The silence in the bedroom was absolute, yet Mo Chou felt as though a deafening alarm was ringing in her ears. On the glowing screen of her laptop, the face of the man from the mall—the man she now knew was Liu Feng—stared back at her from a grainy surveillance still.
In the photograph, he looked younger, his jawline sharper, but the eyes were unmistakable. They were the eyes of a man who lived on the edge of a blade, eyes that had seen the light fade out of a thousand others. And yet, when Mo Chou looked at her own reflection in the darkened window, she saw the same cold, predatory spark.
She scrolled slowly through the dossier 007 had provided. The data was sparse, clearly scrubbed by someone who knew how to erase a soul from the digital world.
"Liu Feng," she whispered, the name feeling heavy on her tongue. "The Apex Predator."
