In the murky parts of the city a blue neon sign hangs over a bar that reads, Blue Fist Bar. The bar is mostly full of people who keep to themselves but smell of danger and violence. At the bar, the familiar figure of the scarred man sits at the bar sipping a chilled glass of Jack and Coke.
Before long, another familiar hooded figure appears in the bar doorway. The hooded man politely pulls down his hood to reveal a thin middle-aged man’s face with sharp features and cold dark eyes. The middle-aged killer named Zhū casually takes a seat at the bar and says, “I’ll have a Snakebite.” The bartender nods his head in reply and prepares the fine whiskey with a dash of lemon in a chilled glass. Within seconds, the bartender places the drink onto the counter before moving towards another customer.
Zhū cautiously studies the drink in hand, before even going as far as bringing the drink close to his nose for a whiff. “For god’s sake man, drink it already!” The scarred man grunted in frustration.
Zhū snorts in reply and says, “Peasant, this is what’s kept me alive all these years. Besides it’s the best way to truly enjoy a good whiskey.” Zhū tilts his head back and downs his drink in a single shot, before letting out a gasp of satisfaction at the bitter, but perfect taste.
Zhū places his glass back onto the bar with satisfaction and gestures to the bartender for another glass. Zhū turns towards the scarred man and says, “It’s been some time since we’ve got together, Yì. So please tell me what’s on your mind?”
Yì takes another sip from his glass and says, “I need this to be off the record and your boss can’t know.”
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Zhū’s eyes grow cold as he says, “It will depend on what it is, but it will cost you.”
“Fine,” Yì grunts in firm agreement.
Zhū eyes the figure of Yì for a moment before asking, “So, what is that you need?”
“I need you to investigate someone for me,” Yì replied.
“Very well, but it will cost you depending on what exactly it is that you want.”
“I need a thorough investigation done on the target but mostly I want you to keep an eye on the target.”
“What is the identity of my target?”
The two men pause as the bartender returns with drink in hand. The two men only begin to converse as soon as the bartender moves away. Yì cautiously pulls out a single white envelope from his jacket and passes it across the bar towards Zhū.
Zhū opens the envelope to find a single name and photo of the target, Reyn Mephistopheles. Zhū’s eyes widen in recognition of the figure and hesitates for a moment as he remembers his boss’s candid words. However, he also remembered his gut feeling that there was something off about this woman. And his moto in life was that it was better to be safe than sorry. How else had he outlived his enemies and starch opponents?
“Done, now about my pay?” Zhū professionally asked not betraying his personal interest in the target.
“Standard fees and should you find anything, double that amount,” Yì grumbled back.
“Perfect. But if I may ask, why her? There is nothing special about this woman other than being a foreigner,” Zhū curiously asked.
“There’s something off about her,” Yì replied quietly before getting up. “And if your breath a word about this to anyone, you will regret it, Zhū.” And with a final glare, Yì marched away.
Zhū mutters under his breath, “Stone cold faced bastard.” Glancing once more at his target, Zhū crumbles the ball into ash, before downing his drink and heading out the door. The bar scene continues as usual without any notice of the particular transaction. After all, in this type of establishment such transactions were a common sight.