After catching her before she hit the ground, Stan let out a low sigh and lowered her carefully onto the floor then checked her breathing.

She was steady but unconscious, most likely from the lingering effects of whatever she’d been drugged with combined with the abrupt collapse of her stress response.

Not in immediate danger. But she definitely needed medical attention.

Around the room, the men who could still move scrambled toward the exit, hurriedly dragging their injured companions with them as they abandoned any remaining thoughts of finishing what they’d started.

Stan heard hurried footsteps fading into the distance.

He didn’t pursue them.

Amelia was the priority, and there was no chance he was leaving an unconscious woman alone inside an abandoned building.

He pulled out his phone and called the police.

Before the line connected, tires screeched outside the building.

Then came hurried footsteps.

Multiple people.

Fast.

"She triggered the emergency alarm on her phone, I tracked the signal here!"

"Hurry up! The director’s people are right behind us!"

"Who the hell kidnaps Director Amelia?!"

The voices were sharp, organized, urgent.

And unmistakably here for her.

Stan slowly looked down at Amelia lying unconscious beside him, clothing disheveled, ropes scattered nearby, then glanced at himself standing alone in the room with her.

A headache immediately began forming.

’This is going to look unbelievably bad.’

There were only two people visibly present at the scene:

An unconscious woman who couldn’t explain anything. And him.

There was no version of this situation that wouldn’t look wrong to people arriving in panic.

The police line was still ringing unanswered in his ear when a group of women swept into the room.

They were all dressed in security outfits and had badges on, they were private security. Weirdly the group of security personnel consists of only women...

They entered with practiced coordination, spreading through the building with the speed and discipline of trained protective personnel.

Then they froze.

Their director lay unconscious on the floor in torn clothing.

And a young man stood calmly beside her.

The woman who appeared to be leading them reacted instantly.

She raised a handgun and aimed it directly at Stan.

"Did you do this to director Amelia?"

Exactly the misunderstanding he had expected. And exactly the one he currently had no clean way to disprove.

"I didn’t," Stan answered evenly, keeping both hands visible. "I found her being kidnapped. I stopped them. The men responsible just fled, you probably passed them on your way here."

"You did all this," the woman said flatly, skepticism dripping from every word, "alone?"

"Yes."

The security team exchanged looks.

Stan understood their disbelief completely.

One person overpowering an entire kidnapping crew by himself sounded absurd. Real rescues involved planning, coordination, trained teams.

Not a random young man casually dismantling six criminals alone inside an abandoned building.

If their positions were reversed, he probably wouldn’t believe it either.

And there was certainly no way he could explain the real reason.

Not without sounding insane. He couldn’t possibly tell them that he had superhuman strength to take on a bunch of kidnappers.

Stan sighed softly.

"Alright," he said calmly. "I understand how this looks. I’m going to show you exactly what I was doing before you arrived. Nothing sudden, stay calm."

At that exact moment, the call finally connected.

"Police emergency line. What’s your emergency?"

The security team frowned immediately.

"Director Emma," one of the women murmured cautiously to the leader, "be careful. He could be trying something."

Emma kept the gun trained steadily on Stan. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"Slowly," she ordered. "Show us the screen."

Stan turned the phone toward them.

The women were foreigners, but professional security personnel recognized the country’s emergency interface immediately. They watched long enough to confirm the call was legitimate.

Not fake. Not staged. Not a distraction. An actual emergency call to the police.

For the first time since entering the room, their expressions shifted slightly.

Not trust. But uncertainty. Was he really saying the truth, if he was then how did he do it...

"You see?" Stan said calmly. "I was calling the police before you arrived."

"Sir, what is your emergency?" the operator repeated through the speaker.

Stan brought the phone back to his ear.

"This is Stan Harrison," he said. "I need multiple officers dispatched to my location immediately."

There was a brief pause.

"Stan Harrison?"

The recognition in the operator’s voice was immediate.

Even the security team reacted to hearing the name out loud, surprise rippling subtly through the group.

Ironically, it almost made the story harder to believe.

What tycoon personally chased down kidnappers in abandoned buildings like a vigilante?

Still, Stan had cooperated fully from the start, and that fact alone prevented the situation from escalating further.

"Your location has been traced," the operator continued. "Units are already en route."

"Understood."

The call ended.

Stan lowered the phone and looked back at the women.

"Here’s the situation," he said calmly. "I saved her. She’s unconscious, so she can’t confirm it yet. I currently have no evidence to prove my version of events."

He spoke with complete composure.

"So this is what I’ll do. I’ll remain exactly where I am with my hands visible until the police arrive. Then we sort everything out properly together."

The women kept their weapons raised, but the hostility in the room had noticeably weakened.

"And one more thing," Stan continued. "I’ll cover every medical expense she has from tonight. Whatever treatment she needs, however long it takes."

His tone remained calm and steady, but inwardly, he was already thinking ahead. Even in a situation like this, part of his mind was calculating possibilities. If helping her earned him rebates later, then this was the perfect opportunity to play the role of the caring humanitarian while doing genuine good at the same time.

"When she wakes up, she can tell you herself what happened," he added with a sigh. "That’s the best proof either of us is going to get."