Chapter Text
NEW YORK, USA
Sing hated their main headquarters in Brooklyn-- corridors cold, underground passages way too narrow for his size, and the people here were extremely anal about their work, always shouting frantically about one thing or another. And yet, despite his large stature blocking up most of their path, not one soul grumbled about his presence, opting to quietly shuffle along the sides to reach their destination, ignoring the sudden roadblock.
They pointedly avoided him, more like.
Eh, whatever. Sing sneezed, cursing the frigid underground air once more. The avoidance came with the territory-- most folks wouldn’t want a mercenary taking an interest in them after all.
But he couldn’t help thinking back to the Chinatown outpost he usually reported to. Chang Dai actually had people he could vibe with, and the boss was actually a pretty cool guy. Sure, Shorter Wong was unorthodox in taking the time to personally know his agents-- especially considering the nature of their business-- but if there were such thing as a group of loyal spies, they were the closest thing.
And so, when the big brass specifically summoned him to their giant underground lair without consulting Shorter first, the alarm bells in his head started going off. He could only think of two reasons why they might have bypassed Shorter to drag him here.
One, was that they wanted him to dispose of Shorter or one of their Chinatown crew. And if so, Lee Wang Lung can join his father in the afterlife. He held no love for the Lees-- them rich elitist assholes could kiss his ass for all he cared. If it weren’t for Shorter, he and the gang would have left the organisation ages ago.
Two, was that they wanted him to off one of Shorter’s other agent friends. That itself already posed a problem, because all of Shorter’s pals were absolute nutjobs -- veteran agents who were the top of their game. Now, he was in no way a green horn in the field, and was pretty confident in his skills, but he knew when to pick his battles.
Depending on who he got, he might just actually get killed.
--
“Your target is Eiji Okumura. Third in line from the Tachibana clan in Kansai, Japan. We’ve got a huge business deal with the heir, and with the current head slowly succumbing to his liver disease, we can’t afford any disruptions.”
Sing blinked owlishly at the manila folder in his hands, where wide brown eyes on crisp white paper stared back. The file said he was almost twenty eight, but the target barely looked twenty with his fluffy hair and baby fat still clinging to his cheeks. To be entirely honest, Eiji Okumura looked like the type to apologise after bumping into a table-- but he knew better than to judge a book by its cover.
The most mysterious bit was that he looked incredibly familiar; he just couldn’t figure out why.
“He was last seen at JFK airport two days ago. This one is an immediate kill on sight,” Wang Lung gave his cigarette one last puff before he snuffed out, the smoke leaving the sterling silver ashtray in wisps.
“It doesn’t have to be clean. In fact, feel free to use your imagination. Our business partner would love to send a clear message to the second-in-line with regards to his intentions-- unless of course, he's managed to reach Japan. Then you have to make it look like an accident. They've got to keep up appearances after all.”
“First off,” Sing flipped a page, the photo of Okumura rushing through the airport printed at the top-- he looked like a lost child. “The Japanese underworld only recognises ancient old geezers as clan heads. He's about half a century too early.”
“Secondly, money reigns supreme for you guys,” Sing leaned back into the plush chair, the folder nonchalantly chucked back onto the mahogany desk, the papers within skidding out of place. “You wouldn't pay my usual commission to off insignificant small fry. You're clearly withholding some information from me here.”
“Clever. No wonder you're the top agent in your sector-- after Shorter of course.”
Goddammit he's not here to play mind games. Sing sighed. “The more information I have, the faster I get the job done.”
“Okumura himself is actually not the main problem. However, taking him out is the easiest solution.”
“What’s the main problem then?”
“Unfortunately, he’s somehow hired a troublesome bodyguard-- a top agent gone rogue,” Wang Lung retorted.
Ah . There it was. This was the catch.
“He’s not only stolen a hundred and fifty million from several offshore accounts, but also downloaded confidential information from our servers that could easily be sold to the wrong people,” the older man added, one hand plucking another cigarette from his packet, the other using his lighter with a deafening click. The way the small flame emphasised the long shadows of his face spelled something ominous, nefarious.
“We highly suspect that this is per Okumura’s request. The money and information theft is regretful but the main issue is the kind of power Okumura has over the rogue agent. His disposal is your first priority, the money and information secondary. Considering the delicate situation, I'll even be appointing my own little brother as your quartermaster for this case.”
Ugh, a fucking supervisor. Fine, whatever. Sing grumbled. This better be a quick job.
“Who's the hired muscle I've got to deal with then?”
Wang Lung threw another file across the table, the folder unnervingly bare. Sing barely contained his gasp when he flipped it open.
Acidic green eyes glared back at him.
Forget killed, Sing was being sent to slaughter .
---
MONTE CARLO, MONACO
“I'm so boooooored.”
((Shut up and focus.))
“Are you alright sir?” the bartender at the mansion’s mini bar looked puzzled, his hands passing Sing’s second martini for the evening. “We do have a pool table downstairs.”
“Nah, not a pool guy. Also, it probably won't help my headache,” Sing took a sip of his martini, his fingers playing with the olive garnish. “It has the most annoying voice.”
((Fuck you too Yasha. You're stuck with this headache until you actually do something to find Crow or Lynx.))
“--it's really sucks even though you want it to go away--”
((Yasha. Two o'clock. The man in the pinstripes talking to the ambassador. I can't find him on the guest list.))
Sing immediately spotted him-- a brunette in deep conversation with the guest of honour, donning a bespoke royal blue pinstripe suit and a plate of canapés in his hand. He was about Ash’s height, but that was all he could gather at this distance.
“Man if my headache is wrong I'm gonna be causing an international scene I tell ya that,” Sing grumbled to himself, picking up his own plate of food from the bar counter and making his way to the man as casually as he could, not wanting to spook him.
He knew he's got the right guy when the man stilled and started walking away without even turning his head towards him.
Sing picked up the pace, starting to use a bit of aggression to push the guests out of the way. They all glared at him, huffing and scoffing. This was his first mistake.
Ash had turned back and started yelling, pointing frantically at him.
“Un flingue! Un flingue! Cet homme est dangereux!”
“Huh?” His French wasn't the best but he could guess just by how the guests started screaming and dispersing, while the security guards proceeded to close in on him.
((They think you’re a shooter! Get out of there now!))
“No I’m not!” Sing helplessly watched as Ash took advantage of the anarchy, taking off to Eastern Wing of the building while he had to dodge the guards’ attempts to capture him. “Non! Non! je ne suis pas-- dammit I don't have time for this! ”
((I lost visual! He found me and overrode my signal, fuck--))
“Outside!” Sing smashed his plate against a guard before running towards Ash’s direction, the commotion a distant noise echoing off the walls. He ran through twisting hallways and dark corridors, up staircases and down rubbish chutes, until he'd manage to corner him into one of the drawing rooms. Sing finally took out the small pistol hidden in his suit, the click of safety off loud in his ears. “Get outside-”
Two gunshots were fired the moment he stepped in. One taking the gun right off his hands, the other whizzing right past his ear.
A Wesson and Smith glinted in the lowlight, just like in the urban legends. The man himself, however, was more beautiful that he could have ever imagined; his eyes were colder than ice, even behind hazel contact lenses.
So this was the king of the underworld. Our very own Hades.
“Throw out your earpiece.”
((Yasha. Yasha don’t--))
Click click.
((Yasha!))
“Bye moon moon, I'll catch you later,” and with that he used his uninjured hand to chuck the earpiece onto the floor. Ash immediately destroyed said device with the crack of a bullet, right before it could even hit the velvet carpet. Dead accuracy.
Fucking hell he's intimidating as fuck . Sing slowly raised his hands in defence, his eyes ever wary of the gun pointed right at him.
“You're one of Shorter’s boys aren't you? The Soo-Ling kid.”
Sing narrowed his eyes at the mention of his mentor and his real name. “What's it to you?”
“Stay away from the Lees, they're bad news,” Ash, to his surprise, lowered his gun, his face contemplative. “Shorter would never send one of his own, so I'm doing him a solid. Now scram. I don't ever want to see your ugly mug again.”
“Not until you hand over Okumura--”
The crack of another warning shot, this time grazing his shoulder. Within the split second he took to recover from the shock, Ash had already jumped out the window.
Sing scrambled to said window, only to find himself being warned by a bullet yet again. The last thing he saw was Ash pointing a gun at him through the passenger window of a sleek maroon Aston Martin, with the bartender from before in the driver’s seat.
The squealing of tires as the pair escaped just added more salt to his wounded pride.
---
“Please tell me Okumura wasn’t the bartender underneath a mask.”
“Okumura wasn’t even at the party. Ash has more connections than we initially thought-- we’re definitely changing informants.”
“Thank fuck. My pride could not take any more of a hit. So, am I on the interpol most wanted list yet?”
“You wish. Ash managed to destroy all footage from the party. Plus, the press couldn't care less. They’re on a roll with the several leaked videos of their beloved ambassador participating in a large-scale cocaine trafficking ring.”
“Ah.”
---
MILAN, ITALY
“You know we could finish this job a lot easier if I could actually contact Shorter--”
“No,” Yut Lung looked incredibly pretentious with his hotel bathrobe and sunglasses inside the hotel, typing on his laptop at the end of the bed. Even so, Sing’s got to admit that he’s the best quartermaster he’s ever had, especially for a Lee-- but that didn’t mean he’d trust a snake. Yut Lung was just, well, an efficient snake .
Sing sighed, cleaning the last of his knives and placing them back into the case. He glared at Yut Lung again. “You want information on how to find Ash Lynx or not?”
“You want to put Shorter on my brothers’ shit list or not?” the snake nonchalantly replied, his Versace designer sunglasses still resting firmly on his sharp nose bridge. “You know your boss well enough-- if you told him, would he go against his totalitarian superiors, or help out one of his fugitive friends? Wang Lung chose you because you couldn’t give less of a shit about Ash Lynx’s notoriety if it meant helping out Chinatown.”
“So you’re self aware-- that the Lees, you included , are a bunch of massive assholes.”
“You just got that?” Yut Lung scoffed, his eyes never leaving the computer screen. “You can’t get this rich and powerful just by being nice. Welcome to the real world boy wonder. And pack your bags, I just found gas station footage of the Aston Martin driving down the SR2 towards Rome. Okumura’s there.”
Ugh. Sing closed his eyes, heaving another sigh as he slumped into the hotel sofa.
---
VATICAN CITY - ROME, ITALY
“Even if Okumura did show up,” Sing grumbled, the gelato in his hand already melting, a fine representation of his souring mood. His gaze was fixated on the large Japanese tour group that were posing in front of St. Peter’s Basilica, their chatter a constant white noise. “There are like, millions of tourists waddling about. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack. And I don’t know about you, but I have a strict code of not harming civilians.”
“You’re an idiot for thinking you can do that in our line of business,” Yut Lung was on his phone, seemingly looking through his camera gallery, except each thumbnail was actually live feed from every street camera within a two kilometre radius. “Besides, you’re meant to be one of our best sharpshooters-- just don’t shoot the wrong people.”
“Easier said than done asshole.”
“I know,” Yut Lung quipped, taking out his selfie stick, or maybe his high powered satellite stick-- Yut Lung had too many gadgets for Sing to properly keep track. “I just felt like telling you.”
“ Wow thanks. This is brand new information,” his tone was definitely sardonic in nature, but there was a hint of amusement that had escaped along with it. He didn’t dwell on it too much, crumpling his finished gelato cup in one hand with a satisfying scrunch and shooting it straight into the bin nearby.
“Hey. I’m taking a bathroom break,” he dusted his khaki shorts as he stood, giving his back a good stretch. “If I hear your voice one time I think I might just jump into the fountain over there and swim with the coins. Make sure you don’t get swept away by the aunty tourists while I'm gone-- they’re pretty fierce.”
Yut Lung responded only with his middle finger directed to his person, in the holy land of Vatican City no less. Sing couldn’t help but laugh when he heard a scandalised gasp from one of the middle-aged tourist ladies nearby.
---
“Wow, it’s so huge! This whole thing is a shrine?”
“A Catholic shrine yeah. Most people call them churches. You’ve got loads of shrines back home though, don’t you sweetheart?”
“Yes! Izumo Taisha is the most ancient one- oh! A wishing fountain! Let’s go make a wish As-uh, Chris!”
“But this isn’t the Trevi fountain- oh alright alright! Don’t look at me like that baby. Just keep your cap on, and stay close.”
---
I pray for his happiness and health. Just this. Please.
---
ROME, ITALY
09:15
“Wow,” Sing whistled, surveying the extravagant hotel lobby, all glittering chandeliers and velvet carpet. “They've even got an indoor fountain bigger than my apartment. Now that's too fucking much. Okumura sure knows how to live large.”
((It's popular amongst politicians and celebrities, which means it also houses some top of the art security-- bio-scans, key cards reissued daily, black ops security, the list goes on.))
“But no metal detectors or x rays at the door? Flawed design but I ain’t complaining,” the receptionist at the desk didn't seem too worried about it either, their eyes bored when they gave him a once over, attention finally landing on the postal company logo on his breast pocket.
They ducked behind the counter, only reappearing with a small trolley a good while after. “Letters in the top box. Parcels go on the shelves.”
Sing placed his dud letters and two parcels as planned, thanking the receptionist and getting them to sign fake papers before making a quick retreat.
---
23:57
The wind was howling, declaring her presence, a formidable force of nature. At seventy floors up on the rooftop of a neighbouring skyscraper, she was even more of a beast, threatening to blow him right off, but he knew her well enough that she favoured him above the rest.
((Yasha.))
“Don't sound so scared moon moon, I ain't gonna fall,” the harness on his black turtleneck a familiar weight. “They don't call me the wind dragon for nothing.”
((Stop calling me moon moon. And as if I would care for you facing the consequences of your own stupidity. Just don't mess this up. This is a one in a million chance. I can actually see Crow in his room, curtains wide open even. If only it were less windy and within snipable distance.))
“Lynx wouldn't make such a rookie mistake,” Sing quipped, his fingerless gloves gripping the rope of the grappling hook, testing its strength. “You ready?”
((Do I have a choice? Disabling window pressure sensors in three, two, one--))
The loud explosion from the ground floor was unmistakable. Hopefully it happened in the unmanned mail room and not at reception.
Regardless, it did its job, if Yut Lung’s affirmations that the majority of hotel security had been delegated to the ground floor were anything to go by. Now Sing just had to deal with Okumura’s personal bodyguards.
He took off.
Grappling hook. Edge of wall. Free fall .
---
((You’ve wasted way too much time!))
“Hey I scaled it in record time!” Sing loaded his rifle with a loud click, his steps echoing as he descended down the stairwell. “The glass was just a bitch to cut! I had to improvise!”
((You better thank your fucking stars that Crow’s still on the sixty-seventh floor. But he’s got two armed bodyguards, and the devil is coming up on the fifty-second, so you better make the hit before he finds you.))
“Yeah I got it,” there was shiver that ran down his spine when he thought back to those cold jade eyes. He wasn't in any hurry to face those again. Sing sprinted into the luxurious hallway, his rifle in position. “Which room?”
((Not room. They're in the observatory restaurant-- they've shut off the power and I can't seem to remotely turn it on. Be careful.))
Sing took a breath. In, out, and then shuffled into the deserted dining area. It was eerie, when the curtains have been drawn shut, the patrons evacuated, and the only light within the huge restaurant was the ominous glow of the battery powered fish tanks, the movement of the fish unnerving in the stillness, the bubbles deafening in the silence.
Carefully, he took a pepper shaker and chucked it in mid air to divert their attention.
The gunfire started almost immediately.
There was one man with strawberry hair, his own rifle aimed at him behind the bar. The other bodyguard, a huge fella, had a pistol instead, attempting to drag Okumura from the kitchen towards the mini gallery. He fired a shot at them through the fish tanks before they could do so, the loud shattering causing them to take cover behind the columns, the broken lights leaving the area in total darkness.
Shooting blindly in the dark was the absolute worst . Sing kept his breathing steady, the tension in the silence thick and suffocating, and then--
“Kong! Are you okay?”
Sing’s eyes widened in surprise at the soft wispy voice. It felt so familiar, yet he couldnt put a finger on it.
Nevertheless, he either was one of those yappy arrogant mafia types, or a huge fucking idiot .
Sing aimed at the direction of Okumura’s voice.
But of course, the devil works harder.
The second before he pulled the trigger, he got his hand shot in the same fucking place again.
“Boss!”
Sing let out a string of colourful expletives under his breath, zig zagging his way through the tables and chairs to avoid Ash’s wrath. He had no idea how Ash was still possibly aiming at him in the darkened room but he sure wasn't going to stay in one place to find out.
“Skipper’s here!” the ferocity and animosity in his growl was only exacerbated by the sound of reloading bullets. “Go!”
Sing swore under his breath when all three of Okumura’s protectors shot at him while the guy himself was being shovelled towards the entrance.
“Come on Eiji,” the large bodyguard yelled. “We've got to vamoose, the police are gonna-”
“Ash!” Sing could never have imagined that his name could pull on his heartstrings this much-- the tone Okumura had was too vulnerable and pleading for his liking. “Ash, please-”
“Go!”
“Moon moon, they're escaping!” man it was hard to use his non-dominant hand in a gunfight-- his accuracy was pretty abysmal, but it kept the blonde busy enough, his normally light footsteps now thundering. “I need a ride out!
((That’s going to do absolutely nothing-- they're going to the roof.))
“Then shoot their chopper down!”
((Which one? The media, police and medics all have their own and they’re all on the roof right now-- they've probably stolen a legitimate commercial helicopter because I can’t ID them. You want to go back on your civilian code of conduct thing? Because the option is there Yasha; I have an anti-aircraft missile launcher and it’s great at shooting multiples.))
“Ugh!” the rifle in his hands was definitely going to run out of bullets soon. This mission was going to be a bust and it was all because Ash came in, guns blazing and unparalleled abilities accompanying his nightmarish presence.
((You can’t kill the Lynx-- you know this. That’s why we were aiming for Crow. Don’t be stupid and die just because your pride was slighted. As your quartermaster and your fucking boss I say we’re making a tactical retreat right now.))
Sing cursed out loud one last time before scurrying back to the entrance, leaving Ash as the last survivor of the darkness.
---
EN ROUTE TO ORIKUM, ALBANIA
“Hey moon moon,” Okumura’s woeful plea now making its rounds at the back of Sing’s mind. “Okumura is just Ash’s client yeah? That's all?”
“The only way to take down Ash Lynx is through Okumura,” Yut Lung was aggressively typing at his laptop again, his eye bags prominent and his tea long cold. Apparently another business partner of the Lees was facing a huge scandal-- this time involving an Italian pharmaceutical company and human test subjects. His brothers were making him multitask.
“You didn't answer my question.”
“I definitely did. Don't overthink it.”
---
???, ADRIATIC SEA
“Hey boss, I know you’re gonna deck me for this but I gotta say it: Eiji isn't doing too hot. He’s trying his best but he ain't coping well.”
“I know. God I know.”
---
ATHENS, GREECE
“The place is called Tartarus? You're kidding-- you’re saying I finally get to see what hell looks like?”
“Well, a bunch of drunk idiots grinding on every available surface sounds like hell to me.”
---
“Have you seen this man?” he raised the polaroid to the bartender’s face, her eyes subsequently squinting at Okumura’s photo. “I'm trying to meet up with a friend of his, but he dyes his hair alot so most people don't recognise him.”
“Yeah actually,” the lady behind the bar loudly replied, trying to beat the overbearing bass of the music. “He went upstairs to freshen up. You looking for his boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend? I mean-”Sing cleared his throat, recollecting himself. “Really? They got together? Finally! What did he look like-- are we talking about the same guy?”
“He’s currently blonde if you wanna know. Tall with green eyes, looked like one of them Hollywood types, real cold and otherworldly.”
“Yep,” he heaved, jade eyes with murderous intent flashing across his mind-- he tried not to let the fear get to his head. “That's him.”
“Unfortunately, I think they might have had a fight. One second they were all cutesy then a second later your friend stormed off to the other side of our joint. He looked like he was gonna breathe fire.”
“Yeah he does that,” Sing mumbled under his breath, feeling the metal of his gun strapped to his thigh getting colder by the minute, his heart thundering in his chest at the thought of the Lynx prowling about. “Hey uh, I'm actually here to surprise them with a visit, but I might do that when they’ve cooled down a bit. If you could keep me being here a secret, I'd really appreciate it.”
“Sure, anything else?”
“Anyone with the guy upstairs? I might call some friends to take him back if he's feeling unwell.”
“Nah,” the bartender sighed, her eyes turned to the padded insulation of the upper floor. “The poor guy’s alone.”
---
“Moon moon I'm going up.”
“Hello?”
“God whatever I don't have time for this-”
---
It was true. Eiji Okumura was really all alone-- no bodyguards, no Ash-- just a guy crouched in the corner with his face buried in his arms, a pathetic sight juxtaposed to the party goers having the time of their lives. Sing could just easily shuffle up to him and use one of his knives instead of making a scene with his gun, less casualties, less cleanup. Now he just needed to get past the crowd.
And of course Okumura had to look up and recognise him the moment he decided to not use his gun. Of course Okumura had his own bloody gun-
He reached for his own weapon at the same time, adopting the same stance as Okumura. The crowd had started screaming and dispersing the moment someone shouted about the presence of said guns.
He felt the cold sweat forming at his temple, his eyes never leaving Okumura.
But he did at least let his eyes travel to the weapon in his hands.
It could have been the darkness of the nightclub, the adrenaline, the recently absurd train of thoughts he'd been having but-
Sing has taken apart thousands of standard automatics in his life, cleaned them from the inside out. If he could bet on one thing, it would be this.
Sing took the shot.
The bullet landed off-centre.
But only because another guy suddenly materialised and shoved Okumura to the side, giving enough inches for the bullet to miss his heart completely. However, he still managed to shoot him in the chest.
Sing’s head was spinning at the thought of how he could have killed him just like that, after everything.
Okumura fell over like a limp doll, breathing laboured. Despite being so close, Sing couldn’t finish the job. He had found himself in a standoff once again-- this time the stranger actually knew how to use the weapon in his hands; he stood protectively in front of Eiji, his face enraged.
“Fuck! Eiji! Stay with me! Ei-chan! ”
Ei-chan. Eiji Okumura. Ei-chan . The names echoed in his head. God, Sing was so so sick of the dejavu.
“...Sorry Alex,” the man in question whined painfully behind him, his eyes then looking past his person. “M’sorry, Ash-”
Oh. Oh shit. Sing didn’t dare turn around, his gun still trained at the man bleeding out on the ground. This was the only leverage he had.
“Boss,” Alex looked like he finally allowed himself to panic, his tone frantic. “Eiji h-he's been shot. He needs immediate medical attention-”
“Sing Soo-Ling,” the Lynx interrupted, saying his name like a curse, enunciating every syllable, the words seething and dripping with poison. ”Drop your gun, or the Lee brother gets it.”
“Don't fuck with me-”
“Sing,” the familiar impassive voice drawled, causing Sing to swear under his breath again.
Out of all the times Ash could found the snake, it just had to be now . Sing couldn’t see him, but he sounded way too calm for someone who was probably being held hostage.
“I said,” the click of the safety off accompanying his threat. “Drop the fucking gun Sing.”
“Sing, don't you dare. They’ll shoot you anyway-”
“You shut the fuck up-”
“Let's make a deal,” Sing took in Alex’s panic, remembering the connotations provided by the bartender, and how the feeling in his gut only intensified when he saw the gun in Okumura’s hand.
If he was wrong, then a lot of people are going to die tonight.
If he was right, well-
“No. You drop your gun,” Ash sounded livid at this point. “No fucking negotiations.”
“I can shoot Okumura right now, ” he tried to sound threatening, but it came out like a wheeze. God he's actually done it. He's really channeling that big dumbass energy Shorter was always accusing him of.
“You can immediately take Okumura to treatment if you give me the Lee, or-” Sing had to physically pause, gulping as he stepped on the toes of undoubtedly one of the most dangerous mercenaries in the world. “-or I can wait it out as he slowly bleeds out, suffering until he dies a horrible gruesome death.”
“And,” Sing continued, finally letting the threat seep into his words. “It will be all because of you .”
There was a gasp behind him-- it sounded like Yut Lung but he wasn't sure. On the other hand, he could see Alex immediately gaping in response.
“ You ,” Alex hissed, his grip on the handle tightening. “You sick son of a bitch-”
“Alex.”
The man looked dumbstruck. Sing could only imagine the kind of face Ash was making right now. “S-Sorry boss.”
“Alright Soo-Ling,” the tone Ash took on was indescribable. It shook him to his very core. “My associate is going to pick Okumura up and leave through the door. Only, and only then, will I release Lee Yut Lung. Any funny business and I will shoot without hesitation.”
Sing agreed, watching Alex carefully pick up Eiji, his gun slowly trailing after the pair waddling towards the exit. Soon enough he was fully turned around, and was met with the most terrifying glare.
Ash had his gun pointed to Yut Lung’s temple, the latter looking at Sing like he was some foreign alien.
The moment Eiji was out of sight, Ash immediately kicked Yut Lung towards him, gun out. Sing was a split second too late to avoid casualties, but he could at least save Yut Lung from getting shot in the back-
---
“You idiot! You absolute fucking fool-”
“Oh my god shut up. Let me enjoy this soft ass hotel bed in peace. If I didn't have a bullet in my shoulder I would have bitch slapped you into next century. Don't make me regret saving your life.”
“... do you?”
“No? What the fuck? What's with that look-”
---
LARISSA, GREECE
“Dr. Meredith said he's got a fifty-fifty chance. You sure you don't want to see him?”
“Ash?”