Fang Zhao's move caught them both by surprise. This wasn't part of the plan.
The man blocking the apartment door secretly cursed their employer. Didn't you say this kid was an artist type?
An assassin, no question. A composer? Hell no!
His temple pressed against the barrel of a gun, he swallowed the comment he was about to make and lowered his hand carrying the electric rod.
The two of them had been working black streets for some time. They had completed quite a few jobs, so they knew who was faking it, who was a paper tiger. They could deduce from a single move or look.
The way Fang Zhao handled his gun and the look in his eyes scared the man blocking the door shitless. He could tell Fang Zhao's composure and proficiency weren't faked. He knew that if they made the wrong move, Fang Zhao would pull the trigger.
