Luhan and Mom were fighting again. More accurately, Luhan was yelling and Mom was trying to calm him down. Sehun could hear them through the flimsy barrier of his bedroom door. 

“All they do is bring the same things up over and over and over, until the right answer falls out of my mouth!  I hate it!"

"Dr. Zhang thinks it will help."

"Well, it won't.  NOTHING will change!"

"Luhan. We agreed to give it a chance, remember?"

"It's a waste of time." Luhan sounded less angry and more distressed now.  "I'll always be like this.  Mom, you don't think I've tried?"

Sehun stared anxiously down at his workbook, trying to distract himself with homework.  Luhan seemed pretty upset; so it was unlikely that Sehun would be hearing about Suho's adventures anytime soon.

But when Luhan came into his room an hour later, he didn't seem to bear any traces of his previous outburst.

"Hey, Thehun. Mom's out buying groceries.  What do you want for dinner?"

"Bubble tea?"  Sehun tried.  Luhan smiled and shook his head.

"I don't think they sell those at the supermarket.  Hey, don't." Luhan slapped Sehun's hands, which had been creeping up to scratch his forearms.  He softened his voice when Sehun sniffled.  "Does it itch that badly? Do you want some cooling gel?"

"I want bubble tea," Sehun insisted.  "That's the only thing that will make me feel better."

"Fine, you spoiled brat, I'll go buy you some."  Sehun brightened.  "But that means I won't have time to tell you what happened to Suho..."

"NO!"   Sehun's small arm shot out to yank his brother back down, practically shoving him into the bedside chair.  Bubble tea could wait another day.  "Tell me! I won't scratch!"

Smirking, Luhan gazed out at the window at the sunset.  

The sun was pulling itself out of the horizon when Suho woke up.  He glanced around the silent plane.  Chanyeol was fast asleep, head pillowed in Baekhyun’s lap and drool leaking out of his mouth.  Tao was curled up in his seat, looking more like an overgrown child than a vengeful warrior at the moment--Suho was reminded of Byul, who made the same whiny noises in his sleep.  Meanwhile Baekhyun was busily fiddling with the compartment above his seat, an alarmingly large beer can in hand. 

“What’s a beercan?”

…just kidding.  Baekhyun actually was drinking Thai bubble tea.  Anyway, he noticed Suho’s stare, and quickly slammed the compartment shut.

“Good morning,” Suho said politely.

Baekhyun grunted, handing Suho a croissant and banana.  He was clearly not a morning person. 

Suho spent the rest of breakfast staring out the window.  The morning view was beautiful; sunlight glittered on the ocean surface as they passed over the Renminbi Archipelago, whose presence meant that they would soon be approaching Yuan Land.  Staring out at the Asiatic waters, Suho suddenly wished he’d paid more attention during his geography lessons.

An hour later, the plane crashed down onto a deserted field.  Before they disembarked, the four passengers pulled thick masks over their faces.  The masks served two purposes: to protect their lungs against Yuan Land’s smoggy air, and to protect their identities. Baekhyun forced Suho to put on a wig—a light brown bob that made Suho sneeze.

“Have a pleasant journey,” the pilot said, as they descended the ladder.  Suho noticed that the pilot, too, wore a mask.  Clearly, no one in this plane trusted each other.  Or perhaps the pilot himself was a criminal as well...Suho gulped.

"Not after that horrible flight," Tao muttered, clutching his head.  He staggered against the railing, then paused.  Slowly, he lifted his head to stare at the pilot. 

“Hurry, I need to pee,” Chanyeol complained.

Tao frowned.  There was something familiar about the pilot that Tao couldn't quite put his finger on...but his thoughts scattered as Baekhyun pushed him onward.

"Don't mind him; he's not a fan of heights," Baekhyun informed the pilot.  "Thank you for the ride."

"Thank you for your patronage,” The pilot returned.  “I hope to see you again...very soon.”

As the only native-born Yuanlander, Tao acted as the group’s guide, exchanging currency and flagging down a cab.  In many countries like Yuan, shocking poverty coexisted shamelessly with shocking wealth. Their destination was a gigantic hotel, whose opulence was in stark contrast to the shabby neighborhoods they passed by.   Even Suho, who was used to frequenting five-star hotels for his father’s business trips, was impressed by the hotel's swanky interior. The ceilings were overhung with pink crystal chandeliers and the floors were as shiny as newly minted coins.  

But if Suho had any hopes of escaping his sparkly prison, they disappeared the moment Baekhyun handcuffed him to the bedpost in their hotel room.

“Hey!”

As Suho struggled in vain against the cuffs, Baekhyun began combing the hotel room...for what, Suho wasn't sure.  He could hear scratching and bumping and swearing noises from the bedroom as Baekhyun conducted his inspection.   Tao fetched a drink of vodk...of very strong bubble tea from the fridge, before going off to help Baekhyun.  From his pale cheeks, it was clear that the wushu warrior still hadn’t completely recovered from their plane ride. Suho sighed and stared glumly up at the ceiling.  

Meanwhile, Chanyeol bounced up and down on the armchair, oblivious to Suho's sulky mood.

Suho must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, he woke up to the delicious smell of pasta and fried chicken.  As Baekhyun counted out bills for the grumpy-looking delivery boy, Tao emerged from the bathroom in a steam of expensive skincare vapors.  Suho's stomach grumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in hours.  

How many hours had it been since his kidnapping?  Suho glanced at the clock and suddenly remembered that today was his supposed-to-be wedding day.  If he hadn't been kidnapped, he would currently be enjoying a lavish banquet with 500+ guests.  Suho thought longingly of gold-foil sushi and salmon caviar pasta.

As soon as the delivery boy left, Chanyeol grabbed a drumstick from the plate.

WHAM!  A knife flew through the air; it pinned the chicken to the wall. 

"HEY!" Chanyeol cried.

"Tao, what did we say about unannounced training sessions?" Baekhyun sighed.

Ignoring them, Tao strode over to the table with the rest of his knives.  He grabbed the tray of food and flung their entire dinner down the trash can. 

"HEY!"

"And what did we say about expressing your anger in a healthy way?"

"You idiots," Tao said flatly.  He was already pulling on his belt and holstering his knives and sticks.  "Are you blind?  Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize the pilot.”

"Huh?"

"The delivery guy. I knew it.  I knew there was something sketchy about the pilot...he must’ve followed us here."

"Are you sure it was the same guy?" Chanyeol asked, staring longingly at the trash can.

Tao scowled.  "I remember every person I encounter, or have you forgotten my training?"

"...Great."  Baekhyun sighed.  "Do you think he's here for us or for Suho?"

"Well, we did gain quite a few enemies from that Soo-Man job last week..."

"I guess we'll find out soon enough.  Tao and Chanyeol--find the pilot and get rid of him.  I'll take Suho to the meeting place.  They're collecting him at midnight."

"Th-they?" Suho squeaked. “Who are you talking about?”

"The people who hired us to kidnap you."  Baekhyun gave Suho a pitying smile.  "Lovely people.  You'll see."

Suho barely had time to protest before his handcuffs were transferred from the bedpost to Baekhyun's grip.  With an impatient tug, Baekhyun maneuvered Suho out of bed. Suho shrieked.

"Wait, I need to comb my hair and--"

"Save it, pretty boy."  Baekhyun pulled the brown-haired wig off Suho's head, replacing it with a long blonde one. Tao and Chanyeol had already left in pursuit of the pilot.  "Follow me.  The sooner we get this over with, the better."

Chanyeol had forgotten what a workout chasing after people could be...or rather, pretending to chase after people.  Half an hour and several circuits around the hotel later, he still had not found the pilot.  Chanyeol collapsed into a stool at the hotel bar, catching his breath.

"Some extra-strong taro bubble tea on the rocks, please," he panted.

The bartender busied himself with the various pumps and valves and colored liquids.  "Stressful day?" he inquired, with the bland tone of one who really could not care less.  Chanyeol nodded.

"Yeah!  I'm on a top secret mission!"

"Of course you are," the bartender replied.  He slid the glass in front of Chanyeol, who chugged down its contents.  

"Hello, man."  A new voice joined them, as a man slid into the seat beside Chanyeol's.  Sunglasses and a black mask obstructed half of his face.  It was the pilot, although he was no longer wearing the delivery boy uniform from half an hour ago.

"Oh no! Chanyeol, watch out!"

"You're on Chanyeol's side, now?  He kidnapped Suho, remember?"

"But the pilot is bad too!  He has the evil tattoo!"

"That's true...hm, maybe I should kill them both?"

"NO!"

Masked Man signalled for the bartender--"two honeydew milk teas, please"--before turning to Chanyeol.

"Hey. Are you all right, man?  You look a little tired."

Chanyeol nodded and whispered, very loudly.  "I'm supposed to catch someone.  But it's a secret...Don't tell!"

Masked Man offered Chanyeol one of the green drinks.  "Here.  You'll probably need your energy for that."  

Swaying in his seat, Chanyeol gulped down the drink. "Wow, this is good! Thanks!"

"Didn't Chanyeol's mom tell him you shouldn't accept candy or presents from strangers?"

Masked Man nudged a second glass towards Chanyeol.

"I just hope I don't have to kill him," Chanyeol rambled, his words slurring together.  "I wish there was a way to kill someone that doesn't involve blood...I don't like blood..."

Masked Man clapped Chanyeol on the back.  "You don't have to worry about that anymore, buddy."

"What do you mean...?"

When the bartender returned, Masked Man was nowhere to be found.  Meanwhile, Chanyeol was out colder than the ice cubes in his cup, thanks to the powder Masked Man had slipped into his tea earlier.  

"Great," the bartender sighed as he tried unsuccessfully to wake Chanyeol.  That made the fourth guy to pass out in the bar today, and the clock hadn't even struck 9 o'clock yet.  Really, he thought to himself, young people should know their alcoh--I mean, bubble tea limit.

Tao found his target in the hotel's main ballroom.  To his great annoyance, it seemed like Masked Man had been expecting him.  He leaned against the paneled wood walls, twirling a long wushu stick in his right hand.

"Good evening."  Masked Man mock-bowed. "May I have this dance?"

Tao growled.

Seconds later, the room was filled with the sound of wood clanging against each other.  If this were a kids' cartoon, the room would be filled with smoke and sparks and other dumb special effects.

"Hey!  They're not dumb!"

My bad.  Unrealistic special effects.  Anyway, the two warriors sparred their way around the room. .  As always, Tao summoned up the rage and pain of his family's last moments as he struck against his opponent.  CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!  It was a frustratingly even match.  The pair of men were of approximately similar height, similar build.   Every strike was met with a block.  Tao gritted his teeth and growled. It was hard to tell what Masked Man was feeling, since only his eyes were visible.  

As Masked Man swept a wide arc with his stick, Tao jumped up and clung to the chandelier, narrowly missing by an inch.  Masked Man raised an eyebrow as Tao swung back and forth like a sullen pendulum.  “Impressive.”

“I know.” Tao let go, using the momentum to land on Masked Man's shoulders. The latter crashed to the floor.  Tao pointed the tip of his stick triumphantly at Masked Man's neck and planted his boot planted squarely on Masked Man's right arm.  "You're a good fighter, I'll give you that.  But there's something you should know." The wushu stick switched hands. Tao smirked.  "I'm ambidextrous."

There was a prolonged silence, as Tao let his message sink in.

"Well, since we're in a sharing mood--"  With his unpinned left arm, the man shoved Tao off with surprising strength.  Masked Man stood, stick now in his left arm as well.  "I'm actually left handed."

To prove his point, he twirled the stick with his left hand. 

Tao gaped.  This was the first time his dramatic reveal had backfired!  "Who are you?"

“No one of importance; just an average civilian.  Shall we continue?"

"You lie!"  Tao charged at the man.  “I’m the best fighter in all of Yuan Land.  I would’ve heard of you.”

"Was that a compliment?"

"NO!"

The fighting went on and on. It would probably take pages to describe every move, so I'll just give you the short version.  They made their way around the ballroom, out the door, up a back staircase.  Sometimes it was Tao backing Masked Man up the stairs, other times it was the other way around. n flights of stairs later, when there was no longer a n+1 th floor, they exited the stairwell, emerging into a hallway of tasteful carpeting and boring oil paintings of fruit.  By the time they reached the end of the hallway, half the paintings had fallen to the floor due to all the commotion.  Tao grabbed one of them, using it as a makeshift shield as Masked Man began ramping up his attacks. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG--

"Hey, I would prefer it if you don't disrespect art like that..." Masked Man said in a pained voice. 

Tao's response was to smash the painting against Masked Man's wushu stick.

They fought their way into a large, empty suite with a luxurious king bed and fat sofas.  Within seconds, the furniture was completely ruined as the room exploded in goose feathers.  With a triumphant cry, Tao backed Masked Man against the wall.

"Drop your stick." Tao hissed.  Masked Man stared calmly back at him. With a grunt, Tao his stick harder against Masked Man--uh, ahem--

"Why are you laughing?"

"Uh." Luhan coughed. "Nothing."

Now that he had Masked Man pinned against the wall, Tao was able to force the weapon out of his opponent's hands.  Masked Man struggled and twisted, and in doing so ripped his sleeve, revealing...

The M OXE tattoo stared mockingly back up at him.  Tao saw red, and he heard his mother's screams in his head.   A wave of déjà vu hit him, bringing him back to that fateful, terrible night of his childhood.

Suddenly, Tao was sure he knew where he recognized Masked Man from.  That fateful, terrible night of his childhood. 

"My name is Tao," Tao said, staring coldly into Masked Man's eyes.  "You people killed my family.  Prepare to die--"

Masked Man's eyes widened, as though realizing just how dangerous Tao could actually be.  But instead of surrendering, Masked Man reached out an arm and flicked a switch on the wall.

In a split second, all of the room's curtains and blinds snapped open.  As it turned out, they were in the hotel’s Bird's Eye suite, which featured fully windowed walls.  Every single wall of the room looked out, 30 stories down onto the bright Meijing cityscape below. 

“Surprise," Masked Man said apologetically.

It would be utterly inconceivable that a great warrior, with a perfect track record against all opponents large and small, would faint mid-battle.

But that’s what Tao did.

"What?! That's so dumb!  I thought Tao was supposed to be the best warrior in Yuan!"

"Well, everyone has something that they're afraid of. Even the best warriors. It's called an Achilles Heel."

"B-but he was so close!  That's not fair!  That evil Moxe group killed his family!"

"Life isn't fair.  Besides, who's the one telling the story? Me or you?"

"Hmph."

“Where—are you—taking me?”  Suho struggled as Baekhyun dragged him down the hallway.  “Let go! At least let me change into something nicer so that I can die with dignity.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not ridiculous!  Can’t you at least let me be beautiful in death?”

“Look, Suho,” Baekhyun said through gritted teeth as he pulled the protesting boy along.  “Stop with the dramatics.  I kinda like you, so I’ll just tell you this...We weren’t hired to kill you.”

“…that’s great?” Suho scoffed.  “Kill, torture, same thing.”                   

“We’re not here to torture you, either.”

"Could've fooled me!”

After much screaming and kicking (Suho) and grumbling and swearing (Baekhyun), they stopped before a door marked Conference Room A.  Baekhyun dug out a set of keys and unlocked the door.  

“Well, we’re here.  Time to meet the big shots.”

Suho swallowed.  "The people who hired you to kidnap me?”

“Yup.”

“Who are they?  What are they going to do with me?"

Baekhyun looked at Suho, a strange expression in his eyes--almost like pity.  “Suho, how much do you know about your fiancé?”

“Xiumin?” Suho frowned. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought much of Xiumin at all.  “He seems okay? I don't really know him, I suppose.”

“I thought you’d say so.”  Baekhyun said, turning the knob.  “Well, the truth is—“

Suho never got to hear the truth, whatever it was.  

“Good afternoon.”  A figure, dressed in all black and half-masked, rose from the conference table.  "I've been expecting you."

Baekhyun, on the other hand, had not been expecting the man.  He swore at the unexpected guest, and his mind raced.  Where were Chanyeol and Tao?   As though reading Baekhyun's mind, Masked Man continued:

“Your friends have been…delayed.  Indefinitely."   Masked Man nodded towards Suho.  “Hand him over, please.”

“What, this little shrimp?” Suho bristled; it wasn’t like Baekhyun wasn’t any bigger.  “He’s a nobody; why would you want him?”

“Nice try. I’d recognize his face anywhere,” Masked Man replied.  He held up a WANTED poster.  “Suho Kim, heir to Kim Ko Ko. Kidnapped right before his wedding day.  There’s a $1 million price for his safe return to his parents."

Suho frowned. Only one million?

“I don't intend to fight you with physical means," Masked Man continued, as Baekhyun reached for his belt. "You seem like the sort to enjoy a mental challenge, unlike your previous comrades.  I propose a battle of wits.”

Baekhyun raised an eyebrow.  His hand paused. He could never resist an intellectual challenge. “I’m listening.”

The man gestured to the table, on which were two filled cups. "I poured two drinks, one of which contains poison that causes irreversible death.”

A gleam entered Baekhyun’s eyes. “And you want us each to drink from one of them?  Russian Roulette?”

The man nodded.

“That sounds—“

“Stupid,” Suho interrupted. “How do you know he hasn’t built up an immunity to the poison beforehand?”

Masked Man gave Suho an irritated glare.

“Quiet, pretty boy,” Baekhyun waved Suho’s concern aside.  “Leave the masterminding to the experts.  All right, I accept your challenge.”

“I knew you would.” Masked Man sounded amused. Suho did not have a good feeling about this.

The two of them divested themselves of their knives and guns and laid them in a neat pile in the corner along with Suho--the winner would inherit it all.  Then, they sat across each other at the table.  Suho watched anxiously as Baekhyun studied the two cups. 

"At first glance, I would think that you placed the poisoned drink in front of yourself," Baekhyun said. "As a trap to throw me off."

“Is that your answer?”

“Quiet! Complex thinking cannot be rushed!   Let's see...of course, expecting that I would come to this conclusion, you must’ve switched it.  So!”  Baekhyun reached out to reverse the cups' positions. “But wait!  What if…you knew that I would think that?”  Reverse.  “But think that?” Reverse.  “But…?” Reverse. Reverse.  Reverse reverse. Suho was getting cross-eyed from watching Baekhyun move the glasses back and forth.  “No… this won’t do.  I need to write an algorithm.”

Masked Man nodded and pulled out a pen and notepad, complimentary hotel stationery.  Baekhyun bit his lip as he scribbled page after page of notes. Greek symbols and squiggly lines filled the page.  Suho wanted to yawn just looking at it.  Math had never been his strong suit.

The minute hand had traveled halfway around the clock's circumference before Baekhyun finally lifted his head in triumph.

“I have it!” Baekhyun grabbed the glass in front of him. “This is the safe drink!”

"Wasn't that your first guess?" Suho muttered crossly.  His was numb from having to sit still for so long.

“Are you sure?” Masked Man asked.

“Yes! Don’t try to distract me, now!”

“All right, then. Cheers?”

They raised their cups; the liquids sparkled in the light.  They really did look identical...

“Cheers.”  Locked in a staring contest, the two men swallowed their drinks.  Suho watched with bated breath.  The seconds ticked by.  Ten. Twenty. 

Thirty. 

One minute...

“Uh…” Sweat was rolling down Baekhyun’s forehead, belying his nonchalant expression. “How long does the poison take to act, again?”

The corner of Masked Man's lips quirked.  “There is no poison.”

“Uh.....say what?”

“There is, however, glue on your chair that takes about ten minutes to cure.  Good thing you're quite the talker."

“What the—“  Baekhyun made an attempt to stand, but his pants stuck fast to the chair. “You bast—“

As Baekhyun scrambled to pull off his shoes and undo his belt, Masked Man stood swiftly and walked over to the pile of weapons by the bed.  He reached for his gun, loading it with a click.  He then pointed it at Baekhyun, who was still halfway through taking off his pants.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Byun.  It’s nothing personal.”

BAM!

“Wait, what?  Glue?”

“Yup.”

“But that’s cheating!”

“You cheated,” Suho accused.  His hands were still bound with rope, with which Masked Man was using to lead him down the corridor.  Behind them in Conference Room A, Baekhyun lay motionless on the floor.  His mouth hung wide open, mid-rant.  Even in death, his tongue refused to stay hidden.

“You expected me to play fair?” Masked Man shook his head in amusement.  “This is the real world, princess. No one plays fair.”