After Satro and I parted ways in the narrow alley, I returned home, my heart heavy with a familiar ache. I stood before the mirror, staring at the faint graze on my hand—a shallow cut from Satro's bullet. It was his signature; Satro never left a meeting without leaving a mark, a reminder that he could have taken my life if he truly wanted to.
I collapsed onto the sofa, my mind drifting back to the days after Tian Long found me in the darkness of the Pyramid's corridors. I wasn't raised as a girl; I was forged as a weapon, a tool for the underground syndicates.
I remembered the first time he took me to his headquarters to strike a deal with a wealthy elite. It was a vast, subterranean hall where the heavy scent of expensive Chinese incense mingled with the sterile smell of medical disinfectants. There were rows of beds, and on them, children.
"Father, what is this place?" I had whispered as a child.
Tian Long replied in his calm, terrifyingly steady voice: "It is a sanctuary, S. A refuge for children abandoned by their families."
I remember thinking then—with a child's naivety—that he was a saint. He had saved me from the dark, and now he was saving them from the streets. But then, he stopped in front of a bed where a young boy sat. He had soft, raven hair falling over his eyes, but his gaze was vacant, as if his soul had been hollowed out.
That boy was Satro.
"You are leaving today," Tian Long said to the boy. "A powerful man is adopting you."
A man draped in luxury approached. He didn't look at the boy with love, but with the cold scrutiny of a merchant inspecting a diamond. "Is the asset ready?" he asked.
"He is," Tian Long replied coldly. "He remembers nothing of his past. You are free to graft whatever memories you wish onto his mind. He will be your greatest masterpiece."
"Father, why can't he stay with me and Sai?" I pleaded.
Tian Long didn't even look at me. "Mr. Watanabe will be his father now. Do not worry, S. This boy will become the finest hunter in Tokyo—your father's most profitable 'currency'."
The man handed over a thick briefcase of cash and led Satro away. The boy didn't cry; he didn't even look back. He was no longer a person. He was Satro #002. Just as I was S#003.
"Father," I asked, trembling, "Why do we have codes instead of names like yours or Sai's?"
Tian Long's eyes turned to me, cold and ancient. "Because names die, S. But codes... codes remain in the ledgers forever. You aren't just a daughter; you are an investment. You'll understand later."
I still didn't understand why a group of us were treated as serial numbers rather than human beings.
The shrill ring of my phone shattered my thoughts. It was Satro. He wanted to meet again.
We stood in a deserted alleyway under a flickering yellow streetlamp. The cold night breeze toyed with my hair as Satro stood there, emotionless, flipping a silver coin between his fingers with hypnotic precision.
"Your father is giving you a warning," Satro said, his voice as sharp as glass. "Stay away from Detective Ming. If you don't retreat and focus on the 'Hunt,' he won't just punish you—he will erase the detective from existence."
[Detective Ming's POV]:
I watched the exchange from the shadows of the opposite building. I could see the tension in S's shoulders and the icy demeanor of the Japanese man. It was clear now. I wasn't just investigating a crime; I was being watched by a monster who thinks he owns the world. I am now officially in Tian Long's line of sight.