The water hit him like it always did—icy, sharp, unrelenting. But this time, Wang didn't flinch.
He stood there under the cold stream in total silence, fists clenched, eyes blank. The tiny bathroom around him was as dingy as ever—cracked tiles, rusty faucets, mold creeping up the corners. A half-empty shampoo bottle sat sideways in a broken wire rack, and the curtain was a torn plastic sheet hanging from bent coat hangers.
But none of it registered.
His thoughts were somewhere else. Back in that suffocating red-lit room. Back in the haze of cigar smoke and whores. Back at the table where Big Chungus had dropped a fucking Melbourne Citizenship ID in front of him like it was a poker chip.
One name. One bullet. One kill.
Red Beard.
Wang closed his eyes, letting the cold water pound against his face. It didn't bother him. It couldn't. The ice numbed his skin, but it was the inside that felt frozen.
He remembered the way Chungus smiled when he said it. Like it wasn't a request—it was fate. This is who you are. A killer.And the worst part?
It wasn't the blood that bothered Wang.
It was the deal. The fact that he was considering it.
His thoughts were a storm:If I kill this guy, I'm free.Melbourne.A new name.A real bed. Clean food. Safety.But at what cost?
A sudden voice broke through the mental fog.
"You alright in there?"
Cass.
Her voice was lazy, but laced with concern. Muted through the thin apartment walls.
Wang blinked. Took a breath.
Then reached over and turned the knob. The pipes groaned. The water cut off with a wheeze.
He stepped out, grabbed a faded towel, and dried off in the cold air. He didn't even feel it.
Minutes later, he walked out in just the towel, water dripping from his hair, and sat down heavily on the couch beside her.
Cass didn't look at him right away. She was sprawled out in her usual underwear—a black bra, low-cut panties, one leg draped over the side of the couch. A can of half-warm beer sat in her left hand, a lit smoke in the right. Her blonde hair was messy, tangled from sleep or laziness. A bandage peeked out from under her ribs where she'd taken a graze in a fight weeks back.
Wang sat in silence, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor.
Cass flicked her ash into an empty tin can.
"You good?" she asked again, more quietly now.
He didn't answer.
A minute passed.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"Cass…" he said quietly. "You ever killed anyone?"
She didn't respond at first.
Instead, she took a long, slow drag from her smoke, held it, then exhaled like she was blowing away a memory. She tapped the ash again, then let the cigarette burn out in the beer can.
"Life is cheap here," she said, staring ahead, voice flat. "And you gotta make a buck."
Wang turned his head to look at her.
She still wasn't looking at him. Her gaze was distant. Her tone was... empty. No remorse. No pride. Just a statement of fact. Like telling someone the sun rises in the east.
"First time was a bounty," she added after a pause. "Guy skipped out on a job, tried to hide in a native village. Had a kid with him. Didn't matter."
Wang swallowed.
"Did it fuck you up?"
Cass finally looked at him. Her blue eyes weren't soft. They weren't hard, either. Just tired.
"Only the first week," she said. "Then you move on. Or you die thinking about it."
The room went quiet again.
Wang stared at the peeling wallpaper across from them. The hum of the broken fridge in the kitchenette buzzed faintly behind them. A dog barked outside in the distance. Somewhere, someone yelled drunkenly in the alleyway.
He felt the cold from the shower still clinging to his skin.
"She didn't even blink," Wang thought. "Not once."
He clenched the towel around his waist a little tighter.
Cass leaned back again, raising her can and taking a lazy sip.
"Why?" she asked finally, glancing sideways. "You thinking about it?"
Wang didn't answer.
But he didn't have to.
Cass raised an eyebrow. "That fat fuck offer you something?"
He nodded.
She scoffed. "Figures."
Another silence. This one heavier.
She sighed and set the can down with a clink.
"Listen," she said, voice lower now. "Out here? You don't get to be a good guy. That ship's gone. Got torpedoed somewhere off the fuckin' coast of real life."
She looked at him dead-on.
"You wanna live? You do what you gotta do. You don't like it. You don't brag about it. But you do it. Then you get the hell out before it eats you."
Wang looked back at her. Her face. Her scars. Her worn-down eyes. The cigarette burns on her fingers. The silence in her voice.
She wasn't just saying it.
She was living it.
He nodded, slowly.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Guess I just needed to hear it out loud."
Cass cracked the ghost of a smile. "You're welcome, Jackie fuckin' Chang."
He exhaled. A bitter laugh escaped him.
They sat in silence again for a while.
Wang didn't say another word.
But inside?
A part of him had already made the decision.
Q: Do you think Wang will take the deal?