Chapter 59: Fishing (2)
The concrete stairs groaned under our weight. The building was an empty husk of rebar and shadows. We climbed for what felt like miles. Honestly, my thighs were burning by the time we reached the top floor.
It was a wide-open slab exposed to the night sky. A guy was sitting on a folded-out camping chair in the center of the dust. He was shirtless. The guy was smoking a joint, the cherry glowing bright orange in the gloom. Half a dozen thugs stood behind him. A couple of girls were draped over the armrests of his chair, looking bored and dangerous.
I stopped. I let my eyes widen, putting on my best terrified civilian face. I took a step back toward the stairwell.
The driver grabbed my left arm. Two thugs stepped out from the shadows and grabbed my right.
The guy in the chair took a slow drag. A thick silver chain rested against his bare chest, holding a heavy pendant shaped like the letter 'A'. Arslan.
"Looking for Francis?" Arslan asked. His voice was a smooth, mocking drawl. "Don't worry. Just handover what he left with you, will ya? Then you'll get to see him soon."
I kept up the act. I looked at the driver with wide, trembling eyes. The driver ignored me, reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out the bag of white powder. He tossed it to Arslan.
Arslan caught it. He whistled, the sound echoing off the bare concrete.
"Oh? Our little bird had already passed it on?" He looked at me, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "What had he told you this was?"
There was no more room for pretense. Playing the weeping girlfriend was only going to get me a bullet in the back of the head. I needed to be bold. I needed to leave a mark right here, right now.
"He said he worked at a pharmaceutical company," I said. My voice was deadpan. "I guess it's kind of true."
Arslan’s smile widened. He licked his lips, clearly amused.
"It is kind of true."
He handed the joint to the driver. The driver walked over, his face blank, and shoved the smoking tip toward my mouth.
I looked at the joint. I looked at Arslan. My strategist brain was running the numbers. The men behind him. The thugs holding my arms. The driver in front. It was a massive amount of risk. If I miscalculated, I was a corpse.
I sighed. I leaned forward and took a drag.
The smoke was harsh. It burned the back of my throat, a hot, acrid taste that made my eyes water.
Arslan chuckled. He clapped his hands together, the sound sharp in the quiet night.
"Do you want to meet Francis?" he asked.
I didn't look at Arslan. My peripheral vision caught the movement behind me. The thug on my right was reaching into his waistband. Pulling out a gun.
"Yes," I said.
Arslan waved his hand lazily. "Okay. Send her there."
It all happened in a flash.
The man behind me raised the barrel. I pulled on the icy blue thread in my chest, letting the thermal resonance flood my veins.
—CRACK.
Frost exploded over the thug's wrist. The cold was absolute. The ice locked his hand solid before his finger could even twitch on the trigger.
Immediately, I grabbed the joint from my lips. I pushed my own mana into the flimsy paper.[Weaponize]. The joint turned into a rigid, burning spike of hardened fiber.
I drove it backward, shoving the glowing tip straight into the thug's eye.
—HISS.
The man screamed. His hands flew to his face as the flame burned straight through his cornea, the sizzling sound loud and wet.
I didn't wait to watch him fall. I sidestepped his flailing body and spun, delivering a brutal kick to the driver’s knee. The joint popped, dropping him to the concrete with a loud groan. I reset my stance, turning back toward Arslan.
Total silence fell over the rooftop.
The girls shrieked, scrambling back from the camping chair. The other thugs reached for their weapons, aiming them right at my chest.
Arslan just sat there. He held up a single hand.
The thugs froze.
I let the ice recede from my fingertips. The cold vanished, replaced by the frantic heat of my own heartbeat. I forced a desperate, hungry tone into my voice.
"Francis was sending me money," I said, breathing hard.
Arslan furrowed his brow, tilting his head.
"I don't need to go meet him," I continued. "I can be of use."
Arslan looked at the thug writhing on the ground. He looked at the driver clutching his knee. Then, he looked back at me. A slow, genuine smile crept across his face.
"This bird has a bite."
[A/N: Sorry for the very late update! I had been busy with a very important thing, but now it's over! We are back to regular uploads!!]