Asking Fu Tailan for a straight answer was like asking a rattlesnake to hand over its venom.
Chaisi knew it. Fu Tailan knew it too.
He'd been a Hunter since he was twelve — what does a twelve-year-old have? No one to watch his back, no resources, no muscle, couldn't even get his hands on a gun.
Fu Tailan had survived this long on exactly two things: his brain and his lies.
That said, he was actually starting to regret it a little — regret running his mouth so many times over the years. It had created a boy-who-cried-wolf effect. Now, no matter how hard he swore up and down that he was telling the truth, nobody believed a word of it.
"I'm really, truly not lying to you."
