Keung, awash with anxiety, confessed, ‘Cheng, I feel cornered, trapped. The energy to fret over the surface has all but left me, and now I have to solve this entire Yang problem within 100 cycles.’
Cheng’s calm voice cut through the gloom in the lecture hall. ‘We’re all in this together, sir. Have our circumstances changed from what we’re used to every day? From what I see, it’s business as usual. We’re swimming in leads, more than we’ve had in the last two annui-cycles. We have more allies and more resources than ever before, we’ll weather this storm. The revelations about the surface? That’s Emperor Puyin’s problem, not ours.’
The lecture hall was steeped in darkness, devoid of the usual thrum of scholarly pursuit. Keung sat at the front, occupying the spot usually reserved for the lecturers. The giant holo-screen loomed beside him, dormant and silent. Cheng was perched in the front row, his frame bathed in the room’s residual gloom. Keung couldn’t help but remember Cheng sitting on that very seat during their academy days in this same hall. Eight annui-cycles ago, but it felt like a different lifetime.
Back then, their days were filled with lessons on combat, climbing, mathematics, science, literature, history, and philosophy. They were moulded to be Kingmakers, entering the real world expecting their toughest challenges to be resolving petty politics and squabbles between nobles. A Kingmaker’s role was to mediate disputes, protect private property, track violent criminals and on rare, momentous occasions, carry out a Royal Regicide. But now, they were thrown into the brutal darkness of counterterrorism. How Keung wished they had a class for that in the academy.
‘Did anything strike you as…odd that night?’ Keung probed, searching Cheng’s face for any inkling of the insight he had come to expect from him.
Cheng, caught in the web of his thoughts, took a moment to compose his response. ‘Well,’ he finally said, ‘it would probably be more challenging to overlook all the oddities of that night in Ho Man Ting. Let’s consider this…’
His voice echoed through the dimness of the lecture hall; each point he raised amplified Keung’s worries. ‘The Tien Tao stalling at their fort and only rushing into the University building after The Ibilis finished his speech – it certainly didn’t sit right with me. This is atypical of Ho Man Ting’s seasoned ruler, Warlord Xinjian. I assumed he’d dive headfirst to get his Tien Tao in position to catch The Ibilis. These are the special ops of Man Ting; tardiness isn’t a characteristic we associate with them.’He paused for a moment, lost in thought. ‘The next thing I can’t stop thinking about is how the Tien Tao didn’t even know about this grand Yang event happening, while The Tai Li, hundreds and hundreds of kilometres away in Yau, had sniffed out suspicious activity a couple cycles prior. But let’s just entertain the idea that such a bafflingly massive event could have slipped under their radar. Why then did the Tien Tao only alert us thirty minutes AFTER the crowd began to gather? There were well over five hundred individuals in the courtyard when I arrived with General Denzhen. We should have gotten the call way sooner. There is supposed to be heavy surveillance in that square.’
Keung took a moment to process Cheng’s theories before voicing his concern. ‘Do you think the Southern Royals are conspiring with the Yang?’
‘If there are districts ripe for betrayal, it would indeed be the South,’ Cheng replied. ‘They’ve historically been the first to raise their voices, the first to bear arms. The roots of district rebellions are embedded deep in that side of the world, almost to the point where it has defined their culture and identity. And, in the aftermath of each conflict, the Emperor’s grip has always been the tightest around their necks, like a parent handling a troubled child.’
Keung sighed, a wave of disappointment washing over him. ‘I wish our relationship with the South wasn’t always this strained. Emperor Puyin has been making efforts to strengthen ties. With all those donations and construction projects we’re sending their way, a lot of his Zhaisheng has been focused on them. I can only hope it wasn’t all in vain.’
Cheng merely shook his head in reply. ‘Chances are it was.’
Keung, taken aback, frowned at his comrade. ‘When did you become such a pessimist?’
‘I’m not denying the gravity of our situation,’ Cheng said, the fire of determination burning in his eyes. ‘It’s bleak. That isn’t my pessimism speaking, it’s my gauge on reality. But I refuse to accept we won’t be able to handle whatever comes our way from here on out. We will! We always do.’
Keung nodded as he sank deeper into his swivel chair, a sense of calm washing over him. ‘You’re right, my brother. As always.’
Keung glanced at his holocommunicator to check the time — they were an hour away from dimming. ‘With any luck, they’ll start heading this way soon. Knowing our team, a few of them will probably be late,’ he mused.
Suddenly, a knock echoed through the otherwise silent room, emanating from the opaque glass door at the rear. ‘Come in!’ Cheng’s voice cut through the silence, prompting the door to slide open to reveal the figures of Han and Jin, the two Tai Li representatives from Yau. ‘Ah, welcome, you two. Please, have a seat,’ Cheng greeted, his voice cordial and warm.
The two newcomers bowed in respect, slipping into the last row of seats, higher up than the rest of the room. Keung, seated at the front desk, tapped a few keys, stirring the holo-screen board at the front of the lecture room to life. The board bathed in a soft blue glow — a blank canvas awaiting its instructions. The radiance from the board traced the sharp contours of Cheng’s face, accentuating his determined gaze. However, the illumination couldn’t quite reach the far end of the room, leaving Han and Jin comfortably veiled in the darkness.
Keung considered just turning on the overhead lights and cutting out the drama of having the room meeting dark and ominous but thought he’d look stupid if he changed it now.
‘Shouldn’t there be six more of you?’ Keung asked, breaking the ice with the two Tai Li, to which Han shook his head.
‘Yes, but in the interest of preserving confidentiality, they won’t be directly interacting with you Kingmakers. Ying made it abundantly clear how vital it was to maintain the secrecy of this operation. We’ll be the buffer for all knowledge shared between us and the rest of our team,’ Han explained.
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Cheng chimed in, the light from the holo-screen casting dancing shadows across the movement of his face, ‘I hope to get a glimpse of your team in action someday.’
‘That may yet come to pass,’ Han responded, his voice carrying the faintest hint of anticipation.
As if on cue, the door slid open once again to admit Yutai and Shing into the dimly lit lecture hall. They dispersed silently throughout the middle rows, their presence muted in the darkened room.
‘Good to see you two,’ Cheng greeted from his seat, glancing over his shoulder at the two latecomers. ‘Where’s Tao and Ushi?’
‘I think they got held up with something, but they’re on the way,’ Yutai responded, making himself comfortable in his chosen seat.
‘Let’s just get this started; those two can catch up when they get here,’ Shing interjected, his tone brisk and devoid of patience.
‘No, we need all of us here. This is too important.’ Keung gave a stern shake of his head.
Shing responded with a dismissive roll of his eyes, leaning back in his chair with his boots propped up on the table in a show of nonchalance. Yutai, meanwhile, was preoccupied with his sidearm, spinning its barrel absent-mindedly on the table like a top. His gaze flitted about the room, taking in the familiar surroundings of his old lecture room.
The room was thick with anticipation, each individual seemingly lost in their own thoughts with either eagerness or boredom. The stillness hung heavily in the air, punctuated only by the occasional hum of the holo-screen and the distant sounds of the world outside.
‘How was the trip here, Han? Jin?’ Cheng interrupted the silence, attempting to fill the void as they waited for Tao and Ushi. Jin was the one to respond. ‘Yeah, it was all right. Managed to get a quick nap in.’
‘Sounds great. The Luen siblings doing alright?’ Cheng asked again.‘Yeah, I guess as good as they could be under the current circumstances.’
‘I suppose in times like these, that’s all we can really hope for,’ Cheng mused, directing his attention back to the front.
Awkward coughs echoed in the room, the tension building as they waited for Tao and Ushi. Keung’s frustration was mounting when the door finally slid open, revealing a flustered Ushi and a dust-covered Tao. Apologies and excuses tumbled out of Tao’s mouth. ‘Shit, so sorry we’re late, had to fix this cooling unit, and then some rodents attacked me, and then Ushi needed to quickly pray and —’
‘It’s fine, Tao,’ Keung cut him off. ‘Take a seat and we can get started.’
Keung rose from his seat at the front, trying to establish eye contact with everyone present. Cheng, Ushi, Tao, and Yutai were sitting closeby, their faces illuminated by the soft blue glow from the screen. Shing, lounging in a middle row, was barely visible, but his nonchalant posture gave him away. The farthest away were Han and Jin, their figures only mere silhouettes in the gloomy room.
The gravity of what lay ahead wasn’t lost on Keung. He knew the key issues that needed to be addressed tonight.
‘We’ve convened here tonight with a clear and pressing objective- to dismantle the Yang. In the room, we have some fresh faces, unfamiliar with our operations and intel,’ Keung began, his voice straining to remain sharp and clear. ‘So, to level the playing field and reacquaint ourselves with the state of play, I’ll be taking us through everything we know. Our objective, our strategies after tonight, our plan moving forward — everything that will get us closer to our endgame for a safer Kowloon.’
He glanced briefly at Cheng, seeking silent affirmation. Cheng met his gaze and offered a confirming nod, letting him know he was doing well. This small gesture seemed to bolster Keung, who steeled himself for the challenging conversation ahead.
With a steadying breath, Keung pivoted to face the luminous board behind him, and with a tap on his holocommunicator on his wrist, the board flickered to life. Now displaying the presentation Keung prepared, there were two unmistakably familiar faces glowing off the large lecture board — a man’s on the left and a woman’s on the right.
‘Siu-Bak and Bijun. Information on them is scarce. All we know is that they fought in the District Rebellions when they were young and later retreated with other combatants into the Wildlands after rejecting peace terms. With Jian’s death, the two have risen back to the zenith of the Yang hierarchy,’ Keung began, his voice weighted with the significance of their targets. ‘Siu-Bak now commands the Northern and Eastern Yangs, while Bijun oversees the Core and Western regions.’
As Keung’s voice faltered, he swiftly composed himself, cleared his throat, and straightened his posture. Another tap on his wrist and with a nifty little spinning transition brought up a third face on the board, this time a masked figure, standing triumphantly atop a ledge at Ho Man Ting University. A collective shiver rippled through the room as everyone recognised the image from the shocking, spontaneous rally that had recently seized Ho Man Ting Square.
‘The Ibilis, or as the Yang have named him, Mogwei. We know more about No Man’s Land than we do about him,’ Keung stated, his voice laced with caution as he tapped the board. ‘But we do know the basics. Before Jian’s death, they both overlooked Yang operations in South Kowloon. Now…it’s just him.’ Keung’s voice faltered, as if the very mention of The Ibilis’ tightening grip was choking him.
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And none felt more choked than Yutai, stunned in fear, seeing the man he clashed fists against not long ago. He could almost smell the subtle tinge of the incense he wore.
‘We suspect he wields authority on par with Siu-Bak and Bijun, marking him as significant a threat. The Ibilis has massive influence over Southern conservatives, making him arguably the most dangerous. It doesn’t help that the southern branch of Yangs are the most blood-lusted of them all. Yutai, given that you’re the only one here who’s encountered him, would you like to share anything that could help us?’
A brief silence hung over the room as Yutai, momentarily severed from the flow of Keung’s words, found his gaze inexorably drawn to the visage of The Ibilis. The Zhanshi mask, once just an object, now morphed in his mind, imbued with new meaning. Much like the transformation of a stranger’s face into a friend, seen anew and differently upon the second encounter.
‘I’ll take that as a no, then,’ Keung uttered with a note of disappointment.Snapping back to the present, Yutai hurriedly replied, ‘I’m sorry, what did you ask?’
‘The Ibilis. Did you have any insights or experiences to share? With your battle with him.’
‘Oh right, yes. The Ibilis is a formidable adversary,’ he began. ‘I was totally unfamiliar with his combat style, but he seemed to predict my every move with unsettling ease. I barely held my own against him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s ex-King, or something.’
‘That couldn’t be true,’ Tao interjected. ‘All retired Kingmakers live here in Yu. I can’t imagine how one might run the Southern Yangs whilst living under our noses.’
From the shadows at the rear of the room, Han Shizhou’s voice entered the discussion. ‘It’s no ex-King. That, I know for sure. Yutai sir, you had a hard time because The Ibilis is most likely a practitioner of Chung Fu.’
‘Chung fu?’ Ushi echoed.
‘Yes, Cheug Fu,’ Han affirmed, sitting up straight in his chair. ‘A martial art long faded into oblivion, it was once prevalent in the ancient towns of the Huang Wildlands. Its roots trace back centuries, far preceding the reign of Emperor Hongwu and Dong himself. It’s highly plausible our enigmatic Ibilis is versed in this archaic but deadly combat style. You may all be more familiar with its descendent cousin, Tai Chi.’
‘Wait, did you just say Tai Chi?’ Ushi scoffed with disbelief. ‘Tai Chi is a meditative form! If Chung Fu is related to that, I can’t imagine it being more deadly than a lullaby and a warm glass of milk.’
‘On the contrary,’ Han interjected, ‘old Tai Chi was a deadly force, nothing like what we know it to be today. It used techniques that heightened focus and pushed the body and mind to extreme limits. When exhaustion set in, it acted as a powerful reset, overriding pain and flooding the body with adrenaline. That’s classical Tai Chi, still taught in some places. Chung Fu, its cousin, was said to be the ‘martial form that counters every other form’. It requires sacrificing ones body with cybernetic implants as it demands a capacity the natural body cannot offer. Because of this difficult requirement, masters struggled renewing newer masters. Now, it’s a dead fighting form.’
‘Boogiemen wandering in sewers, extinct martial art forms that could destroy Kowloon with the flick of a finger,’ Ushi noted out loud, ‘these are all bedtime stories we grew up with, and they all originated as South Kowlooni myths and legends. How do we know any of this is true?’
‘Because six annui-cycles ago,’ Jin interrupted, ‘on the Southern border of district Nam Bato and the Wildlands, we came up against a lone Yang combatant — just one — armed with a rough understanding of Chung Fu. He dispatched five of our strongest before making his escape, but not before he boasted about how he’d done it with such ease; Chung Fu. I’m convinced there are still one or two masters of Chung Fu out there, hidden deep in the heart of the Wildlands, imparting their knowledge to those bold enough to seek it out,’ Jin’s unmoving voice lingered in the silence, imbued with a chilling certainty. Han nodded beside him, affirming the story.
His gaze then shifted to Yutai, ‘If you struggled this much against a lone combatant — especially as an esteemed Kingmaker — it’s probable that your masked foe had similar skills in Chung Fu, perhaps higher, than the Yang I faced off against six annui-cycles ago. If I’m right, then Yutai, you have both Han’s and my respect. We’ve witnessed its raw ferocity first-hand.’
Yutai nodded in relief. So that’s his play. Chung Fu.
The room seemed to shrink around Jin’s recount of this lost martial-art form, the implications heavy in the air. Chung Fu, once a long-forgotten myth, was seemingly clawing its way back from extinction, and worst of all, it was shaping up to be a weapon for the Yang.
Keung swept his gaze around the room, eyes connecting with the gazes nailed onto him. He inhaled, steeling himself, and pressed another button on his holocommunicator
The display blinked and morphed; new information splashed across its surface like a digital mosaic. Raw brainstorming, nascent plans, and strategies were strewn across the projection in stark, incandescent lines.
Dr Chinh’s name floated around. There was mention of Chuan Wan Dam and Fort Ho Man Ting. Other peculiar names were present, such as General Denzhen, Jian, Siu-Bak, Bijun, and various members of the detachment. In the centre, all lines converged on one sentence: The Ibilis in Ho Man Ting.
Keung stood at the base of the massive board, its chaotic information dwarfing his presence and swallowing him whole, his eyes scanning the constellation of possibilities. He was not simply reviewing them; he was interrogating each strategy, challenging its worth, testing its mettle. Behind him, every Kingmaker and Tai Li did the same.
‘I have a gut feeling we can’t ignore Dr Chinh’s murder. It’s clear the dam has the Yang spooked. There’s no question that The Ibilis’ appearance at the square and the mysterious call coming from there are connected. If there is some active Yang operation going on concerning Chuan Wan Dam, our investigation might catch them with their pants down.’
A ripple of agreement stirred the air with nods. Yutai, in particular, nodded fervently, his movements articulating the strength of his approval. Blending the two investigations was a strategic stroke that increased their chances of cornering Dr Chinh’s elusive murderer.
‘Yutai and Shing, what was your next step in the murder investigation?’
‘We need to track down a Dr. Jode, a colleague and critic of Dr. Chinh’s work. She’s gone missing, and Aunt Fong wants her found,’ Yutai explained.
Keung turned to Shing. ‘Shing, you and Ushi are tasked with finding Dr. Jode and bringing her back safely,’ he instructed, catching Shing off guard.
The room’s energy shifted. ‘Not Yutai?’ Shing asked, his usual nonchalance giving way to confusion as a frown creased his brow.
Yutai also bore a frown, mirroring Shing’s puzzlement. It was an unorthodox decision, Ushi and Shing disliked each other intensely, while Yutai and Shing had the best field-synergy of the entire detachment. A palpable tension followed wherever Shing and Ushi went, while non-stop banter followed Yutai and Shing.
Moreover, the traditional partnerships within the detachment had always been Shing with Yutai, Ushi with Tao, and Keung with Cheng. The sudden switch was akin to altering the steps in a well-choreographed dance. Yutai wondered if this disruption would negatively impact their respective performances.
‘You two need to learn to work together,’ Keung began, his tone serious. ‘We’re entering a phase where collaboration is key, even with those we may not fully trust or like. We’ve grown too comfortable working in isolation, but that has to change. We have new leads that might require us to work closely with the Tien Tao Rioters…’
‘Yeah, fuck that,’ Shing cut Keung off with a scoff, dismissing the idea outright. His chair creaked as he leaned back, the air around him bristling nonchalant defiance, ‘First the Tai Li and now the Tien Tao; count me out of any operation with those shehs.’‘Keung,’ Yutai added cautiously. ‘We can’t trust the Tien Tao. Did you forget how they acted that night in Ho Man Ting?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ushi called out incredulously, ‘Are we seriously suggesting they’ve gone rogue?’
‘That’s exactly what he’s implying, genius,’ Shing spat out.
Ushi shook his head in disbelief. ‘Not the Tien Tao. They’re one of the most seasoned special ops unit in Kowloon. They’d never fall to corruption.’ Ushi countered, voicing his unwavering support for the unit he looked up to with an almost reverential admiration.
‘What if the Tien Tao haven’t gone rogue, but the top-level Ho Man Ting government they serve?’ Yutai shot back. Ushi turned back to face Yutai and frowned as he listened. ‘You saw what happened with them. Their suspicious delay to the square provided The Ibilis enough time to conclude his speech. And his escape? The Ibilis slipped right through their fingers. Are these really the legendary Southern Rioters we’ve heard of, bumbling and floundering in such a way?’ Yutai folded his arms and regarded the rest of the team. A murmur of agreement, the low hum of ‘hmms’ rippled through the room, echoing the shared unease and suspicion that were slowly taking hold.
‘So, what do we do, interrogate every Rioter till someone gives?’ Ushi’s question rang out, sharp against the biting accusations of betrayal.
‘Better that than allow them to get close to you,’ Jin Puyahu retorted, his voice floating down from the back of the room.
‘Shame! Shame on us all!’ Ushi’s voice surged with indignation as he looked at everyone one by one, the air around him crackling with his fervour, ‘To even think of levelling such vicious charges against our allies! This should be a last resort theory, not the first dart we throw in the face of uncertainty!’
‘I agree,’ Tao added. ‘It’s only been 25 annui-cycles since we painfully brokered peace with the South. This accusation could unravel everything we’ve worked for.’
Yutai knew Ushi was being irrationally defensive of the Tien Tao, but he understood why. Ushi was a Southerner, just like the Tien Tao. Accusing Southerners of being difficult to trust carried much more weight than if the accusation had been against anyone else. They were already stereotyped as dishonest and conniving, so such an accusation had a unique context to it.
‘I understand all these concerns,’ Keung began, his tone solemn and measured. ‘And Yutai, you’re correct, we do have our reasons for pulling them into the fold. Yesterday, General Denzhen had a long conversation with Warlord Xinjian, the Lord of Ho Man Ting. Xinjian insisted on his innocence, attributing the failures of the Rioters that night to a lack of discipline. He has offered to share vital information to aid in the capture of The Ibilis. The General thought this is a good idea to gauge their loyalties up close. This is a direct order from the General, and I don’t have any issue with it.’
‘No issues?’ Jin asked again, unwilling to let this go. ‘Do you seriously believe Lord Xinjian doesn’t have his own vested interests in weaving his Rioters into Kingmaker operations?’
‘Oh, the irony…you, of all people, questioning the inclusion of outsiders…’ Shing snarked.
‘Keung, we urge you to reconsider this,’ Han pleaded. ‘Our independent investigations have led us to believe us that Ho Man Ting has been compromised for a while now. Perhaps even since the rebellions.’
Keung’s fingers grazed the surface of his holocommunicator, causing the next slide to appear on the screen. He broke the uneasy silence. ‘I understand your worries, but this, brothers, is the most sensible course we have. The Generals insist on tangible proof of treachery before we take measures against Ho Man Ting.’‘But —’ Yutai began, his protest cut short as Cheng’s voice echoed throughout the room, dousing the spark of defiance.
‘You three fail to grasp the full implication of accepting the possibility that the Tien Tao have indeed allied with the Yang. Our only option would be a full-on Royal Regicide. Do any of you comprehend the catastrophic fallout Kowloon will suffer if we do decide to go down that road? If we are to fully commit, we must have the evidence to back up the conviction.’
That was enough to shut them up. All three knew exactly what a Royal Regicide was and what it meant — the original, sole purpose of the Kingmakers. The last regicide is said to have been the catalyst for the bloody District Rebellions. This situation was fraught with potential consequences none had fully considered.
Finally, Keung turned to face the display board, which contained names from the room divided into two distinct teams.
Shing and Ushi made up one, tagged with the assignment, ‘Locate Dr Jode.’ The second group, an ensemble of Keung, Cheng, Han, Jin and two unrecognisable names, were tasked with an objective labelled ‘Follow Yang Lead.’
‘Shing, Ushi,’ Keung’s voice was firm and direct. ‘You need to work on collaborating effectively. Your task is clear, so focus on combining your strengths.’ Ushi gave a slow, thoughtful nod, while Shing barely acknowledged Keung, his indifference obvious.
‘Who are they?’ Tao inquired, pointing to the duo of unfamiliar names in the second team.
‘Probably Tien Tao scum,’ Jin spat, distaste curling his words. The names sounded strikingly Southern to Jin — Tuwan Nwin and Chan Ng. Names that you wouldn’t find anywhere else.
Keung nodded, affirming they were the names of three Rioters, but then Yutai raised his arm. ‘Why aren’t Tao and I on the board?’
Tao’s eyes flickered to the board, his usually impassive face reflecting a hint of surprise at Yutai’s omission. He had noticed his name missing, but to see Yutai’s gone too was a surprise.
Keung raised his hand, placating the simmering discontentment. ‘You both are reserved for the time being,’ he explained. ‘These are the opening moves of our chess game; the board is still being set, so our movements will be limited until we discern the optimal strategy. Too many unknowns right now.’
‘What? But there must be something I can contribute to,’ Yutai protested, his voice rising in frustration, only to be silenced by Cheng’s firm voice rebuking him.
‘Yutai, if Keung thinks this is the best way forward, then so be it. We aren’t in the business of thinking outside the box, we follow orders.’
That shut Yutai up. He slumped back in his seat, his body language a wordless mirror of his chagrin, while Tao seemed as unperturbed as ever, his serene demeanour unbroken by his exclusion.
Despite the harsh criticisms of his plan, Keung resolved to see it through.
‘Now, I’ll briefly outline ours plans. Mr Enji has generously shared the location of an abandoned Yang base his Rioters recently seized. With the Tai Li, Cheng and I will meet up with two Tien Tao Rioter contacts in Ho Man Ting. With their help, we’ll secure the base and see what we can find. Leads will be uploaded to our shared channel on the holocommunicator. Han, Jin, I’ll need to speak with you afterwards about getting you on that channel. We have 100-cycles to dismantle the Yang from the top down, and it starts with finding The Ibilis. We have a wealth of resources at our disposal to bring them all down.’Shing dramatically yawned, momentarily breaking Keung’s flow.
‘Pay attention, sewer dog,’ Ushi exclaimed aggressively from the side, annoyed by Shing’s constant immaturity. Keung merely paused, allowing the room to settle into silence before continuing with his strategy.