[The morning after his and Charles' deaths, Hong Kong awakens in the master bedroom of 767 Bunker Street. The room is still in the same ripped apart state that the hazmats left it in and his hands tense around the torn and shredded duvet as he looks around.
After a while, he reaches out to pick up the phone on the bedside table to make a call, but
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...Wei?
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Just calling to see if everything's all right.
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he doesn't clarify, only asks some questions of his own]
...Did you pass it on? You didn't keep it?
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It's going to be fine.
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Still need to be careful.
Make sure you've got an escape route from the house planned if you can't get out the front door.
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Are you worried?
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Don't assume that you can't still be eliminated from the game just because you've passed it on.
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I can't be wrong.
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...I don't want to talk about it. Just be on the lookout or something.
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You don't understand.
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Just listen to what I've said. They might stop by.
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That would mean I made the wrong choice and I've put my family in danger. So I can't be wrong. You don't understand.
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