[color=gold]"Its tragic really, a professional musician drowned out by the din of his own firearms, if I was going to die to your soundtrack the least you could do is let me listen to it, its a March right? A military one?"[/color]

Jiang, rolled his eyes, not just a foreigner but low born too. Did she really think he did this at concerts, in front of a real audience? She didn't know it was the baton that did the heavy lifting, and she was never going to. To think he'd do this in the Shaanxi Grand Opera House, the girl had special educational needs. And what, she DESERVED to hear it because she was going to die? What she deserved was to only catch the silence between the bars, and a bullet or two. Who does she think she is?

The scent of caramelising onions drifted fleetingly through the room adding a deliciously sweet aroma to the stale dry smell of finely powdered cement and the distinctly pungent smell of nitroglycerin. Mr. Zhao barely noticed, concentrating on his music and the pillar that hid the girl.  

The ideas angered Jiang, was she truly that stupid? She couldn't possibly be quite that dense, they were in a tournament till the loss of their soul and she wasn't going to fight anyone? Just play baby's first accordion pieces badly, make friends with everyone using her dulcet tones and quirky accent and just hope nobody just straight up tears her in too? Killing her with a bullet to the brain right now was likely a mercy compared to the horrors they would have to face later, compared to what would happen if someone would just snatch her soul from her chest. She was clearly not ready for this, not ready for this competition. It didn't make any sense, why was she even here?

It was a ruse.

EVERYTHING about her so far had to have been a ruse. There was no other explanation, she has some terrible power lying in wait for him and all she needed was for him to drop his guard. That had to be her plan, appear meek and kind to gently eat away at the barriers and when the final one falls, Fánróng! Dead. Not going to happen, laowai.

[color=red]"I KNOW YOUR GAME, LAOWAI"[/color], the conductor screamed over the gun fire, continuing to conduct with gusto, belting out "우리의 총대는 용서치 않으리" with all the vigour and passion the piece embodied. 


   


[color=red]"NOTHING MORE TO SAY? NO MORE SCHOOLGIRL QUESTIONS?"[/color]


   


[color=red]"I CAN KEEP THIS UP, LAOWAI"[/color]

[url=https://youtu.be/XRot0mhT0k4?t=156]2:36[/url]

The guns stopped firing, the dust and smoke obscured the pillar but strong light cast a shadowy silhouette through it. Just behind the crumbling but still standing support was a slumped figure, sat on the floor. Jiang stood ready, baton raised high for the first swish of his second movement, his other hand poised to introduce the first section of his invisible orchestra. As the dust settled it became clearer and clearer the figure wasn't moving. A familiar sly grin crawled round Mr. Zhao's proud face; the first victim to fall to the combined power of his musical talent and superior Chinese technology.

[color=gold]"Take a bow, maestro."[/color]The figure whispered loudly.

Garbage's plan had backfired slightly, maybe it was underestimating a musician's desire to play there piece to completion, maybe it was the shock of the hail of kinetic force, light and noise being thrown at her. Fortunately she had the good sense to continue her retreat. The pillar provided her a blind spot to move back into the crowd of robots and disperse amongst them, leaving behind the accordion and a mini-speaker with the volume turned up. It was a shame to give them up so early, but the squeezebox was much too cumbersome in a real fight, it was wishful thinking.

[color=gold]"I'm already on my way out, so we can talk until I leave the range of the speaker, or I can't hear you any longer. Conductor, I wish you the best of luck in the rest of the competition, however I want you to know this. You saw them. You are a mere mortal in a game of monsters. You need to eat. You need to sleep. You need to find clean water. They don't. They can wait you out, you'll fatigue, become weak and eventually you'll beg them to end to your miserable existence out here. However, you've won the proverbial Crucible lottery, you've landed in a place which isn't immediately hazardous to your health, with a person who understands you and is willing to not fight you and cooperate with you despite having been shown no reason to trust you BECAUSE she understands the leg up having an ally would have in this competition. We can duke it out for the final soul at the very end as the most bitter, begrudging arch-nemeses, but we won't even get there without others to help us level the playing field and beat back the real terrors."[/color]

Garbage paused, giving Jiang a moment to contemplate. In the near silence Garbage stood stock still, worried her footsteps weren't masked by the pings of springs and clicks of cogs. Shelly knew he wasn't stupid, he was a goddamn conductor. The problem before was she wasn't taking him seriously, making light of the situation undermined the atmosphere he was attempting to conjure. Taking him seriously, as a musician and a threat was what he needed, and her new, rational refusal to not fight him should help him understand her original message. 

[color=gold]"The choice is yours, continue fighting me or shoot down the drone that'll try to manipulate you into doing the former, then lets find something to alcoholic to drink while we try to work out how we're going to thrive in this fucked up world of skeletons, knights and Cheshire horrors."[/color]

Not knowing where the laowai was put Dàshī Zhao on edge, but her continued commitment to pacifism was becoming convincing. He had a moment to consider his options and weigh them carefully, could he waltz through this competition without her right now?