Bullet Points

Glitch

Han Shangyan wasn't a man of many words, but he was beyond certain of one thing; he was going to murder Sun Yaya.

The weary CTF veteran knew from the devilish glint in her eyes that Tong Nian's so-called 'best friend' did not have the purest of intentions. In fact, he would even go as far as to say that her cherubic face actually concealed the heart of a demon. Xiao Mi may think she was the best thing since sliced bread, but Gun knew better - she was actually the devil in disguise. The girl was naught but a lovely poison, intent on killing him where he stood. If Yaya had taken a knife and driven it straight through his ribcage, Gun sincerely doubted that she could have inflicted more damage. Although, he sincerely doubted that the criminal in question would see her actions in the same way - he would wager that the girl herself would simply argue she was performing her duty as a 'best friend'.

Han Shangyan knew exactly what she was up to and he was embarrassed to admit that it was working. He should really know better; Gun was far too old a dog to be fooled by new tricks. Let the record state that he could spot a carefully curated subterfuge from a mile off – what type of CTF veteran would he be if he couldn't? It didn't seem to matter; although he knew he was being played like a poorly designed RPG, Gun's blood was still boiling in his veins. If he wasn't careful, his head would soon blow off and spin into the stratosphere. Sun Yaya was out to get him, he would put money on it. Unfortunately, Tong Nian, naive, trusting, silly little girl that she was, hadn't an inkling that she was merely the bait in her friend's cunning trap.

Han Shangyan was livid and he found himself pondering if his face alone would be enough to acquit him for murder.

The dreadful, pulsating music thumped obnoxiously, oscillating throughout his entire being – it was so loud that Han Shangyan could feel it vibrate the very skeleton inside him. Almost enough to drown out the raw wound that the sight of Tong Nian scored into his heart. Chance would be a fine thing. However, Gun could barely even hear the awful music (if you could call it that); he was too busy grinding his teeth together furiously, his eyes fixed like a hunting dog on the girl who used to be his. The girl who he was most decidedly not allowed to have and to hold as his own any longer. Her unexpectedly terrifying mother had decreed it so and it turned out that Han Shangyan was nothing but a glorified coward in the face of adversity – what an utter disappointment he was to himself and everything he used to stand for! The lovelorn K and K leader didn't even know if he even deserved to so much as look in Tong Nian's direction any longer.

He was so pathetic; thirty years old and here he was, standing in the corner of a darkened club, knuckles white and heart aching as he clutched an almost empty glass of whiskey with bloodlust in his veins. He really needed to get a grip on his spiralling temper before he caused even more damage than he already had. It was easier said than done; how could he be expected to keep his cool when the girl he loved with a ferocity that startled even himself was close enough to touch, and yet as distant as the moon simultaneously? He had never been good at letting go and the sting of their separation was still raw and bleeding – Gun wasn't sure how he could handle being around Tong Nian at present.

The boss was tired and annoyed, with a pounding headache that seemingly made him a lot more pliant and susceptible to the inane requests of others. He was feeling vulnerable and his best friend had heartlessly used it to his advantage – what an absolutely loathsome cad! Gun was beyond irritated with himself for allowing Xiao Mi to drag him to this den of degradation in the first place with only token resistance. Since when did he, the illustrious Gun God, allow himself to be towed about like a heedless little puppy dog? Since when did he, the crowned demon of K and K, allow anyone to rattle his carefully trained confidence, especially candy pink little girls with frighteningly iron willed mothers?