Chapter Text
July 1982, Hong Kong.
In a small venue, dozens of men hooted and hollered as a young woman appeared through the velvet curtains.
Their cheers grew louder as the girl danced suggestively, slowly taking off her bra and using it to tease the men closest to the stage.
A man sat at the back of the club, watching the crowd make fools of themselves.
He smiled to himself and reached for his glass, as another figure walked in through the door. He didn’t bat an eye as they approached his table. After all, they were the one who said to meet here.
The mysterious figure glanced at the crowd, then back to the man in front of them
"You're never this quiet." they began, taking a seat across from him.
“I always liked how talkative you were.”
The man, apparently named Tony, remained silent as the figure leaned in, resting their chin on their hands.
"But, I guess you’re just choosing your next words carefully.” They said, “I mean, we’ve worked together for years; you’ve probably got a really good explanation for why you’re withholding what’s rightfully mine.”
No response. His face was a mask of well-restrained anger.
"More importantly, I just think it's unfair, you know? Think about everything we’ve been through. All the times I’ve saved your ass—even at the expense of the bottom line. And now, out of nowhere, you decide to resign?”
The man tensed, they wouldn't dare.
“All because of what? A woman?"
He snapped, the glass in his hand flew to the figures' face. It didn't even flinch.
"She's none of your goddamned business"
The figure picked a few shards of glass out of their face and chuckled before breaking into a fit of laughter. “Well, that’s new.” They said, wiping the rest of the glass off their clothes.
The man shook with rage, eyes darting around to room, ready to grab something else to shut them up.
“Seems like you’re getting impatient, so I’ll get to the point—”
The figure stood up and slammed their hands on the table.
“I’ve had enough of your bullshit, Tony.”
The mysterious figure took a deep breath and ran a hand through their hair.
“What happened? I seem to recall you saying you’d never be bossed around by a woman,” Their hands shook as they gripped the table.
“And if you had any pride as a man, you’d do the right thing and my—no, our money back, and I know just how to do it. There's this really good offer in Yuen Long, an associate of mine’s just got a big opium shipment coming in and—
“No”
The figure muttered something under their breath and sighed. But, before they could say another word, Tony continued.
“Not falling in your trap again.
You told me we were here to discuss business, not for you to try and spin me back into your crap." Tony paused.
"I'll repeat this one last time.
I'm done with this so-called business, I'm done with fighting and I'm done with you.
The money was my rightful cut of the profit; we both agreed upon it.
It is shameful for you to not follow your prom—”
“Shut up, shut up, just shut the fuck up!” The figure shouted, slamming their fists against the table.
“You don’t get it, do you? They’re gonna figure it out sooner or later, and you’ll be dead before you know it. Just give me the money and let’s get outta here. I really don’t want to see you in this kind of danger.”
“Who the fuck are they? Aren't you the boss?
Look— Just fucking let it go.
The city is no longer scared of you and neither am I"
Tony stood up.
"Don't you ever dare search me or her."
As Tony started to walk away a hand grabbed him by the collar of his jacket; the silhouette was pulling him back.
He tried to grab it's hand and twist it, so they would let go.
The silhouette didn't budge, instead tightening it's grip and pulling Tony back, slamming him into the table.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Tony. Don't you remember the oath you swore? Everything it cost me to get you in here? The way I see it, you still owe me.” The figure sneered, holding Tony up and then pushing him against a wall.
“About them let's just say I made a little deal with some mainland contacts. In simple terms: they want you and your unprecedented efficency.
So let's summarize: You will get the money, come with me and everything will be business as usual once again.
And just to put it out there: The guys in the mainland are monsters, even that's understating it.
There's no word for what they do to those who conspire against them, Tony."
Tony felt fear sink in. The force he was holding against the silhouettes' grip loosened.
They chuckled.
"I'm gonna guess that's a yes. As obedient as ever."
Slowly, they let go of the now distressed collar of the leather jacket.
A punch hit Tony's jaw and threw him to the ground. A final hit to get the message through.
"Go find the money, Tony.
And pray I never find her."
Tony clenched his fists as his blood boiled. He got to his feet and took a wild swing at the figure. But the punch never landed.
Tony’s vision cleared, just in time to see a glittery haze wrapped around his arm, holding it in place.
“Don’t make me repeat myself, Tony. Get the money. Now”
Tony struggled to try and free himself; he only had a few drinks—all of them pretty watered down—so just what was this thing? Based on the way the figure’s actions and the haze’s tightening grip were synced, it was pretty clear the former controlled the latter.
The figure paused as he watched Tony continue trying to wrench himself free.
“What, you can actually see it?” The figure asked incredulously as he continued trying to wrench himself free.
“So, you’ve got it in you after all! Shame yours never developed though.”
Tony heard them laugh as a right cross connected with his face, followed by a hook that sent him sprawling to the ground. His mind was racing as he felt something pull him back up.
What were they talking about? Were those stories about the old spirits of the Walled City real? Then, why would they think he’d develop one? Desperate to fight back, Tony threw a kick at the figure’s side and the haze’s grip loosened.
Pulling himself free, Tony’s blind hook grazed the figure— but they grabbed the back of his neck and slammed him face first into the edge of a nearby table.
The figure looked back at the crowd behind them, and four men glanced back.
A subtle nod signaled them to approach the scene, and Tony was forced to his knees, face forced into the table and completely restrained.
The figure leaned in to inspect Tony’s face and winced.
"Oof, that’ll definitely leave a mark."
The figure said as they trailed a finger down the open, bleeding wound on the restrained man's face. Tony had to bit the inside of his mouth just to keep quiet.
"You’re not planning on cooperating at all, huh?"
Tony struggled to free his body, muttering curses under his breath.
"It's a shame really. I thought you'd be smarter than this. My guys will have a lot of fun hunting her down."
They smiled and waved their hand towards the venue's door; three of the men left, leaving the last one to hold Tony in place.
Tony felt his heart race as he saw the men leave, the words echoed in his mind. Tears formed as he violently tried to free himself from the man's grip.
The figure watched the scene, amused by the usually stern and composed young man breaking down in front of him.
A man who never showed any sign of vulnerability, crying because of his one weakness.
Satisfied, the figure nodded, and the man holding Tony down let him go.
In an instant, the sobbing, bloodied man scrambled to his feet and raced to the door. Those three didn’t leave too long ago. If he hurried, he might be able to catch them.
The moment he set foot outside the club, the sound of a gunshot was drowned out by the cheers of the crowd inside, as a young man, half-naked and wearing tight pants came on stage and approached the dancing young woman.
And the floor show went on.
As if nothing happened.