"War?" Jian repeated, struggling to keep up as Ren hopped off the storage unit roof and landed in the alleyway below. "Ren, we are two high schoolers with a stolen laptop and a book made of human skin. That's not a war. That's a federal indictment."
Ren ignored him, sliding into the passenger seat of the SUV.
"Drive," Ren commanded. "Back to the bunker. We know who bought the hit—Minister Shen. Now we need the proof to bury him."
Thirty minutes later, the atmosphere in Jian's basement was suffocating.
On the desk sat the black book. It lay open to the first page—the Contract of Soul Supply that Ren had glimpsed on the rooftop.
[ BUYER: MINISTER SHEN (NORTHERN OFFICE) ]
The name seemed to burn on the paper.
"Minister Shen," Jian whispered, pacing the room. "The Head of the Northern Office. Ren, this isn't just a corrupt cop. This is the Governor. If we have this contract, we have a smoking gun."
"A smoking gun isn't enough," Ren said, sitting in the gaming chair. "A name on a page can be forged. They'll claim Master Gui faked it. To destroy Shen, we need the transactions. The bank logs. The magical signatures."
Ren reached out to turn the page.
"Let's see the receipts."
His fingers brushed the corner of the page.
SNAP.
The book slammed shut with the force of a bear trap.
ZAP.
A spark of red electricity arced from the leather cover, snapping against Ren's skin. He hissed and pulled his hand back. Smoke curled from his fingertip.
[ SECURITY PROTOCOL ACTIVATED ]
[ UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED ]
[ LOCKDOWN INITIATED: TIER 2 ]
Ren stared at the book. The leather cover seemed to ripple, the runes glowing angry red. Then, a low, rhythmic thumping sound began to emanate from the spine.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"It bit me," Ren said, his voice flat.
"It's not just biting you," Jian said, his eyes widening as he looked at his monitor. "Ren, look at the signal output!"
On the screen, a red wave was pulsing outward from their location.
[ ALERT: HOMING BEACON ACTIVATED ]
[ SIGNAL: BROADCASTING GPS COORDINATES TO OWNER ]
"He knows," Jian whispered, horrified. "Ren, the book is calling home. Master Gui knows exactly where we are."
Ren stared at the book. "He put a tracker on his diary?"
"It's a 'Find My Device' spell!" Jian shouted, grabbing the baseball bat. "We have to leave! He'll send a kill squad!"
Ren didn't move. He watched the pulsing red light on the book.
"No," Ren said calmly. "We don't leave. This is good."
"Good?! How is this good?"
"Because if he knows where we are," Ren said, a cruel smile touching his lips, "he thinks he has the advantage. He thinks we are panicked prey."
Ren grabbed the book. It burned his hand, but he ignored it.
"He will be focusing on the signal. He won't be expecting us to come to him."
Ren looked at Jian. "Turn off the signal blocker."
"What?"
"Let the signal go out," Ren commanded. "Let him see us. But while he is looking at us... I need you to look at him."
"Ren, I don't understand—"
"The signal is a two-way street!" Ren snapped. "If the book is sending data to him, it has to connect to his receiver. Trace the connection back to the source!"
Jian blinked. Then, he scrambled to the keyboard.
"Backtracing the ping..." Jian muttered, his fingers flying. "Okay. Okay, I see it. The book is trying to handshake with a server."
A map of the city popped up. A single blue line traced from Jian's house, winding through the digital city, and landing on a specific point in the industrial district.
[ CONNECTION ESTABLISHED ]
[ DESTINATION: "THE LAST STOP" MEAT PACKING PLANT ]
"Got him," Jian whispered. "Five miles east. The Meat Packing District."
Ren stood up, the thrill of the hunt replacing his frustration.
"He's at a meat packing plant?" Ren asked.
"Zoning," Jian realized. "It has industrial drainage. Perfect for disposing of failed necromancy experiments."
Ren grabbed a rusted crowbar from the shelf. He weighed it in his hand.
"He thinks he's the hunter," Ren said, his eyes glowing green. "He thinks he's about to ambush two thieves."
Ren walked to the door.
"Jian, print me a fake ID. Make it look official."
"What department?" Jian asked, pulling up a template, his hands shaking.
Ren thought for a second.
"Department of Pest Control."
Ren checked the timer.
[ TIME UNTIL PURGE: 57 HOURS ]
"We leave now," Ren said. "Before he realizes the trap has turned."