March 20th, 10:12 PM — Longwan Mall, Service Wing
John Wang POV
———
The silence was almost perfect.
Tang Wei had fallen asleep forty minutes ago, bundled beneath her jacket and half-zipped into her sleeping bag, one hand still resting near her shotgun. The others were out cold—snoring lightly, breathing slow, no movement beyond the occasional twitch of a leg or turn of a head.
I sat cross-legged beside the ammo case, sliding rounds into magazines by feel.
The rhythm was simple. Calming. Click. Slide. Tap. Stack.
Nine-millimetre rounds for Chen and Deng Hua. Buckshot for Tang Wei and Liang Mei. The motion kept my hands busy and my mind still, one mag at a time.
My system pinged softly with restock notices. I ignored them.
Then—
clink
A sound.
Soft. Faint. But there.
My fingers paused above the next magazine. I didn't move. Just listened.
A slow drag. Like bone scraping metal. Then a pause. Then again. Drag. Scratch. Silence.
It came from above.
The vents.
