3 A Tea Party of Sorts

*=flashback

Westly pressed himself against the brick wall of the back alley, scanning his surroundings and deeming them clear for him to sneak back into the club. He was honestly surprised the club was not heavily guarded by mobsters armed to the brim with artillery. Especially if such a large business deal was being undertaken here. But then again, there was always the risk of attracting unwanted attention. The best place to hide is in plain sight.

*The club closed hours earlier to prepare for the 'private' meeting, only having the head bartender stay behind to provide drinks. Westly took that opportunity to return to his apartment to be rid of that ridiculous outfit of his and equip himself with his police badge and gun. The events of the night before still bothered him like an annoying buzz filtering through his mind. What occult magic did that mystery person possess to have Jian show real human emotions? Westly was even more peeved when he realized that he had left the purple drugs in the hands of Jian. He was just so shocked at the time that the detective side of him seemed to have leaped out the veranda and died in the bushes somewhere. The more Westly thought about it, the more pissed he became. He was so lost in his self-annoyance, he hadn't noticed a certain tuft of bubblegum enter his apartment. He really needed to change the passkey.

"And where are you going? I thought your undercover was done for the night." Katsu raised a brow, a plastic bag of takeout food from their favorite Chinese restaurant hanging from his wrist.

"Uhhhh, I'm heading...out?" Westly's brain chose the wrong time to short circuit.

"Clearly," Katsu rolled his eyes. "Are you planning to do something stupid?" Katsu eyed the other, noticing that Westly had his police-issued pistol attached to his hip.

"Why do you assume I'm going to something stupid?" Westly frowned.

"Because you're reckless, which leads you to leap before you think, which ends up with you doing stupid things." Katsu placed the take out bags on the counter space of Westly's kitchen.

"For your information, Mr. Smarty Pants, I'm just going out for a walk," Westly scoffed, gingerly walking past Katsu in hopes that the other didn't further press the issue. "Make sure you clean up after yourself this time. The last time you ate here without me, I thought I was robbed." Katsu stuck his middle finger out at the other's teasing.

"Yah, Westly," Katsu quickly placed his hand on Westly's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze. "If you lie to me and I have to come save your ass, I'm going to castrate you." Katsu's angelic, peerless smile made the color drain from Westly's face.*

Westly let out a small breathe. Yeah, he prayed deeply that Katsu was the last person to find out. For the sake of his junior. Westly punched the code into the reader for the employee entrance. He cautiously opened the door just a crack so that he could peer in and confirm if there was anyone still remaining in the faculty room. Once he deemed that he was in the clear, Westly scuttled into the room and closed the door behind him. He could hear the distant sound of glass clinking against each other as the familiar scent of lung cancer filled the air. Westly pressed himself against the wall near the door leading to the main area of the club. He carefully turned the doorknob, leaving the door slightly ajar with his foot. He took in as much of his surroundings as he possibly could through the crack of the door.

The Eastside Cartel. The Cavoli's. The Ssangdos. The leaders of some of the biggest international gangs were seated on the leather couches encircling the main stage of the dance floor. And of course, the circle of illegality wouldn't be complete without the leader of Ouroboros. Jian casually reclining with a glass of cognac neat. His olive green plaid suit fitted him well, the fabric accentuated his frame whenever the man brought the drink up to his lips. His hair was always neat in a swept-back quiff. Westly internally cursed at the mob boss for looking so good. Why couldn't he look like a stereotypical mob boss? Sleazy. That way it was easier for Westly not to get dis-his thoughts were diverging. It was odd to see such prominent mob bosses without their respective bodyguards, but perhaps the Yamdachi's had made it part of their deal that no guards were allowed during their little gathering. The less wandering eyes the better.

From the corner of his eye, Westly could see the staircase that led to the second floor of the club where the head of the Yamadachi group placed his main office. Westly didn't know exactly what he was expecting to find up there, but from the brief moments that he passed by that door, he had overheard some interesting phone conversations. Particularly those involving some sort of shipment coming from the docks? Westly just needed the slightest crumb to get the spark going and arrest the sleaze bag that groped his ass. Not that he was bitter. Or holding a grudge. It was his duty as a defender of the law, of course.

Westly began calculating in his mind what the quickest, most inconspicuous method to get up the staircase, choosing to crouch low and speed behind the closest couch as soon as possible. He let out an exhausted breath as his back was against the backside of one of the vacant leather couches. He peered over the side of the couch. The bartender was preoccupied with making the drinks for the mobsters, while the mob bosses remained attentive to their surroundings. Westly tsked under his breath. At his current location, he could make it to the stairs if he was quick enough, but the risk of getting caught by one of the mob bosses was nearly 100%. Westly chewed his bottom lip, contemplating on a simple plan to distract the patrons in the club. He dug through his pocket to find some loose change. Not enough to buy half a gumball at a vending machine, but enough to do the job. Westly gingerly shifted himself to the other end of the couch, closer to the bartender, and honed in on his target. He chose a medium size coin and waited for the right moment to strike. As soon as the bartender turned his attention away from the prepared drinks, Westly lunged the coin at them, sending the delicate glassware down like dominos. Instinctively, the mob bosses turned their heads towards the direction of the noise, allowing Westly to scurry up the stairs mostly undetected.

--------

Jian turned towards the direction of the broken glass, hearing the bartender let out a mumble of curses when he saw that his hard work had become puddles on the floor. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of a dark taupe green waxed cotton jacket head towards the staircase. The messy tuft of chocolate brown hair all too familiar. Jian wasn't even surprised anymore that the disobedient pup was at the club. It would be more concerning if he didn't show up. Jian chose to disregard the fact that the officer was on the premises and that Westly would use this as an opportunity to arrest him. The young boss wasn't ignorant of the law and his rights. Until drugs are physically exchanged for a sum of money and are in his hands, everything was mere talk.

"Well isn't that one way to start the night?" The leader of the Cavoli's chuckled, turning his attention back to his glass of red wine. The elder's dark brown locks with a mixture of gray was slicked back, his valuable burgundy Italian suit making him an epitome of class.

"If that damn Ginzo doesn't get his ass here fast enough, then his legs are going to end up like those drinks." The leader of the East Cartel grumbled, impatient at the delay. The leader, a bit younger than that of the Cavoli's, but the scars on his face and hands indicated that he was well experienced in the underworld. His own suit, loose fitted and more casual than that of the Cavoli's.

"Hmph, it's not like you have anything else better to do." The leader of the Ssangdo's scoffed, sipping at his glass of scotch. The leader's age a bit obscure due to the genetic makeup of Asian descent. A blessing and a curse. His attire more simple and neat in comparison to the others, choosing to don a standard black suit and tie.

"I'm just not too happy with the fact that we're stuck with a possible mothafucking snitch." The leader of the East Cartel tilted his head towards Jian's direction. An obvious scowl on the East Cartel's leader's face. Jian simply let out a snort, unbothered and un-entertained by the mob boss's provocation.

"Watch your tongue, El Parca, the boy is still the prince of Ouroboros." The leader of the Cavoli's snickered, enjoying the possible chaos that may unfold when a mad dog encounters a panther.

"Pfft, prince of bitches. Ouroboros hasn't had any bite since Old Man Wang hit the grave," El Parca took a sloppy shot of his drink, the alcohol dripping slightly down the side of his bearded chin. "Are you sure you're goodie two shoes brother would want you to be here, gatito?" A condescending smirk spread on the mob boss's face.

"It is probably in your best interest to listen to Boss Cavoli," Jian's eyes pierced straight into El Parca. If stares could be daggers, then the mob boss would have already been impaled by Jian's intense gaze. His eyes monitoring the other as if waiting for just the right moment to dig in his fangs and rip out the other's jugular. "You know what they say about mad dogs," Jian took a slow sip of his drink, eyes never leaving that of the other. "They get put down." Boss Hoseok and the leader of the Cavoli's let out a snort, amused by the young boss's smart quip.

"You got guts to threaten me, boy," El Parca began to stomp over towards the still seated Jian. The hot-headed mob boss grabbing the younger by the collar and pulling him up so that the two were face to face. Though one burned with rage, the other looked uninterestedly cool. "You really wanna see how a mad dog can act, jackass!?."

"Gentlemen! No need for violence. Tonight is a night of business, not a slugfest." Ginzo finally arrived into the lobby, an obviously amicable smile on his face. Who wouldn't be amicable knowing that at the end of the day he would be earning a few million or more?

El Parca let out a grunt, dropping Jian's collar before returning to his seat. Jian let out a small huff of air before fixing and adjusting his suit till he deemed it perfect. Ginzo dragged a lone chair to the center of the dance floor, turning it so that it was backwards before taking a seat. He rested arms on the back of the chair, a lone cigarette hanging from his mouth. A businessman's grin on his face.

"So gentlemen, the deal is simple. Make me an offer," A long trickle of smoke rose before dissipating into the fluorescent tinted air. "Then make a better one."

"Goods first, Ginzo. You know the rules." The leader of the Ssangdos let out a grunt, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch.

"Of course, Boss Hoseok, but you have to understand. For such rare goods, compromises must be made," Ginzo dug through his back pocket before tossing a ziplock bag with familiar pills across the dance floor. The bag coming to a stop between the mob bosses. "400 kilos of this, coming in tonight. I suggest 20 million in addition to a 20% partnership fee.."

"20 million with 20% partnership fee? You must be going bat-shit crazy, Ginzo." El Parca growled.

"If this was simply cocaine or meth, you wouldn't even need me in the first place. But this?" Ginzo nodded towards the purple tablets on the floor. Those two pills were already worth $300. "A drug that basically shuts down the body and leaves you in a euphoric high. That the police haven't fully investigated into yet, and not to mention that I am currently the only person who can get you these goods. Well, I say little Marion there is worth the pretty penny, isn't it? You can probably sell it on the streets and make back triple of what you're paying even with the partnership fee," Ginzo chuckled. "Did I forget to mention that it's basically untraceable in a tox screen?" An arrogant smirk stretched out on Ginzo's wrinkled lips.

Untraceable. The thought flashed through Jian's mind. His mind fell into deep thought as to why and how Zemin would get a hold of this type of drug. For what purpose? It sounded like a club drug to him and Zemin had ensured that Ouroboros's clubs had turned clean and that the illegal prostitution rings had been closed. But then again, Zhemin had been acting strange the last few weeks leading up to the incident. His usually playful and confident older brother had become distracted and distant. Zemin's minds always seemed to be wandering elsewhere whenever they spoke, small changes in expressions that indicated that he was keeping something from Jian. Jian didn't expect Zemin to tell him everything, even if it was Ouroboros business, but he would have thought that Zemin would have at least divulged such information to Huan, his right-hand man. The two have been close since they were in diapers. But nope, both Jian nor Huan had a clue as to what Zhemin was doing behind closed doors.

The pit of Jian's stomach grew heavy, thinking about the possible why's to his burning questions. His hands unconsciously toying with the gold Rolex he adorned. He knew that some members of the group had become bitter towards Zemin's radical changes, and financially Ouroboros did take a hit initially. Perhaps someone had threatened Zemin? The thought was a bit laughable since no one could threaten Zemin. But they could have threatened Huan, Emmy, or even Jian. Zemin had no regard for his well being, but when it came to family, well, the man would willingly pull any trigger. Another possibility that Jian refused to accept was that Zemin had truly turned on his word. That his dreams and aspirations were mere talks and that he never intended to leave the underworld in the first place. His older brother had just found a way to make fast revenue for himself. The mere assumption left a bitter rancid taste in Jian's mouth.

*I want to know the truth about what happened as much as you-*

The all too familiar voice of a certain puppy rang through his mind. It was almost laughable how the officer was able to read Jian so easily. Jian who had trained himself to remain jaded and detached, who had as much emotional expression as a brick of cement. Somehow a yapping pup who has no self-regard and barely any common sense managed to read him like a coloring book. It was exhausting and aggravating that such a presence existed, yet at the same time, it brought Jian a sense of relief. It was probably that relief that prevented the mob boss from getting rid of that pup all together.

"20 million with 20% then." Mr. Cavoli casually stated before taking a sip of his red wine.

"25 million with 15% ." Boss Hoseok chimed in.

"35 million 13%." El Parca huffed. Bitter at the price tag, but understanding the value of the drugs.

"55 million, 12%." Jian stated calmly, placing his drink on the counter. The other mob bosses looking at Jian a bit shocked at the younger's sudden high ball deal.

"60 million, 10%." El Parca shot the younger a pointed glare.

"70 million, 9%." Jian did not even look at El Parca, just glancing down at the watch on his wrist.

Boss Cavoli let out an impressed whistle, already choosing to back out of the deal in the beginning. The Cavoli's weren't that big into the drug business anyways, he was simply curious at the opportunity and wanted to gain some information on the new poison. Boss Hoseok let out a grunt, seeing as the price tag was getting a bit steep at the moment. Like Boss Cavoli, he was more curious about the drug itself than actually purchasing any. He had caught a few dealers trying to sell the substance in his clubs or even slip some to his employees. If what Ginzo said was true, then in the near future the Ssangdo's may cooperate with the Yamadachis. In this moment, however, the two were more interested in the bidding war that was occurring before them.

"Ball's in your court. El Parca." Ginzo courteously smiled, seeing as how the Cartel was simply fuming in his seat. Deep and heavy breathes as he weighed the financial pros and cons of this deal. The East Cartel was known for the drug trade and their connections to international markets, and it was without a doubt that he could easily sell Marion at a good price. The only issue was that 400 kilos for over 70 million plus whatever stupid-ass percentage that would appease Ginzo. El Parca, though rash, wasn't an idiot. He needed a market before he could bring in supply and like Ginzo mentioned, the drug was still obscure.

Jian raised a brow at the Cartel boss that was deep in thought as if egging him to continue with the bid. Jian wasn't concerned about the money. That was easy enough to obtain with his revenue from playing the stock market, not even accounting for Ouroboros's already vast fortune. Jian simply wanted this farce to end so he could get to the root of his actual business. El Parca let out a roar, rising from his seat and knocking over the table in front of him including its contents. Jian supposed that he got his answer. Boss Hoseok let out a grunt, getting up from his seat and brushing off any dust from his suit. Boss Cavoli fixing following suit, letting out an amused scoff as El Parca stomped out of the club. Jian could see from the corner of his eyes some guards that Ginzo must have stored away come down the stairs, only to quietly retreat once they saw that there was no actual harm.

"Congratulations, Boss Wang," Boss Cavoli extended his hand towards Jian. "I don't know whether to call your actions reckless or ingenious. I guess we'll just have to see what you plan to do with all that product."

"You can call it a bit of both." Jian smirked, shaking the elder man's hand.

"Just don't be a fool and sell it my territory without my permission, got it?" Boss Hoseok huffed, putting his hands in his pocket and heading towards the exit of the club. Boss Cavoli giving a nod of goodbye before leaving the club as well.

"Now that the peanut gallery is gone," Ginzo approached Jian, placing an arm around the younger's shoulder, though the yakuza boss had to go on his toes to reach the proper height to do so. Jian shrugged his shoulders, removing the elder's touch from him."A toast for our partnership," Ginzo passed the younger a flute of champagne that the bartender brought over. "If I were to be honest with you, young boss, I didn't think you were completely serious."

"When will I be getting my shipment, Ginzo?" Jian casually drinking the entire flute in one sip, his eyes never leaving Ginzo.

"Young people. Always so serious," Ginzo sighed, taking a sip of his own champagne. "The shipment should arrive at the docks right now so tomo-" Ginzo suddenly paused when the phone in his back pocket began to vibrate violently. Ginzo let out a grunt of annoyance, checking the caller ID before sneering. Something along the lines of 'what are they calling about? It's just a simple pickup' escaping under his breath. "Sorry, young boss, business." Ginzo flashed the younger a grin before answering the phone and walking towards the back room of the club.

Jian placed the empty flute on a nearby table, glancing at Ginzo before taking a look at the stairs that led to the VIP rooms.

-----------

20 minutes prior

Westly released a sigh of relief when he made it to the second floor of the club, crouching low to reduce the chances of being detected. He wasn't expecting that anyone would be on this floor in the first place, but he could hear the faint sounds of chatter coming from the far end of the hall. If he remembered correctly, there was some sort of break room for the bodyguards just a few doors down from the Yamadachi boss's office. It would explain why there weren't many guards downstairs. They were all up here, probably without the other mob boss' knowledge, just in case things got 'complicated.'

Westly quietly crept through the hall, keeping his back pressed against the wall closest to the break room so if any of the guards turned the corner, he had a moment to incapacitate them. He peeked around the corner, the sound of chatting and laughter echoing louder. The guards seemed to be having their own party in the break room. One less problem for Westly to worry about. He approached the door of the Yamadachi boss gingerly and turning the door as quietly as possible. He grumbled under his breath when he realized it was locked. Westly dug through his jacket to pull out his handy dandy lock pick set that the precinct may or may not know he owned. He had to get into the Ouroboros compound somehow right? Just kidding. Slightly. Westly picked out the tools he needed and began expertly tinkering with the lock on the door, only to let out a proud grin when he heard a lucky click.

He opened the door slightly, quickly slipping in, and closing the door behind him. Westly couldn't hold back the exasperated sigh that escaped his lips. He thought Cap's office was full of paperwork. The mob boss's desk was covered in scattered files and what looked to be a laptop that was buried under paperwork. His filing drawers were a mix match of half-closed and half-opened. Random papers covered the floor like a carpet and the room itself reeked of cigarettes and expensive booze. Westly didn't even know where to start. The officer began digging through the papers on the floor before scanning through the filing cabinets then the laptop. Yamadachi group's financial statements for all their 'legitimate' businesses. Bank transaction histories. Client list for the 'special' home visits he assumed some of his coworkers entertained. Westly took a quick photo of that list just in case.

He began to grow frustrated at not finding any relevant information on what he was there for. The drugs. Westly rummaged through his desk, annoyingly slamming one of the drawers shut when those came empty as well. He jumped when heard a loud thump that followed after the drawer was closed. Westly raised a brow at the bottom left drawer of the wooden desk. He gently opened it once more to see a USB on top the clutter of files. He grabbed the device and plugged into the laptop, opening the files to delve into its contents. A stream of information began to appear on the screen, information on the Yamadachi's more illegal works, but what caught Westly's eye was the folder named 'Marion.'

Westly clicked on the folder, seeing that there was only one file. He could only assume that to cover their tracks, the Yamadachi group deleted files as they went.

Southline Shipping Route: Acker's Baby Formula

400 kilograms

EC dealers mur 11/15/xx

Dedend row bur 12/22/xx

UI rap 1/24/xx

...

Westly's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. He understood that the drugs were being shipped under the ruse that they were baby formula and that there would be 400 kilograms worth. Enough to dope up a small town. But the rest? Westly couldn't make any sense of it. Random jumbled letters with dates? This was like playing Scrabble with a drunk person. Westly mumbled to himself, trying to see if he could possibly decipher the long list of strange code. His heart took a small leap and his concentration broken when he heard a sudden knock of something from downstairs. A scramble of feet leaving the guards' break room shortly after. Westly took that as his queue to get out of this club as soon as possible. He quickly took photos of the needed documents, his scrolling speed increasing when he heard the footsteps of the guards return from whatever journey they went on. After he was satisfied with the legibility, Westly quickly removed the USB from the computer and stowed it away in his coat pocket. Westly pressed his ear against the door, confirming if there were any more wanderers in the hallway. When his listening was only returned with silence, Westly delicately opened the door and slipped out, closing the door with as little sound as possible. With haste, Westly opened his phone and attached the photos he took to an email to send a copy to himself and Katsu when-

Westly suddenly collided with a firm, strong figure, instinctively stashing his phone in his coat and pulling out his police pistol to aim at the possible gangster. His alert eyes were met with amused cognac ones in addition to a cocky smirk. Westly's shoulders seemed to immediately relaxed and a disapproving pout formed on his lips. Jian simply stood and watched him, hands in his pocket, posture relaxed as he was staring down the barrel of a gun. The actual sight of a gun being pointed at him by Westly highly entertained him.

"You almost made me throw up my lung." Westly hissed, lowering his firearm so it was angled towards the ground.

"Did you have fun snooping?" Jian raised a brow at the other. Despite the utter amusement, Westly's undercover costume brought him, Jian preferred seeing the pup in his natural form. Chocolates locks disheveled and his lean body covered up with a pair of unflattering jeans, some form of a turtleneck sweater in addition to a bulky waxed cotton jacket. He looked like the Michelin Man with a pair of chopstick legs.

"Did you have fun buying illegal drugs?" Westly retorted, an arrogant, prideful grin on his face. Jian scoffed, rolling his eyes at the officer's audacity.

"I don't know what you're talking about. We were having a simple gathering." Jian shrugged.

"A simple gathering with some of the biggest mob bosses in the district? Were you all having a tea party?" Westly sneered, always annoyed with how Jian would never answer his questions. The other would always divert the conversation to another issue or be a sardonic ass about it.

"I'll tell you about our little tea party," Jian leaned down and took a step closer, Westly flinching at the sudden closeness of the other. The officer becoming suddenly aware of Jian's warm, earthy cologne. It smelled like a mixture of a warm campfire and spiced cider. Jian's distinctive features now in HD. From his thick neatly trimmed brows, to the high bridge of his nose, small scar on the outside corner of his right eye. "If you tell me what you found..." Westly could feel the temperature rise in his cheeks as Jian's voice lowered to a soft whisper. "In this." Jian smirked when he presented the USB in front of Westly's face.

"Hey!" Westly reached out to snatch the USB back, only for Jian to mercilessly pull it away from the officer's reach. "Ji," Westly reached out again. "An," And again. "Wang," And again. "Give," Ah, so close this time. "Me Back," One more try. "That USB!" Westly growled, a mixture of annoyance and agitation emanating from the barking puppy. Jian couldn't help but crack a semblance of a smile as he played keep-away with Westly until-

"Did you just bite me!?" Jian's mouth went slightly agape. He was too stunned to even notice the other successfully snatch the USB from him. As usual the other had a way of surprising Jian. Just not always in the best way. Maybe Yuelong was right that he said that in Westly's past life he must have been some sort of dog.

"Sore losers can't complain." Westly stuck his tongue, waving the USB drive in his hand. Jian scoffed at the absurdity and was about to snatch the USB again.

"Damn, is Boss's meeting done yet? I just want to go fuckin ho-" One of the Yamadachi's men let out a big yawn as he turned the corner. Westly's and Jian's attention immediately turned to the arriving danger. "What the fuck are you guys doing up here!?" The henchman shouted in confusion at the sight of a notorious mob boss and one of the club employees up on the second floor. In a moment of instinct, Westly pulled up his gun and pointing it at the henchman before the other could grab his own weapon. In just a few short moments, a flood of henchmen arrived in the already overcrowded hallways, guns in their hand.

"Drop your guns and put your hands above your head," Westly commanded, his eyes trained onto the henchmen to make sure there would be no funny business. The henchmen looked at each other, their expression stiff as they were reluctant to give into Westly's demands. Their minds thinking that it was one man against the rest of them, but if they started firing they ran the risk of hitting the leader of Ouroboros. "I said, guns down and hands above your head!" The henchman slowly lowered to drop their weapons, their eyes never leaving Westly's, before they put their hands above their heads.

"Wow, you really are a cop." Jian snorted in amusement seeing Westly doing police work and not the kind the officer claimed to be doing when he was basically breaking into the Ouroboros estate.

"Now is not the right time for your sarcasm," Westly hissed, side-eyeing before returning his attention back to the henchman. "How in the hell am I gonna get outta here..." Westly grumbled under his breath. There was no way he could call back up since he was technically doing an unauthorized mission. Plus if Katsu found out, lil Westly would be in danger. He could try to bum rush downstairs and out of the club assuming he didn't run into the Yamadachi's boss himself. Plus the jerk Jian still had the USB drive. "I blame this on you." Westly huffed at Jian, peeved at the predicament he was in.

"I believe I specifically warned you to stay out of this," Jian sighed. "You just have a tendency of being disobedient."

"You were a roadblock to my escape hence you're fault," Westly argued back.

"Well too bad, none of you are getting out of here." Westly jumped at the sudden growl that appeared from behind them. He quickly turned around to see the Yamadachi's boss behind them with a gun pointed at Jian's head. The usually calm Yamadachi Boss now had a dark, fuming expression painted on his face.

"It's not polite to point guns at your clients, Ginzo." Jian replied nonchalantly, feeling the cool metal of the gun pressed on the back of his head.

"And it's not polite to double-cross me either, boy," Ginzo growled, violently nudging the gun against Jian's head. "Where are my drugs, young boss? Hmm?"

Jian furrowed his brow in confusion. What the hell was the Yamadachi boss going on about? "And how would I know where your shipment of drugs is?" Jian's former mischief cooled to a stone-cold tundra.

"Don't think I'm dumb, boy!" Ginzo snarled. "I should have known that you'd end up working with the cops," Ginzo glared at Westly, slowly recognizing him as one of the employees at the club. "Maybe the rumors were true, your brother was a lap dog for the police just like you are."Jian instinctively turned around, ignoring the gun that was still pointed at his head, and grabbed Ginzo by his shirt. Jian breathing heavy and deep and his teeth bared, gritted together.

"Jian!" Westly needed Jian to calm down. The last thing the officer needed was for Jian to give the Yamadachi boss an excuse to put a bullet through his head. Jian's grip tightened, eyeing Westly. The officer couldn't hold down the shiver that ran through his spine as animalistic eyes met his. The usual rationale and calm replaced with a predatory fire. The stare down felt like it lasted for hours before Jian reluctantly loosened his hold on Ginzo's shirt, the Yamadachi boss let out a snort to emphasize his point about Jian being the police's lap dog. "Put your gun down, Ginzo. You're under arrest for selling and distributing illegal drugs."

"I think you should be the one to put our gun down, officer," Ginzo smirked, tilting his head in the direction of his henchmen behind Westly. Westly quickly looked over to see that the henchmen had taken the opportunity to grab their own firearms. "Put your gun down, Officer, or I will put a bullet in young boss's brain here." Ginzo pulled back the safety of the gun. Jian scowled, maintaining a tall stance as he pressed his forehead against the barrel of the gun, daring the other to even try to take his life.

Westly bit his lower lip, hesitant to withdraw the only semblance of leverage that they had. But the last thing he wanted was for anyone to get hurt, let alone shot at. Westly lowered himself, placing his gun on the floor, rising again with his hands above his head. Ginzo broke into an arrogant smiling, nodding to his men to subdue Westly and Jian. Both men were pushed to their knees as they were thoroughly searched for any other weapons.

The sound of both their phones cracking against the heel of the henchman's shoes made Westly flinch. Jian remained silent, his piercing eyes honed on Ginzo. The head of the Yamadachi's frowned as he took the USB they retrieved from Westly's pocket. He squatted down in front of the two, arrogantly tapping the USB against Jian's forehead.

"I'm gonna find out where my drugs are, young boss," Ginzo lit a cigarette, inserting the cancer stick in his mouth. "Now whether it be with all your bones in tack or not will depend on you?"