The Tulip Hotel stood as an oasis of brutal pragmatism where the Sixth Settlement's outer squalor met inner decadence. Its gilded lobby doors contrasted sharply with the twin .50 caliber anti-aircraft guns mounted on the roof—a necessary flourish in a world where security trumped aesthetics.
Jiang Chen lounged on imported leather, spearing a mandarin orange slice from a glass jar while two sets of eyes tracked his every move.
"Stop staring," he chided Sun Jiao, then nodded toward their trussed-up captive writhing on the bloodstained carpet. "Let's resolve this quickly so we can enjoy dinner."
Hu Lei whimpered as cold steel pressed against his skull. The tracker had maintained his cover story—just a starving refugee—until Sun Jiao's interrogation methods grew creative.
"Nine," she counted, hefting a steel pipe.
"I swear I don't—"
"Seven." The pipe whistled through air.
"One." She raised her arm.
"Wait." Jiang Chen's voice cut through Hu Lei's screams. The stench of urine filled the room as their captive soiled himself. "I prefer transactions to violence."
Hope flashed in Hu Lei's eyes—until Jiang Chen's next words:
"Of course, if you insist on lying, we could always chain a rabid hound to your crotch. They do love gnawing..."
Both men shuddered.
The Gray Moth Revelation
Under alternating threats and bribes (a shimmering 100-Yajing crystal proved irresistible), Hu Lei spilled everything:
Gray Moth Mercenaries: Slavers/raiders based in Songjiang's abandoned elementary school
Operation: Scout potential targets for Zhou Guoping's trade caravan
Motivation: Jiang Chen's VIP lounge transaction had marked him as premium prey
Sun Jiao's boot tapped an impatient rhythm as Jiang Chen considered their options. The crystal hovered tantalizingly above Hu Lei's grasping fingers—
Bang.
Brain matter painted the wallpaper. Jiang Chen's hand trembled slightly around the smoking pistol.
"Bloodstains are hell to remove," Sun Jiao remarked, plucking at her spattered top. "I could've done that."
"Needed the practice." Jiang Chen exhaled sharply as warm arms encircled him from behind.
Sun Jiao's lips brushed his ear. "You'll stay, won't you?"
The question hung between them—his secret laid bare without words.
"Always," he promised, turning to claim her mouth.
What followed was equal parts catharsis and claiming:
Against the bathroom tiles: Sun Jiao's legs locked around his waist as water sluiced over them
Genetic enhancements proved: His C-grade augmentations delivered stamina matching her wasteland-hardened physique
Post-coital assessment: "Feet barely touched ground," she purred, tracing new muscle definition on his chest
As they dressed amidst carnage and condensation, reality reasserted itself.
"Dinner can wait," Sun Jiao said, buckling her holster. "First, we gift-wrap this mess for housekeeping."
Jiang Chen chuckled darkly. Making love beside a corpse—perhaps the most wasteland thing they'd done yet.
Strategic Considerations:
1.Gray Moth Threat: 30+ combatants with mixed energy/kinetic weapons
2.Home Advantage: School's fortified walls negate stealth approaches
3.Opportunity: Mercenaries won't expect retaliation
Sun Jiao's grin promised violence as she palmed a grenade. "I know a backdoor through the sewers."
The hunter was about to become the hunted.