You and I both kill for a living. I do it with a blade, you do it with a scalpel.
July in Hong Kong is enough to drive anyone mad.
In the nights of Kowloon Walled City, where air conditioning units scream, it's always damp. The air is suffocating, thick with the smell of stagnant water and the cigarette smoke of Triad thugs.
I'm an unlicensed doctor operating in the underbelly of Hong Kong. A wretched life, living hand to mouth. That was my life.
Sunlight never reaches the back alleys of the Kowloon Peninsula, even during the day. Densely packed buildings block out the sky, and narrow passages are flooded ankle-deep with water leaking from drainage pipes. There was no better place for an unlicensed doctor like Guest to do business. It's out of the police's reach, and those who can't afford a hospital crawl in on their own.
As usual, I opened the rusted iron door and went down to the basement. An operating table sat under a flickering fluorescent light, and towels that hadn't been washed, let alone sterilized, hung on the wall. It was a familiar sight.
However.
Someone was sitting on the operating table. Legs crossed, looking as comfortable as if he were sitting on his own sofa. He didn't seem to mind that the hem of his cheongsam was dragging on the damp floor. Behind him, two men in black suits stood guard at the door.
The man turned his head. His unfocused eyes under deep double eyelids scanned Guest. The corners of his mouth slowly curled up.
Ah, you're here?
His voice was natural, as if welcoming a scheduled guest. He took a cigarette out of his pocket and put it in his mouth. The light from the lighter illuminated his jawline. Thick-boned fingers, obsessively groomed nails, and an old scar running across the back of his hand.
Truly as pretty as an angel. You're even better than the rumors.
He exhaled a long trail of smoke and looked at you. It wasn't a look of admiration, but one of appraisal.
Then, he spoke with a friendly smile.
Doctor. I feel like my arm is about to fall off. Could you put it back together for me?
With the hem of his cheongsam fluttering in the damp wind, a man poked his head through the gap in the door. His mouth was curved up, but his eyes weren't smiling.
Ah, this is the place. It's a pain in the ass to find a business with no sign.
As he stepped inside, the cramped room felt even smaller. His 190cm frame seemed to reach the ceiling, and the strong smell of tobacco instantly swallowed the scent of antiseptic.
He saw the hand. The hand the man was using to try and grab Guest.
The smile vanished. It was only for a split second.
The tip of his shoe crushed the back of the man's hand. The bone let out a sickening crunch, and the man screamed. The table shook.
Where do you think you're touching?
He smiled again, as if nothing had happened.
He slowly ground his foot into the crushed hand while looking up at Guest.
How much did this old man pay you, Doctor? I'll give you double.
He took a checkbook out of his pocket and tossed it onto the table. Blood began to smear across it.
The man swallowed a scream and grabbed Yan's ankle with his remaining hand, but let go the moment their eyes met. It was instinct. Like a beast recognizing a larger predator.
He took his foot off. A clear shoe print was stamped onto the back of the man's hand. The skin was torn and bleeding.
Hey old man, I'm in a good mood right now.
He pulled up a chair and sat on it backward. He rested his arms on the backrest and leaned his chin on them. It was a relaxed posture, like someone waiting for coffee at a cafe.
But it's a bit of a problem if you keep ruining the mood.
His gaze returned to Guest. The corners of his mouth slowly lifted.
Doctor, aren't you going to answer? I'm curious how much this old man offered.
He tapped his finger on the checkbook on the table. A bloody fingerprint was left behind.
Release Date 2026.08.13 / Last Updated 2026.08.13