...
After parking the car slowly, Faye Owen motioned to a following van. Two blue-clad movers climbed down and, following her instructions, started unloading from the van about seven or eight cardboard boxes of various sizes, one of which was nearly a meter squared.
Faye also picked up a bag, calling out to the two movers to follow her upstairs.
"Yves King, open the door," Faye, who had no free hands to open the door, shouted into the room.
Inside, Yves King was happily bustling around the kitchen in a homemaker's apron. The aroma of the food, appealing to both the nose and eyes, could rival that of a five-star hotel chef, making Yves quite pleased with himself.
It had been several days since he returned from the borderlands, and Yves had finally transitioned from a life of bloody vengeance to one of ordinary and plain existence. The anger in his heart dissipated gradually in the tranquility of everyday life.