The next day at noon, Yaha came to Wei Tianyang's room. Yesterday's minor conflict hadn't created any rift between them, and now, their small organization was facing real trouble. In front of that trouble, the fury bursting from Wei Tianyang's crimson eyes instead gave him a sense of security.
"Accompany me on a long trip today," Yaha stood at the door, his tone a mix of negotiation and pleading.
Wei Tianyang was sitting cross-legged on the bed, his hands grasping at something in the air, his eyes fixed on the blank bedsheets in front of him, seemingly lost in some unknown activity.
But Yaha had grown accustomed to such sleepwalking-like behavior; Wei Tianyang's symptoms from Black Medicine were different from the others and more severe.
"Me? Why not ask Starbucks?"
Wei Tianyang dropped the AK47 components he was holding and looked up at Yaha.