Mya was still holding onto Assad's sleeve, her face pressed against his arm. Though her trembling had calmed down, she hadn't let go.
Shuren stood a few steps away, flicking her lighter open and shut. Her gaze darted toward Assad, sharp yet relaxed at the same time.
"So," she said, lighting her cigarette and letting out a slow exhale. "What was the dream about, Sleeping Beauty?"
Assad blinked, the memory of a crimson sky flashing behind his eyes—the throne of corpses, the mocking grin, himself.
He managed a small smile. "Nah, it was nothing. I was just out cold, that's all."
Shuren raised an eyebrow, smoke curling from her lips. "Really? Because that tone of yours says otherwise."
Assad frowned slightly. "What tone?"
She snorted. "The tone, genius. You sound different."
Assad hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "Maybe I just need some water."
Shuren narrowed her eyes, studying him. There was something about the way he held himself now—shoulders back, the usual nervous edge missing from his words. Something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
Assad's gaze drifted to the ceiling, where the twisted forms of hanging mermen and mermaid corpses swayed faintly in the stale air. A chill ran down his spine.
Shō's voice sliced through the quiet, calm yet sharp. "So… even if you were out cold, you're still breathing. That's… new."
Assad froze, panic jolting through him. He pulled Mya closer, almost as if to shield her with his body. "Wh-why is he here?" His voice trembled.
Shuren stepped forward, one hand still clutching her cigarette. She offered him a calm, almost teasing smile. "Relax. Shō is on our side. Just chill."
"But… he attacked me!" Assad protested, his heart racing.
Shuren exhaled slowly, smoke curling into the dim light. "And that's because he didn't know. I filled him in on everything."
Assad's grip on Mya loosened a bit, but his eyes remained locked on Shō. The tension in the room hung thick, almost tangible, as if it had a life of its own.
Shuren stepped forward, shifting from her relaxed posture to something more focused and professional.
"Alright," she said, her voice slicing through the tension in the room. "Let's put Assad aside for now and get to the main issue."
Shō's eyes darted over the hanging bodies, scanning the space like a predator assessing its surroundings. He nodded slowly. "I agree."
He gestured toward the corpses above them. "Considering these bodies—and the fact they vanished right after you young ones showed up… Zheng Yan is already gearing up to ship the live mermen and mermaids."
The weight of his words filled the air, more oppressive than any smoke or foul odor. Shuren's jaw clenched. "So he's moving quicker than we thought."
Shō took one last look around the room before stepping closer. "On my way here, I noticed a truck nearby," he said, his voice steady yet pointed. "If I'm correct, that's what Zheng Yan is using to move the shipment."
Shuren's eyes narrowed, her expression hardening with determination. "Alright," she said, flicking her cigarette away and crushing it under her boot. "The main goal is clear: we need to get to that truck. Let's go."
Without another word, she took the lead, with Shō and Assad right behind her. The atmosphere was charged, each step deliberate—but the urgency was palpable.
In a different room, Zheng Yan leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. The monitor in front of him showed Shuren, Shō, Assad, and Mya navigating through another part of the building.
A slow smile crept across his lips. "Cinematic, indeed," he murmured, his voice smooth and chilling. "I must admit… I'm quite impressed, even with myself."
His gaze sharpened as he scrutinized the group on the screen. "Those two over there… Sionels, like you, Mischa?"
Mischa bowed sharply, his eyes cast down. "Yes, Young Master."
Zheng Yan's grin widened, a flicker of amusement dancing across his features. "Ah, I almost forgot to ask. How was it… experiencing death for the first time?"
Mischa's posture remained stiff, his tone flat. "A normal experience. Nothing out of the ordinary, Young Master."
Even Zheng Yan's smirk wavered for a brief moment. "Even… if some of your body parts were torn away?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary, Young Master," Mischa replied, calm and unflinching, as if the idea of pain no longer affected him.
Zheng Yan swirled his whiskey, the liquid glinting like molten amber. "Hmph… impressive."
He pushed back from his chair, whiskey still in hand. The dim light of the room highlighted the sharp angles of his face as he took one last look at the monitor.
"If that's what your words have shown… then it's yours now," he said, his voice low yet commanding. "Time to move."
Mischa bowed deeply, his eyes glued to the floor. "Yes, Young Master," he replied, his voice steady and unwavering.
With that, he fell into step behind Zheng Yan, following silently as his master strode toward the exit, the faint click of polished boots echoing through the room.
Zheng Yan's expression remained inscrutable, but the tension in the air was thick—a storm quietly brewing before it unleashed.
Shō led the group through the tight alleyways, his eyes darting around every shadow. "It should be just up ahead," he said, his voice low but filled with confidence.
When they finally arrived, the truck was parked in a small clearing, eerily silent and still. Its tires looked like they hadn't moved in hours. Assad, Mya, and Shō exchanged worried glances.
Shuren stepped up to the back of the truck and flung the doors open. Inside… nothing. The cargo area was completely bare.
"Maybe we got played," Assad said, his brow furrowing. "Or… maybe this shipment isn't even real."
Shuren hesitated for a moment, a familiar, unsettling feeling creeping up her spine. In an instant, she snapped, "Everyone—get behind me! Now!"
Before they could react, four rockets shot toward them at a terrifying speed, humming like deadly missiles.
Shuren didn't flinch. With practiced precision, she drew her firearm. The first rocket collided with her shot midair—BOOM!—and exploded into a fireball.
But three more were still barreling toward them. Instinct kicked in.
Shuren activated her ability, and in a flash:
One rocket veered upward and detonated in a massive explosion, sending debris raining harmlessly around them.
Another twisted sharply to the left, crashing into the mansion behind them and erupting in a shockwave of fire and smoke.
The third rocket came straight for them, but Shuren's gaze locked onto it. With a flick of her wrist, she shrank it down to the size of a bullet and shot it back with deadly accuracy.
The air was thick with smoke and the sharp scent of gunpowder. Assad's jaw dropped. "How—how did you do that?"
Shuren's expression remained calm, almost indifferent, as the last rocket disappeared into the chaos she had created. "Focus," she said. "The real threat hasn't even shown up yet."
Mya clung tighter to Assad, her eyes wide with fear. Shō simply nodded, already plotting their next move.