Lian was waiting by the car. The black sedan looked out of place under the flickering neon sign of a pawn shop. She leaned against the hood, arms crossed, eyes sharp even in the rain.

  “You took your time,” she said.

  “He was more paranoid than I thought,” Kai replied. “He had two phones, three exits, and a panic button hidden in the bathroom.”

  “Did he talk?”

  “Eventually.”

  She looked at him like she could read the truth under the surface. “What did he say?”

  Kai opened the passenger door, slid inside, and pulled out a small flash drive. “He said the name we’ve been hearing isn’t a codename. It’s a person. A fixer for LSK. Works out of Macau. Calls himself the Man in the White Suit.”

  Lian turned the key in the ignition, the car humming to life. “Macau,” she said. “So we’re leaving tonight.”

  Kai nodded. “He also said something else. That the massacre wasn’t supposed to include us.”

  The rain hit harder against the windshield. Lian didn’t speak for a long time. Her hands tightened on the wheel, veins visible against her skin. “We’ll deal with that later,” she said finally. “For now, we find the man in the white suit.”

  They drove in silence through the back streets, neon lights reflecting in pools of rainwater. Hong Kong blurred by — the night markets, the shouts of street vendors, the smell of smoke and soy sauce mixing with gasoline. Kai watched the city slide past and wondered if anyone out there had any idea how much blood stained the quiet parts of this place.

  At the ferry terminal, Lian parked behind a stack of shipping containers. They didn’t use tickets or schedules. They used a man who owed them.

  He was already waiting near the edge of the pier, his cigarette glowing orange in the dark. “Didn’t think I’d see you two again,” he said with a crooked smile.

  “You think too much,” Lian said. She handed him a small envelope. “Two seats. Tonight.”

  He glanced inside, saw the cash, and nodded. “Boat leaves in twenty minutes. Rough water tonight. You sure you want to go?”

  Kai smiled faintly. “We’ve seen worse.”

  The man laughed, shook his head, and disappeared down the dock.

  They boarded a small cargo vessel that smelled of oil and seaweed. The crew didn’t ask questions. Lian and Kai stayed near the stern, the wind whipping at their jackets. The skyline grew smaller behind them until it disappeared into fog.

  “Do you ever think about stopping?” Kai asked suddenly.

  Lian turned her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “Stopping what?”

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  “All of it. The missions. The lists. The killing.”

  She didn’t answer right away. “Every time I close my eyes,” she said quietly. “And then I wake up.”

  Kai nodded. He didn’t press.

  They reached Macau just before dawn. The city was quieter than Hong Kong, but it had the same kind of sleepless energy — casinos glowing in the distance, scooters buzzing through the early morning mist.

  Lian had a contact there, an old information broker named Wai. They found him in a teahouse tucked behind a seafood market, wearing sunglasses indoors and eating shrimp dumplings like he had nowhere else to be.

  “You always come when things are messy,” he said with a grin. “You should come just to say hello sometime.”

  Lian sat across from him. “We need a location. The man in the white suit.”

  Wai’s grin faded. “That name again. You two really don’t like living easy, do you?”

  “Tell us what you know,” Kai said.

  Wai sighed and leaned back. “He’s not a man you meet by accident. He handles LSK’s cleanup jobs. Makes problems disappear. They say he lives in the upper floors of Hotel Mirador, near the old casino. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Anyone guarding him?” Lian asked.

  “Always. Two ex-special forces, one sniper across the street, and a floor full of cameras that feed into his personal server.”

  “Where’s the server?”

  “Behind a mirrored wall in his office. Good luck getting in there without setting off every alarm in Macau.”

  Lian stood. “Luck’s never been our strategy.”

  Wai shook his head and muttered something in Cantonese that sounded like a prayer.

  By the time the sun broke over the bay, they were already near the hotel. Kai handled surveillance from a parked van, watching the feeds from a drone hovering above.

  “Top floor’s sealed,” he said into his earpiece. “Infrared shows three heat signatures. Two guards and one unknown. Could be him.”

  “Copy,” Lian’s voice replied.

  She moved through the lobby like she belonged there, her black coat blending with the crowd of tourists and businessmen. The elevator ride felt too slow, the kind that gave you too much time to think.

  When the doors opened, two men were waiting. She didn’t hesitate. The first fell to a strike at the throat. The second reached for his gun, but she was faster — a sharp twist, a snap, and he was silent on the floor.

  “Kai,” she said. “I’m in.”

  “Mirror’s on your right,” he answered. “Hidden latch behind the sculpture.”

  She found it, pressed, and the panel slid open to reveal a sleek office that smelled faintly of cologne and gun oil. The man sitting behind the desk wore a white suit and a calm smile.

  “I was wondering when you’d arrive,” he said in perfect Mandarin.

  Lian stepped closer, gun raised. “You know who I am.”

  He nodded. “And you know who I work for.”

  “Then you know why you’re still breathing is a question I haven’t answered yet.”

  He smiled again, like he enjoyed the conversation. “Because killing me won’t give you what you want.”

  Kai’s voice came through the earpiece. “Lian, guards are coming up the elevator. Four floors down.”

  She didn’t move her weapon. “Then tell me something useful before I stop listening.”

  The man in the white suit leaned back in his chair, hands folded. “Your family wasn’t targeted. They were erased.”

  Lian’s jaw tightened. “What does that mean?”

  He tilted his head. “It means you’re not the only ones looking for answers.”

  The elevator dinged in the hallway.

  Lian fired once. The man’s chair spun as he fell. She turned and ran, her voice calm in the earpiece. “Kai, I’m out.”

  “Got you. Exit through the west stairwell. I’ll jam the cams.”

  The rain started again as she hit the street. Macau lights blurred around her, sirens wailing in the distance. She didn’t look back.

  Not yet.