"I hid it in a safe place." Charles chuckled. "Buddy, even if you spend your whole life looking for it, you might never find it."
"***!" The man in the trench coat unexpectedly kicked him hard, landing squarely on his injured abdomen.
"Agh!" A pained wail rang out as Charles' face abruptly turned alternating shades of green and pale. His body writhed into a grotesque posture.
"Tell us something we don't already know." The man in the trench coat pulled out a cigarette, lit it, but didn't bother removing his foot.
Charles tilted his head back, sucking in cold air with difficulty. Gasping, he said, "I don't know who he is. All I know is that every time we've met, it was at Yuanjiang Pier in East Sea. I've never seen his face clearly, but based on his accent, I know he's from Beijing."
"How can you be sure it's an authentic Beijing accent and not an altered one?"
"I can't differentiate that finely; I just know it's a Beijing accent."
"Go on."
