Li Fang looked awfully nonplussed to have been given that yarn. Perhaps he believed it, or maybe it was one of those purported questions he already knew the answer to. Whatever the case, his expression did not shift, save for an ever-so-slight raise of his green-scaled brows.

"You failed," he echoed quietly, his voice smooth and not overly deep, but somehow perpetually, unmistakably serious as the grave. "The media would have me believe the empire is gone, and you succeeded. Why is that?"

Li Fang didn't acknowledge Ace's statement about what they were calling themselves. He just tilted his head ever so and gave Ace a most appraising look. "You're doing well," he said. "I almost want to believe you've done this before."

The reptile slithered slowly around the other side of his desk, dragging his hand along its glass edge. He seated himself soundlessly.

"You say many things, and project yourself as one who cooperates well and willingly, while you omit details you know are important," he stated placidly. Though speaking with carefully measured pace and no verbal haste, he clearly had little patience for the interrogation. "I still need to be convinced, Mr. Crawford. I know about your working relationship with this one," he gestured to Tracer, "and I know it's too opportune that you would 'happen' to crash here — 'happen' to find yourself fighting to foil her work for me here, Chun-nan, my home, across the world from your home. So, as if your well-being depends on it — and it does — tell me quickly who is now in control, what your relation is to them, and why they would send you to me, here, now."

He seemed to find himself, the here, and the now particularly critical at the moment just by the way he said those words. Perhaps it had to do with the mirror, and the fact that Ace and the others had arrived just in time to very nearly stop its theft. It did almost seem as if they had been dispatched... even if that was so very, very far from the truth.

"... Hm."

It took several long, uncomfortable moments before Li Fang visibly reacted, but when he did, it almost sounded like the smallest, barely-amused hum of a laugh, and it came with a slow nod of the cold, cold reptile's head.

He said something in Chunese to the thugs, discomfiting any efforts Ace may have been making to discern how his story had been received. They nodded; the one with the wrench chortled and said something Ace couldn't understand, but was unmistakably wry-sounding. They then seized Ace under the arms to pull him out of his chair and haul him back toward where they'd found him.

Li rested his elbows on his desk and obscured his mouth with loosely-folded hands as he slouched forward in thought.

Some seconds after Ace had been removed from the room, Li Fang was still sitting statuesque in place. Without shifting or moving at all, he addressed Tracer and Archer, quietly stating, "That will be all."

Probably as they were about to depart and leave behind them the easiest job they'd likely ever done (stand and stare intimidatingly in case the hostage tries anything), the lizard lowered his hands to the desk, raised his head, and cast his gaze more directly on Tracer.

"Before you go—"

He drew a breath and squinted.

"Do you think he told the truth?"

Ace found himself hauled down a different corridor than before, and the trip was longer. His captors seemed busier talking, now, rather than actively tormenting him. Clearly, they were having some sort of very funny and witty conversation, but not in any language Ace could understand.

Right. Witty. These guys. One of them laughed so hard at something the other said that he lost a little snot. He didn't seem overly concerned with wiping it off. Even the armed guards they were passing seemed irritated by their presence.

The walls through this new area looked of polished tile, shades of bone white and brown, with the occasional small skylight. Ace may have found it distantly familiar from when he was originally hauled in, half-conscious; a little closer observation would finally reveal the fact that they were in some kind of abandoned subway. It was the kind of place that, under any other circumstances, would have been kind of charming, even pretty in its own way.

Nothing was pretty with the escort Ace had, though. The three canines soon dragged him through another, uglier utility corridor, past some circuit boxes and annoyingly-buzzing electrical equipment, and to another bland, metal door. The one with the wrench and gaudy jacket opened the door, and the others hurled Ace in.

He would find that he landed on something that wasn't quite as hard as the concrete floor. One could only hope it wasn't a body.

It was like being in a dream. You knew you were alive, yet at the same time, you felt dead.

That was the current state of Wyatt. Having used almost all of his energy in a previous escape attempt, he only had enough to where he could still just [i]barely[i] function.

He was dimly aware of the bright light that washed over him, and the creak of the door as it was pulled open. However, he was in no way prepared for the massive weight of Ace as the other cat was thrown on top of him. The sudden impact jolted him, knocking what little air was in his lungs out. It took him a couple minutes, but he managed to regain his breath. He tried to respond in some way, but it only came out as a weak and tired groan.