POV from a camera mounted directly behind a fired bullet, racing forward through its exact flight path, motion blur streaking the tunnel-vision edges of frame. The bullet rockets out of a gun barrel in a cramped, neon-lit stairwell inside Kowloon Walled City, then tears through the labyrinth: bursting past hanging wet laundry, grazing over a steaming noodle stall, punching through a beaded curtain in slow-motion beads, ripping through a paper lantern that explodes into embers, skimming over a mahjong table sending tiles flying without hitting anyone, blasting through a cracked window pane into a narrow rain-slicked alley, weaving between exposed pipes and tangled electrical wires, before finally clipping a hanging wind chime and burying itself into a thick wooden support beam with a final shuddering thud, dead center, no one harmed.

Camera language: ultra-wide fisheye distortion, extreme speed with subtle believable deceleration on impact, handheld micro-shake as if riding shockwaves through air, anamorphic lens flare from neon signs smearing across frame in long streaks.

Style: Wong Kar-wai's Fallen Angels — desaturated jade greens and feverish reds, practical neon and fluorescent tube lighting bleeding into halos, wide-angle distortion warping the corridors, grainy high-contrast film stock, dutch angles, a claustrophobic, dreamlike, urban-decay intimacy even at bullet speed. Sound: a single gunshot crack, then muffled underwater-like whoosh, cymbal-wash ambience, distant Cantopop bleeding through walls, ending on a deep resonant thud as the bullet stops