Mei Lian crouched on the rooftop, rifle in hand, staring down into the alley where Aman stood no, where he remained. Covered in blood. Surrounded. Yet unbroken.
He didn't fight like a actual human anymore. He fought like an animal. Not for glory. Not even for vengeance. Just the pure instinct to survive.
And yet he still stood. Even after all that. Why?
He wanted to go back. To something. Someone.
He still had something to lose.
Mei Lian gritted her teeth. Her hands trembled as she held the rifle. She aimed.
But she couldn't shoot.
Not even when Carter had betrayed them. Not even then. She remembered that moment clearly. The trigger felt like a wall. And when she finally pulled it when she shot Carter in the neck that memory had never left her. It was like branding her own soul.
She acted calm. Like it didn't matter. But it did.
Ending someone's life? It haunted her.
It was sick.
It was terrible.
It was tempting.
Watching people like Aman and Carter push themselves to that threshold she wondered if one day she'd fall, too.
Below, Aman staggered.
One of the thugs buried a knife in his shoulder. Mei Lian gasped.
Aman snarled. He didn't scream. Just grabbed the knife, yanked it out, and hurled it into the attacker's face.
Blood sprayed. He ran. Limping. Another group came from the right.
He grabbed a pipe. Swung it with all his weight. One man crumpled. He threw the pipe into the face of the second, ducked a blade, elbowed the attacker, and slammed him against the wall.
How was he even still alive?
His eyes were blank. His body sluggish. But something deep inside him just wouldn't let him collapse.
Mei Lian watched as more bodies dropped.
She lowered the rifle.
She couldn't do it.
But neither could she stop him.
The alley was silent now. Broken bodies lay scattered. Some fled. Some bled out.
It was over. For now.
Aman dragged one of them against the wall. The man was barely alive.
"Aman," Mei Lian called.
He looked at her. A faint smile. Bloody, weary.
"Ah, Mei. You're here... must be worried, huh? Me, chasing people and gone for hours... I promised I wouldn't abandon you all, remember?" He chuckled, weakly. "But first, let me finish this one, okay?"
Mei Lian walked closer. She didn't smile.
"Yeah. I was worried," she said quietly.
Aman shoved the man hard into the wall. "Spill it."
"It wasn't us," the man gasped. "Some people paid us. Said to kill you. That's all I know, I swear!"
"Name," Aman demanded, squatting to meet his eyes.
"I don't know! I didn't make the deal! I'm just a hired blade!" The man panted. "But you're not going to let me live anyway, right? You just wanted an excuse..."
"Huh?" Aman leaned in, cupping his ear. "Didn't hear that."
His fist slammed into the man's face.
The man coughed blood. "You... you were just a kid... that's what they told us..."
Aman stomped on his chest.
Mei Lian grabbed Aman's shoulder.
"That's enough," she said. Not panicked. Not disgusted. Just firm.
He didn't flinch.
"Let him speak. It's no use to kill more. Not now."
Aman stepped back. Not because he was done. Because she told him to.
Mei Lian knelt.
"Tell me," she said. "I promise, he won't touch you. He listens to me so just told us and i promise his hand not gonna touch you".
...
Later
They stood outside a derelict building. The man had pointed here. Said it was the "nest" where the job came from.
Mei Lian clutched her borrowed rifle. She didn't like it.
"Be quick," she whispered.
"Can I borrow your Nambu?" Aman asked. "My snub nose is empty."
She handed it over.
Inside, the air reeked of incense, smoke, and cheap cologne. The furniture was expensive but arranged chaotically. Bad feng shui. Worse taste.
They weren't surprised when the two entered. They saw a girl. A bloodncovered boy.
They laughed.
Until Aman fired.
BANG.
The first man dropped. Shot clean through the cheek.
They reached for weapons.
BANG. BANG.
One fell over the couch. Another staggered back, clutching his neck, spraying arterial blood across a red velvet curtain.
Aman winced. His arm spasmed. The shoulder wound stung with every recoil.
But he kept firing.
Click. Click.
Empty. He grabbed a chair, hurled it into another man's face. Rushed. Slammed his knee into another's stomach.
Blood flew.
Mei Lian crouched by the wall. A spray of red landed on her sleeve. She didn't move.
More came from a side room.
Aman threw himself behind an overturned table. Reloaded the Nambu. Each round took seconds. Seconds that could cost his life.
Another man lunged. Aman fired through the table.
The man screamed. Dropped.
The others hesitated. Fear set in.
They started backing off.
One by one, Aman cut them down. Limping. Bloody. Eyes unfocused.
He was human. He grunted every time someone landed a hit. A pipe slammed into his ribs once. He wheezed. Almost collapsed.
But he stood up.
They tried to retreat.
He didn't let them.
A final door. He kicked it open.
The boss was waiting.
Middle aged. Fancy suit. Gun in hand. But not aimed at Aman.
It was aimed at his own head.
Aman raised the pistol. "You gonna talk?"
The man smiled.
BANG.
He slumped over. Dead.
...
Outside, the sun had almost vanished.
"My clothes are ruined," Mei Lian muttered. "Your fault."
"I'll get you new ones. Promise," Aman said, chuckling weakly.
They walked.
Slow.
Quiet.
Blood on their boots.
"That was... messier than expected," Mei Lian said. "Who knew? The boss would rather eat a bullet than speak."
"Coward's way out," Aman said. Then added: "Or maybe the smart one."
She looked at him.
He was still him.
But not the same.
He didn't get any answers.
He never did.
But he still walked.
He didn't consider suicide. Not yet. He had people. Mei Lian. Latif. Maybe even Melati.
He had something left to lose.
So he kept walking.
For now.
Until someone took that away, too.
The day got darker so he life.