He took a step closer. His voice low and firm he said, "From now on, he is your responsibility. If he goes astray, you know what you have to do." He handed the shotgun to Han Xin, who accepted it without hesitation, his grip steady and sure.
He pulled him close, positioning him to aim at the next target. Han Xin's expression was cold and indifferent as he pulled the trigger, the shot echoing through the air. Another clay pigeon disintegrated a testament to his skill.
Shi Wen, watching from the sidelines, chuckled appreciatively. "Like father, like son," he said, patting the Dragon Head's shoulder. "He's just as ruthless as you, old man."
Old Han nodded, a rare smile touching his lips. "Indeed," he replied, pride and a hint of something darker gleaming in his eyes. The bond between father and son was forged in steel and blood, and in this world, that was the only way to survive.
***
