From Wan's site, Part2:

I felt disappointed rather than threatened when the shooting happened.

It was Wang Yao. It must be him, I could assure you that. Don't know whether it was female's sensibility or my familiarization with him.

Wang Yao, you have promised that you won't kill in front of me. You have promised not to show me anything murky. But you broke your words.

I hold my shoulder, because I felt my heart was cold. My dress was covered with wine which made me uncomfortable. Alfred was not with me. I watched the policemen cordoned off the spot and circled the body with white lines, keeping in my place.

Like the rest of the restaurant, I was asked to leave by the policemen. the noises there made me back to the real world. Wang Yao had told me that I was supposed to stay in the sun, while he was borne of the dark.

From the time when I got the ability to remember things, the impression he gave me was a brother with a scar which would stay on his face forever. Perhaps he does have a special addiction to violence. Filthy streets and the swaying fruits, as well as the gross Chinese, were the biggest features Of the Chinatown in San Francisco. The probability of violence's happening there may not be lower than that in the Darktown - who knows. Residents in the Darktown were well-educated owing to the increased prices of the houses. I hated where I lived, however, Wang Yao was to there what fish was to water. He could made food by all means, and also, the money.

He killed someone for the first time when I was 7, and he was about 14 - even now I do not know his exact age. He went back with blood from head to foot. The smell made me sick and I was scared to cry. After that he threw his dress which was covered with blood, but still I didn't talk to him. I did not believe him simply from then on. Then he promised not to let me see such things anymore, and not to let me see him killing anymore, but I knew that he was stilling working like that. He had caused more and more death. We led an easier life after that, with no more lack of money, and I had been successfully educated for a long time. But every time when I sat down to have my meal that he made for me, I had visions of my soup's turning into scarlet liquid - I have been being not able to eat scarlet food or dress in scarlet.

He also began to alienate me. He never smiled to me from then on, and when having meals with me, he hadn't looked at me for even only one time. I couldn't understand it. Sometimes he would go out for a long time but when came back, he would lock himself in his own room without any words. He did not explain anything to me. Every time that he came back, we would get more money and have a slightly improved life. I didn't want to ask, nor did I have to ask, though I could see that he put a decomposed gun into his suitcase. I pretended that I did not know anything because I was worried. I was worried about one day when he would point his gun at me.

But this still happened. It happened when I graduated from the senior high school.

Wang Yao has always wanted me to study in Berkley, or Stanford. Though the price of Stanford was higher, he would try in every ways to afford it. I knew that he wanted me to stay in San Francisco, hoping that I would choose a local university. But I looked forward to Princeton, which was a university full of cultural atmosphere located in the eastern coast. I had to admit it that I wanted to leave here, to begin my new life in the other coast of this continent. I has the right to enjoy what a girl was supposed to have like the other contemporary.

We argued for this problem. This was our most drastic argument, and I overthrow the table, which made the breakfast drop all over the ground, turning into a strange shape. He strongly commanded I stay in San Francisco. Dare I leave there, he would lock me in the house forever. I threatened him by saying that I would commit suicide in front of him, and he took out his gun to point it at my face.

It was the first time that I was pointed at by a gun in my 17-year-life. Facing that dark muzzle, I was so scared that my leg trembled, losing the ability to speak. After a moment, he put the gun away. Immediately I plopped down to the ground, bursting into tears. He went out from the house, spoke nothing. Since then on I have never seen him again.

After I calmed myself down, I packed the baggages and took the money that could be found in the house, hurriedly. I was afraid of getting into his room, but fortunately a sum of money were in a small bookcase in the livingroom. I left the house, wearing a hat on purpose. My only thought was not to let Wang Yao find me. I was afraid of coming back to this home that I could't stay.

But I could'd get rid of him. He followed me secretly to New York, watching me in somewhere I couldn't see him. At first I thought that he wanted to kill me, but I was wrong. Whatever, only the account added to me could prove his existence. Maybe he wanted to persuade me of his regretfulness , but I would never forgive him.

Wang Yao, why can't you let me go?

From Yao's site, Part1:

I regretted the moment I pulled the trigger. I had promised not to kill in front of her but I was breaking my words that time.

When I got the news about where my target was, I was dying to give up this task because Wan was at the same place. But they could send anyone else to do this task if I give up it. For example, Vash Zwingli.

Vash would kill with no hesitation. He was and is calmer than me. Elizabeth believed that I ought to learn from Vash at this point，but I knew I couldn't. my sister was not the same as his, and I was not the same as him. Vash was a lucky man. He had a lovely sister who would always listen to him.

I chose to use an M200 to snipe him from 2200 yards way. When Elizabeth reported this to Ivan, he denied my decision. Ivan asked me for giving him a reason to do so, and my answer was that there would be a policeman there, and the longer the length from he and I was, the easier it was for me to flee. Apparently Ivan didn't believe it, but finally he agreed.

I aimed at my target in the sighting telescope. I prayed that he would be a little far from Wan though I knew that it was ridiculous. No matter how far it was, they were still in the same restaurant. Views in the sighting telescope was shaking. I was too far from my target so it was not so easy to lock at him as he was too small. The trajectory of my bullet would be wholly different with just a bit deviation.

But I wouldn't fail as Elizabeth knew. Ivan knew it better. If I failed, there was only one reason for it, and the reason must be my purpose. They knew it.

Or I could wait for the best mentality as well as the best chance. We sniper just needed such things. If he went away, I could give up this task. And that would become my second reason for not doing so.

But as everybody knew, I was bound to hit the target accurately, especially when the stationary target was on his seat.

She was in a white dinner jacket, with a happy face. She had never show me such a happy face since she was 7.

All of this was caused by me.

I was an orphan. I always felt lonely before Wan went into my life. When I was 10, I adopted her secretly. Neighbors in the Chinatown thought me extremely naive and counseled me that she was bound to die soon of hunger. But I raised her up, though she was like a mere bag of bones when she was young. She grew up day by day. In order to make a living I rushed into danger to work as a killer. At that time my boss was not Ivan but his father - a merciless codger known as the general of winter. He looked down upon me - a dirty, skinny Chinese boy. I grabbed his guards' guns with no words, in order to prove myself. To be honest, I had no experience to use a gun at all, and my behave almost led me be killed by his guards. At that moment he decided to employ me, thinking that I had the determination to become a killer.

I used a knife to do my first task, but I failed to hit my target with just one hit. Stabbing this struggling man for several times made myself covered by his blood from head to foot. When I got back home, my bloody looks scared Wan seriously. I regretted and promised it to her that I wouldn't let her see such things anymore. After that I began to learn marksmanship skills with no effort spared, in stead of using knives, because I had to protect myself from the scarlet liquid.

Soon after that, however, I found a more frightening thing for me: she was growing into a girl that I couldn't simply regard her as my young sister. When I realized that there was a beast in me, I hate that foul Wang Yao, and tried to decrease the communication with Wan. By doing that, I sadly found that she had aliened me. We still live together while we seldom said something to each other.

After her graduation I told her that she'd the best study in a local university. There was no problem for her to get access to Berkley because her mark was high enough. Or if she wanted to go Stanford, I would try my best to get her tuition. It was out of my expectation that she wanted to go Princeton, a famous university located in the eastern coast. We argued and she overthrew the table. For this, I did the most stupid thing in my whole life: I pointed at her with my gun.

Though no bullet was in it.

She was scared to death. I put down my gun and left. I knew she would leave our home after I left and I would let it happen. I could see in the shadow that she left there, carrying her baggage. I couldn't see her face but I knew that she wouldn't come back anymore.

I followed her to New York. I declared it to Ivan that I would only take those tasks in the eastern part of this country, and if he won't allow it, I would leave him alone. He said that leaving him would only made me starve to death or be captured by the police, but finally he agreed, and kept the contact with me through Elizabeth. No long after that he came to the east coast and stayed here. I didn't asked him why, because I didn't care.

I kept watching her, defending her in where she couldn't find me. Ivan then learnt it that it was she that could let him trip up me, so it became much more difficult for me to protect Wan. Soon an annoying character came into being. He was a police with the name of Jones, who has been tracking her. I realized it that his goal was to find me out, but by tracking her, he would mix Wan up in our affair that did not concern her. I tried to kill this policeman, in order to dig up roots of future troubles, but killing a policeman would cause bigger trouble, so I had to give up. All I could do was to watch. Watching their every date gave me the chance to see her sweet smile. Though it was not for me, I could feel some comfortable.

Elizabeth's voice in the earphone called me back to the real world: "Time to wake up, Yao! Ivan let me tell you to have your coffee quickly, or we'll ask your sister to have the next cup of coffee? "

I didn't want to concern about any other things anymore. I had a thought to beat a woman for the first time. Looked from the telescope, my target was still on his seat. I had no choice but to pull the trigger with my fingers. It has become my instinct. My body with years of trainings was a machine to cooperate with all kinds of firearms. The bullet rushed to his head. I knew this was a fatal shoot though I did not look at it.

I threw the M200 away to escape the moment the turmoil in that restaurant happened. My feeling of lost was out of description. I had done something that give me hell, because I killed, in front of Wan.

From Alfred's site, Part2:

Getting back to the restaurant, I found Wan, but she didn't utter a word. She seemed to be a little better with my placating her. She leant against me to have a rest but I took her to the police office. Recording confession is a necessary procedure.

Yao slid away from me once again, but now his action had already betrayed him.

I knew little about him, except his photo of his childhood and his scattered data. This time I had got something new. There was some water on the building which he hid in, maybe it was the rain that caused it. So when I got there, I could see some semi-dried footprints. Judging from these footprints I could make a conclusion that Yao was a shorty, about five feet and six inches. If I continued, I could get the type and brand of his shoes. But only these things could never help me find him out. Chinese Shorty were everywhere. More importantly, if this pair of shoes was not of a special brand, or a limitedly produced version, it was unimaginable to handle him.

But I got closer to him after all. Wait for me, you shorty.