Leon's expression darkened, "You serious right now?"

Lucien flinched.

"What?"

"The tickets." Leon held up the championship pass between two fingers. "Where are the rest of them?"

Lucien stared blankly at him for two whole seconds.

Then panic exploded across his face.

"There are no rest of them!"

Leon's jaw tightened.

"Okay. Try again."

"I am trying again!"

"You expect me to believe this is the only ticket?"

"Yes!"

Leon laughed once.

"Christ."

Lucien scrambled to his feet so fast he nearly tripped over Leon's jacket.

"I'm literally just a broke exchange student!" he burst out. "The ticket came from chips!"

Silence.

Leon blinked.

"…What?"

Five minutes later, Leon stood near one of the factory windows holding:

the championship ticket,

a scratched PLL prize card,

and a redemption slip stamped VALIDATED.

Rain tapped softly against broken glass.

Leon read the card again.

Then looked up slowly.

"You won this from chips."

Lucien hugged himself tighter.

"…Yeah."

"And yesterday," Leon said carefully, "you tried to sell me this exact ticket."

"Yes."

Another pause.

The entire situation rearranged itself inside Leon's head all at once.

No counterfeit operation.

No scammer.

No criminal mastermind.

Just one deeply unfortunate art student with terrible luck and the survival instincts of a baby deer.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Leon dragged a hand over his face.

Across from him, Lucien looked exhausted.

And scared.

Actually scared.

Not manipulative scared.

Not fake scared.

The kind of scared that sat in someone's bones after a long night.

Leon exhaled slowly.

"Then why didn't you say something?"

Lucien stared at him like that was the dumbest question he'd ever heard.

"You kidnapped me!"

The words echoed through the empty factory.

"You slammed me into a wall, tied me up, and drove me into the woods wearing a wolf mask!"

Okay.

Yeah.

When he said it out loud like that—

Leon closed his eyes briefly.

Fair.

"I thought you were gonna kill me!" Lucien kept going, voice cracking harder now.

"I thought I was gonna end up chopped into little pieces somewhere!"

"Jesus."

Leon pinched the bridge of his nose.

This somehow sounded significantly worse from Lucien's perspective.

Lucien's breathing started shaking again.

"I thought maybe you were some rich serial killer or—"

"Rich serial killer?"

"You drive an Aston Martin!"

"That's your profile for murderers?"

"You had a wolf mask on!"

Honestly?

Again—

fair.

Leon looked away for a second.

Then finally straightened.

"My name's Leon Bolton."

Lucien blinked.

Leon lifted the ticket slightly.

"The fight?" he said flatly. "That's mine."

Lucien froze.

The rain softened outside into distant static.

"…Oh my God."

Yep.

There it was.

Recognition.

Lucien looked at him again.

Actually looked this time.

The face from the posters.

The boxer Jamie wouldn't shut up about.

The guy from the hallway.

Oh my God.

He wasn't a serial killer.

He was famous.

Somehow that felt worse.

Leon crossed his arms loosely.

"I thought you were connected to the counterfeit sellers targeting my event." He paused. "That's on me."

Lucien stared.

"That's on you?"

Leon frowned slightly.

Something inside Lucien snapped.

"You kidnapped me!"

"Yeah, I got that part."

"No, I don't think you do!"

Lucien's eyes went bright suddenly.

Too bright.

Leon realized exactly what was about to happen one second too late.

"Oh no," he muttered.

Lucien started crying instantly.

Not graceful crying either.

Real crying.

Angry crying.

The kind where words kept tripping over each other between breaths.

"I thought I was dead!"

Tears spilled down his face faster now.

"I thought I was gonna die in some creepy murder factory because I wanted rent money!"

Leon stood there looking genuinely alarmed for perhaps the first time in years.

"I really am sorry," he said quickly.

"You should be!"

Lucien wiped at his face furiously.

It only made him look smaller.

And more upset.

"I don't even wanna be here!"

That one hit harder than Leon expected.

Lucien kept going before he could stop himself.

"(I don't wanna transmigrate anymore! I don't wanna be in America eating sad white people food while everybody talks at me like auctioneers!)"

Most of that came out in rapid-fire Chinese.

Leon understood maybe three words total.

Didn't matter.

The emotional devastation translated perfectly.

Lucien dropped into a crouch, arms wrapped around himself while he cried into his sleeves.

Leon stared at him helplessly.

This was terrible.

He could handle:

press conferences,

injuries,

lawsuits,

fights.

But crying little art students?

Absolutely not.

He stepped forward carefully.

"Hey."

Lucien smacked his hand away.

"Don't touch me!"

Leon raised both hands.

"Okay. Okay."

Lucien sniffed hard.

The lamb ears had started drooping.

Somehow that made this worse.

Leon sighed heavily.

"Yeah," he muttered. "I fucked that up."

Lucien glared upward with wet red eyes.

Unfortunately, the glare lost some intimidation because Leon was built like a professional refrigerator.

Lucien noticed too.

Annoying.

He climbed onto a nearby concrete block so he could glare from a more respectable height.

Now slightly taller, he folded his arms.

"Compensate."

Leon almost laughed.

Almost.

Instead he nodded seriously.

"Okay."

Lucien blinked.

That easy?

"You want money?" Leon asked.

"Yes."

"How much?"

Lucien hesitated.

Because okay.

What was the socially acceptable price for accidental kidnapping trauma?

Important question.

Leon watched him think.

Still barefoot.

Still wearing the lamb costume.

Still visibly offended.

Cute.

Dangerously cute.

Lucien finally held up the ticket again.

"This ticket," he declared firmly. "Ten thousand dollars."

Leon didn't even blink.

"Done."

Lucien froze.

Wait.

Seriously?

That easy?

—

The drive back felt completely different.

Last night Lucien had sat curled against the passenger door waiting for death.

Now he sat upright in the front seat like a tiny victorious CEO.

Arms folded.

Expression smug.

Completely justified, obviously.

Leon was the one who kidnapped him.

Lucien considered himself unbelievably forgiving under the circumstances.

Also—

ten thousand dollars.

TEN THOUSAND.

Lucien stared out the window trying not to smile too hard.

Failed repeatedly.

Beside him, Leon drove one-handed.

And kept catching himself looking over.

Interesting little thing.

Last night Lucien had looked seconds away from a nervous breakdown.

Now he sat humming softly under his breath because he'd successfully extorted a professional boxer.

The emotional whiplash was honestly impressive.

Leon turned the wheel around a curve.

Then held his phone toward Lucien.

"Put your number in."

Lucien turned suspicious.

"No."

"For the transfer."

Lucien grabbed the phone instantly.

Leon huffed out a quiet laugh.

Smart.

He watched Lucien type for a second.

"What's your name?"

"Lin Yu’an," Lucien gave the hard one on purpose.

Leon repeated it carefully.

The pronunciation was awful.

Lucien burst out laughing before he could stop himself.

Leon glanced sideways.

"That bad?"

"A little."

"...."

Lucien tried to stop smiling. Failed.

Leon repeated it again anyway.

"Lin Yu… An."

Still wrong.

Still weirdly charming.

Lucien's smile faded softer this time.

Nobody here really said his name correctly.

Mostly Americans making random guesses after giving up halfway through.

But Leon was actually trying.

"That one was better," Lucien admitted quietly.

Leon noticed the shift in his expression.

Very interesting.

By the time they reached campus, the rain clouds had cleared completely.

Leon parked outside Lucien's dorm and got out first.

He opened the passenger door automatically.

Lucien climbed out carrying Leon's jacket.

For a second, neither moved.

Then Leon spoke quietly.

"I really am sorry."

Lucien waved one hand dramatically.

"Just send the money."

Leon laughed under his breath this time.

Actually laughed.

"Yeah," he said. "I will."

Lucien turned toward the dorm entrance.

Leon watched him go all the way inside.

Only after the doors shut behind him did Leon finally look away.

A cigarette appeared between his fingers seconds later.

His phone rang.

Joey.

Leon answered.

"Where the hell are you? You missed training."

"Busy."

A pause.

Then Joey groaned loudly.

"Oh my God. You found somebody attractive."

Leon ignored that entirely.

"I need tickets."

"What."

"Eight."

"Leon."

"Eight."

"Do you know how impossible your own tickets are to get?"

"Yes."

"You're an asshole."

"You'll survive."

Joey cursed him out for another thirty seconds anyway.

Leon ended the call first.

Then glanced once more toward the dorm building before finally driving away.

—

Lucien slept for nearly sixteen straight hours.

When he finally woke up, sunset light was spilling orange across the apartment kitchen.

One of his roommates had left pizza in the fridge.

Lucien ate it standing barefoot beside the counter while checking his phone.

Mostly empty notifications.

No family.

No close friends.

Just Jamie.

Jamie: Honey, are you still alive???

Jamie: You hook up with somebody last night???

Jamie: because if yes i NEED details

Lucien: Sorry. Slept all day.

Jamie: ALL DAY???

Jamie: Oh my god you definitely had sex

Lucien closed the chat instantly.

Absolutely not.

His phone buzzed again.

Bank notification.

Lucien glanced down absentmindedly.

Then froze.

The pizza nearly slid out of his hand.

Wire Transfer Received.

$100,000.00

Lucien stopped breathing.

"…What the fuck?"