Zhang Ziwen lazily cast a glance at Chen Yan. He was right; he wouldn't see that strange girl from the Night of Tokyo again. Zhang Ziwen sighed inwardly—life, indeed, was bound to have one or two strange encounters.
"Your turn to take care of the aftermath of this target, so easy for you, always getting the clean jobs." Clearing Little Beard's body was a hassle for Chen Yan, barely finishing it when someone showed up. Almost too close for comfort.
"Stop haggling with me. It was agreed beforehand—I only do the hit, you do the follow-up. Want to change it now? No way." Zhang Ziwen immediately refused. He was certain moving bodies was not something he wanted to do.
"Please... Grandpa Zhang, you really need to do this part. I'm not skilled enough for it. If my skills fail you, you'll have to do the work of two people." Chen Yan annoyingly wriggled out of the commitment, with a persistence bordering on sycophancy.
