But on his screen, the thermal image of the thief blurred…
Then, it vanished entirely.
Like they'd stepped into thin air.
The stairwell door slammed open as Ting Cheng hit the first step, shoes striking metal with a steady, relentless rhythm.
Below him, the shadow moved fast, just the flicker of a black-gloved hand on the railing before it vanished around the bend.
He didn't shout and didn't waste any breath. Every muscle focused on closing the distance.
Service Tunnel
The air here was colder, heavy with the metallic tang of damp steel.
Ahead, the thief's silhouette flickered in and out of the dim red emergency lights, the containment tube hugged tight to their chest.
They ducked under a low pipe. Ting Cheng didn't bother, he slid across the wet floor, coming up with only a stride behind.
The figure threw a glance over their shoulder, just enough for him to see the glint of a half-mask before they spun, kicking a rolling cart into his path.
