[ Tartaglia's lips twist into a grin of unmistakable glee as the enforcer steps into his line of sight. Itchy fingers slowly bring his rifle up to bear as he crouches at the very edge of the roof, still covered by the tiles and sharp angles. Morax's right hand man was here, which means the intel was good! And that at any point, Morax himself would soon show and the fun could truly begin.
The next person to leap from the car gives Tartaglia pause, however. That's Director Hu Tao — a name and a face that Tartaglia only knows because like any boy with a crush, he had scoured all information he could find about the mysterious chess player he met on the way to Teucer's school. Unfortunately for the object of his current obsession, with the resources of the Fatui at Ajax's disposal (unauthorized as it was), he was able to find out much about Mister Zhongli. Place of employment had been child's play to figure out, and it would be hard to forget the face of someone so young doing a job that was so difficult.
So Director Hu Tao had ties to Morax. Tartaglia supposes he shouldn't find that too surprising, considering the bodies had to go somewhere. And how much more convenient would it be if their cleaner was one of the best and most famous funeral parlors in all of Liyue.
He'd avoid her if he could just to be on the safe side. No reason to upset Mr. Zhongli by having his boss killed on accident. That would certainly damper the mood of his next interaction.
And so Tartaglia impatiently taps his forefinger against the top of his rifle, watching more and more people come and go from the area with eyes peeled for any sign of his prey. He doesn't have the best description of Morax unfortunately — just a crumpled blurry photo that showed off the man's dress more than his appearance. But certainly the infamous boss of Liyue would be identified easily enough by presence alone. Especially with Tartaglia keeping his eyes tightly trained on his enforcer.
And all would have gone gloriously to plan, too, had one other person not entered the stage. One equally incredibly handsome and clueless figure who was walking into a death trap without the slightest indication that he knew the danger he was in.
What was Mister Zhongli doing here?
What was Mister Zhongl—
Okay, well, obviously he was here because his boss was here. Was he still on the clock this late at night? And did he even know who these people were?! They were dangerous. Mister Zhongli could easily get caught in the cross-fire if Morax were to show up and—
The thrill and the adrenaline of the hunt freezes like shards of ice in his veins.
No. Oh no. No no no.
Within seconds, the sniper rifle is stored back into its hiding position on the rooftop as Tartaglia begins to madly strip anything off of him that might tie him to the Fatui — his red mask, scarf, the dark jacket, any other bits of protective armor. By the time he's scaled the side of the building, two dark alleyways in front of where Zhongli was headed, he's clothed in nothing but his black slacks, boots, and a now wrinkled red dress shirt as he scurries to intercept Mr. Zhongli and redirect him anywhere that isn't here.
But with what excuse? This whole event is so way above the paygrade of a toy salesmen — even an executive one. With only moments to make his decision and years of acting the part of a dumb foolish boy, Ajax ruffles up his hair to make himself look a little bit more unkempt and physically bumps into Zhongli like a drunkard stumbling home on his way back from a night out with co-workers. ]
1/2
The next person to leap from the car gives Tartaglia pause, however. That's Director Hu Tao — a name and a face that Tartaglia only knows because like any boy with a crush, he had scoured all information he could find about the mysterious chess player he met on the way to Teucer's school. Unfortunately for the object of his current obsession, with the resources of the Fatui at Ajax's disposal (unauthorized as it was), he was able to find out much about Mister Zhongli. Place of employment had been child's play to figure out, and it would be hard to forget the face of someone so young doing a job that was so difficult.
So Director Hu Tao had ties to Morax. Tartaglia supposes he shouldn't find that too surprising, considering the bodies had to go somewhere. And how much more convenient would it be if their cleaner was one of the best and most famous funeral parlors in all of Liyue.
He'd avoid her if he could just to be on the safe side. No reason to upset Mr. Zhongli by having his boss killed on accident. That would certainly damper the mood of his next interaction.
And so Tartaglia impatiently taps his forefinger against the top of his rifle, watching more and more people come and go from the area with eyes peeled for any sign of his prey. He doesn't have the best description of Morax unfortunately — just a crumpled blurry photo that showed off the man's dress more than his appearance. But certainly the infamous boss of Liyue would be identified easily enough by presence alone. Especially with Tartaglia keeping his eyes tightly trained on his enforcer.
And all would have gone gloriously to plan, too, had one other person not entered the stage. One equally incredibly handsome and clueless figure who was walking into a death trap without the slightest indication that he knew the danger he was in.
What was Mister Zhongli doing here?
What was Mister Zhongl—
Okay, well, obviously he was here because his boss was here. Was he still on the clock this late at night? And did he even know who these people were?! They were dangerous. Mister Zhongli could easily get caught in the cross-fire if Morax were to show up and—
The thrill and the adrenaline of the hunt freezes like shards of ice in his veins.
No. Oh no. No no no.
Within seconds, the sniper rifle is stored back into its hiding position on the rooftop as Tartaglia begins to madly strip anything off of him that might tie him to the Fatui — his red mask, scarf, the dark jacket, any other bits of protective armor. By the time he's scaled the side of the building, two dark alleyways in front of where Zhongli was headed, he's clothed in nothing but his black slacks, boots, and a now wrinkled red dress shirt as he scurries to intercept Mr. Zhongli and redirect him anywhere that isn't here.
But with what excuse? This whole event is so way above the paygrade of a toy salesmen — even an executive one. With only moments to make his decision and years of acting the part of a dumb foolish boy, Ajax ruffles up his hair to make himself look a little bit more unkempt and physically bumps into Zhongli like a drunkard stumbling home on his way back from a night out with co-workers. ]