The King Rail hurtled through the dark tunnel, streaks of light from outside the windows occasionally illuminating Yutai and Shing as they sat perched on opposing seats, each lost in their own thoughts. Yutai looked up at Shing. His hair was short combed forward, his small fringe neatly across his forehead. He had his classic laid back look, as if he did not care about anything right now.
‘Do you know what project is being approved in Kam Shan, Shing?’
Yutai’s question echoed through the rumbling drone of the monorail, his tone casual.
In response, Shing flashed a mischievous grin, his beady eyes glinting under the artificial glow. ‘Obviously something to do with the only thing that stops people from forgetting about Kam Shan. Something to do with their algae farms, most likely. Probably another Zhaisheng thing.’
‘The general did mention a farm… First the banks in the Core, then the hospitals around the North, now the vast farms of the West. Kowloon’s getting a make-over. Makes you wonder what’s next.’
Shing stretched his arms across the tops of the empty seats beside him. ‘If the Emperor is smart, then what’s next is ignoring Keung and resuming the Cybernetic Enhancement Program. The Emperor’s gonna need stronger Kingmakers since it’ll be a while till our numbers recover from the war. I’d love me a pair of adrenal-pumps.’
Yutai quickly remembered what Shing was referring to: the Cybernetic Enhancement Program from last annui-cycle, aimed at equipping top Kingmakers with advanced cybernetic implants. Keung, as a high-ranked lieutenant, was eligible, but with his father’s encouragement, opted for less invasive enhancements—adrenal pumps near his kidneys and a cybernetic Eye equipped with advanced information retrieval capabilities.
However, the program sparked controversy among traditionalist political factions within the tower, notably due to religious objections against implants that weren’t a medical necessity. The situation escalated when another Lieutenant Kingmaker suffered a wholly new affliction, machine-psychosis, after a radical operation to digitise his nervous system. Permanent brain damage forced an early retirement for the unfortunate King, and it drove Keung to vehemently oppose the program to Denzhen, leading to its cancellation and barring participants from further enhancements. Consequently, the infamous nephew of the Emperor became the reluctant face of the program’s opposition. Some praised him for it, yet many hate him more.
Yutai kept his mouth shut and decided to change the topic.
‘Know anything about Tong that might be useful to us?’
His question was met with a lecherous smile from Shing, ‘Tong used to be a real looker back in the day. Apparently, she’s even prettier now. Shit, I wouldn’t mind a night with her.’
Yutai scrunched his face in disgust. ‘Isn’t she pushing 100?’
‘But my dear Yutai, that’s the appeal. She’s probably been pumped with some aging preservatives. She doesn’t look 100, and that’s the whole point. Imagine a woman who looks barely 40 but has centuries’ worth of experience. I’d fuck her silly. You seriously wouldn’t?’
‘Cut that shit out, Shing. Something serious is going on between her and the general, and you’re out here talking about waving your dick to her!’
Shing chuckled, ‘Relax, I wasn’t being serious. Besides, I’m sure she has some daughters around we cou —’
‘Shut it, let’s talk about what’s at hand. Have you ever been to Kam Shan? What’s her gang called?’
‘Never been, but I think Tong’s boys are called the Kam Shan Black Jackets, or just Black Jackets for short. She heads a collection of different gangs since Kam Shan is so massive. They all have a small slice of the Kam Shan pie, and she decides which gang gets which piece.’
‘Sounds like she’s playing Kingmaker in her own corner of the world. Kam Shan is her little Kowloon, and she decides who rules which area, just like our Emperor,’ Yutai wondered out loud.
‘A cheap imitation at best,’ Shing shrugged. ‘We protect Kowloon, they guard green goo until it’s good to eat. And don’t get me started on that shitty West Kowlooni accent.’ Shing gave his own rendition of a thick western accent and twirled his hand. ‘How do you do? O sire, how do you do!’ Yutai laughed at the caricature of the accent.
‘Well, a single woman running multiple districts has to mean something,’ Yutai said. ‘Kam Shan is the largest district in all of Kowloon, right? I’ve never heard of anyone having authority over separate gangs, each with their own turf in a single district.’
Suddenly, the monorail came to a grating halt, causing the duo to sway slightly in their seats.
‘Okay, let’s get our maps out and head to Tong,’ Yutai said, standing up and leading the way. They stepped out of the monorail, its door sliding shut behind them as it departed, presumably summoned by another King elsewhere. The pair exited the docking room and found the door leading to a small courtyard. The buzz of a food court was fading into the sleeping hours of Kowloon. The door, fixed to a wall, appeared to be a side entrance to a food stall—one of the many ways the docking ports of the King Rail are disguised throughout Kowloon’s sixty-six districts.
Through one of the sides of the food court was a massive open gate into another groundscraper. Both Kingmakers, their large rifles and automatic weapons casually slung over their backs, walked side by side across the near-empty food court and into the groundscraper through the gate. Shing entered Tong’s address on his holocommunicator and a red line appeared, weaving through the groundscraper and spiralling all the way down to the ground floor.
‘Well, would you look at that.’ Yutai said, leaning over and looking at Shing’s map hovering over his wrist. ‘That’s the bloody ground. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a Lord having their headquarters in Old Kowloon’
‘I hate going down there,’ Shing grunted. Yutai knew how much he detested the claustrophobic ambience of Old Kowloon, the lowest and most ancient layers of of their world.
The streets were sparse as people were heading back home after running their final errands. Most shops were closed with metal shutters sealing them tight, but some night-stalls remained open, playing soft music to help the shopkeepers stay awake.
Entering a narrow corridor and descending a few more steps, their holographic map led them to an antique lift. Summoning it from a higher floor, it opened with a ding and they stepped inside. The lift swayed every so slightly with their weight. Yutai pressed the lowest button on the walls catalogue of floors, a moth-eaten number zero. The lights flickered, and the lift jolted to life with a hum as it descended at a glacial pace.
Lifts were as common as the groundscrapers themselves in Kowloon; however, many were old and hadn’t been upgraded in many centuries, and Yutai guessed such was the case with the lift they were currently inside. The two Kings stood to attention in the elevator, staring ahead at the closed doors.
Yutai cleared his throat. ‘So, Shing. Were you planning on flirting with Tong?’
Shing looked at him with cheeky curiosity. ‘Oh, so now we want to talk about it?’
‘I’d prefer to be prepared for any second-hand embarrassment, that’s all.’ Yutai let out a restrained smile as he clocked the level on the counter.
61, 60, 59…
‘Well, I wasn’t planning on holding back my charms. I’ll see how it goes, maybe give her a gentleman’s kiss on the hand, maybe ask what she’s doing tomorrow night,’ Shing twinkled.
‘Well, isn’t that just fantastic,’ Yutai said distractedly.
Shing turned to look at Yutai. ‘Wait, I feel you’re not telling me something.’
‘Yeah, I just remembered about Tong’s eldest son…’
Shing raised his brow ever so slightly.
‘…What, you didn’t know? The beast of Kam Shan, Shou Feng? Iridium-Fisted Terror?’
Shing looked unconvinced. ‘Iridium-Fist my ass. That’s a myth, I know it.’
Yutai grinned even wider, barely holding in a laugh. ‘Nope, Shou Feng, that’s him alright. It just dawned on me why Tong’s name sounded so familiar. It’s because she’s the mother of the Iridium-Fisted Terror, Shou Feng. You know how the story goes, yeah? Lung Hai gangsters from Tei Lung show up on Kam Shan’s border, refusing to leave. Tong sends her only son to deal with them, with nothing but a pistol as his weapon. He comes back with both hands completely smashed and broken, while not a single bullet was fired from his gun. Want to know why?’
‘Well, obviously you want me to think he bashed every Lung Hai gangster’s heads in?’ A bead of sweat ran down Shing’s forehead.
Yutai continued. ‘Well yeah, but he went beyond shoving the Lung Hai’s off Tong’s land. After they ran back into their district, he pursued them into Tei Lung until he was merely two-hundred kilometres away from the capital. Many Lung Hai gangsters lost their lives to nothing but brutal punches. Some say Tong had ordered him to cut his way into Tei Lung territory to send a message; others believe he just went into a mindless frenzy and didn’t stop until he physically couldn’t move his arms. And that’s how he broke almost every bone in his hands.’
‘Wait…is that how Shou got his…’
Shing stood there as if the ending to his sentence had been sucked right out of his mouth.
Yutai continued with a smirk. ‘Yep. Apparently, they fixed his hands by carefully aligning all his shattered bones together and then encasing them in pure Iridium. After the Iridium hands, he’s been known to kill people with a single blow if he doesn’t pull his punches. That’s how Shou Feng became the Iridium-Fisted Terror.’
Shing cracked his neck. ‘Perhaps I’ll flirt with Tong another day.’
10, 9, 8…
Yutai smiled. ‘Who knows, from what you said it sounds like she’ll outlive her son. Maybe you can take your chances with her then.’
Shing mumbled under his breath, ‘Brother, I bloody hate you.’
6, 5, 4…
Yutai held his smile as the lift neared the lower floors of Kowloon. It began to slowly make screeching sounds, signalling its infrequent use down this deep.
‘I know brother, I know,’ Yutai said proudly under his breath.
Shing shook his head, closed his eyes and chuckled.
3, 2, 1, 0…
‘Looks like we’re here, Shing. Let’s get into character.’
Ding.
****
Undaunted by the infamous siblings’ piercing gaze, General Denzhen held his ground. His cap, rarely seen atop his head, hung from the belt of his verdant trench coat. His curly hair, slick with sweat, spoke of a tiresome journey. The lift for this part of the groundscraper only ascended to the 32nd floor; the Luen headquarters beckoned six more strenuous levels above, accessible only via the stairs. Each step left Denzhen cursing the Luen’s under his breath.
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The siblings stood on a short dais a step above the rest, commanding the central room of their headquarters. It also doubled as a games room, its air heavy with scented smoke and the rustle of playing cards. Classical central Kowlooni melodies hummed softly from small speakers littered around the room. Gangsters lounged, some casting sidelong glances at the general, while others scornfully ignored his presence, engrossed in their games or puffing away on their pipes.
The room was a marvel of classical design — vases standing tall, rich tapestries adorning the walls, and opulent curtains. Spotlights studded in the ceiling, shining their brilliance over the vibrant orange walls and the off-white stone-tiled floor to create a mesmerising interplay of light and shadow.
‘One of the legendary Dragons of Yu graces us humble Ji Sia’s with his presence; to what do we owe this pleasure, General Denzhen?’ rang out the sardonic voice of Lok Luen, Lord of District Yau, and renowned leader of the Ji Sia gangs, colloquially known as the Luen boys. Lok Luen, the elder brother of Ying Luen, was regarded as the head of the Luen family. He represented District Yau at major meetings, was the spokesperson for interviews and speeches, and most importantly, his imposing stern figure could keep everyone in check. But behind the scenes, Ying was the one who people really should have feared.
Denzhen knew that all too well.
Lok Luen was indeed a dominant presence. He wore a Kevlar vest over a skin-tight, long-sleeve compression shirt with white and grey camouflage print, black cargo pants and pristine white boots. The muscles of his arms bulged, showing years of gym training. He had long, dreaded hair, its voluminous shape dropping almost to his ankles behind him, with a few bundles of dreads vibrantly dyed.
Beside Lok stood Ying Luen, her arms crossed, with an outfit almost identical to her brothers, save for her dark green boots. Her hair was dyed a lighter green, its left side shaven and covered in laser-etched tattoo designs. They both wore their vests proudly — the Luen Kevlar, a gift from the Yaozhi dynasty to the Luen family upon their ascension to Lordship many generations ago.
‘I am here to apologise on behalf of Truong, Gonjjuo, Joshu, and Keung,’ General Denzhen stated, his voice a rumble of authority, yet his posture one of humility.
Ying acknowledged the names with a nod. ‘It’s intriguing your own son is entwined in this debacle. Hasn’t been easy for us to digest our sentiments.’
Her tone made it clear that her feelings were mixed, whereas Lok’s was far more unforgiving, deliberate and blunt.
‘Jian was owed to us,’ Lok’s gaze bore into the General’s, his voice simmering with raw intensity. ‘Jian was killed in our country, with intel and support provided by our men. The Yangs have claimed the lives of hundreds within our ranks, with many more joining them outright. Thousands more of our citizens have been injured or killed directly or indirectly because of their actions, and I’m not even counting the Yau Bombings from last cycle, the deadliest organised terror attack Kowloon has ever seen! We have suffered the most, all because of our close proximity to you!’
The room grew silent as the room listened to Lok’s frustrated speech.
‘When the south rose up against you twenty-five cycles ago, we were first to respond to the Kingmakers’ call for aid. Our father was one of the few that remained by Yu’s side till the end, we pledged everything we had. And yet, we are assured no help from you. With Jian’s body, we had a chance to show our strength against our enemies, but instead, we faced one final humiliation, and even that at the hands of our closest ally. How does that make us look, General? Weak! We feel embarrassed, humiliated!’ Lok thundered, his strong words a testament to his pent-up anger. At its end, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Ying placed her hand on her brother’s arm in an obviously placatory gesture.
General Denzhen bowed his head in acknowledgment, his expression clouded with shame. He remained in that position for a full minute before lifting his gaze to meet theirs once more.
As the tension in the room tightened like a taut bowstring, General Denzhen spoke with a rasp. ‘I assure you, Lok, weakness is not a trait associated with the Ji Sia. Your loyalty to us and to the Kingmakers has never been questioned, and unrelenting fortitude defines your people. Nevertheless, it is evident that our efforts to maintain harmony have come at a high price.’
The general could almost hear the cogs of Lok’s mind turning, sensing the collective anticipation of the room as the leader of the Ji Sia gang pursed his lips and turned to his sister. Denzhen continued, ‘I didn’t journey here to justify the misdeeds of those three men, nor my son for that fact, but to make amends. To bridge the divide their indiscretions have caused. If it clears up any misunderstanding, I assure you all four individuals were acting of their own volition and not on any Kingmaker order, official or otherwise.’
Lok frowned, while Ying nodded slowly in a new understanding, leaning in to whisper something to her brother. A murmur rippled through the room, the weight of the general’s words sinking in; these were the actions of four rogues, and no more. Denzhen realised the assumption that the four had been acting on Emperor Puyin’s orders had been stronger than he’d thought, which explained the vitriol the siblings held towards the general.
‘Whatever the reality may be, we Kingmakers bears the burden of their actions. For their shortcomings, the Emperor extends his most sincere apologies. Allow me to personally apologise for the behaviour of my son as well. I recognise the tribulations you’ve been facing, especially after… the bombings of last annui-cycle. But I assure you this situation has cost us much more than you may think. My son’s actions, and that of the three other Kingmakers, have created difficulties for us, consequences that demand secrecy. I feel it is only fair that you are privy to the realities we have faced since that night.’
‘Oh?’ Ying said, raising an eyebrow. While Ying appeared intrigued by what Denzhen was about to reveal, Lok slowly scrunched his face into a scowl, a fuse sizzling towards detonation. ‘Difficulties for the Kings?’ Lok said, disbelief evident. ‘And how exactly have you become victims of a situation that your own people have perpetrated?’‘What I’m about to share must remain strictly confidential, I can’t stress that enough…’ Denzhen began, his voice dwindling to a murmur, wishing to evict the spectators lingering on the fringes of the room but unwilling to pressure the siblings to grant his request.
Ying, however, with her keen social intuitions, recognised the subtle hesitation.
Raising a hand to silence the General, she inhaled sharply and said in a commanding voice, ‘Everyone, out!’ Instantly, the classical central Kowlooni music ceased, the occupants rose, and the room emptied, leaving only the Luen siblings, the general, and the faint aroma of scented smoke lingering in the air.
‘Apologies, General. We take secrets quite seriously. Please, proceed.’
Denzhen appreciated the thoughtfulness of the siblings, his hard expression softening with gratitude towards Ying.
‘Thank you, Ying. The unfortunate truth is, there was a violent altercation among the four, and one has since passed. Just a few hours ago. We’ve attempted to hide this, but Light knows for how long it’ll remain under wraps.’
Lok sucked in an audible breath and started pacing back and forth, now deep in thought. However, realisation dawned on Ying’s face.
‘Was it your son, General?’ Ying enquired cautiously, genuine concern in her voice.
‘Fortunately, no. It was Truong, another one of the Kingmakers involved. As you’re aware, we’ve derived no gains from this incident, only endured losses. Therefore, I plead for your understanding of our predicament, for the benefit of our districts.’
‘This doesn’t bode well for you Kingmakers; there will be whispering in the streets if people find out a King has died. The Yangs would use this news to further threaten the balance of authority.’ Lok’s voice echoed through the room as he continued pacing, reminding them all of the grim possibility of what might be ahead.
‘Nevertheless, the incident that transpired was highly regrettable and should never have happened,’ Denzhen reiterated. ‘The remaining culprits will face due justice. But we must tread lightly to ensure no political disarray festers between our districts or ourselves.’
Lok abruptly halted his pacing, the tone of his voice communicating the depths of his frustration.
‘Justice? The Emperor has a track record of letting the Kings do whatever they want. Any ‘justice’ after is usually nothing more than a slap on the wrist.’
Ying, her hand resting on her hip, conveyed her agreement with a simple nod, her proud gaze riveted on her brother.
Lok continued, his nostrils flaring. ‘And that’s assuming the district is even deemed important enough! I suppose we’re lucky to have that status, aye general? To have the Kingmakers ask for forgiveness, let alone have a great Dragon here in person, makes us wonder how much is actually at stake here. Not that it matters; no district in Kowloon has any real bargaining powers over the Kings and the Emperor. And if we become too much of a hassle for what we’re worth, then we are replaced with a more… cooperative leadership, isn’t that right, general? A Royal Regicide, just how we Luens assumed the leadership of Yau eight generations ago. So, who are we but usurpers of a rule that stopped appeasing the Yaozhi’s? When do we begin to worry about usurpers after us? Clearly, our options are limited; we can only hope a benevolent ear in Yu listens to our grievances.’
‘You are heard, Lok and Ying,’ the General replied, his voice earnest. ‘But we can offer nothing more than profound apologies. If you wish to know how we intend to discipline the offenders, I assume it will involve detention and beatings, with a repeat of mandatory Kingmaker conditioning.’
Upon hearing this, the siblings raised their eyebrows in tandem. ‘Does this extend to your son, Keung?’ Lok probed.
General Denzhen forced himself to remain impassive as he responded, ‘No, Lok. He was beaten severely by the surviving two members during the altercation. I am unaware of the extent of the beating, but I do know he is currently confined to bed rest, an indication that the assault was far beyond our standard punishments. That alone is far more than what he deserved for his crime. It’s clear Keung has suffered more than any official discipline would have dealt.’
While it was true that General Denzhen felt no need to sanction someone who had already paid their dues, he would never allow his son to be beaten as a form of discipline by anyone, irrespective of the circumstances. He was merely lucky that a convenient excuse had presented itself.
‘I see.’ Ying said after some silence. ‘Then there isn’t much else to say. I imagine the Yangs will go back to harassing us as soon as they recover from their own losses, and we will just have to cope.’
Pity welled up within the general as he realised he had nothing more to offer.
‘However,’ Denzhen said as he locked eyes with Ying, ‘Jian’s death may serve as a stark warning to the rest of Kowloon that the Yangs are not invincible. I wager they will tread more carefully around Yau, knowing full well just how serious Jian’s loss was.’
‘We would also like to take part in this ‘wager’, General,’ Ying responded. ‘However, these are the lives of our brothers and sisters and we can’t treat this threat with such flippancy. Perhaps it is easier to make wagers from the fortified heights of Kowloon’s grandest tower, but we can’t afford to drop our guard on mere presumptions. For now, we need to increase our street presence and ensure the Yangs don’t misconstrue this embarrassing situation as a sign of opportunity.’
‘I am sorry,’ the general said. ‘I don’t mean to sound as though I am making light of your plight. The Yangs have been Kowloon’s primary threat since the Yau Bombings. Rest assured, we will not stop pursuing them. The hideout Keung and his team found Jian was a trove of leads, and we may have new information on The Ibilis. Their days are numbered.’
‘Shit, The Ibilis?’ Ying’s eyes ignited with fresh resolve. ‘Then we make one request,’ she asked as the rising tempo of her voice reflected her eagerness. ‘Share intel with our special investigations team, let them come on board with the Kingmakers hunting the Yang. Let them help you help us.’
The general’s brows knitted together as he gently shook his head. ‘That’s asking a great deal. Our operations have always been confidential to all outsiders. This approach has never failed us.’
‘Except it has,’ Lok countered firmly. ‘You’ve failed to rein in the ghosts of the rebellions, a war that was quelled over twenty-five annui-cycles ago. We are owed knowledge of this investigation as we bear the brunt of their actions. Don’t be unreasonable, general; we aren’t asking to be made Emperor. This is the most obvious solution that can only aid us both.’
‘Yes, you may as well be asking to be made Emperor. We cannot afford any vulnerabilities and the Jia Sia is the largest gangster organisation in all of Kowloon, making it ripe for leaks. Our stable operations as the Kingmakers of Kowloon are crucial for maintaining Kowloon’s balance. Our desire for secrecy isn’t mere caprice but a necessity for everyone’s survival.’
Ying fired back with a hint of sass, ‘Must I remind you how seriously we take secrets? Yes, our numbers are vast, but did we not mention that only our special investigative team would be the collaborators? Not a single soul in our gang is privy to what happens within their operations except for the team themselves, and I. Even Lok doesn’t know the intricacies of our dealings.’
Lok nodded, affirming Ying’s claim.
‘And who is this team, Ying?’
‘Surely you have heard of our Tai Li squad?’
The mention of the Tai Li sent the General’s thoughts back to the devastating bombings last cycle. An emergency had pulled the Tai Li south, where Yang militants had kidnapped the son of Lord Kuangyin, leader of district Kai Tak. With the Tai Li away to help, one of its major precincts became vulnerable, leading in a deadly suicide-attack that killed tens of thousands: the tragic Yau Bombings. It was the first attack of its kind, an assault on Kowloon that was incomprehensible until it unfolded before everyone’s eyes.
Everyone knew why the Yang had to employ such deceptive tactics; had the Tai Li been present, perhaps the bombings would have never happened. Until that point, many had dared to compare their new and rising accolades to established Kingmaker excellence. Yet, this gross failure of the Tai Li had led to their presumed disbandment.
But apparently not, Denzhen wondered to himself. Their proven competence would not have been enough for the general to allow them into Kingmaker operations, but if the world still believed the Tai Li were disbanded, it may not be as bad.
‘I thought you two abandoned that project. Why are they still active? Perhaps it’s best I not know,’ the general sighed. ‘So be it. I’ll contact the team investigating the Yangs and let them know they will be collaborating with the Tai Li. However, keep in mind that this is not a cooperative group project; the investigation will remain on our terms, and the knowledge shared as well. Tell your Tai Li not to expect camaraderie. Any information the Tai Li uncover themselves must be disclosed to the Kings working alongside them. Are my conditions clear?’ The general was firm and uncompromising on this serious matter. He saw it as a genuinely advantageous relationship for both sides, rather than a pity deal.
The siblings looked at each other, and Ying subtly to Lok. Finally, Lok turned back to the general. ‘It appears we’re left with no other choice.’
‘If you accept the terms, along with the Emperor’s apologies and my personal one, then I will take my leave. I have to go and see my son.’
‘Of course, general,’ the siblings echoed simultaneously, after which the Denzhen made his dignified departure.