her legs were jelly. Strands of sweat- dampened hair clung to her forehead, and the wind cutting through the open building made her shiver 

Her nose itched. She couldn’t hold it. She sneezed. 

She was done for. 

She was definitely catching a cold. 

Hearing George call her name made things feel even more done for. 

She was still crying, letting the emotions drain, tucked behind a wooden board draped in cobwebs. 

The girl was filthy from head to toe, eyes red and swimming, looking for all the world like a stray kitten that anyone could kick. 

George lost the ability to speak. 

He looked at his little sister, biting the back of her own hand to muffle her sobs, and froze where he stood. 

Every theory he’d built-the cold-blooded, professional, lone-wolf female assassin who’d single-handedly taken out three men-shattered in an instant. 

Those images had absolutely zero overlap with the red-nosed, knee-hugging, corner-crouching little girl crying in front of him. 

She was terrified. 

They stared at each other across half a room. Three seconds. 

George walked toward her. 

From this angle, Maya could only tilt her head up to look at him. 

His face wore an expression she’d never seen before. 

The corner of his mouth twitched, as if trying to pull itself into the familiar, easy-going grin. 

But the smile broke before it could form. Looking into her tear-filled eyes, he murmured, almost to himself, “So it was you, Maya.” 

It could only have been her. 

Unbelievable. 

Maya sat on the ground clutching her backpack, looking teary-eyed and impossibly small. There was no trace of the person who’d ended three lives with her own hands. 

Every assumption he’d made had been wrong. The answer was the most impossible one of all. 

Outside the window, the sky had fully brightened. 

Sunlight poured through the empty frames and fell across both of them. 

2/3 

10:18 Tue, May 12 N. 

Chapter 236 Where Are All These Good Samaritans Coming 

“I killed people, George.” 

The first word out of Maya’s mouth was a choked sob. She’d managed to pull herself together, but seeing the person she’d saved standing there alive and unharmed broke the dam all over again. 

She was sorry, but she was genuinely terrified of watching someone die in front of her. 

In the past, even a dead bird at her feet had been enough to make her nauseous. She couldn’t bring herself to touch it. 

And not long ago, she’d searched a corpse. 

The tears came faster than she could stop them, and George didn’t know what to do. The first time he’d seen her cry, he’d laughed at how funny she looked. 

Now, her crying was making his heart come apart at the seams. 

Maya was on the ground, so he dropped to his knees beside her, looking down at her face. 

“I’m sorry. This is all because of me, isn’t it?” George came back to himself, registering what had happened. Clumsily, he reached out and wiped her tears, then pulled her into a tight hug, desperate to drive away her fear. “Maya, your tears are somehow deadlier than a knife. Stop crying, Don’t be scared. 

“Do you want a piggyback ride? You can sit on my shoulders. 

“Hey, Maya, Maya.” He was getting restless. “Please stop crying and talk to me.” 

The scene replayed in his head over and over. 

The pounding heartbeat-he couldn’t tell if it was the echo of gunfire or the shock of being saved-tangled together with the image of this girl hiding behind a board, sobbing. 

So, it was true. A child had actually gone that far to save him. 

She traveled all that way alone. She was scared out of her mind. And still, she killed three people. All so he would be safe. 

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