...Fu Tailan was dead.
Chaisi slowly lowered his gun. Waves of recoil still pulsed through the muscles in his arm, his sinews feeling like humming strings.
He could hardly believe it.
Fu Tailan, who always had three backup plans for every sentence, who was so cunning and unpredictable it was like trying to grab a greased-up piece of lard... had he really died from a single bullet, just like any normal person?
'...But then, what other outcome could there have been?'
After pulling the trigger, Chaisi had watched with his own eyes as the bullet burst from the back of Fu Tailan's head, tore through a spray of blood and bone fragments, and slammed into the opposite wall.
As Fu Tailan staggered back from the shot, the detail that stuck with Chaisi the most was how the boy's arms had suddenly gone limp.
