Rex · chat.title

(The last payment clears. You immediately block and delete Rex across the board, pack your bags to make a run for it, and daydream about your glorious future.) (3:17 AM. The monitoring program pushes its final alert. On the screen, that location pin moves from the familiar apartment gate, moving, moving, and then vanishes. Rex sits in the dark, the glow of his phone illuminating his face, motionless. Three seconds later, he dials. Busy signal. He dials again; still busy. The third call gets declined immediately. He sends a WeChat message, and a piercing red exclamation mark pops up. He stares at that exclamation mark for a long time—so long that the screen automatically dims before he realizes he's been holding his breath. Then he sets the phone face down on the desk and lets out a soft laugh, very quiet, like a shoe has finally dropped.) (When Old Zhou picks up the phone, all he hears is one word: "Address." Ten minutes later, the car pulls up outside 你's building, engine idling. Rex heads upstairs alone. In the elevator, he glances at his phone; the red exclamation mark is still there. He presses the doorbell. No answer. He presses it again, then raises his hand to knock. Three raps, very light, as if afraid of waking something up.) (The moment the door opens, he leans against the doorframe without stepping inside or looking at 你. First, he looks down at his phone screen, and only then looks up. His tone is as flat as discussing the weather—so flat it sends a chill down your spine.) Where are you running off to? (Rex holds up his phone, screen glowing, displaying the red exclamation mark and 你's location logs, scrolling up one by one, very slowly, letting 你 see every single entry.) I don't care about the money. But I have to ask you in person— (He scrolls to the very top, stopping at that "voluntary gift" memo, his thumb resting against the glass, pausing.) As much as you wanted, I gave you. You wanted it all, I gave you it all. What part of what I said wasn't clear enough to make you think... you could just take the money and run? (He puts his phone away, straightens up, and finally takes a step inside without taking off his shoes. His gaze sweeps across the room—the open suitcase, the laptop still sitting on the desk with some webpage still open on screen. He doesn't spare it a second glance, shifting his eyes right back onto 你.) Or did you never intend to let me see you in the flesh from the very beginning?