Chapter Text
Debone the fish like so. Jaye remembered the words of his father teaching him as he pulled the fish out of his cooler. Taking out his trusty knives that he sharpened the night before, Jaye began fileting the fish on his cutting board. Starting to show some serious wear from years of abuse, but he was barely making a profit from this stand as it was, so he just tried to ignore the notches and kept working. Eventually, he was able to debone the fish. He tossed the head, tail, and bones back in the cooler. It could be used for some stock later, either to sell or for dinner without having to spend extra LMD.
With that done, Jaye focused on mincing the meat. Holding the fish down with his bare knuckles, he began slicing the filets up into small pieces with his cleaver, and then those pieces into tinier pieces, until the fish was all minced. After that, he smacked the minced pieces with the flat of his knife until they formed into a paste, then Jaye sprinkled a liberal amount of onion, garlic, and ginger powders, dried orange peel, a pinch of sugar, and mixed them in with the fish paste and a splash of sesame oil in a bowl. With a spoon, he scooped up small portions of the mixed paste, slapped them back down on the bowl, and repeated the process a few times.
With that prep done, Jaye wrapped a sheet of cloth over the top of the bowl and put it in the cooler underneath. Meanwhile, he started heating up the griddle and boiling a pot of water on the side. The processed originium crystal in the heating tank offering a low hum as it slowly woke up. Jaye spread a line of sesame oil over the cooking surface, waiting for it to reach the smoke point. Some folks preferred the hot-pot style finballs, and others preferred the pan fried version. He tried to cater to both tastes.
Jaye remembered being afraid of the Originium tank as a boy, after hearing how merely touching Originium could turn one into an “Infected,” effectively ending their future. Yet Originium was also used to power nearly all technology across Terra, from the engines that moved entire Mobile Cities, to the billboards that lit up the Central District nearly 24 hours a day, to smaller objects like mobile phones and even cooking stoves like the one he used to make delicious finballs. It took multiple years with his father’s guidance before Jaye stopped being afraid. Processed Originium was fine enough to touch, as long as you didn’t try to do something stupid like stab yourself with it or lick it. Merely standing right next to a device using it for power wouldn’t do any harm. Besides, there were enough layers insulating the crystal in the tank from the outside, so it wouldn’t pose a problem under normal use. Probably.
After several minutes, Jaye took another spoon and scooped a little bit of water from the pot, then dropped it on the griddle. It hissed and popped, just the right temperature. Jaye took a spoonful of the mixed fish paste from the cooler and plopped it on the hot surface, flattening it with a wooden slotted spatula. Then repeated the process until he had six fried finballs, soon to be finished. As the familiar aroma began to rise from the griddle, he took another six finballs and placed each one in a sectioned-off cage. This item was a bit of a splurge next to his knives, but worth it in his opinion to keep the fishballs from sticking to each other in a gloopy mess. Poached finballs with a bit of broth for those who did not like the pan-fried version.
Jaye considered buying a deep-frier for those who preferred that style, but dealing with the setup and teardown of all his supplies was cumbersome enough without adding a deep frier and the large amount of boiling oil to his routine. Maybe he should’ve listened to his colleague at the shop and got a part-timer to help him out, that would make things go faster and maybe alleviate his boredom. But that would entail additional expenses. A mere fisherman and finball hawker was not the most lucrative of jobs, outside of a select few who could call in favors to have flashy signs attracting curious tourists, or even afford to open a sit-down spot in Central Lungmen under the signs that were lit up 24 hours a day. And his side gig that few others asked him about was very “feast-or-famine.”
Those concerns could be dealt with later. For now, he had to flip the fried finballs so they didn’t burn. Other small sellers also set up alongside this stretch of road, getting ready for the various workers out on their lunch break or occasional tourists with LMD to burn looking for an “authentic” Lung experience. Sammy set up across from Jaye’s stand with his family’s famous char siu bao, some vegetarian and some with barbecued meat inside. Jun Fa set their stand to the right, boiling some Lanzhou lamian ready to be served in bowls. Ali and his son were in the process of seasoning their giant rotating burdenbeast leg. When it was ready, they’d slice off a chunk to be served as kefta kebab by itself on a stick, or take thin slices and layer them inside a thick starchy shell with diced onion, cucumber, and a yogurt-based sauce in what they sold as a “hero sandwich.” You could find all kinds of cuisine here.
A few minutes later, Jaye took the finished finballs and began plating them (technically putting them in a small cardboard box, but that took longer to say). As he turned to get his bowl with the fish paste to prep some more, he found himself facing a small, black-haired Feline holding the bowl and sniffing at it. As Jaye opened his mouth to say something, the Feline put a finger to their lips and made a quick “ssss!” sound.
Jaye grumbled and was about to ignore her when he looked down the street and saw multiple men in business casual wear wielding clubs or bladed weapons walking down the street. Then he looked back at the Feline. Then to the men again as they began accosting some of the other food stands and their owners. Then to the Feline again. Making a decision, he yanked the bowl of fish paste out of her hands and shoved her behind the stall. Jaye then splashed some more sesame oil on the flat top, then began spooning some fish paste to make more fried finballs as a pair of the men in buttoned shirts approached.
“Ah, welcome!” Jaye said, trying to put on his warmest smile, though smiling didn’t come easy with a pale Ursine face like his. “You want finballs? I have multiple fresh, fried or poached, just for you!”
One long-faced Perro and one very buff Forte with small horns looked back at him with a serious expression. The Perro sniffed the air with his large nose while the Forte took a photo from his pocket. The photo was a picture of the black Feline girl, though with longer hair and a pretty dress. “We’re looking for this girl, you seen her?”
“Oooooh a very pretty girl you have in that photo, mister. Maybe if you buy some finballs she will be happy to see you.”
“Don’t play dumb with us,” the Perro growled, “we know she’s close. My nose doesn’t lie.”
“Wow, what is it about this girl that has you so worked up?”
“Our boss wants her, that’s all you need to know. Now hand her over and there won’t be trouble.”
“Here, try a fried finball, the first one’s on the house.”
“We’re not here for your food, asshole!” The Perro smacked the toothpick with the finball out of Jaye’s hand, but before it hit the ground, the Feline caught it and started munching.
“Mmmm, tasty!” The Feline muttered seconds before looking up at the three men now staring back at her. “Aw crap, me and my instincts…”
“Get her!”
“Screw you Remmy, I’m not going back there!”
The small Feline fled, the suited Perro hot on her tail. Some of the other suited men tried to form a blockade at the end of the street, but Jaye didn’t see what happened next as the Forte grabbed him by the shirt collar and growled at him. “Why did you hide her?”
“Let me go and I’ll see if I care enough to answer,” Jaye replied, subtly palming the handle of his sashimi knife.
“Do you know who I am? What this pin on my lapel stands for?”
“Not sure, but I do know you’re going to let me go in three seconds.”
“And if I don’t?”
Jaye didn’t reply, instead sticking his knife deep into the Forte’s thigh. The Forte yelled in pain and tossed Jaye back into his own stand. Mercifully the heating tank held together, but the pot of boiling water and soup stock spilled out into the street, some of it splashed on Jaye’s coat, as did some of the poached finballs inside.
With barely restrained anger, Jaye brushed himself off as best he could and picked up the pot with a little of the boiling liquid still inside. As the Forte yelled and took the knife out of his leg, throwing the bloodied weapon away with enough force that it stuck into Sammy’s stand, Jaye took the pot and swung it at the Forte’s head. The Forte screamed again as he fell to the ground, though the pot partially bent from where the Forte’s right horn took some of the blow.
“Now that was rude. You owe me for the damaged stand, and a new pot.”
The Forte responded with a string of Lungmen swearwords, capped off with “Big mistake, finball seller! You mess with one member of the Sun Chaozhou, you mess with all of us!”
“Sun Chaozhou? Then maybe your boss there can compensate me.”
The Forte picked himself up as one of the other suited men yelled, “Niko! The girl escaped! We gotta go after her or Jiang will have all our heads!”
“Not until I’ve dealt with this Ursine freak!”
“Deal with him later! The girl takes priority!”
The Forte, Niko, whipped his head between his comrades and Jaye running a quick calculation about who currently deserved higher priority. He grumbled another Lung curse at Jaye, and then limped down the street to join his friends. Meanwhile, Jaye salvaged what he could of his stand, and looked around the street to see the others doing the same. Even if most of their stock was still usable, the presence of the gangsters and the ensuing fight would drive most customers away from the street. Everyone here, including Jaye, had to calculate if they could afford to stay on this street, or try to recoup their losses in another time or place.
So much for the lunch rush.
Jaye started cleaning up a bit, trying to set his stand back in working order, when Sammy approached him while holding the knife that was embedded in his own food stand a moment earlier. Jaye looked at the knife, then back at Sammy. “Can I have that back?” Jaye asked.
“Jaye, you know I’m not one to question what you’re into these days, but what are you doing with that black Feline?”
Jaye shrugged, “You’ll have to ask her. This is the first time I’ve met her.”
“Hey, you don’t want to tell me why that’s fine, but I just want to know if it’s gonna be a problem next day too. Not all of us have other sources of income.”
Yet another Lungmenite who thought Jaye was a gangster between his face and his skills with a knife. Jaye tried to deny it for about a year after his dad passed away, but after a while he stopped bothering to correct anyone. Thankfully the number of people who wanted to pick fights with him over his supposed status were fewer than those who were intimidated into respecting him.
“Like I said, this isn’t my problem. I don’t know who the Feline is, or why the Sun Chaozhou would make a show of force around here when the Rat King is still alive. Now can you please give me my knife back? I’d prefer not to replace that one.”
Sammy hesitated a bit, but soon shifted his grip, allowing Jaye to take the knife by the handle. Without saying another word, Sammy went back to his stall. Jaye looked at the others, and saw Ali’s son scampering back to his own stall, in a weak attempt to hide that he was watching the whole incident. Probably hoping he had a better story to tell his own friends later about the Big Bad Ursus. Wouldn’t stop him from embellishing anyway, as kids loved to do.
Jaye sanitized the knife with the Forte’s blood on it and decided to give it another hour to sell what finballs he still could, but he barely made it through half of one when a couple of Inspectors from the Lungmen Guard Department finally showed up. Did the Forte snitch? No, unlikely any but the dumbest gangsters would call for the cops in any situation. Wouldn’t want to bring heat down on their own activities. Maybe it was a nosy neighbor, trying to get the LGD to chase off some “unlicensed vendors.” Or perhaps the Sun Chaozhou had created enough of a stink chasing after the Feline that the LGD decided to retrace their steps. Whatever the reason, it meant that no one was going to come here.
At least I got one person who enjoyed my finballs today, and I didn't even get the chance to ask her name before she ran off. Jaye let out a deep sigh. He was already operating on a thin enough margin as it was, and now he was going to have to ask Mr Lee for some more work to keep his lights on, and to get a new pot. But that would have to wait, as for now Jaye had to put on his best face with this junior-looking Inspector. No, he didn’t see anything. No, he didn’t know who they were, though he did hear they were looking for a girl. Yes, Jaye would give the Inspector a call if he remembered anything else.
When the Inspectors finished taking their notes and left the scene, Jaye took what was left of his seafood and put it back in the cooler, de-powered his portable stove, and packed the ingredients up into little boxes. Then his knives and flatware went into their respective sleeves. He hoped Hung wasn’t too busy, as he carried the ingredients and the salvageable parts of the wooden stand back to the shop. At least that Ursus strength came in handy for times like these. Maybe there was something he could ask Hung, or Mr. Lee himself, to figure out:
Why did I try to hide her?