Tangerine crashed onto a random seat on the bullet train, clutching a briefcase in his arms. Sweat had disheveled his hair and blood was splattered over his face like some kindergartner’s art project.

He was in a daze. All this for a goddamn briefcase. It was only after a moment of silence that he recognized he was sitting next to someone. And not just anyone. Someone who he knew was just as dangerous as him in his field. And someone he found dreadfully annoying.

“You.”