Xiang Yu's fingers moved with practiced precision as he picked up several handguns, his eyes never leaving the surveillance monitors. The cold metal of the weapons felt reassuring in his grip. He dialled Old Song's number, the phone ringing loudly in the otherwise silent room.
Old Song, who had long fallen asleep, jolted awake at the sound. He answered immediately, his voice groggy but alert. "What's wrong?"
"We are under attack," Xiang Yu said, his voice calm but urgent. "Some gunmen broke in."
Old Song was already on his feet, pulling on his jacket. "Is anyone hurt? Do you need backup?"
"No," Xiang Yu replied, sliding a knife into his boot. "Just get a cleanup crew for me. It's going to be very messy."
"Okay, okay," Old Song said, his voice steadying. "I will call them. Just be careful."
