Lian had been awake for hours, sitting by the window, half-hidden behind the faded curtains. Kai shuffled out of the small bedroom, rubbing his eyes. His hair was a mess, and he was wearing the same shirt as the night before. “You didn’t sleep again,” he said, voice rough.
Lian didn’t look away from the window. “Sleep is a luxury.”
He yawned, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s also free.”
“Not when you have this job.”
Kai gave a tired laugh, pulling out a chair and sitting backward on it. “You ever think we make it harder than it needs to be?”
Lian finally turned her head. “You think killing people should be easy?”
“No,” he said. “I think you make it hard. You keep everything locked up. Even from me.”
Lian didn’t answer.
He sighed and picked up the small flash drive from the table. “So, what’s the plan? The file said that contact is alive, right?”
She nodded. “Name’s Yao Ming. He used to be one of Father’s technicians but he disappeared after the fire.”
“Hong Kong address?”
“Sham Shui Po. Small repair shop on Pei Ho Street.”
Kai frowned. “That area’s a maze. Perfect place for someone to vanish.”
“Then it’s a good place to start.”
Kai walked a few steps behind her, scanning faces, counting exits. He always did that when they were on the move, a habit she had drilled into him years ago.
“You know,” he said quietly, “you could let me take the lead once in a while.”
“You take the lead when it’s your turn to die,” she said flatly.
He groaned. “You’re not even pretending to be nice anymore.”
“I was never pretending.”
They reached the shop after an hour of weaving through narrow alleys and sidestreets. The sign above the metal shutter was peeling, half the letters missing. YAO ELECTRONICS REPAIR.
Lian tapped on the door twice, then again after a pause. A small, cautious voice came from behind it. “Closed. Come back later.”
She glanced at Kai. “Stay sharp.”
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The door opened a crack. A man in his fifties peered out, eyes darting between them. His hair was thin and gray, his face drawn. When he saw Lian clearly, his expression shifted — confusion first, then fear.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered. “They’ll see you.”
“Who?” she asked.
He hesitated, looking past her like someone might be listening. “Come inside. Quick.”
The shop smelled of solder and dust. Circuit boards covered every surface. There were shelves stacked with old phones, cables, and small mechanical parts.
Yao locked the door behind them and lowered the blinds. His hands shook slightly.
“You’re Lian,” he said. “You look like your mother.”
Lian felt something tighten in her chest. “You knew her?”
He nodded. “Everyone at the lab did and your father… he was brilliant, but he pushed too hard. She reminded him when to stop.”
Kai stepped closer. “You worked with them on the tracking system?”
“Yes. The prototype was almost complete when everything went wrong.”
Lian’s eyes narrowed. “When they were killed.”
Yao swallowed hard. “I warned your father. LSK wanted control of the data. He refused. He said no one should have that kind of power.”
Kai’s jaw clenched. “And they burned everything down to make their point.”
Yao didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
Lian crossed her arms. “How are you still alive?”
“I left the night before the fire,” he said quietly. “Your mother told me to. She said if anything happened, I should disappear and keep one thing safe.”
He turned and walked to a shelf, pulling down a small tin box. Inside, wrapped in yellowed paper, was a microchip.
Kai stared. “What is that?”
“Part of the original code,” Yao said. “Your father’s final design. I kept it hidden all these years.”
Lian reached for it, but he held it back. “If you take it, they’ll come for you again. They never stopped looking.”
“We already know that,” Kai said.
Yao looked between them — the tension, the cold efficiency in their eyes. “You’ve both become what he feared.”
Lian met his gaze. “What did he fear?”
“That his children would turn into weapons.”
Kai broke the silence. “Maybe that’s what it takes.”
Yao’s voice trembled. “It’s not what your parents wanted.”
Lian’s tone softened, just slightly. “What they wanted doesn’t matter anymore. We finish what they started.”
Yao hesitated, then handed her the chip. “Then do it quickly.”
Back on the street, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Lian slipped the chip into a waterproof pouch and tucked it inside her jacket.
Kai walked beside her in silence for a while before finally speaking. “You believe him?”
“I believe he’s scared.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s lying.”
She nodded, keeping her eyes on the road. “No. But fear makes people remember things wrong.”
“Or right,” Kai said quietly.
They reached the end of the block, where the market opened into a wider street. Steam rose from the ground, and the smell of fried noodles drifted through the air.
Kai stopped, watching her. “You think we’re really weapons?”
Lian paused. “We’re what’s left.”
He frowned. “That’s not an answer.”
She turned to face him fully, her expression unreadable. “It’s the only one I’ve got.”
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then she started walking again, and he followed, the sound of their footsteps swallowed by the waking city.
