Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Across from me stood a massive floor-to-ceiling mirror.

In it was reflected a man with a pale face, drenched in blood.

He held a gun in his hand, the muzzle aimed straight at the center of my forehead.

It was me.

It was me, white-faced, raising a gun and pointing it at myself.

In an instant, all the blood in my body seemed to turn cold.

Bone-deep cold.

My ears rang, drowning out every other sound. Only Master Shen’s light, careless words from moments ago kept echoing through my mind.

Kill the person behind you…

The person behind you…

I held that ridiculous pose, turned around with the gun raised, frozen like some laughable statue.

The man in the mirror did not move either. He stared back at me with the same horrified, despairing eyes.

The wound pressed beneath the gauze began to seep blood again, warm and sticky, trickling down my skin.

But I felt no pain. Only cold, spreading from the deepest part of my heart.

My hand around the gun trembled faintly, my knuckles clenched white.

The other me in the mirror was trembling too.

Behind me, Master Shen said nothing more.

In the deathly silence, only the smoke from his cigar drifted lazily through the dim light.

Time seemed to stop, yet also seemed to stretch endlessly.

Every second was as unbearable as a century.

I stared at myself in the mirror. At the man Master Shen had picked up out of the mud and spent ten years sharpening into a qualified weapon.

And now, the edge of that weapon was aimed at itself.

Loyalty? A dog?

So this was the answer.

He did not need a dog that was no longer satisfied with gnawing on bones.

He did not need any delusions that crossed the line.

Even if those delusions had been raised by his own hand.

I stared into the eyes in the mirror.

The hand holding the gun shook even harder.

The joint of my index finger hooked around the trigger had turned bluish-white from the force.

Kill him.

Kill “him.”

Master Shen’s order.

The air froze into ice, so cold that every limb, every bone in my body seemed to let out a faint groan.

The face in the mirror was both familiar and strange, pale as a ghost, with only its eyes red.

Behind me, the scent of the cigar drifted over slowly, curling around the tip of my nose.

He was waiting.

Waiting for me to do it.

Waiting for this disobedient dog to bite through its own throat.

What a fucking joke.

Ten years.

I had taken bullets for him. I had cleaned house for him. On countless nights, I had stood guard outside his door, listening to the movements within and watching for the slightest sign of trouble.

I had treated him as my only light, my only faith.

I thought this life of mine belonged to him, and with it, this dirty, humble heart of mine belonged to him too.

Turns out, it didn’t.

Turns out this heart was unnecessary.

A nuisance.

Something that had to be carved out by my own hand.

The grip of the gun dug painfully into my palm.

Sweat mixed with blood slid down from my temple and dripped into my eye, stinging sharply.

I did not blink. I stared fixedly at the mirror.

The person in the mirror stared back at me.

His gaze slowly changed from the initial horror into something else.

A deathly stillness, like resignation.

I looked at him. At this shell that had accompanied me for thirty years.

This shell that had lived for Shen Jiuyuan, and should die for Shen Jiuyuan too.

The taste of rust surged up my throat.

I closed my eyes, then opened them again. The eyes of the man in the mirror had changed.

In that emptiness, only a trace of cold resolve remained.

What Master Shen wanted, I would give him.

Including this life.

Including these delusions I never should have had.

The hand holding the gun suddenly stopped shaking.

My index finger slowly began to apply pressure.

The trigger had only a very short pull.

I could feel it moving, bit by bit, approaching that critical point.

In the mirror, the corner of my mouth slowly, ever so slowly, pulled into the faintest curve.

It did not look like a smile. More like a sob.

My vision began to blur, leaving only that pitch-black muzzle and, behind it, my own lifeless eyes.

So be it.

Shen Jiuyuan.

In my heart, I silently said that name one last time.

Then my fingertip tightened with a sudden force.