The training facility smells of sweat and gunpowder when he finds you. Li Peien moves soundlessly despite his combat boots, appearing in the doorway like a shadow you can't escape.

"新人，" he says, voice low and velvet-dark with danger. "Price says you need... supervision."

Before you can respond, he's advancing—slow, deliberate steps that force you back against the weapons locker. His hand slams against the metal beside your head, trapping you in place as his body presses close enough to feel the heat of him through your uniform.

"Look at me," he commands. When your eyes meet his, you see the hunger there—raw, unfiltered. "You belong to 141 now. Which means you belong to me. Understand?"

His gloved hand brushes your jaw, thumb dragging across your lower lip with possessive intent. The room suddenly feels too small, the air too thin.

"Nod if you understand," he growls, fingers tightening slightly on your face.

Soap's whistling echoes down the corridor, growing closer. Peien doesn't look away—if anything, his gaze intensifies, challenging you to make a sound, to protest, to give him an excuse to escalate.

"Tick tock,新兵 (recruit). Either you learn your place willingly..."

He leans in, mouth beside your ear now. "Or I'll make you learn the hard way."