"I don't like giving statements."
After saying that, Yang Ming bent down and picked up the black containment bag from the ground. Inside, the Cold Gun lay still.
Snart leaned against a tire, his face pale. When he saw Yang Ming take the gun, he finally couldn't hold back.
"Leave it."
Yang Ming looked back.
"It's mine."
"Correction." Yang Ming lifted the containment bag. "You stole it."
Snart gritted his teeth.
"You don't know how dangerous it is."
"I do."
Yang Ming glanced at the frost lingering on the barrel.
"That's why I can't leave it with you."
Barry had just regained the ability to move. Bracing himself against the guardrail, he walked over.
"Yang Ming, that gun should go to the police."
"The police?" Yang Ming raised an eyebrow. "So they can put it in the evidence room and wait for some crooked cop to sell it to the next robber?"
Barry had no answer for that. There were good people in the Central City Police Department, of course, but some evidence really did slip through their fingers.
Kyle had been missing for nine months, and Snart had a weapon of unknown origin. Clearly, this city wasn't nearly as clean as it looked.
Yang Ming patted the containment bag.
"I'll hold on to it for now."
"Once I'm sure it won't freeze any more of my colleagues, I'll decide who gets it."
Barry looked at him.
"Will you give it back?"
Yang Ming adjusted his glasses.
"Depends on my mood."
"Yang Ming, you..."
"Relax. I don't make my fortune selling scrap metal."
As he spoke, Yang Ming tucked the containment bag inside his coat.
A second later.
The containment bag vanished.
Snart's expression changed.
Barry froze for a moment, too.
He had clearly seen Yang Ming put the gun