Chen Wujun passed by a convenience store and stepped inside to glance at the cigarettes behind the counter.
"Kent. How much for a carton?"
"A whole carton? Two hundred." The shopkeeper eyed Chen Wujun.
Kent was a premium brand — most people in the Walled City couldn't afford them.
Plenty of folks still bought loose singles.
"Give a carton!"
When he arrived at the Dance Hall, the runner at the door spotted him and hurried over. "Brother Jun! The guys are in the alley. Yellow Dog and his boys are keeping watch."
Chen Wujun pulled out a pack and tossed it to the runner.
"Thanks!"
"Thanks, Brother Jun!"
He headed toward the alley off to the side. After about ten ters he spotted three n standing around smoking, and two crumpled shapes on the ground.
"Brother Jun!"
"Split these among yourselves!" Chen Wujun lobbed the bulk of the carton over to them.
"Brother Jun, that's way too generous! We just helped out a little." The runners waved their hands hastily.
"We're all family. Let treat you to a smoke!"
Chen Wujun grinned and clapped each of them on the shoulder, thinking to himself: 'When you're out making your na, you need both the stick and the carrot. Make them fear you, but also make sure there's sothing in it for them. That's how you earn real loyalty.'
Then he walked over to the two n on the ground.
By now, Brother Hua had regained consciousness. The front of his shirt was soaked crimson with blood.
Those shards of broken glass had been driven straight into his chest by Chen Wujun's knee strike, and even his sternum had cracked from the impact. Every breath now sent bone-deep agony lancing through him.
Chen Wujun grabbed a fistful of Brother Hua's hair and hauled him upright, staring directly into his eyes. "I didn't want to deal with you back inside. But since you threw away the face I gave you, then fine — consider it gone."
"You've got guts, kid. I'm with Lidong!" Brother Hua ground out through clenched teeth. Just forcing those few words out drenched him in a fresh sheen of sweat.
"So what if you're Lidong? Your people ruined my clothes, and what — you think you don't have to pay?" A vicious edge crept across Chen Wujun's face.
"These pants are designer. Three thousand dollars. Let's call it even at that."
"Why don't you just rob a bank?! My boss is Wen Long! Go ask him for the money!" Brother Hua spat a mouthful of bloody saliva straight onto Chen Wujun's dress shirt.
Chen Wujun looked down at his shirt, then back up at Brother Hua. After a mont, he smiled.
"Brother Hua. You really are sothing brave."
Then he slamd Brother Hua's head into the wall.
The instant he released his grip, Brother Hua slid down the wall and crumpled to the ground.
Chen Wujun turned to the runners nearby.
"Find sothing to hit with!"
They exchanged uneasy glances. Judging by the look on Chen Wujun's face, this could get ugly.
The two biggest gangs in the Walled City were Hetu and Lidong. They'd clashed plenty of tis before, with casualties on both sides.
These days the two sides used Lung Tsun Road as a boundary line. There was still friction from ti to ti, but generally both sides showed restraint.
Roughing up a couple of Lidong guys was one thing, but if soone ended up dead or crippled, that was a whole different matter.
"I'll go check." One of the runners hurried off, heading straight into the Dance Hall to find Karen and filled her in.
"Karen-jie, what should we do?"
"Why are you asking ? Go find him sothing to swing! They're just two punks — what, you think Shark Jiu can't handle the fallout?" Karen replied with a languid smile.
The runner went behind the bar and grabbed a baseball bat. He glanced at Karen. She looked at the bat once, then turned away without a word.
The runner carried it straight into the alley and handed it to Chen Wujun.
"Brother Hua, right? Don't say I didn't give you a chance." Chen Wujun took the bat and looked down at Brother Hua, lips peeling back into a grin.
"My boss won't let you get away with this!" Brother Hua was still making threats with impressive bravado.
Chen Wujun swung the bat and cracked it across his arm.
The runners nearby could hear the bone snap. A chill crawled up their spines.
Brother Hua clutched his arm and howled in agony.
Chen Wujun brought the bat down again and shattered his leg, then stomped Brother Hua's face several tis in rapid succession, kicking as fury boiled in his gut. "Screaming that loud, that ugly — maybe you should just stop."
A mont later Chen Wujun lifted his foot. Brother Hua's face was a mask of blood, barely recognizable as human.
"And here I thought you were really that tough. A real iron man!"
Chen Wujun's heart was still full of venom. He swung one more ti and broke Brother Hua's other arm.
Only then did he walk over to Brother Tiger, grabbed him by the hair, and wrenched him up to eye level, flashing him a smile.
"So how about it? You two are good brothers, right? Want to pay his debt for him?"
"The pants plus the shirt — he now owes six thousand."
"I didn't rip your pants, and I didn't stain your shirt." Brother Tiger didn't have Brother Hua's steel. Cold sweat covered his forehead, and his words ca out slurred through his broken teeth.
"I'll give you everything in my pockets. Just let go."
Chen Wujun rummaged through his pockets and ca up with nothing but a handful of loose change — maybe a hundred and so dollars total. He tossed it onto Brother Hua's body.
"That's for his dical bills."
Then he kicked Brother Tiger over, swung the bat, and broke his leg. A savage grin split his face.
"Drinking buddies when things are good, but the mont trouble hits, it's got nothing to do with you... Did your boss never teach you? The most important thing out here is loyalty?"
"I was going to let you walk. But if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a man with no loyalty!"
Chen Wujun turned to look at the runners.
"Am I right?"
In the darkness, Chen Wujun's eyes glead bright — terrifyingly bright.
The runners felt that chill creep up their spines again and imdiately chid in:
"Absolutely! Loyalty's everything out here. A man with no loyalty — he's not even a man!"
Chen Wujun tossed the bat to one of the runners, walked over to Brother Hua, and crouched down. He picked up the bills he'd thrown on him one by one, then patted Brother Hua's face with the cash.
"This was supposed to be your dical fund, but you still owe six thousand. So this hundred and thirty-two goes to first. You still owe fifty-nine hundred."
He turned out everything else in Brother Hua's pockets.
Found another three hundred seventy.
"This goes to too. Still owe fifty-six hundred."
Chen Wujun had always been a fair man in everything he did.
Though anything above three digits, he only counted in round numbers.
Chen Wujun stood and planted his foot on Brother Hua's chest, glaring down at him with murder in his eyes. "Brother Hua, right? You still owe fifty-six hundred. If you don't pay up... I'll co find you. And next ti, there'll be interest."
He'd done his howork on debt collection — picked up a thing or two.
Then he turned and walked away with a lingering scowl, glancing down at his pants as he went. A clean slash across the knee.
Underneath, thin threads of blood seeped through. But back when he'd first started training his knees, they'd been raw and bloody every single day, and he'd endured that.
A scratch like this? He couldn't care less. A night's sleep and it would be gone by morning.
"Karen-jie!" Chen Wujun slid into the seat beside Karen and called to the bartender, "Another soda for ."
"Two small-ti punks are no big deal, but they're Wen Long's boys. Watch out — he might co looking for trouble." Karen tilted her head toward him.
Hetu had its Four Heavenly Kings; Lidong had its own heavyweights too, styled as the Five Dragon Generals.
Wen Long was one of them, and he controlled half of all the Number 4 trade in the Walled City.
"Got it," Chen Wujun nodded.
He wasn't in the wrong here.
When he spotted that Degenerate Gambler, of course he had to drag the man back.
It was those two idiots who started trouble. And most importantly, they'd ruined his pants and refused to pay.
The way things turned out — that was entirely their fault.
Chen Wujun spun around and leaned back against the bar, soda bottle in hand, watching the dancers on stage.
After having experienced the real thing, watching this felt genuinely different.
Ah Yue really did have a killer figure.
After a while, Chen Wujun set the bottle on the bar and headed out. He stopped at a deli first, picked up so braised beef, had them slice it up, and ate as he walked.
Back ho, he changed into fresh clothes, then headed up to the rooftop.
He pushed off with both hands and landed neatly on the roof. He glanced once at the dark abyss below, then cleared his mind. Everything — every worldly distraction — fell away.
First, standing post. Then, forms.
Across the way stood Tung Uk Estate, a large civilian housing complex on the east side of the Walled City.
A young woman stood at her window holding a cup. After a long mont, she huffed in annoyance. "What a lunatic! Doing martial arts on a rooftop in the middle of the night! I thought he was going to jump!"
She'd been watching for quite so ti. At first she thought the figure was about to leap, so she'd grabbed her cup and stood by the window with great interest, waiting for the show.
It was only after a good while that she realized the person was actually practicing martial arts.
Having finished her complaints, the girl cupped both hands around her mug and kept watching anyway.
Though the Walled City was practically next door, she'd never once set foot inside.
She'd known since she was little: that place was a city of sin, a lawless no-man's-land beyond anyone's jurisdiction.
And it always reeked — a perpetual miasma of blood, rot, and mildew all mingled together.
Once in middle school, she and her classmates had tried to venture in on a dare. They made it as far as the main gate before turning tail and running.
"Everyone in the Walled City is insane."
Deep in the night, under the moonlight, a silhouette pivoted endlessly along the rooftop's edge.
It was too dark to see clearly — just a shape outlined in silver moonlight, the movents impossible to decipher — but she could tell they were powerful. Ferocious.
...
In a building on the north side of the Walled City, a bespectacled man with a vaguely refined look sat chomping a cigar, playing mahjong with his underlings. A woman with a bombshell figure was draped over his side.
A mont later, a runner hurried in.
"Boss, two of our dealers got worked over by Shark Jiu's people!"
"Worked over? Didn't they tell them their boss is ?" Wen Long replied without a shred of concern.
"All simples! Clean flush!"
"I win!" The young man across from him shoved his tiles forward.
"Win my ass!" Wen Long snapped irritably and pushed his own tiles away. "I'm done!"
"Boss, they did say they were yours. Got beaten even worse for it! One guy called Hua got both arms and a leg broken. Another one, Tiger, got a leg broken!"
Wen Long's expression turned dark instantly.
"Bring them to !"
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