I saw a shadow moving with lightning speed before I could even turn to see who it was. Suddenly... Ping! A silenced bullet pierced the paper coffee cup in my hand.
The scalding coffee splashed all over my hand and clothes, and the cup slipped, hitting the ground with a hollow thud.
I didn't even flinch. For a moment, I stared at the dark stain on my clothes and the liquid spreading under my feet with cold indifference. Then, I turned slowly; my instinct already knew exactly who had pulled the trigger.
Ming panicked. He drew his gun in a flash, scanning the darkness for the source of the shot. I reached out, pressing my hand firmly over his, forcing the barrel down toward his pocket—a silent command to put it away.
"Put your weapon back, Ming," I said calmly. "He isn't an enemy. It was just... a signal for me."
Out of the shadows emerged a young man dressed in modern Japanese street style—all black. His hair hung low over his eyes, and he was flipping a silver coin between his fingers with terrifying dexterity.
"Ah, Satro," I muttered. "Why are you in Korea? Have the targets in Tokyo run dry?"
Satro smiled coldly, tossing the coin high into the air before catching it with a snap. "Master Tian Long is worried. He said you've started to prefer the taste of Korean coffee over the taste of the hunt."
I glanced at Ming from the corner of my eye. His face was a storm of confusion and suppressed rage. His knuckles were white as he gripped his holster, his eyes darting between me and this stranger as if he were seeing a side of me that didn't belong to the girl who just sat with him minutes ago.
"Who is he?" Ming demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "And why did he fire?"
I turned to him, my expression unreadable. "An old friend. Don't worry, Ming. That shot was just for show. We'll talk later."
Without giving him a chance to argue, I took Satro's hand and we vanished into the darkness, leaving Ming standing alone in the cold, his silhouette looking smaller and more abandoned under the dim streetlights.
"Why did my father send you?" I asked as soon as we were out of earshot.
"He's worried about his daughter," Satro replied. "He sees her getting closer to the police instead of focusing on the prey."
"This is madness," I hissed. "I just have targets I need to reach."
"And what are these targets that require you to drink coffee with a detective?" Satro leaned in close to my ear, his breath cold against my skin. "Watch your steps, S. Because what happens next won't please either of us."
He looked at me with a gaze full of challenge, a pale, bitter smile etched on his lips.
"Don't look at me like that," I snapped. "Or I'll gouge your eyes out."
He ignored me completely, turning his back and disappearing into the gloom. I stood there, watching his shadow fade away, feeling the weight of the world crashing back down.
Later that night...
Satro (speaking into a secure line): "Sir... I believe we need to watch her very closely from now on. Something is wrong. She's changing."