《No Saints in the City》 Part 2

A Strange Name, A Strange City

A new city.The name, the air, the people flowing past—all unfamiliar.

Vincent was no longer "Vincent Kang."He'd been given a new identity, a new life he had to live.

But he knew one thing:

"A quiet life" was a lie.

He rented a small apartment.Cleaner, quieter than Harrison City—but to him, just another gray, colorless place.

Shops, cafés, unfamiliar faces on the streets.

He tried to stay quiet.But his instincts wouldn't let him.

"Someone's watching me."

At first, he thought he was being paranoid.But days passed—and he was sure.

A man who locked eyes with him one too many times at a diner.

Eyes lingering too long as he walked.

A stranger tailing him down the same grocery aisles over and over.

Surveillance.

The radio played in the background one quiet night.

"Global economic crisis—government intervention inevitable.""New power rises after Harrison City crime collapse.""Anonymous whistleblower hints at secret government operations…"

Vincent flipped through channels.

He'd seen too much already. He didn't want to know more.

And then, he did something he hadn't done since the end.

He tried contacting Feynman.

[Connecting…][No signal]

"…"

Feynman was gone.

And Vincent knew—That wasn't a coincidence.

"You too, huh…?"

He smirked bitterly and lit a cigarette.

Nothing was over.

He began tracking the trackers.

For days, he visited the same café. Took the same walking routes.Deliberately offering predictable patterns.

And then—

"Gotcha."

An alley.A quiet detour.

One of them followed.

Vincent lit a cigarette like it was nothing.

"How long have you been tailing me?"

The stranger flinched.

"…I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't bullshit me. I want to know—are you alone, or is this a coordinated op?"

He stared the man down.And then he moved.

[Combat Engaged]

Vincent twisted the man's arm, slamming him into the wall.

The man tried to fight back—but Vincent's hand was already around his throat.

As the man opened his mouth to scream, Vincent covered it, choking the breath out.

"Who sent you?"

"…"

"Don't talk? Fine. We'll do it my way."

[Snap – bone cracks]

"AARGH…! Shit—you really are Vincent Kang…!"

"My name doesn't matter. Who sent you?"

Scene Four – The Shadow Approaches

Eventually, the man cracked.

"…You've got a lot of people looking for you. Organizations. Government. And…"

"And?"

"Someone else who knows you."

"Name."

The man gritted his teeth.

"Dominic Scott."

Vincent's eyes narrowed.

He knew that name.

"A hidden hand in the political world.""A man who manipulates governments, corporations, and media from the shadows."

Vincent closed his eyes slowly.

"So this… is where the real war begins."

*****

Disguised Truth"

Vincent moved quietly through the city, gathering information.

Dominic Scott.

Ever since that name came up, Vincent had been tracking his every move.

With Feynman gone, he had no choice but to piece together the puzzle himself.

On the surface, Scott was a successful businessman and a prominent political donor.

But the people he supported all shared a common trait—

They operated from the shadows, wielding power and money like silent weapons.

And his infamous "private parties"—

They weren't the kind ordinary people could just walk into.

So, Vincent needed a way in.

For hours, he moved between hotels, clubs, and upscale restaurants in the city,

gathering intel on the event—

Guest lists, security layouts, staff rosters.

But there was no way his name would appear on the list.

"In that case, I'll move from the inside."

Realizing he couldn't be invited, Vincent decided to infiltrate as staff.

He reviewed the employee list of the hotel hosting the party,

and the day before the event, he ensured one worker had a sudden "accident."

He took the man's uniform and ID,

then entered the venue as if nothing had happened.

At the entrance, his credentials passed inspection.

He walked into the grand ballroom unnoticed.

Men in designer suits held champagne glasses, chatting in low voices.

Women in elegant dresses laughed softly under the glow of a massive chandelier.

And at the center—Dominic Scott, mingling with VIPs.

Vincent moved like a waiter, blending in as he observed the scene.

That's when he noticed her.

A woman in a stunning black dress.

Long hair flowing naturally, each movement exuding grace and poise.

She moved like royalty.

But Vincent noticed immediately:

"She doesn't belong here."

Though she engaged in small talk effortlessly,

her eyes were scanning—always scanning.

She moved through the crowd with calculated precision,

as if searching for something—or someone.

Even when greeting Scott, she kept a subtle distance.

Vincent continued watching her from behind the mask of a waiter.

But then—

She vanished.

The moment he lost sight of her, Vincent's instincts screamed.

"That wasn't an accident."

He mentally mapped the ballroom's layout.

There were a few non-public rooms connected to the area.

She had likely slipped into one of them.

He set down his champagne tray and moved.

Silently, carefully, he followed down a side corridor.

Then he saw it—

A conference room door, slightly ajar.

Voices inside. Low. Intense.

Vincent peered through the narrow gap.

She was there.

Still carrying herself with grace and composure,

but her eyes—sharp, calculating.

She spoke with someone,

but it was clear: she was deceiving them.

And she didn't care if they knew.

Vincent slowly closed the door,

his expression darkening.

"This woman… she's no guest."

Before he could process more,

the door swung open.

"Well, well. Eavesdropping? Naughty habit."

She stood in front of him.

For the first time,

their eyes met.

****

 A Dangerous Game

Vincent quickly sized up the situation.This woman—she wasn't just another VIP guest.

She chatted with Dominic Scott casually but kept a careful distance.

Her posture was elegant, but her movements were sharp.

Most of all—she didn't flinch when she noticed Vincent.

Her eyes scanned him from head to toe.

"You don't belong at this party either, do you?"

Vincent spoke first.

She smiled.

"Do I look like I don't?"

"More than enough."

He noticed a subtle tremor in her fingers—so subtle, most would miss it.

She was wearing a mask.But behind it—clear tension.

Before he could react, she moved.

She took a step back, looking at him like she could see right through him.A faint smirk on her lips.

"Hey."

She whispered.

"If I scream, you'll be dragged out of here by security in seconds."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. Was she bluffing? Threatening?

Still, he remained calm.

"So?"

She tilted her head, amused.

"So instead of a fight…"

Two suited security guards appeared down the hall.

In an instant, her attitude shifted.

She closed the distance between them—fast.

Not just close—intimate.

She grabbed his tie and pulled him in.

Breath to breath.

"Sorry, but…"

She whispered in his ear.

"If you want to live, don't move."

And then—

"Seriously, when the waitstaff looks this good, how are we supposed to focus on the party?"

Her voice was playful. Charming.Vincent immediately understood: this was a tactical performance.

She wasn't just escaping—she was controlling the moment.

She hooked her arm through his.

"Never seen a couple getting cozy before?"

One of the guards cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Ahem… This isn't an area for guests. Please move along."

She grinned.

"Sure thing. We'll find somewhere quieter."

She led Vincent away, effortlessly blending into the scene.

In a small conference room, she finally dropped the act.

Vincent muttered—

"Impressive acting."

She smirked.

"You should thank me for saving your ass."

"Doubt it."

She brushed her hair back nonchalantly.

"Either way, it was fun. But let's not pretend—you were following me too."

Vincent folded his arms, watching her.

"Why come to a party like this?"

She met his eyes, smiling.

"Why did you?"

No answer.

The air between them tightened with tension.

She tilted her head.

"How about this: I ask one question, you get to ask one."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Intriguing."

She grinned.

"Great. Here's my first question."

"Did you come here to kill Dominic Scott?"

****

A Dangerous Deal"

"Then why are you looking for Dominic Scott?"

Vincent's voice remained calm, but his gaze was razor sharp.

She gave a playful smile and sat on the couch, as if she owned the place.

"Oh, that's simple."

She twirled a strand of her hair and shrugged lightly.

"To steal his money."

Vincent raised an eyebrow.

"Money?"

"Yeah. But it's not just petty theft. This isn't a hit-and-run job. It requires a plan."

She pulled out a small laptop and opened a few files to show Vincent.

On the screen:

Dominic Scott's overseas secret bank accounts

Political lobbying records & illegal fund flows

Money laundering operations connected to specific corporations

Vincent studied the screen with interest.

"This isn't simple theft."

She grinned."Exactly. I'm a righteous thief."

Vincent kept his eyes on her.

"What are you planning to do with the money?"

She crossed her arms and casually crossed her legs.

"Give it back to society."

"Society?"

"Yeah. The money he exploited—I'm putting it back where it belongs. Like sending funds to workers he laid off unfairly, or to victims of corporate abuse."

Vincent stared at her for a moment.

"You sound like a philanthropist."

She smirked."Well, I do take my cut."

"How much?"

She snapped her fingers."Ten to twenty percent. That's not greedy, right?"

Vincent let out a bitter laugh."So, not exactly noble. Just... a thief with a conscience."

She nodded as if owning it."Hey, I never claimed to be a saint."

"Is someone backing you?"

"No one. I'm doing this because I want to."

Vincent narrowed his eyes slightly.Plans like this usually had someone behind them.But she really seemed to own the mission.

"What about you?"She turned the question back.

"Why are you looking for Dominic Scott?"

Vincent paused before answering."I need information."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Information? So you're not here to kill him, huh."

Vincent didn't answer.

She raised an eyebrow with a smirk."Then let's do this—help each other get what we want."

"How?"

"I get his money, you get the info. Simple."

Vincent considered it.

Not a bad deal.He could get what he needed without directly confronting Dominic.And this woman seemed... capable.

But the real problem—

"How do I know I can trust you?"

She gave him a sly smile.

"I don't know if I can trust you either."

She held out her hand.

"Name's Angelina. Just call me Angie."

Vincent looked at her hand for a moment before taking it.

"Vincent Kang."

"Alright, Vincent. Then let's prep for one hell of a job."

Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

But Vincent knew—

This wasn't a partnership.

It was a transaction.

And soon, this deal would turn into a very dangerous fight.