Several hours ago

Zitao lets his thoughts untangle themselves in the wind, his gaze passing emotionlessly over the woman in front of him. Fei. He can't decide, or remember, whether or not her face is familiar. "Do I know you from somewhere, Fei?"

"Perhaps," she says, inclining her head. "But if you have heard of me, it will have been a long time ago, and I do not wish to discuss the past."

A smile curves Zitao's lips. If only Gyuri spoke this coolly to him without being scathing; maybe then he would have learnt to love her. Eventually. No, he thinks. I wouldn't love her in any world. "Then we share the same wish," he murmurs. "Now, about your proposition. What if I don't agree? What if I don't want to just let Gyuri go?"

"I will convince you one way or another."

"I do not care for the ties that you wish to cut, whatever they are," he tells her. "I have merely lent, you could say, my fiancée as part of a business deal I made months ago. I am not about to let her go to suit your purposes."

"You don't care about her at all."

"She is useful, and that is all that matters," Zitao growls. "Who are you to make inferences about my choices and life?"

"My status doesn't affect my ability to read people," Fei says calmly. "Which is just as well, because then I wouldn't be able to speak to you openly, seeing as I am above you."

"Above me?"

"Mm, yes." Fei smiles. "Oh, don't bother opening your mouth for answers. You won't get them."

Before Zitao can do or say anything in response, hands appear out of nowhere and seize him, their hold unbreakable. A cloth is pressed to his face, covering his nose and mouth. Slowly, his eyes begin to fall closed.

As black starts burning the edges of Zitao's vision, Fei's smile wavers in and out of clarity. The last thing he hears before going under is, "You really should have agreed to my preposition while I gave you the choice."

***

The warehouse by the Seine is indeed rust-coloured, and smells like it, too. The nearby river brings not only the smell of water to Max's nostrils, but also soot, mud, and traffic. Mixed with the rusty smell of the warehouse, the only way Max can think to describe the scent of his surroundings is death.

Thanks to Eun Seuk, in his hand is a black bag, inside which sits the Ravenheart, in all its dark beauty. The jewel has caused more trouble than Max could have ever predicted, and he thinks fleetingly that the sooner he gets this all over with, the sooner the darkness will be out of his life. That is, if he is still alive after tonight.

The sun has almost fully set; streaks of its orange body still spill over the horizon in hues of pink and red, bleeding onto the city. Max swallows, wondering if this is the last sunset he'll ever see.

He also wonders if T.O.P has somehow managed to convince Gyuri to come and kill him here, and if that is the case, then maybe that's why his boss had moved the deadline up. It seems his death can't come soon enough for everyone else except him.

After doing a perimeter around the building, Max finds that there are three entrances into the warehouse: two double doors at opposite ends of the building, and one on the roof. Max looks down at his watch, biting his lip. He is almost late, and although the roof entrance would be less predictable and would buy him some more time to check out the location whilst remaining undetected, he simply doesn't have the time.

He chooses the entrance furthest from the hole in the wire fence he had ducked through to get here, and pauses for a moment, pressing his ear against the warehouse doors in an attempt to detect any sounds of life.

Nothing.

Max tries one of the door handles; it's unlocked. Taking a deep breath, Max squares his shoulders and pushes the door open. His knees are slightly bent, ready to duck down, should any gunshots suddenly be fired his way.

But no gunshots slice through the night, and slowly, Max straightens, closing the door behind him. He knows it's probably a bad move, but a closed door is the least of his worries right now.

Inside, the warehouse is bigger than it had looked on the outside and the smell of death is ten times as strong. There's an upstairs gallery that runs along three of the four walls, and square patches Max had not seen before are missing from the ceiling, painting watery white squares of moonlight on the  dirty ground.

The windows lining the bottom floor of the warehouse are all boarded up, with some covered in places by newspapers printed decades ago. Square pillars hold the roof up, placed at regular intervals throughout the warehouse; three columns of five, Max counts. He wonders what kind of business this warehouse manufactured goods for.

Just as he is about to take a look around the place, the sound of a single person applauding fills the silence. Clap, clap, clap.

Max's head whips around wildly, trying to detect the source of the sound. His answer comes when the lights from the ceiling suddenly turn on, with the sound of a huge switch being pulled, and a figure standing on the gallery steps into the light.

T.O.P.

He's wearing a slim-cut suit, and all the colour has been drained from his slicked up hair; it's almost white now, the colour of an unforgiving winter, highlighting his dark eyebrows. The grin on his face doesn't do anything to warm his features as he calls, "Bravo! Bravo, Max. You have proven yourself to be a worthy apprentice." He eyes the bag in Max's hand, his eyebrows raising in response.

"What, because I didn't die?" Max yells.

T.O.P's eyes widen for just a moment, but it's long enough for Max to see the fear in them. "Die?"

"Don't you dare try to pretend you didn't want me dead." Max narrows his eyes. "I've been through while under your employment, and this is how you repay me? By ordering my death?"

"Who told you?"

Max shakes his head in disbelief. "Is this what you were planning to do if I didn't die?" He throws his arms wide; a challenge. "Did you plan to just accept that you can't kill me after you tried and that I am worthy to be your apprentice? Maybe later, you'll kill Gyuri for incompetence. Is that what you planned to do?"

"I didn't plan for any ending that included you alive, boy," T.O.P hisses, his voice practically seething with rage. "And maybe I would have had my way, if you hadn't known. Who told you?"

Max laughs, and would have done so even if T.O.P was right in his face. "I'd rather die than tell you the name of the next person you'll undoubtedly try to kill."

"Oh, you will die tonight," T.O.P promises. "I'll do it myself, since that obviously can't get the job done. You can never trust women, can you?"

"Is that why you kept a female secretary for so long? For her untrustworthiness?" Max realises that he's just said too much, but he tells himself that it doesn't matter, since his death is imminent.

T.O.P's breath catches sharply. "Fei," he breathes.

"Stop with the bull already," Max says, feigning exasperation. "You two were working together, weren't you? I found your business card with Fei's handwriting all over it in Gyuri's bedroom."

"Fei was never part of the collaboration," T.O.P says, half to himself.

"There was a collaboration," Max frowns, "and Fei wasn't part of it?"

"She was only a secretary, you idiot," T.O.P spits. "Why would she be part of any collaboration that includes me?"

"You underestimate her," Max says. "She may just have done a better job than the person you're collaborating with. I assume it was just Gyuri you worked with?"

At this, T.O.P smiles. "Gyuri has about as much power in her situation as you do. No, it wasn't her. The person I collaborated with was her fiancé, Huang