“Who the fuck was slacking?!” Elizabeth howled. Everyone in the office heard it. From the tapping of keyboards to hushed conversation to sound of footsteps, every noise died down.

Levin stopped typing and poked his head out of his cubicle. Who pissed her off this time?

“Levin, Ruby, get the fuck over here!”

Levin shot to his feet and sprinted to her office. As much as he didn’t want to see her when she was so angry, he knew he had to. Ruby reached the door at the same time. They shared a look of anxiety and confusion before entering.

“Call everyone we have in Beverly Hills. The Duke’s motherfucking lackey just shot Louise. Someone from Hopkins is fighting the Duke himself, but she’s still being chased by the lackey.”

Ruby and Levin stared at her in shock. “What?”

There have to be a dozen Shields members in Beverly Hills, Levin thought. How did no one see him?

“What the hell are you just standing around for? You heard me, so get the fuck on it!”

Levin and Ruby immediately pulled out their phones and made calls.

. . . .

The vending machine popped out a can of beer. Raine picked it up and inspected it. This is some high quality beer. Wow. But it’s damn expensive.

With beer in one hand and his crutch in the other, he made his way to the elevator lobby. His slow pace made think him about how he could speed up his recovery. Exercise? It should improve blood flow.

He pressed the elevator button. Maybe I should do some arm exercises. Bicep curls and lateral raises, I guess.

Ding. The elevator arrived. Raine stepped inside. And then he heard a deafening crash. Glass shattered. People screamed and shouted. A car honked—from inside the hotel lobby.

What the fuck is going on? He held open the elevator door and took a look.

The few people in the lobby were screaming, shouting, and running. Glass was all over the floor. The main entrance was a goner; the automated glass doors had been destroyed. At the center of the lobby was a black Bolstridge with a ruined front bumper and a body covered in large dents and long scratches. There was a penny-sized hole in the front windshield.

Raine knew whose car it was from the license plate.

As he hesitantly left the elevator, he heard a distant gunshot from the streets. It was nothing like what he’d heard from the pistol he’d been shot with. It was like an explosion. This really isn’t what I was expecting when I heard I was going to work in Beverly Hills.

The driver’s side door opened. A woman fell out of the car. She was covered in blood.

Oh god. Raine dropped his beer and dashed to Louise. The pain in his injured leg was intense enough to bring tears to his eyes, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. Louise slowly sat up as he approached, and he saw that she was bleeding from two places, her shoulder and her stomach. It was a horrifying sight. He hurriedly took off his jacket and wrapped it around the part of her stomach where blood was streaming out. “Louise?”

“Shit. You of all people,” Louise said. Her voice was so weak he had to strain to hear her. “Lemons and lemonade, I guess. Get in the car and get the fuck out of here.”

Her hand pushed him toward the car.

“Is it another kidnapping attempt?” he asked. She nodded.

As much as that response worried him, he had to first focus on wrapping up her bleeding shoulder. His gaze shot about their surroundings, searching for something he could wrap the wound with. There was nothing. He looked down at his own shirt. It had short sleeves, but together they could do the job. He tore them off. His fingers were clumsy from anxiety, but he managed to tie them together and then tie them around her bleeding shoulder.

“Ruby is—” she paused and took a deep breath “—on the way. So get in the fucking car. Drive. Get the fuck away.”

Raine had no idea where she got her strength from. She shoved him onto the driver’s seat with a grunt. Then she laid on the ground, looking utterly drained of energy. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Raine stared at her with concern.

“Fucking go,” she said weakly. “Shields will pay you; I goddamn guarantee it. So quit wasting time.”

Really, money? That’s not the goddamn problem. Staring at her lying on the ground, he was racked with indecision for a moment. Then he heard another gunshot from the streets. His hand went to the gearshift, and he reversed the car out of the lobby.

He drove. He had no idea where he was supposed to go, but it seemed like a good start to head in the opposite direction of the gunfire.

Even though he was sitting down now, waves of pain still hit his injured leg, making him wince. But it was easy to keep his mind off the pain. All he had to do was think about Louise’s injuries and look at the hole in the windshield. That’s a fucking bullet hole.

He glanced Sora through the rearview mirror. She was lying on the back seats, passed out. He was concerned. Did she get drugged?

Then he looked for anyone following him. It made him nervous when a car stayed behind him for much longer than five minutes, but it eventually made a turn.

But there was a motorcycle afterward. Wearing a bomber jacket and smoking a cigarette, he rode up to the Bolstridge and, just as Raine thought he would pass, slowed down and stayed behind the car.

What the fuck? Raine hit the gas and ran a yellow light. The motorcyclist followed, except for him, the light should have been red.

The motorcyclist tossed his cigarette onto the street. He unzipped his jacket halfway and reached into it with his left hand. Raine’s eyes widened. Goddammit.

There was no time for naivety, no time to hope that the man wasn’t pulling a pistol out of his jacket. Heart pumping, hands sweating, he made a sudden left turn. He glanced at the rearview mirror. The motorcyclist was still there. A gun was in his hand now. He raised it at the Bolstridge. Raine hit the breaks.

The motorcyclist went left. He narrowly avoided hitting the car and almost lost control of his bike. Raine took the opportunity to turn the car around, against oncoming traffic, and drove away from the motorcyclist.

It wasn’t long before Raine saw him again in the rearview mirror. The motorcyclist kept a greater distance this time.

Raine wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. What a fucking persistant guy.

At an intersection, the motorcyclist accelerated. He came up on Raine’s left with his pistol raised at him. Raine quickly turned right.

The motorcyclist was behind him now. Raine tried the same trick as before, slowing down suddenly. It didn’t work. The motorcyclist was ready. He slowed down as well and went to Raine’s left again.

So once more, Raine made a right turn. He was heading back toward the hotel, and he knew it. “Fuck.”

He probably has a partner in this direction. At the next intersection, Raine tried to make a turn left.

Bang! A bullet went right through the passenger’s side window, shattering it completely, and punched another hole through the windshield.

Raine’s hands trembled as he stared at the new bullet hole in the windshield. Holy shit.

He gripped the wheel tighter and took a deep breath. He accelerated. There was just something he had in mind. It was violent and dangerous. He went for it without hesitation.

Here’s fucking hoping I’m not going to jail for this. He kept his foot on the accelerator. The motorcyclist followed.

Then he slammed on the breaks. As expected, the motorcycle went left again. Raine guessed it was a habit. Whatever it was, he took advantage of it. He made a sharp left.

As he tried to avoid the Bolstridge, the motorcyclist fired at the car and missed completely. Raine couldn’t see the guy’s expression, but it was probably one of panic. They collided.

Take that, you bastard. The impact jerked Raine in his seat, but his seatbelt kept him in place. The airbags didn’t come out, to his relief. He hit the accelerator and drove away. Behind, he saw the motorcycle toppled on its side, sliding to a halt. The motorcyclist was tumbling uncontrollably on the street.

Raine’s sense of triumph dissipated. I just did that. Holy shit. Did I kill him?

He took a deep breath. It’s okay. It’s okay. Self-defense. He fucking shot at me. The bullet could have hit me. But wait, I’m driving away from him. Isn’t that a hit-and-run?

He dialled 911 and waited anxiously.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello, I just uh...hit a motorcyclist on the road in self-defense. He pulled out a pistol, chased me, and shot at me.”

“Sir, what is your location?”

He didn’t actually know, so he had to take a second to look for a sign. As he did so, he heard a conversation over the phone.

“Forward the call to Don,” a faint voice said.

“I’m sorry?” the operator said.

“Just forward it to him,” the voice said sternly.

“Alright, alright. Sir,” she said, addressing Raine now, “I’m going to be forwarding you to a colleague.”

Raine waited. He had his suspicions about why the call was being sent to someone else. The call connected. It wasn’t who he’d expected.

“Oh my god, you smacked the bastard!” A familiar female voice came through the phone. Raine cringed at the volume. “Niceee!”

“Pass it to me.” It was Song Hyun-woo. “Williams, good job. Are you hurt?”

“No, no. I’m fine,” he said. “But what the hell is going on?”

“A wanted man tried to kidnap Sora Takeuchi. We subdued him, but not his subordinate. That was the person you took down.”

What a euphemistic way to put it. “I might have killed the guy, honestly.”

“That’s not a problem,” Song Hyun-woo said casually. “You should head back to the hotel now. Hall’s men should be there by now.”

Not a problem? Raine’s eyes went to the rearview mirror. The motorcyclist was on the ground, unmoving. Raine stared at him for a moment. Then, shaking his head, he headed for the hotel.

. . . .

“That was great.” Song Hyun-woo leaned back and hit the back arrow on the keyboard twice, replaying the last ten seconds of the video. “He wasn’t scared to do what was necessary.”

“Yeah. But he should’ve whacked the bastard earlier.” Ava stared at the screen as well with a can of coffee in one hand. She drank and said, “More importantly, since Kim Jun-seo has the Duke, Karlis is going to give us the big bucks. Make sure to give me my cut.”

Song Hyun-woo frowned. “We first have to find which Follower made the portal for him.”

“Probably one of the Lights. They’re so damn gullible.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions.” Then he thought about it for a moment. “Okay, it’s not unlikely that it’s one of them.”

Ava grinned. “So I’m right.”

“I said it isn’t unlikely. I didn’t say it’s probable.” He sighed and looked at her. “And are you even ready to go to the New World again?”

“Of course I am.” Her grin was gone. “I finished packing before I got here.”

That wasn’t what he’d meant, but he had a feeling she knew that. He didn’t blame her for not giving him a real answer.

She gulped down the last of her coffee and left the room to throw out the can. He watched her go and wondered if she really was ready to experience the Expansion again. She’d gone to the New World the first time at just 16. He wanted to sock the bastard who’d sent her then, but the man was already dead.

Song Hyun-woo’s gaze returned to the screen. He closed the currently open window and pulled up the file on Raine. One of the documents inside gave an overview of Raine as a candidate. Song Hyun-woo opened it and skimmed through it before adding one line: “Capable of inflicting potentially lethal harm when necessary.”

His hands left the keyboard, and he leaned back with his eyes still on the screen.

Raine hadn’t lived an easy life. He had endured extreme emotional suffering before and could do it again. But still, Song Hyun-woo wondered how he would do in the New World and, more importantly, how he would react to the Expansion. Will he break?

Song Hyun-woo thought about it. He’d been surprised too many times to be certain but after a minute of thought, going over what he knew of Raine’s past, he thought he had the answer.

He frowned. Yeah. Yeah, he’s probably going to break.