Mya didn't say anything right away.
Her hands were clenched together in front of her, fingers twisting into one another, pressing into each other as if she were trying to grasp something tangible, something real. The din of the receptionist room receded into background noise, becoming a dull hum just behind her ears. All she heard was her breathing.
My sisters
The words that those two had given her were repeated again and again, not as a promise, but as a knife held just against her throat.
"You…really know something about them?"Mya swallowed, making her voice work
Her eyes came up slowly, warily, afraid of what she might read in the expression of Shuren's face. She could feel the danger of hope, and she knew that in a place like this, hope was a dangerous emotion, the kind of emotion that could get a person killed.
Shuren did not immediately respond.
She stood there, her hands in the pockets of her jacket, her gaze unchanging and unreadable, seeming to determine whether Mya's question made it worth the expenditure of breath to answer her.
Assad kept mum.
He watched her as the shoulders of Mya start to shake, saw her so near to breaking down, and for once since he had stepped into this agency, something finally made much sense to him: this had nothing to do with missions or ranks or flaws.
"Well, in case you have forgotten. You still haven't given me a single bit of information on how your sisters got kidnapped." Shuren said.
Mya didn't respond yet again, with a slight bit of fear strangling her she asked herself why didn't she give more about the past or about the kidnapping. Maybe Assad was right; she was filled with desperation and there was nothing she could do to subside it.
"But we do have a slight idea on their location."
Mya jolted up in surprise after hearing Shuren's statement.
"What do you mean?"
"Damn,you weren't listening at all. Assad mentioned a person called Zheng Yan. We believe he might be the person who kidnapped your sisters."
Mya stood confused for a moment, the name Zheng Yan did feel familiar but she couldn't recall where.
"Zheng Yan is a ruthless young prince as the people would call it of the underworld. Basically he is the mastermind of every crime you could think of, whether it being kidnappings,drug dealings or just in general other types of crimes one could think of."
Shuren's explanation made the room quiet. Actually Assad was quiet in his head. This Zheng Yan character kind of reminded him of other dangerous figures from his earth and judging from his small description he fits the role of Pablo Escobar.
Just the name itself made him shiver, even a normal person would.But that adds more to the question of what this world is. The Chinatown setting and someone who is the literal copy of Pablo Escobar. Is this world an alternate universe?
That question can be answered later as of right now the important thing is the sister kidnapping.
Shuren continued with her detailed explanation of Zheng Yan.
"In spite of that, there is still more to him that makes him more than a mystery." Shuren said.
"And why do you say that?" Assad asked.
"We had another case that was unsolved and it directly led to him, Taura you should recall what that specific case was about right?"
Taura stayed quiet, quickly trying to remember the case that Shuren was talking about. Eventually after some hard thinking she finally caught on.
"By unsolved case are you referring to that grey almost moon looking chain?"
Shuren nodded in response to Taura's question in which Taura finally understood and nodded back but inside she was delighted, it's been months since she had a head nod provided by Shuren which for some reason its like a trophy for some of the Sweepers and Shuren does not even have the slightest clue of this entire thing.
"So what your tryna day baby-baby is that Zheng Yan has both the sisters and the artifact, The Necklace Of Pestilence. How come I don't know about this when I should be the one distributing the job information?"
Nobody spoke a word, making Pixia's complaint awkward. Shuren slowly approaches Pixa's table. She then stood next to her, quiet as ever and her expression unreadable. Pixia just stared as well confused.
Then a hand grasped Pixia's head and was brought closer to Shuren's chest. Taura, Assad and Mya simply observed, is what a dumb person would say. In reality they were extremely shocked at what they were seeing. Taura especially, she had suspiciousings that something was going on between the two.
"It's okay, calm yourself. You're right we should have at least told you everything but since we were busy it just…slipped out." Shuren said, slowly stroking Pixia's head.
Now everyone was entirely shocked there is something going on between these two. Shuren then lets go of Pixia and gives her some room to breathe.
"Alright now that's clear, let's move on to the next step of our Zheng Yan case."
In the warm, intimate glow of an opulent study, a man sat alone in the softly lit space, the smooth illumination of the chandelier lighting his figure. Classical music played softly in the background, the smooth strains of the violin floating on the currents of air like wisps of smoke.
He was holding a half-empty glass of amber-colored whiskey and was swirling its liquid content to catch the flickering light of the fireplace.
Mischa stepped through the doors of the mansion, briefcase in hand, briefcase, with her usual precision of movement, stopped several feet away, and she bowed slightly as she spoke with customary precision of tone, saying:
"Young Master, I've brought the briefcases you requested."
The man looked up from his drink.
His black hair was short, perfectly styled, and framed a face that was always set into a frown. His sharp green eyes sparkled beneath a calculated and cold brow.
He set his glass down carefully. The sound of the glass hitting the desk echoed through the room.
A slow smile crept across his lips.
"Good, put them on the table," he said, his voice smooth, heavy with authority.
Mischa moved forward and put the briefcases down carefully on the glass-topped table. The sound of latches snapping shut echoed through the room. Zheng Yan leaned back once more into his armchair and kept his eyes fixed intently on her without ever blenching an eyelid. He picked up his glass once again, and the gold liquid sparkled as he swirled it, his eyes riveted on every movement of hers.
"How did it go?" he asked at last, his voice steady. too steady.
Mischa paused, a fleeting instant. Then a faint smile formed on her lips, an intimation of mischief seeping through her composed demeanor. A recollection floated to the surface: the look on the dealer's face, enraged as she corrected the crookedness of his tie, the fear that supplanted his anger just before she walked away.
"It went perfectly," she answered softly, her smile growing even wider as she relished the idea.
Zheng Yan's lips twisted into a knowing, knowing smile that was never mirrored in his eyes. He raised his glass, took an unhurried sip, then set it down with careful consideration.
"Good," he said, and satisfaction was threaded through the one-word verdict.
Then his tone shifted just slightly.
"And when you took them, Mischa… there was no trouble, was there?"
The question hung in the air like smoke. For a moment, her composure cracked. Taura. Assad. The chase. The chaos.
Then it vanished.
"No, young Master nothing happened." she said smoothly.
Zheng Yan looked at her without uttering a word; the green in his eyes shone more brightly, his gaze piercing through her and seemingly peeling apart her words layer by layer.
He smiled again after some time, this time with real amusement.
"Excellent."