SA 9.1

Through the binoculars, Zachis and Pei Jun exchanged a brief hug, like old friends meeting after a long time. Two assistants stepped forward from behind, each holding a laptop, which they handed over to their respective parties. Zachis glanced at the screen and then clapped Pei Jun on the shoulder with a laugh, saying something that made Pei Jun gesture for several of his men to enter the storage warehouse.

“The rest is up to you,” Pei Jun said nonchalantly, brushing the dust off his sleeves. “On your turf, I don’t expect any hiccups.”

Fang Yang lowered the binoculars and stood up, lighting a cigarette.

Ye Jingsheng… still not here? He bit down on the cigarette, deep in thought. The possibility of Ye Jingsheng bailing out on him never even crossed his mind.

No matter how complicated their relationship was, Ye Jingsheng wasn’t the kind of person to go back on his word. At the very least, Fang Yang believed in that.

Time ticked by, second after second, as Pei Jun’s men finished inspecting and loading the goods into crates. Fang Yang stood, angrily grinding the cigarette underfoot, and pulled out his Desert Eagle.

“Ye Jingsheng, you’d better have a damn good explanation for this later!”

With a loud bang, the guard at the entrance dropped to the ground. Fang Yang braced himself on the dirt mound and leapt down, firing another shot mid-air. Chaos erupted as everyone in the warehouse reacted, guns aimed and closing in.

A rapid exchange of gunfire ensued. Fang Yang dove behind cover, quickly reloading his magazine with one hand. Damn it… Without Ye Jingsheng, how the hell am I supposed to destroy all these goods on my own?

The gunfire grew closer, bullets ricocheting dangerously near. Fang Yang gritted his teeth, ripping off his jacket and using it to entangle the nearest enemy’s head. With a sharp twist, he used the man as a human shield, only to realize, to his horror, that the firing didn’t stop. The attackers didn’t hesitate for a second.

Bang, bang! Several bullets tore through the shield’s body, drenching Fang Yang in blood. The lifeless corpse went limp in his hands.

These weren’t ordinary thugs! They were trained mercenaries, answering to no one but their master.

A sinking feeling crept over him.

He spat, discarding the corpse, and returned fire. Suddenly, a bullet whizzed past, striking the ground near his feet and kicking up a cloud of dust.

“The game’s over, Fang Yang.”

It was strange. Despite the cacophony of gunfire, that voice cut through with an almost mocking clarity, striking Fang Yang’s ears. He shot down another attacker and snarled, “You planned this, you bastard!”

Pei Jun stood on higher ground, his tone light and almost amused, like a spectator at a show. “Just a trap to lure the tiger into the cage, much like what you did to Zhong Qinglin back in Hong Kong.”

Fang Yang froze for a moment, panic flickering in his chest. Where was Ye Jingsheng? Could it be that he had taken part in this operation… and betrayed him?

There wasn’t time to dwell on the thought. Survival was his immediate concern. Dodging another spray of bullets, Fang Yang found himself bleeding from multiple wounds, his energy draining fast. He didn’t even have time to reload.

The lead mercenary cocked his gun with a sharp click and closed in, the dark muzzle aimed squarely at Fang Yang’s head. Fang Yang frowned deeply. He couldn’t die here. He had to live, had to make it back to see Chen Chen!

Suddenly, a hot, sticky liquid splattered over his face and body. The mercenary in front of him collapsed to the ground. For a second, Fang Yang was stunned. Then he heard a familiar, half-mocking voice.

“You can’t even handle this bastard? What a waste of twenty years in the underworld!”

Fang Yang didn’t know what surged through him in that moment. Relief? Gratitude? Surprise? Maybe all of them.

Ye Jingsheng hadn’t betrayed him after all. He had chosen to fight alongside him.

Ye Jingsheng leapt down gracefully, landing by Fang Yang’s side. Casting a quick glance over Fang Yang’s injuries, he sneered. “Not dead yet, huh? Then let’s kill our way out of here!”

Fang Yang rose to his feet, carefully masking any emotion from his voice. “You’re right. Let’s see if these bastards can hold us!”

Zachis was furious, his already fierce face twisting into a grimace. “Fuck!” he roared. “My elite guards can’t even kill two damn pests?!” Watching his men drop one after another, his patience finally snapped.

“Bring out the NR2 mortars!” he barked. With that kind of firepower, there was no way those two would survive.

Before his men could act, Pei Jun placed a hand on his arm and shook his head.

“I’ll handle this,” Pei Jun said calmly, drawing a sleek black long-barreled pistol from inside his coat. The gun’s unusual design featured a protruding curve at the muzzle, with the letters LION etched in fine English script along its underside.

Zachis, who prided himself as a weapons connoisseur, clapped his hands with a laugh. “Ah, the ‘Lion of North Africa’! Truly as legendary as they say.”

Pei Jun ignored him. Ever since that fateful event five years ago, he had rarely used a gun. The Lion had been locked away, a symbol of something he had sworn to leave behind. But now….

Ah Sheng, he thought bitterly, why did you have to appear here? Why must you defy me time and time again?

—-

“Goddammit!” Ye Jingsheng spat, his frustration boiling over as he kicked the heavy iron door. The impact echoed through the confined space, but the door didn’t budge. He began pacing like a caged tiger, his hands tightening into fists before releasing, his anger barely contained.

“Fang Yang, you fucking idiot,” he muttered under his breath, the image of Fang Yang collapsing into his arms still vivid in his mind. The warm, sticky blood soaked through his clothes, leaving a crimson stain he couldn’t shake off.

“Why the hell did you jump in front of me?” He ran a hand through his hair, despair bubbling over. “We’re just allies, right? You damn fool!”

He slammed his fist against the wall, anger giving way to a creeping sense of unease. The thought of Fang Yang’s pale face, his labored breathing, gnawed at him. He had seen too many people die to not recognize the signs.

“Shit…” His voice softened as his fury dissipated. For a brief moment, his chest tightened.

Outside the room, Zachis paced back and forth, his movements sharp and restless as he fixed a glare on Pei Jun. “This is insane!” he barked. “You want me to keep them alive? Those two have done nothing but cause trouble!”

Pei Jun stood still, his expression unreadable. “They’re worth more alive than dead,” he said, his voice cold and sharp. “Fang Yang is a key figure in Hong Kong’s underworld. Keeping him gives us leverage in terms of money, power, and influence—”

Zachis interrupted him with a snarl. “I don’t need some Hong Kong thug to get what I want! Do you really think I’m afraid of the CIA or those government dogs?”

Pei Jun arched a brow, his demeanor icy. “You should be. The political climate is shifting. Your operations are already under a microscope. Fang Yang is a bargaining chip, a safety net, should the tide turn against you.”

Zachis hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he weighed Pei Jun’s words. Finally, with a grunt, he barked at his men. “Fine! Lock them up. But if they so much as breathe wrong, they’re dead!”

Pei Jun inclined his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “A wise decision, Commander.”