Ushi and Tao sat in a booth at a pub in District Yau, casually enjoying their drinks. Ushi took a sip of his fruit-infused alcoholic drink and exhaled in satisfaction after the carbonated fizz hit the back of his throat. Across the table, Tao regarded him with a question hanging in the air.
‘Any news from Ji Sia?’
Ushi’s brows knit together slightly, the incident with Keung casting a shadow over his relaxed demeanour. ‘Not really, brother. Only that Keung’s actions have caused trouble for us all. But hopefully, the Luen siblings will be forgiving. Oh, I have heard of some troubles stirring in the industrial estates of Yau. The unemployed giving people grief.’
Tao discharged a weary sigh through his nostrils, shaking his head. ‘Yeah, I heard of that too. The Zhaisheng has brought along robots on some of the production lines in Yau factories. Productivity is like nothing before, apparently. But almost every single labourer was made redundant because of those robots.’
Ushi’s laughter echoed through their booth. ‘And who is going to fix those robots now? More robots?’
Tao chuckled as well, but his smile was clearly strained with worry.
With a nonchalant lean, Tao lifted his own glass for a leisurely sip, his gaze drifting beyond their private booth, where the rest of the pub buzzed with energy. The bar, illuminated with pink neon lights from under the edge of the long table, was full. High stools, filled with patrons in varying states of exhaustion, energy, and conviviality, jostled for space along the bustling bar. At the epicentre of it all, the bartender stood, deep in conversation with a pair of customers, their shared laughter adding another layer to the vibrant symphony of pub life.
‘Haoyu probably knows more about what’s happening,’ Tao suggested, glancing at Ushi. ‘You know bartenders…they’re therapists for the drunk and lost. Big ears and bigger secrets. Seems like half the working-class men of Yau spill their guts over a pint or two here now. Go ask him.’
Ushi looked at the stocky bartender. An irrational sense of unease always fluttered in his gut when he saw Haoyu’s left arm, a robotic prosthetic. The metallic limb itself wasn’t the issue, but the exposed web of wires and the raw hydraulics were unsettling, Haoyu caring little for aesthetic and more for function. Ushi was familiar with the prosthesis model, it was supposed to be encased in sleek metal plates, providing an illusion of muscle and skin, but Haoyu’s indifference for maintenance made it resemble more buzzsaw than arm.
‘Nah, looks like he’s tied up,’ Ushi dismissed, shrugging his shoulders.
The Crescent was Ushi’s escape, a hidden gem among bars of questionable quality. And Ushi shared it with no one but his best friend, Tao.
But their secluded refuge lost its charm when Tao, with his unchecked enthusiasm, spilled the secret to Yutai. From Yutai to Shing, Shing to some tribunes, and from them to the young, sparkly-eyed Centurions. The word spread through the tower until it culminating in a massive party thrown by Yutai last annui-cycle, an open-invite for all Kingmakers.
Unceremoniously, their undiscovered gem became the go-to place for every Kingmaker looking to unwind. To Ushi, it felt like his secret sanctuary had been desecrated. The silver lining was perhaps only for Haoyu, the bartender, who had seen a welcome surge in business to wealthy and extravagant Kingmakers.
Tao sighed, ‘Anyways, I hope we get more downtime soon. Feels like we’ve been on an endless loop with no break. Most of our team still feel like strangers to me and it’s been an entire annui-cycle since we were put together. Feels like it was just yesterday when General Denzhen called us together for the first time. I remember how sceptical you were of the team. So what do you think of our team now, brother?’
Tao kept his voice low as any conversation related to Kingmaker business was best kept confidential.
‘What do I think of them?’ Ushi’s deep voice echoed the question as he pondered on it. He sat there, a monolith of a man in his dark shirt, straining at the seams as he leaned back in the booth, his brawny shoulders nearly spanning the width of the two-seater.
‘Shing just can’t let go of his grudge against Keung,’ Ushi said, sounding both annoyed and resigned. ‘I get it, we all have our issues with Keung. Teasing him was fun back in the academy, but we’ve moved on. Shing should do the same and just ignore him like the rest of us. When I heard about what Keung did to Jian, and him killing that poor centurion, I knew dwelling on it would only make me angrier. So, I let it go. No need to stir things up; Keung will either grow up or he won’t, but the world will move on.’
He paused, then his features softened slightly. ‘But Cheng…I have nothing but respect for him. Despite Keung being our leader on paper, Cheng is the one who really holds the reins; he keeps us together. It won’t be long until he becomes lieutenant. As a matter of fact, I see the workings of a Dragon within him.’
Tao nodded and stayed silent for a moment, absorbing the atmosphere and shifting in his booth seat. ‘Our team’s full of good people, I reckon. I never understood why everyone dislikes Keung just because General Denzhen gave him everything. Sure, he didn’t have to fight for it as anyone else might have, but he’s a Yaozhi. And if people have issues with privileged Yaozhi’s, they’d also have issues with Yaozhi Puyin being Emperor. People forget the title of Emperor is granted through inheritance, too. Like a sort of guaranteed nepotism. Prince Tsai is arguably a bigger nepotist than Keung, but for some reason, his advantage is normal. So why’s it different with Keung?’
‘I don’t know, Tao…it just is. Kowloon has acknowledged the Yaozhi’s lead us. It’s a role they’ve held for almost a thousand annui-cycles.’
‘So, by your logic, if Keung was dropped out of his lieutenant rank and elevated to the status of Emperor, he would somehow be less of a nepotist?’
‘No, of course not. But again, it’s just different. Emperor Puyin has kept the peace in Kowloon. Emperor Guangxu may have worsened our relationship with the south and east, but he still knew how to run Kowloon. The same goes for every Yaozhi ancestor. They’ve had their ups and downs, but Kowloon is far from collapsing. Maybe Keung’s real calling is to be on the throne. Maybe it isn’t. But the Yaozhi’s have never had a calling to be a Kingmaker anymore than anyone else. You still need specific training for that. General Denzhen did not become lieutenant until he was 43. If fairness existed in the tower, Keung would be stripped back down to Centurion rank. And don’t get me started on Shing; Keung may be a bad Kingmaker, but Shing’s a bad person! He creates friction within our team and bats his mouth saying the filthiest shit. Have you even been on an assignment with him?’
‘Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,’ Tao replied dryly.
‘Flagrant catcalling, shouting slurs in public, provoking fights, pulling violent pranks. He’s bigoted scum. And I can’t even figure out if he’s attracted to women, or if he hates them…but I started hating him long before I found out about all that.
Tao leaned in, curious to hear why Ushi disliked him.
‘Remember back during Operation Searchlight? A few menses-cycles before the Yau bombings?’ Ushi asked.
Tao nodded. To Ushi, the memory of Operation Searchlight was still a painful scar. Last annui-cycle, with Yang presence growing alarmingly fast in Yau, the Luen siblings sought Kingmaker assistance to curb the threat. In response, the Kingmakers placed the entire Southern diaspora in Yau under suspicion. Mass arrests followed, sparking fierce resistance among the Southerners.
This was a dark chapter in Ushi’s life, forced by orders to subdue his own people working around district Yau.
‘All that fucked up shit leading up to the Yau Bombings, how could I forget,’ Tao said with sigh. ‘We were doing many depraved things in an attempt to curb the spread of Yang. Why do you ask?’
‘It’s only a rumour. But I heard Shing’s team were among the more overzealous of the lot. They made sure to have their fun while making their arrests. Hundreds of the arrested women claimed to be…desecrated by the Ji Sia. One team had been pointed to by at least ten separate groups of women; a squad of Ji Sia’s, overseen by a Kingmaker who carried an oversized sniper rifle.’
Ushi’s implication drew immediate disgust onto Tao’s face. ‘I can’t believe it. Are you saying they were raping them?’
‘You know what history has regarded my southern sisters as during times of conflict?’
Tao nodded in shame. ‘That southern women are the best spoils of war in Kowloon. They provide the most comfort,’ Tao’s voice dipped as he barely verbalised this fact of reality. ‘Then I wouldn’t be surprised they got away with it easily. Those southern workers around Yau were undocumented, the local law would not be on their side. But was Shing really part of this? I can see him being a bigot, but I never pegged him for a monster.’
‘Whether or not Shing participated personally, he certainly knew what his Ji Sia subordinates were up to. Ultimately, that’s why the Yang felt it necessary to retaliate. If we had a few less Shing’s during the operation, maybe the Yau bombing wouldn’t have happened. And Yutai, his so-called best friend, he’s no better. I know for a fact he cringes whenever Shing says or does something stupid. But what’s worse is that he never confronts him about it. He enables that shit. Yutai is a pushover, will do anything to prevent conflict. One day, Shing’s gonna piss off the wrong person, and Yutai will end up paying the price.’
Tao nodded and took another sip. ‘It’s difficult operating as a team with this much division. Maybe the growing Yang situation will pull us all closer.’
‘Yeah well, the one annui-cycle with them already seems too much,’ Ushi retorted. ‘I’m not expecting any heart-to-heart bonding sessions with any of my team. Maybe I’ll give Cheng a chance.’
‘So, what about you, brother?’ Tao queried, his voice piercing through the pleasant hum of conversation. ‘You’ve criticised almost everyone. What are your shortcomings?’
Ushi winced slightly, not expecting that question.
‘Uhh, mine? Well…I need to think about it.’
‘You took no time in labelling Shing as a bad person, right?’ Tao prodded, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
‘Maybe not ‘bad’, just that it’s tough to see the good in him,’ Ushi corrected, his tone guarded, knowing of Tao’s questioning and debate-loving nature.
‘Semantics, my friend,’ Tao dismissed with a wave of his hand. ‘My point is, good-bad binaries, when it comes to people, I reckon they don’t exist. Sure, an idea can be good or bad. Like the ideology of the Yang — unquestionably horrible; but ideas aren’t people. You can hypothetically write every detail of an idea on paper, but you cannot fit the essence of one’s nature on paper.’
‘I can’t see how. You act like a bad person, you’re a bad person. You act like a good person, you’re a good person. Sounds simple to me. If you want, I’ll even write it down on a piece of paper for you,’ Ushi remarked sarcastically with a chuckle.
‘So what do you call it when someone spends their life doing both good and bad in equal measure? Are they half-good and half-bad? Does it cancel out? See how this ‘one or the other’ philosophy doesn’t hold up to scrutiny?’
Ushi huffed in irritation. ‘You’re overcomplicating it. Shing is indisputably bad. Even if we were to weigh his deeds, the scale would tip towards the negative in a heartbeat, no need to hypothesise about some fictional half-whatever person.’
‘Ah but you see, in describing good and bad as weights on a scale, you’ve already agreed it is more a spectrum than binary. Then there’s the Spectrum Paradox—where does one side stop and the other side start?’
‘If this is some Dongist dogma, I’m not interested, Tao,’ Ushi deflected, shaking his head to quash the impending sermon.
‘You don’t have to be a Dongist to benefit from its teachings,’ Tao countered. ‘Even I don’t follow the faith as I should, but I can admit it has profound ideas we can part from it. Take Yutai, for instance. You dislike his passive stance on Shing’s behaviour. But how many times have you tried to guide Shing?’
‘As I said before, If Shing ever spouts off in front of me, he’ll learn his lesson. And let’s be honest, he’d never listen to me the way he does to Yutai; they’re best pals. I’m just another guy to Shing.’
‘But Shing’s negative actions and biases persist, regardless of whether you witness them or not, so what’s the point in ‘waiting for him to slip-up’? You’re also hoping to see him change, no? Could it be that you’re using this brutish ‘say it to my face’ strategy to avoid confronting him?’
‘Brother, I want Shing to change, but that doesn’t mean I want the responsibility for it. Shing can rot in No Man’s Land for all I care. Unless he insults me or my southern heritage, he does not concern me.’
‘Then why expect any different from Yutai? He’s chosen friendship with Shing, not caretaker of his character. Just as you aren’t. So maybe both of you have no fault, or rather, both of you are doing something wrong.’
Ushi lowered his gaze in sudden realisation, his fingers tracing patterns on the worn-out table surface.
‘It’s a convincing perspective. Maybe I was a bit too harsh on Yutai.’
Tao smiled and reached across the table, giving Ushi’s arm a companionable pat.
‘See, Dongism teaches us that the refusal to see a solution is as bad as perpetuating the problem itself. There is no such thing as being neutral, only complacency. You can be a Boddo and agree with that, surely. I know your religion isn’t too far off from Dongism.’
Ushi nodded his head slowly, downing the last of his drink. As he put down his glass, his eyes fell upon the news broadcast playing on the entertainment screen over the bar.
‘Oi, Ushi, Tao, look there! Ain’t that the Yang?’ Haoyu’s deep voice, roughened by years of whiskey and smoke, cut through the bar’s normal joviality. His prosthetic arm swung towards the giant screen, contrasting with his other flesh and bone limb. As the bartender’s call echoed in their ears, Ushi and Tao noticed an unusual lull enveloping the pub. The normal chatter had transformed into a chorus of hushed whispers, the atmosphere now thick with unease as the patrons of the bar were drawn to the display.
As Ushi and Tao looked at the news, they could saw a masked man in red robes standing on the ledge of a building, addressing a massive crowd over a microphone.
‘What the…? Is that The Ibilis?’ Tao’s question drifted into the muted suspense, his brow creasing into a tight knot.
Ushi immediately looked to the left side of his seat where his Kingmaker coat and cap were piled. He dug under it for his holocommunicator and took it out, noticing 6 missed buzzes from Cheng. Damn me, I didn’t think I’d have to answer to a call this late into the sleep-cycle.
‘What do we do, brother?’ Tao asked.
‘We head to Ho Man Ting,’ Ushi replied, a determined look in his eyes. ‘If Cheng and the others are there, they’ll need our help.’
****
Shing and Yutai continue walking through the dimmed streets of Kam Shan, escorted by a Black Jacket gangster.
‘Don’t ever tell anyone this, but I’ve always dreamed of getting on the King Rail,’ Kaang confessed as he tried to keep up with Yutai and Shing. His greased hair flopped with his large steps, his sagging pants sliding down his thin frame every few strides.
‘It’s really nothing much,’ Yutai said noticing Kaang’s awed expression gazing up at them. A whole head taller than Kaang, both Kingmakers cast an intimidating shadow.
‘You wanna know what it’s like on the rail?’ Shing asked mischievously.
Kaang gave an awkward smile. ‘What do you mean?’
Shing grinned. ‘Get on Yutai’s shoulders and he’ll jump up and down while I shake you left and right. That there would be an accurate simulation of being on that piece of shit train.’ Yutai spat out a laugh and Kaang chuckled. ‘No way the King Rail is that bad.’
‘It isn’t!’ Yutai said as he stifled his laugh. ‘Shing! The Emperor didn’t spend almost a trillion Hongs on the rail just for you to bash it to everyone!’ Yutai turned to Kaang. ‘If there’s one thing we Kingmakers are masters at, its complaining.’
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Kaang raised his palms in surrender. ‘Hey now, you won’t be catching my Black Jacket-ass criticising you guys about anything.’
‘We better not!’ Shing jested.
They ambled through the archaic corridor on the ground level of a towering groundscraper, a stark reminder of Kowloon’s ancient past. Kowloon’s architecture was a mix of two distinct designs: the old-world charm of Old Kowloon on levels 14 and below and the regular sprawl of Kowloon from the 15th level onwards. Walking through the dim passage, the trio encountered remnants of Old Kowloon—shops huddled under flickering bulbs, dusty windows, exposed brick walls with peeling paint, and a cacophony of clattering vents. The ground, a patchwork of uneven cement slabs and open sewage channels, added to the raw, musty scent of the old city.
The three stepped foot into a small, dimly-lit food court. Tiny, shuttered shops formed a silent square around the deserted eating area, the tables and seats vacant, echoing the stillness of the ongoing sleep-cycle. The daytime lamps hung like a spectral gallery above, their lights extinguished. Two-storey shop buildings boxed them in, balconies sandwiched under the ceiling, shrouded in darkness, likely serving as the shopkeepers’ homes. Green tendrils of fungal vine-plants crawled over the edges of the balconies, reaching towards the ground in a cascade that brushed against the shop signs.
The three traversed through the desolate square, shifting tables aside and ducking below umbrella shades. Kaang led them to a tall, arched gate secluded in the corner, its black iron bars keeping the world outside the slumbering food court at bay. With a quick swipe of a key, the gate swung open, revealing a cobblestone stairway that descended into the shadows between two massive groundscrapers. Looking up, Yutai saw the two gargantuan buildings facing each other, almost touching. In the narrow gap between them, the black void of Kowloon’s dome ceiling yawned above, an abyss staring back at him.
As their footsteps echoed against the ancient stones, Yutai thought of something to say. ‘You know,’ he began, his voice blending with the rumble of distant vents. ‘The leader of our team has a similar name to yours. The Emperor’s very own nephew.’
‘Yaozhi Keung?’ Kaang clarified with a hint of apprehension. ‘He’s been on the news a lot recently. With that Jian stuff.’
Shing flashed a knowing smirk. ‘Then you’ve heard of the best of our lieutenant. We have a team of six and turns out the guy meant to lead us is our weakest link.’
‘If I may speak my mind?’ Kaang asked as he loosened the sleeves of his black jacket. Yutai kept walking, offering no response, but Shing gave a welcoming nod.
‘Yaozhi Keung isn’t really respected out west,’ Kaang continued. ‘His mother died because of him during the rebellions, which led to General Denzhen losing control of King-controlled Huang territory. We all learned in school what a shitshow that was.’
‘Now I’m not the type to make habit out of defending Keung,’ Yutai interjected, ‘But I think it’s a bit unfair to speak as though he killed his mother. It’s childbirth for crying out loud. Shit, if we’re blaming Keung for his mother dying, then I better be hearing you two claim responsibility for every rip, tear, and stretch you caused your mothers.’
A moment of silence passed as Kaang pursed his lips and nodded briskly. ‘I’m not sure how much you two know of Kam Shan history, but we once had legendary family called the Fong clan.’
Both Kings listened attentively as Kaang continued. ‘The Fongs produced a long line of military strategists for Aunt Tong’s family, earning a formidable reputation in the Western Reaches. During the great rebellions, when Yaozhi Denzhen vanished from the front lines, it allowed for a southern charge that almost reached Kam Shan’s capital. The Fong family home was unfortunately in their path, and it was destroyed. Everyone inside slaughtered. All the men were out fighting the war, leaving the women and children defenceless. Lord-Captain Winsen Fong returned from the war with no family to welcome him back. Despite Aunt Tong’s pleas for him to remarry and revive the clan’s future, he refused, and only died a couple of annui-cycles ago, a lonely old man. ‘The world does not deserve us Fong’s, so I’m taking us back,’ his famous last words were. No one in Kam Shan has any illusions about the loss of our great Fong clan — Keung’s very existence is a bad omen for us, for Kowloon.’
Without missing a beat, Shing affirmed Kaang’s criticisms. ‘I’m not surprised at all. The legendary Dragon, revered for his strategic prowess, crumbled under the weight of Keung’s birth. The southern front fell into chaos, and if it weren’t for Gener-…Jian and the other Dragons, all would have been lost. Keung’s more than a bad omen, the Light seems to shirk any path he walks.’
General Denzhen is a great man, Shing, Yutai thought to himself. He doesn’t deserve any vitriol.
‘But is it true that Keung made it to Lieutenant in the fastest time ever because of the favour his father grants him?’ Kaang asked earnestly.
Shing nodded. ‘It’s true. All of it. Keung became praefecti at 16, a tribune at 20, legate at 22 and a goddamn lieutenant just one cycle later. Even Yutai can agree that becoming a lieutenant at 23 has been the biggest bastardisation of our Kingmaker name.’ Yutai very slowly nodded his head, conceding to the unfortunate point. It was unfair. Shing continued, ‘It takes at least 20 years of Kingmaker training to even be considered for lieutenant, unless you’re a born prodigy like General Cao. And I can tell you right now, Keung is no Cao; he is talentless, a nose so high in the air that it puts some of these groundscrapers to shame.’
Shing, you need to shut up! Yutai thought as he tried to give Shing a wide stare that he failed to notice. We should not be painting such poor images of ourselves to outsiders!
Shing continued. ‘Did you know he recently got beaten within an inch of his life by three other Kings who were, what, just regular Centurions?’
Shing…that’s private Kingmaker information, Yutai clenched his jaw in frustration as his partner continued.
‘Centurion. Kaang, that’s the lowest field rank for a Kingmaker. A lieutenant Kingmaker should be able to take on five prefects blindfolded. I find myself not wanting to ever become a lieutenant because of Keung. Oh, and don’t get me started on his lapdog Cheng, the second weakest link in our group!’
‘Enough, brother!’ Yutai thundered, cutting the conversation short. ‘Let’s change the subject. This conversation is growing tiresome.’ Though he didn’t entirely disagree with Shing’s case for Keung’s nepotism, Yutai knew what he was saying was wildly inappropriate for a Kingmaker. He shot Shing a stern look, and he responded with a subtle nod.
‘Yeah,’ Shing acquiesced, his tone lighter. ‘Talking about Keung does tend to become boring. Apologies Kaang. Let’s talk about you. What’s it like working under Tong? Actually no, tell me more about that monster that stood behind her back at the den.’
‘You mean Shou Feng?’ Kaang’s tone became softer and his walking pace slowed down. ‘I avoid talking about him really, as do most. His temper has always been explosive but after his hands were made iridium, a loss of his temper could easily mean loss of your head.’
‘Is he really her son?’ Shing asked. ‘I can’t even imagine him ever being small enough to come out of a woman’s cunt.’
‘Yes, the son and personal guard of the Aunty. Ever since the Tei Lung incident, he’s been kept on a short leash. The Aunt worries about his unchecked anger sparking another political catastrophe for Kam Shan.’
Yutai interjected, ‘You’re going to find this hard to believe, Kaang, but another one of our teammates has a similar physique to him.’
Shing smirked, ‘Ah, Ushi. I had the same thought. What do you think, could Ushi stand a chance against him, brother?’
‘Hardly,’ Yutai responded, ‘Shou looked to be half a man wider than our Ushi. And against his iridium fists? Perhaps if Ushi had a similar advantage, he’d have a chance.’
Shing raised an eyebrow. ‘But remember, he still has the fighting skill of a Kingmaker. A praefecti no less and —’
Kaang chimed in before Shing could finish. ‘But experience plays a crucial role. Shou, at 38, has been running around doing assignments alongside Black Jacket veterans since he was eight. He’s spent three decades honing his skills, perfecting his tactics, and building every muscle to its biological maximum. And how old is Ushi? About as young as you two?’
‘Yeah, I suppose you have a point, Kaang. Ushi seems like a child in comparison,’ answered Yutai. ‘But it’d be interesting to see a fight between the two.’
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Shing laughed in disbelief. ‘Kingmaker training has nothing on age differences! I’d empty my pockets any day to witness Ushi crush Shou. As long as my pockets return twice as heavy, which they would.’
Kaang interjected with a sombre tone. ‘You two don’t get it with Shou. It sounds like this partner of yours has earned your admiration and respect. But do you fear your friend? Do you shut up whenever he walks past you? Apologise if you look at him for too long? No, Shou…he’s a nightmare. He instils terror in both his enemies and his “friends.” His violent temper is a ticking bomb, so dangerous that it’s the biggest threat to the Aunt and her power. And Light knows how many times you Kingmakers have tried to bargain with the Aunt to get Shou into your ranks. So no, this friend of yours won’t stand a chance, but tell him not to take it personally. No one would.’
‘I suppose we’ll never know,’ Yutai said with a shrug, ending the debate.
They now stood on a wide footbridge, looking at the University of Kam Shan at its other end. It was an imposing building, its majestic facade adorned with expansive glass windows, gleaming white pillars, and meticulously pruned hedges. Spotlights perched at ground level illuminated the walls of the structure, casting a soft glow that ascended to the uppermost floors. This was the most prestigious university the district had to offer, bearing the namesake of the district itself. However, the sleep-cycle had pulled any signs of life from the campus until the next work-cycle.
‘Is that the university?’ Yutai’s voice echoed as they began crossing the bridge, his gaze fixed on the monumental structure at its other end.
‘It’s nothing fancy like Yau Technical, but it’s probably the nicest-looking university in all of the Western Reaches. Dr Chinh’s lab quarters are just a few floors higher.’
As they ventured across, Shing and Yutai peered down into the chasm below, where the dimly lit streets hummed with nighttime activity. Muted conversations and laughter wafted upward from the huddles of people who went about their business in the streets and alleyways beneath.
Upon reaching the main entrance, Yutai wasn’t surprised to find the glass doors locked with a small glowing blue screen beside it. With a swift touch from Kaang, they sprung open, revealing a white-washed hallway bathed in lights that sequentially flickered to life. The immaculate white tiles reflected the soft glow and echoed their footsteps, leading them past a series of empty laboratories.
Beyond the maze of labs, a vast lobby emerged, filled with a sea of study desks and a sweeping staircase leading to more corridors above. Mini supercomputers were integrated into the scattered study tables, all overlooked by a towering glass pillar housing an elevator. The trio advanced towards it and Kaang pressed a button to open it’s doors.
‘Hold any degrees, Kaang?’ Shing asked, breaking the silence. The three stepped inside and Kaang pressed a button to take them to the 5th level.
‘Anyone with a degree wouldn’t be a black-jacket grunt for the Aunt.’ Kaang replied, ‘So, unfortunately, no. I’ve never quite fit in with the book-smart types, so I’m not losing sleep over the fact that I can barely read.’
The glass lift rose higher and higher until it came to a halt. The doors slid open to reveal another long hallway, its lights turning on one-by-one. They walked in silence for a few minutes until Kaang stopped by a closed door on their left.
‘Here it is, boys. Doctor Chinh’s quarters.’
Kaang faced the room’s security pad and swiped a card over its screen. The small screen loaded as they waited for it to unlock.
Pii-puu.
It flashed red, remaining locked.
‘You got the right key?’ Shing asked.
‘Of course. These locks work by communicating with some server. Maybe they’re down or something.’
Kaang tried again, but was met with the same pii-puu.
Yutai looked back at the hallway and began entertaining the idea of heading back.
BANG!
With Yutai’s head still turned, a gunshot rang out next to him. Kaang jumped back and Yutai turned around with his hand on his holstered gun. Shing, overwhelmed by impatience, had shot the security pad, causing the door to shudder and jam open.
‘Subtlety, brother! Did you forget where we are?!’ Yutai reprimanded, before shaking his head and leading the way into the shadowy quarters. Shing shrugged, mouthing a mute ‘What?’ before following after Yutai, and Kaang entering last.
As they ventured inside, they found the dwelling expectantly empty. The trio dispersed, with Kaang eventually locating the light switch and flooding the space with soft, warm illumination.
The quarters reflected the scientist’s eccentricity: a harmonious mix of disorder and organisation. Piles of scientific texts and academic journals lay haphazardly across a desk adorned with antiquated scientific paraphernalia. High-tech gadgets half-assembled and devices with exposed wiring and circuitry peered out from the cluttered shelves, giving an air of controlled chaos to the otherwise austere surroundings.
He looks to have been working on many things at once, Yutai thought.
A single wall on the far left side was covered with framed certificates, completed degrees, and photographs with other acclaimed scientists. The quarters resembled a studio apartment, with everything in one open space.
At the other side of the room, Yutai saw a tack board on the wall littered with printed newspaper articles. As he approached it, he noticed many of them were about the same thing — abnormal sewer rodent sightings. Among them were photographs capturing grotesque and freakishly massive bite marks on other dead creatures and a local boy posing with a colossal severed rat tail. One article even reported a sewer rodent carcass the size of a southern canine clogging a call centre’s ventilation system.
“ANIMAL OR MONSTER? SIGHTINGS OF SUPER RODENTS INCREASE AROUND WEST KOWLOON.”
Meanwhile, at the front end of the quarters, Shing’s attention was drawn to the doctor’s study desk, littered with lecture notes around a computer. ‘Wow, look at this. Computer is still hibernating,’ Shing called out. As he continued inspecting the desk, Kaang was near the jammed front door, whistling away, displaying a jarring lack of investigative insight, content to leave the heavy lifting to the skilled and talented Kingmakers.
Yutai continued looking at the tack board hanging on the wall. Amid the clippings of newspapers, a cluster of hand-written notes stood out, all bearing the signature of a ‘Dr Jode.’ Frustrated and angered scribbles in red pen annotated around complex handwritten mathematical equations hinted at a desperate mathematical disagreement, the annotations of Dr Chinh. Yutai noticing the indents of the pen still present on the parchment. These were recent, and undoubtedly related to their expedition to Chuan Wan Dam.
As he fixed his eyes to try and work out the context behind the equations, the holocommunicator on his wrist pierced the silence.
Shing called out, ‘Who’s that?’
‘Cheng…’ Yutai mumbled to himself as he looked at the small display on his wrist, wondering what he could be wanting at this late hour.‘Hello? Sir, is everything okay? Hello?’
‘Grrzt-rother, brother, can you hear me? Yutai, are you there?’
Cheng’s voice, even through its garble, sounded urgent. Shing turned around and listened in from the other end of the room, frowning.
‘Yes sir, I can hear you. What’s going on?’ Yutai spoke loudly into his holocommunicator, his voice echoing throughout the quarters. Kaang, pretending to not eavesdrop on the Kingmakers’ communications by acting preoccupied, listened in anyway.
‘I -brrzt- help. We need your help. Get to Ho—n Ting. -brrzt- are all here…-Shing, too.’
‘Sorry sir, I can’t read you. Where?’
‘Ho M—-n —ing. Ho Man —ing. The square. Rooftop — the mall. We think -brrzt- Ibilis has rallied a mob -brrzzt- Yang—’
‘Ho Man Ting, the square, mall rooftop, understood. I’m coming now.’
Yutai hung up and looked on worriedly at Shing. Kingmakers rarely ever had summons like this.
His mind raced through thoughts of how Cheng, normally unshakeable, sounded so rattled.
Yutai’s voice finally sliced through the tension, sharp and commanding. ‘This is urgent, Shing. We need to make for Man Ting. Now.’ He turned to Kaang. ‘Where can we find the nearest King Rail?’
‘It’s not far, I can take you there. We can get there within 10 minutes if we run.’
As Yutai took a step forward towards the door, the wails of Ah Lam — Dr Chinh’s grieving wife — rang in his mind. He understood that if he left this now, there was almost no chance the doctor’s body would be returning to her soon.
‘Brother! What are you waiting for?’ Shing asked, already half out the door with their Black Jacket escort.
Yutai bit his lip as he tried to decide his plan of action. ‘I don’t know, Shing. The lady I spoke to over the phone was really distraught over this.’
‘And? Did you promise her you were going to solve this shit tonight?!’
‘No, of course not. The Aunt promised me that if we started this investigation from tonight, she’d release the doctor’s body before the lanterns reignite. We jeopardise meeting our end of the deal if we leave now because let’s be real, we’ve done fuck all so far. Besides, the Light is awaiting the poor man in the Memorial Pipes. It’s best we don’t interfere with divine processes.’
Shing sighed. ‘Always has to be you overcomplicating things. Alright,’ Shing began, a resolution hardening in his voice. ‘I’ll go with Kaang to the King Rail and get to the Square. Stay here and figure out this mess with the doctor.’
‘But what about Cheng?’ Yutai asked. He knew the tribune would not take kindly to Yutai disobeying his summon.
‘I’ll handle him. Come, Kaang, let’s hurry.’
‘Wait!’ Yutai raised a hand and hurried to Shing. He grabbed Shing’s hand and pulled him in for a hug. ‘Thank you, brother,’ he whispered. ‘But if things escalate, do not hesitate to call me. Not for a moment.’ Yutai’s voice was stern and resolute.
Shing gave a quick nod and patted Yutai’s back reassuringly. ‘I will. I’ll see you soon, brother.’
As Shing rushed out into the wide-open, Kaang close on his heels, the Black Jacket stuck his head back through the doorway again. ‘Yutai sir, please don’t forget to lock the doors of the university as you leave. Otherwise, I may be invited to the Aunt’s next tea party.’
‘I will. Now go!’ Yutai urged, sending Kaang off with a curt nod.
Once he was alone, Yutai let his body ease. He relaxed his shoulders and switched on the camera on his holocommunicator. He walked back to the tack board and meticulously captured it on his wrist-mounted device. The electronic shutter on his holocommunicator blinked rhythmically, recording the chaotic array of articles, photographs, and frenzied mathematical equations. In the eerie stillness, the click of each picture seemed deafeningly loud.
Yutai turned around and looked at the desk that Shing was at earlier. Didn’t he say the computer was hibernating? He approached and tapped on the touch pad on the table. The screen switched on.
Okay. I guess the first obvious thing to do is check his inbox for communications.
Yutai tapped on a few places on the computer, navigating through its directories. He accessed the Kowlooni Network and went into his mailbox. However, Yutai saw that the last communication exchange was made more than ten cycles ago.
That’s not right. Maybe that’s why his card was missing and his room was hard-locked. Someone came in here to make sure we don’t find out who he was talking to in the days leading to his death.
Yutai took a step back with a hand on his hip and sighed.
This better not be a dead end. As he impatiently tapped his foot, he approached the computer screen once more and clumsily tapped his fingers along its frame. As his fingers traced around the sides of the screen, he felt the crinkle of a torn piece of paper, taped to the screen’s backside. Tearing it off, he squinted to read the tiny writing. He mouthed what he could read; XRP01320123. It was a Kowlooni communication number. The first three letters represented the district code of the number. XRP was a Ho Man Ting number.
Ho Man Ting? That’s where Cheng called us from. A coincidence?
Yutai raised his holocommunicator and dialled the number, a hollow sense of anticipation knotted in his stomach.
The line rang once. Then again. Then once more.
It sounded like someone picked up.
‘Hello? Doctor?’
The voice was deep and digitised.
‘Who’s this?’ Yutai demanded.
‘… …’
Beep.
The call hung up. Yutai stared at his holocommunicator displaying the short 10-second timestamp of the call. He shook his head and chuckled to himself. ‘Oh, whoever you are. You fucked up by picking up. You never pick up a Kingmaker’s phone call.’
Yutai approached the computer once more. He intended to use the computer to initiate a trace of the number’s location. His fingers danced over the keys on the table, the neon glow of the paper-thin screen illuminating his focused features as he inserted his Kingmaker root program, a cable from his holocommunicator, into a computer slot below the desk. A cascade of data flooded the screen as he gained autonomy over the system’s back-end, cryptic lines of code and strings of information unfurling in a matrix-like display.
Amidst the avalanche of technical jargon and complex directories, Yutai unearthed the call log of his holocommunicator. Ten seconds is more than enough.
Each second stretched into eternity as he waited, his eyes trained on the slowly progressing progress bar that displayed as a hologram from his holocommunicator. As it finally reached completion, a coordinate appeared. Yutai searched these coordinates in his holocommunicator’s map and there it was revealed its location. The 13th floor of Ho Man Ting University, right in the heart of the square. The very same location Cheng had called from, where Shing was headed right now.
So it isn’t a coincidence. It’s coming from the square. This now makes me certain the Yang are involved. I need to go to its source — maybe our mystery man is still there.
A surge of adrenaline washed over Yutai, his heart pounding in his chest. Hastily setting a waypoint to the nearest King Rail, he grabbed his gear and bolted towards the door, the weight of the revelations spurring him into a desperate sprint.