"I returned it."
---
Lieutenant Rudolph did not immediately respond.
His hand still rested near the weapon case, but his eyes stayed on Li Qinwu for a few seconds longer than necessary.
Then, slowly, he withdrew his hand.
The tension in the tent eased slightly, but neither of them spoke.
---
The small electric stove continued to crackle.
The roasted potatoes gave off a faint, earthy smell that mixed strangely with the metallic scent of oil and weapons inside the tent.
Li Qinwu sat back down, calm again, as if nothing had happened.
---
Rudolph finally closed the weapon case with a firm click.
He turned back to his desk, flipping open the notebook again.
But his writing slowed.
---
"You're not normal," Rudolph said flatly.
---
Li Qinwu didn't look up.
"I never said I was."
---
A pause.
Only the sound of pages turning.
---
Rudolph stopped writing for a moment.
Then he reached into the side drawer of the table.
He pulled out a sealed metal box and placed it down.
---
Without ceremony, he opened it.
Inside was a single magazine of ammunition.
Black-tipped rounds.
He slid it forward slightly, but did not let it fully leave his hand.
---
"Armor-piercing," Rudolph said.
"For the rifle you just asked about."
---
Li Qinwu's eyes moved to it immediately.
But he did not reach for it yet.
---
Rudolph continued.
"You don't get this for free."
---
Li Qinwu finally leaned forward slightly.
"What's the condition?"
---
Rudolph looked at him directly now.
"This isn't a gang weapon."
"This is military-grade. Registered."
---
He tapped the magazine once.
"If you use it, and it comes back to us traced, I lose my position."
---
Silence again.
The stove crackled louder than either of them.
---
Li Qinwu nodded slowly.
"So you're gambling on me."
---
Rudolph answered immediately.
"No."
A pause.
"I'm testing whether you're worth gambling on."
---
Li Qinwu exhaled through his nose.
Then he took the magazine.
No hesitation this time.
---
Rudolph watched him closely as he did.
---
"You said there's a chemical gang?" Rudolph asked.
---
Li Qinwu pocketed the magazine.
"Yes."
---
Rudolph leaned back slightly.
"They're not your level."
---
Li Qinwu looked up now.
"Neither was the mass grave."
---
That answer stopped Rudolph for a moment.
---
He closed his notebook.
Fully this time.
---
"Then don't die," Rudolph said.
"That's all I require."
---
Li Qinwu stood up slowly.
He adjusted his backpack straps.
The roasted potatoes were finished.
He picked one up, took a bite, and walked toward the tent exit.
---
At the doorway, he paused briefly.
Without turning around, he said:
"If I come back alive, I'll bring more than 38."
---
Rudolph didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"I expect nothing less."
---
Li Qinwu stepped out.
---
Cold air hit him again.
The camp was still noisy—laughing soldiers, distant shouting, flickering lights across trenches and bunkers.
A war that didn't stop even at night.
---
He tightened his grip on his gear.
And walked forward.
---
The direction was already decided.
The chemical gang wouldn't wait forever.
---
And neither would he.