Chapter Twenty Seven: My Hero

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Vivi's POV
There's so much tension in this warehouse; the kind that can be sliced by a knife. I stayed still, the plank of wood in hand.

"...we had a deal. Are you sure you want to do this? My family has supplied your needs for years. This isn't right."

"It's not personal."

If I had a penny for everytime someone has said that when hurting someone else...

"If you say so." The man with a calming voice seems to have given in. At least I thought so till I heard two gun shots. What followed was commotion and the sound of two men fighting.

I raked to see the man who came in first pinned down trying to keep the one on top from stabbing him. I suffered a mental battle of whether to interevene or to stay quiet and wait. I couldn't sit quietly. I came out of my hiding place with wooden plank. I immediately hit the man trying to stab the one on the floor. My efforts made little impact as he only aimed his gin at me. When it went off, I froze only to watch him fall. The man who was on the floor stood up. He immediately pointed his gun at me. I raised my hands ready for surrender. The plank of wood won't save me.

"Who..." He looked me over. "I'm unsightly. If I knew that I'll be standing in front of this handsome Asian man I would have fixed myself up. A white hospital gown and red messy hair equates to crazy. I hope he's not thinking it. "...are you? What are you doing in here?"

I stumbled across this place after escaping the asylum. It's a warehouse with wooden boxes. Maybe it's even a stash house for whatever this guy is selling. "I'm just hiding."

"From who?" He kept his gun as steady as my hands are raised.

"Someone evil. I saved your life."

"I saved your life." He countered and glanced at the man on the floor. There are two more.

"Did you shoot them?" I asked.

"They were going to shoot me. I acted first. I don't owe you an explanation. I don't trust you."

"I don't trust you either. I'm going to lower my hands. Shoot me if you like I don't care." I lowered my hands.

He didn't do anything but retract his gun. He tucked it away.

"Seriously, why do you look like you escaped from an asylum?"

Finally, a stranger in Marseille not working for Armor Deveraux. Can I trust him?

"Because I did. I'm not crazy."

"Don't lie to yourself. We are all crazy. It's just the levels that differ. What happened to your thighs?"

I glanced down at the poorly bandaged thighs. I grabbed some cloth I found here and wrapped them to stop the bleeding. I have no idea if I did it right. I was too busy panicking over whether I was followed to care. "It happened when I was escaping from the asylum. I crawled under a fence."

"Ouch." He made a face. He sounds like an American. There's no asian accent in his speech. Is he Chinese? Japanese? What is he? I'm curious. "Can I take a look? I'm a doctor. Look, it seems you've been through a lot. At least let me do this one thing for you."

I nodded.

He gestured outside and went ahead of me but I couldn't leave the warehouse when we reached the door. I froze on the spot. He turned back to look at me. He looked both ways. He beckoned me to come out. When I didn't he returned. He offered me his hand to take. I looked both ways making sure no one is in sight. He brought me to his car, a jeep. He opened the back side and patted the carpeted boot.

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