It was late enough into the night that most of Jianyu's neighbors had tethered themselves to their homes, chained in place by sleep, by passion, by vice, by all manner of attachments both subtle and gross. The halls were lit atrociously, only by dint of loose, flickering ceiling lights set at the corners and midway through the corridors; a fifth remained fully lit, while the majority simply flickered, opting to work in shifts between days, hours, or holidays. This suited Jianyu just fine. He slipped out of his door, letting his eyes trace the lines of the halls while listening, focusing each cluster of sounds in turn before stepping out and locking the door behind him in one smooth, silent motion. In the darkness, in the quiet, he vanished, strolling unimpeded, unhurried through the hallway and toward the stairwell.
The stairs may or may not have claimed a few lives and a few limbs in their day. Most of the apartment complex's inhabitants took the rickety elevator, and what few comments the superintendent received about the treacherous steps became lost amid broken pipes and deadly wiring failures. Save for the red glare of the Exit signs, not a single light shone in the stairwell. Stepping onto a wobbly railing, Jianyu hopped as casually as one might step up a curb to the flight across the way, zig-zagging back and forth still with no greater speed than a stroll. In three minutes, he had reached the topmost floor, with a minor scramble where the steps had fallen out between the 7th and 8th floors. Gently, he pressed open the door and eased inside, the latch's click lost beneath the raucous music thundering through the entire floor.
Every few yards in the hallway, a chair had been posted, each one boasting a man in some form of over-characterized slouch and clutching chrome-plated automatic pistol too large for genuine functionality, but excellent for show. The first gentleman had a flat buzz-cut, carrot-orange offset by an impenetrable matrix of freckles across his skin. He nearly took notice once Jianyu stepped through the door. With lungs crackling from intermittent use, Jianyu drew in a slow breath, raising his hands, palm-down, to his collar-bones and stepping forward, his exhale thickening the air in the hallway. The redhead guard immediately settled back into his chair, his wrists on his knees and his eyes on the floor, eyelids heavy enough to close for seconds at a time before opening. Each guard in turn, as the Slowness and Drowsiness that Jianyu's movements cultivated rolled through the corridor, slouched further, sullen and somber with no mind to the ashen pale, bald man striding slowly toward the massive suite at the middle of the hall.
The music was loud enough to deafen any passers by, yet still somehow the din of half-intelligible shouting and brain-dead laughter managed to pitch over it, underscored by clinking bottled, chopping razors and loud snorts amidst the reverie. Just as the assembled number milled about, Jian stood just outside the doorway, waiting like a viper for a clear shot at a rabbit in the rushes.
The stairs may or may not have claimed a few lives and a few limbs in their day. Most of the apartment complex's inhabitants took the rickety elevator, and what few comments the superintendent received about the treacherous steps became lost amid broken pipes and deadly wiring failures. Save for the red glare of the Exit signs, not a single light shone in the stairwell. Stepping onto a wobbly railing, Jianyu hopped as casually as one might step up a curb to the flight across the way, zig-zagging back and forth still with no greater speed than a stroll. In three minutes, he had reached the topmost floor, with a minor scramble where the steps had fallen out between the 7th and 8th floors. Gently, he pressed open the door and eased inside, the latch's click lost beneath the raucous music thundering through the entire floor.
Every few yards in the hallway, a chair had been posted, each one boasting a man in some form of over-characterized slouch and clutching chrome-plated automatic pistol too large for genuine functionality, but excellent for show. The first gentleman had a flat buzz-cut, carrot-orange offset by an impenetrable matrix of freckles across his skin. He nearly took notice once Jianyu stepped through the door. With lungs crackling from intermittent use, Jianyu drew in a slow breath, raising his hands, palm-down, to his collar-bones and stepping forward, his exhale thickening the air in the hallway. The redhead guard immediately settled back into his chair, his wrists on his knees and his eyes on the floor, eyelids heavy enough to close for seconds at a time before opening. Each guard in turn, as the Slowness and Drowsiness that Jianyu's movements cultivated rolled through the corridor, slouched further, sullen and somber with no mind to the ashen pale, bald man striding slowly toward the massive suite at the middle of the hall.
The music was loud enough to deafen any passers by, yet still somehow the din of half-intelligible shouting and brain-dead laughter managed to pitch over it, underscored by clinking bottled, chopping razors and loud snorts amidst the reverie. Just as the assembled number milled about, Jian stood just outside the doorway, waiting like a viper for a clear shot at a rabbit in the rushes.