As the crowd was pushed aside and a path suddenly appeared, the parents and hoodlums who had been locked in a heated argument, and were on the verge of exchanging blows once again, instinctively fell silent.

One after another, heads turned toward the newcomers.

For a brief moment, the noisy street became eerily quiet as everyone stared at the group making their way through the crowd.

It didn’t take long for Ashley to spot the child she had asked to watch over the car.

The sight immediately made her frown.

The boy’s left eye was swollen and bruised, a dark black eye forming around it. His split lip was still bleeding, staining the corner of his mouth red. He clung tightly to a woman who appeared to be his mother, sobbing miserably.

When the crowd suddenly fell silent, the boy instinctively looked up.

The moment he saw Ashley, his eyes lit up with recognition. It was as if he had finally found someone he could complain to after enduring so much injustice.

His tears flowed even harder.

"S-Sister..." he cried between sobs. "Waaah... those bad guys hit me!"

The boy pointed accusingly at the group of hoodlums his father was currently confronting.

Standing protectively in front of his family, the boy’s father had removed his shirt, revealing a body covered in tattoos. In one hand, he gripped a two-foot-long machete, clearly trying to intimidate the hoodlums and keep them from making another move.

Unfortunately, the hoodlums appeared completely unfazed.

It was obvious they were used to this kind of confrontation. Despite the weapon in the man’s hand, none of them showed any intention of backing down, and the tension between both sides remained high enough that another fight could break out at any moment.

"It’s alright. Don’t cry," Ashley said softly as she gently patted the boy’s head.

While comforting him, her gaze drifted toward the hoodlums and the boy’s father, who were still locked in a tense standoff. Not far away, several police officers stood to the side, merely watching the situation unfold.

The more Ashley observed them, the more she felt that the officers had only come to fulfill a procedural obligation. They were present because they had to be, not because they genuinely intended to resolve the conflict.

Then again, perhaps she couldn’t entirely blame them.

Fights and disputes like this were commonplace in the city. In the slums, they were even more frequent. After witnessing the same scenes day after day, some people in authority inevitably became numb to them, while others preferred not to get involved unless absolutely necessary. After all, stepping into the middle of a conflict often meant inviting trouble onto themselves.

As a result, the officers remained where they were, watching from the sidelines as both sides continued glaring at one another, neither willing to back down.

Seeing the situation unfold, Ashley quickly realized that she couldn’t count on the police to handle it.

Fortunately, the men Mr. Lowe had assigned to them were far more proactive.

Since Ashley and her group were Mr. Lowe’s guests, the bodyguards naturally considered it their responsibility to ensure their safety and deal with any trouble that came their way. Without waiting for instructions, several of them stepped forward and positioned themselves between the hoodlums and the injured boy’s family.

The bodyguards were towering men with broad shoulders and imposing physiques. Many of them had tattoos snaking up their necks and disappearing beneath their sleeves, while the cold, dangerous aura they carried made them look even more intimidating. These were clearly not ordinary bodyguards. They were the type of men who had seen real violence and weren’t afraid of it.

The hoodlums, who had been acting aggressively moments ago, instinctively took a step back.

Then another.

The bodyguards didn’t even need to speak.

A single cold glance from them was enough.

The bloodlust and pressure radiating from their group made the local troublemakers feel as though they were facing predators rather than people. Compared to these men, they were nothing more than small-time street thugs.

Realizing they had kicked an iron plate they couldn’t afford to provoke, the hoodlums immediately lost their earlier bravado. One by one, they retreated with dark expressions, not daring to utter another word.

After all, picking a fight with these men would be like throwing an egg at a boulder. The outcome was obvious from the start.

Before long, the hoodlums slipped away with their tails tucked between their legs, disappearing into the crowd as quickly as they could.

"You! Just you wait!" the hoodlums’ leader shouted, desperately trying to save face.

Unfortunately, his threat lacked any real intimidation. By the time he finished speaking, he was already backing away, and a second later, he turned around and broke into a full sprint, fleeing the scene like a frightened rabbit. The rest of his companions quickly followed behind him.

Once the troublemakers were gone, one of Mr. Lowe’s bodyguards stepped over to inspect the vehicle parked by the roadside.

A few moments later, he returned to Ashley.

"Miss Gildenvale, it appears that your car sustained some damage during the commotion," he reported respectfully. "There are several dents on the body. If you don’t mind, we’ll arrange for it to be repaired and have it returned to you later. In the meantime, we’ll escort you back to your hotel."

As he spoke, his tone remained polite and professional.

To him, this was the most appropriate solution.

After all, Mr. Lowe had personally entrusted Ashley and her companions to their care. If anything happened to them, or if they failed to ensure their comfort and safety, it would be Mr. Lowe they would have to answer to afterward. None of them were eager to explain why his honored guests had been inconvenienced under their watch.

After taking a closer look at the car, Ashley noticed something else.

At some point during the commotion, the hoodlums had apparently realized they wouldn’t be able to steal the vehicle. Unwilling to leave empty-handed, they had likely vented their frustration on it instead. One of the tires on the right side had been slashed, leaving it completely flat.

Under those circumstances, there was no way they could drive the car back to the hotel.

Ashley nodded in understanding before glancing at Gage and Gideon. Seeing both men silently agree with the arrangement, she turned back to the bodyguard and nodded once more, signaling her acceptance of his proposal.

"Thank you. We’ll leave it in your hands."

After settling the matter, Ashley crouched down in front of the injured boy.

Taking out a hundred-dollar bill from her purse, she gently pressed it into his hand.

"Here, take this," she said softly.

As she spoke, she carefully examined his injuries. Fortunately, they appeared to be nothing more than bruises and superficial cuts. They looked painful, but they weren’t serious.

Even so, Ashley knew the child had been frightened while trying to protect their car. Whether it was for his efforts or the beating he had endured, she felt he deserved some compensation.

Still, she couldn’t afford to give too much.

In a place like this, a large amount of money could easily attract unwanted attention and bring trouble to both the boy and his family. One hundred dollars was enough to help them without making them a target.