Manila Bay, early dawn. The skyline shimmered through a thin fog. Don Eduardo leaned on a rusted railing along the pier, a cigarette burning low between his fingers.
Catalina Zhou stood beside him, holding an old photograph. It showed a much younger version of her, dressed in high fashion, smiling beside a man with a snake tattoo — Victor Liang.
"He wasn't always a monster," she murmured. "But power changes people. And in Macau, power devours."
Eduardo looked at her. "Why come to the Philippines?"
"I ran," she said flatly. "But not just from Victor… from myself. But now I realize, running's over."
She reached into her purse and handed Eduardo a poker chip — not just any chip. Black. No logo. No serial number.
"What's this?"
"The last piece of the Black Deck," she said. "The Triad's original kill order system. Fifty-two chips. Fifty-two names. I used to guard them. Until I stole the final card."
Eduardo pocketed it. "What card is it?"
She met his eyes.
"The Ace of Spades. Whoever holds it commands the rest."
A pause.
Then footsteps approached.
"Señor Montefalco," came a familiar American voice.
Eduardo turned to see Tommy Brown, grinning, tan as ever, in a leather jacket. Behind him: James Smith, silent and serious, and Harry Williams, tapping a portable radio.
"Juan sent us," Tommy said. "He's in the South, but he's watching everything. Said you'd need backup soon."
Eduardo grinned. "About time."
Harry nodded. "He also sent this."
He handed over a mini-recorder. Eduardo played it.
Juan Cariño Hernández's voice came through:
> "Eduardo, Macau isn't just about drugs or money. It's about a game — a power game. Liang thinks he's dealing with scattered enemies. Let's prove him wrong. I'll handle the south routes. You hit their moneyline. I'll contact Maria soon. Stay sharp."
Eduardo pocketed the recorder.
"So," James said. "What's next?"
Eduardo looked at Catalina, then the city beyond.
"We fly to Macau," he said. "And we bring hell with us."