The Next Day - Tòumíng's Villa
Tòumíng was passed out on his bed, face-down in the pillows, drool pooling slightly on the fabric. His broken bones had healed significantly overnight thanks to Metabolic Healing working passively while he slept, though they still ached dully.
He woke to the sensation of weight on top of him.
His eyes opened slowly, vision adjusting to the morning light filtering through the curtains, and he found himself staring directly into Měi Nán's face.
Měi Nán was straddling him, propped up on his hands, wearing what looked like one of Tòumíng's oversized t-shirts and not much else, a cheeky smile playing across his lips.
"Mornin', handsome~"
Tòumíng didn't really react beyond blinking a few times. "Why are you on top of me like this?"
Měi Nán fake-pouted, his bottom lip jutting out dramatically. "Tòumíng is sooo cruel! We've known each other for weeks now and he doesn't even give me a good morning kiss? How heartbreaking!"
Tòumíng's brain, still foggy from sleep and painkillers, processed this statement with his usual lack of social awareness. "Isn't kissing only reserved for lovers?"
Měi Nán chuckled, the sound low and amused. "We basically are lovers, baby."
"Nuh-uh. I'm not gay."
Měi Nán's expression became mockingly accepting, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh yeah, suuuure. Totally not gay. The guy who watches exclusively femboy porn, lives with a male escort, and has never shown interest in a single woman. Definitely straight."
Tòumíng's face flushed red. "Yeah! Exactly! See, you get it!"
He grabbed Měi Nán by the waist, both hands gripping firmly, and Měi Nán's entire body went rigid.
"EEP!"
Měi Nán's internal thoughts immediately went into overdrive, rapid-fire panic mixed with hope and confusion.
Oh my god is he about to FINALLY do it? The thing? THAT thing?! This is the first time he's grabbed me like this—with both hands on my waist like that—he must be trying to initiate something right?! Sex?! Is he finally going to—NO wait that's not it. I mean, it's Tòumíng. He's stupidly gay AND straight at the same time, existing in some quantum superposition of sexuality that shouldn't be possible. He's probably just doing something completely innocent and my horny brain is reading too much into it. But I wouldn't mind sex! Obviously! I mean who would mind?! He's cute and built and—
His internal panic was abruptly stopped when Tòumíng simply picked him up—lifting Měi Nán's entire body weight effortlessly with his enhanced strength—and placed him on the bed beside him.
"I'm about to order food. You want some?"
Měi Nán stared at him, processing the complete anticlimax of what had just happened. Then a mischievous smile crossed his face.
"I want something big... juicy... and thick."
His voice carried obvious innuendo, his eyes locked on Tòumíng's face, waiting for the reaction.
Tòumíng's face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. "HOTDOGS IT IS!"
He grabbed his ridiculously overpowered phone and started browsing food delivery apps, completely missing the sexual implication.
Měi Nán was thoroughly dumbfounded. He just lay there, pouting, staring at the ceiling, wondering how someone could be THIS oblivious.
One Hour Later
They were eating hotdogs, actual hotdogs, the kind you got from street vendors, while Tòumíng watched the final episode of Breaking Bad on the living room TV.
He was SOBBING. Full-on tears streaming down his face, his voice choked with emotion as Walter White's story reached its conclusion.
"It's so beautiful," he gasped between sobs. "He did it all for his family!"
Měi Nán was completely lost, chewing his hotdog while trying to follow the plot. "So... the science teacher sells crystal meth with his student?"
Tòumíng nodded vigorously, his eyes still teary and red. "It's SO MUCH MORE than that! It's about legacy! Mortality! The American Dream turned nightmare! The corruption of good intentions! The—"
"Okay, okay, I get it. Very deep. Much symbolism."
Měi Nán rested his head on Tòumíng's shoulder, getting comfortable—
And immediately got hit with the stench of unwashed body. Minimum three days without showering. Maybe four.
He wrinkled his nose but didn't move away.
Tòumíng, suddenly aware of his own smell, felt embarrassment flood through him.
"I should... shower. Right. That's a thing humans do."
He stood up abruptly and headed upstairs.
Měi Nán called after him with exaggerated flirtation, "Want company in the shower? I could wash your back~ And your front~ And everything in between~"
"Nah, I'm fine!"
Měi Nán's expression dropped immediately, his playful smile fading into genuine frustration. He muttered under his breath, "How the fuck is he STILL not getting it?"
Bathroom
Tòumíng stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away days of accumulated grime, sweat, blood, and general filth from his various near-death experiences.
He did regular shower things—shampooed his hair, soaped his body, stood under the spray and contemplated his life choices.
When he stepped out and grabbed a towel, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.
He flexed slightly—because of course he did, that's what mirrors were for—checking his abs in that way that dumb gym bros do.
Then he noticed something.
"MY SCARS ARE GONE!"
All of them. Every single scar he'd accumulated over nineteen years of hard living, the burn mark from a mine accident when he was fifteen, the knife scar on his ribs from a mugging attempt, the various small cuts and marks from manual labor—completely gone.
His skin was perfect. Smooth. Unmarked.
"CUPID! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY SCARS?!"
Cupid's voice came through, patient but slightly exasperated. "No shit your scars are gone. You got your entire skin burned off in an explosion and I had to regenerate your ENTIRE EPIDERMIS from scratch. Did you think I was going to rebuild your scars too? That would be stupid and inefficient. You got a complete skin refresh. You should be thanking me."
Tòumíng stared at his reflection, running his hands over his unmarked torso. "Huh. I guess that makes sense."
He sighed and stepped out of the bathroom, heading to his bedroom to get dressed.
He looked through his closet, and picked a black t-shirt and sweatpants because he couldn't fashion for shit and comfort was more important than style.
He walked downstairs, still toweling his hair dry.
"Měi, you can eat whatever you want from the kitchen. But do NOT touch the limited edition Breaking Bad ice cream in the freezer. That's sacred."
Měi Nán rolled his eyes from where he was lounging on the couch. "Don't worry, I don't want your crappy mint-flavored 'crystal meth' ice cream anyway."
"Suite yourself."
Tòumíng grabbed his phone and keys. "I'm heading out to meet Ghost Claw at her base. Probably gonna be a few hours."
Měi Nán perked up. "Can I come?"
"They don't allow most external people. Security thing."
Měi Nán rolled his eyes again. "Fine. Can I bring some friends over then?"
"Yeah, sure. Just make sure they don't touch the ice cream."
"I KNOW. THE ICE CREAM IS SACRED. I GET IT."
Tòumíng walked out of the villa, closing the door behind him, and immediately pulled out his phone to call Ghost Claw.
She answered on the second ring. "How can I help you?"
"Hey, could I get a ride to base? I don't have my bike anymore since it's at the bottom of the lake and—"
"That's Eric's job, not mine."
She hung up.
Tòumíng stared at his phone, then sighed and called Eric.
Eric answered with his distinctive Southern drawl. "Yo."
"Can you give me a ride to base?"
"Yeah, sure thing, buddy. I'm at the lake right now—maybe a five-minute walk from your villa. Come meet me and we'll head over."
"Sounds good."
Tòumíng started walking toward the lake, following the path through the villa complex's landscaped grounds.
In the Bushes - 50 Feet Away
Yu Lin crouched in ornamental shrubbery, completely concealed, a directional microphone aimed at Tòumíng to pick up his phone conversation.
His equipment was top-tier—the kind of surveillance gear that cost more than most people's cars. He'd been here since 6 AM, watching the villa, mapping Tòumíng's routine.
He'd heard the entire conversation. Knew Tòumíng was leaving. Knew the associate—Měi Nán—would be alone in the villa with friends.
Perfect opportunity.
Yu Lin grinned, his professional tracker instincts lighting up with the thrill of a plan coming together.
"Jackpot," he whispered to himself.