"That warehouse you can see from here," Jian Hao panted, pointing toward the distant silhouette behind the crumbling buildings, "that's where I'm from. You can get guns there… and food… even… even women!"
He threw the last part in desperately, his voice trembling, as if each added detail would make this strange, powerful man stay.
The handsome man raised an eyebrow, amused, his expression unreadable. The afternoon sun caught the side of his pale face, casting a sharp shadow over his cheekbones. "That sounds appealing," he murmured, slow and deliberate, "but why are you telling me this?"
He started to walk back toward him.
This time, Jian Hao didn't make the same mistake. The moment the man's boots crunched against the gravel, Jian Hao instinctively stepped backward. Every step forward the man took, he took one back. Fast. His legs quivered.
