Tòumíng leaned against the cold concrete wall of the warehouse corridor, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. His mind was racing, spiraling, trying to piece together the impossible puzzle that Jin Chan had just dropped in his lap.
Jin Chan knew about him. Not just his name, not just his face, but everything. The gem smuggling. The Ice Queen connection. The debt. The personal details that should have been impossible for anyone outside his inner circle to know.
Red flag number one. Red flag number one million.
How? Who? Why the fuck?
Was he being watched? Had someone been following him this whole time, reporting every move back to Jin Chan? The thought made his skin crawl, made him want to look over his shoulder, made him feel exposed and vulnerable in a way he hadn't felt since the days when Hǔtān's men would show up at his door unannounced.
He pulled out his brick phone, the ridiculously overpowered device Think Tink The Tinkerer had given him and dialed Ghost Claw's number. She picked up on the first ring, her voice sharp and alert.
"What's wrong?"
Tòumíng took a breath, trying to steady himself. "Jin Chan knows about me. He knows about the Ice Queen. He knows about the debt. He knows everything."
Silence on the other end. Then Ghost Claw's voice, low and controlled: "Explain."
Tòumíng did. He told her about the phone call, about Jin Chan's warm, friendly voice, about the way he'd casually dropped details that should have been impossible for him to know. He told her about the invitation to the mansion, about the trap that was obviously waiting for him.
"The Ice Queen said she hasn't been able to get close to Jin Chan," Tòumíng finished, his voice tight. "She said he's refused every invitation, every non-aggression pact, every attempt at establishing a working relationship. So how does he know about me? How does he know about HER?"
Ghost Claw's voice was quiet, grim. "Which means there's a mole in the Ice Queen's operation. Someone feeding information to Jin Chan."
"A mole?"
"Most likely a Black Hawk member. The Ice Queen only rents them, she doesn't own them. They're mercenaries. They work for whoever pays them. It wouldn't be difficult for Jin Chan to buy one of them off, or to have had one planted there from the beginning."
Tòumíng's stomach dropped. A mole. Someone inside the Ice Queen's organization, reporting everything back to Jin Chan. That explained how he knew about the gem smuggling, about the debt, about the Ice Queen's interest in Tòumíng.
But it didn't explain everything.
"Not just that," Tòumíng said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He knows about my personal life. He knows about the debt. He knows about the boat rental. He knows about—" He stopped, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. "He knows I've been spying on him. He knows I'm trying to stop him. That's why he invited me to the mansion. He's not trying to recruit me. He's trying to kill me."
Ghost Claw was silent for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was urgent, commanding. "It's not safe for you to drive back here. They could have people watching the roads, waiting for you. I'll send Eric to pick you up. He knows the back routes, the ones that aren't monitored. Stay put. Don't move. Don't do anything until he gets there."
"Okay," Tòumíng said, his voice hollow. "Okay. I'll wait."
The line went dead. Tòumíng lowered the phone, his hand shaking slightly, and stared at the wall in front of him. The concrete was cold and rough against his back, grounding him in the present, keeping him from spiraling completely.
Lù Jī was still beside him, her small hand still gripping his arm, her eyes wide with fear. She looked up at him, her voice trembling.
"What h-happened? Who was that? What's going on?"
Tòumíng didn't answer. Couldn't answer. His mind was still racing, still trying to piece together the fragments of information, still trying to figure out how Jin Chan had gotten so far ahead of him.
Inside his chest, Cupid's voice came through, quiet and serious. "Is it possible it's Yu Lin? The catboy from the honey trap?"
Tòumíng shook his head slowly. "I doubt it. Yu Lin seemed to work for Black Hawk, and by extension, the Ice Queen. If there's a mole, it's someone else. Someone Jin Chan planted himself. Someone who's been feeding him information from the beginning."
"But how would Jin Chan even know about you? You weren't on his radar until Ào Shǔ died. And that was only a few days ago."
"I don't know." Tòumíng pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to push back the headache that was forming. "I don't know anything. I just know that I'm in way over my head, and someone is playing games with me, and I don't know who or why or how to stop it."
He slid down the wall, his legs finally giving out, and sat on the cold concrete floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. Lù Jī sat down beside him, her shoulder pressed against his, her small hand still gripping his arm.
"It's going to be okay," she whispered, her voice carrying a conviction she clearly didn't feel. "We're going to be okay."
Tòumíng didn't respond. He just sat there, staring at the floor, waiting for Eric to arrive.
Then he heard it. The sound of boots. Heavy boots. Many boots. The kind of boots that belonged to people who weren't there to make friends.
He looked up.
Ten figures burst through the warehouse entrance, their weapons raised, their faces hidden behind tactical masks. They were carrying uzis, Tec-9s, semi-automatic rifles—the kind of firepower that meant business. They spread out in a coordinated pattern, covering every exit, every angle, every possible escape route.
"Nobody move!" one of them shouted, his voice muffled by the mask. "Nobody fucking move!"
Tòumíng didn't move. He was too tired to move. Too exhausted to panic. Too drained to feel anything but a bone-deep weariness that made the sight of ten armed men seem almost mundane.
Lù Jī let out a small squeak, her grip on his arm tightening painfully. The armed men were advancing, their weapons trained on them, their movements precise and professional.
Tòumíng just sighed. A long, heavy, completely exhausted sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his soul.
"You've got to be kidding me."