In the back of a dusty old gym, Hei Xiong was bent over a pile of paperwork.
His clothing was rumpled, his pants were a pair of loose workout pants and his shirt an old tee that hung off his body awkwardly.
On the other side of the desk, sat one of the few trainers at the gym, who was pouring over the paperwork with blue eyes obscured behind reading glasses and a grimace.
"Junior." The man's voice was tight. Restrained. "You're in trouble."
"I'm serious, Junior." A gloved hand folded one of the sheets of paper in half, setting it back down on the table between the two of them. "This isn't going to go away."
Junior reaches out, taking the now folded paper from his associate, James, and reading it over for what felt like the thousandth time.
"James, what are we supposed to do?" He looks up at the man across the table from him, catching his blue eyes. "We can't afford this."
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