The rain in Mong Kok didn't fall; it assaulted. It was a greasy, lukewarm deluge that turned the neon signs of Nathan Road into bleeding smears of red and green. It washed the grime from the upper stories of the towering tenements only to deposit it in the overflowing gutters below. The air was a thick soup of wet concrete, frying oil, and the faint, metallic tang of desperation.
Kai Jin stood under the tattered awning of a dai pai dong, the steam from a nearby noodle cart clinging to his leather jacket. He wasn't Kai Jin here. He was Jin Kai. A name he'd shed like a skin two years ago when he graduated at the top of his class at the police academy. Now, he was pulling it back on, and it felt tight, wrong, like a suit he'd outgrown.
He watched the entrance to the "Red Lotus Mahjong Parlour" across the street. A flickering sign, a narrow staircase leading up into darkness. It was a Wo Shing Society collection point. His target.
Breathe. In. Out. He wasn't a cop right now. He was a product of these streets. He let the posture settle in—a slight slouch, the wary, calculating flick of his eyes, the tension in his jaw that spoke of a readiness for violence. He flexed his hands, the knuckles scarred from a childhood of alleyway brawls and years of relentless training. His sergeant's words echoed in his mind: "You're not going in to be a hero, Kai. You're going in to be a ghost. You listen, you learn, you become one of them. And when you have the whole rotten structure in your hands, you squeeze."
A figure emerged from the mahjong parlour, shaking a cigarette from a crumpled pack. He was thin, all sharp angles and nervous energy, clad in a cheap, flashy tracksuit. Lok.
A ghost of a smile touched Kai's lips. Not a cop's smile. A brother's.
He crossed the street, the rain plastering his hair to his forehead. He came up behind Lok just as he was struggling with a cheap plastic lighter.
"Still can't get a light when you need one, eh, Lok?"
Lok spun around, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and fear that quickly hardened into defensive aggression. Then, recognition dawned. "Jin? Jin Kai? No way. You... you vanished."
"Went to the Mainland," Kai said, the lie smooth and practiced. "Family business. Didn't work out." He pulled out his own Zippo, a solid, heavy thing, and lit Lok's cigarette with a steady hand.
Lok took a deep drag, his eyes searching Kai's face. "Family business? You and me, we were the only family we had. What kind of business?"
"The kind that leaves a sour taste," Kai said, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I heard you're doing okay for yourself. Connected."
Lok puffed out his chest slightly. "I get by. I'm with the Wo Shing. A Blue Lantern, but... I have the ear of some important people."
"I need work, Lok. I'm back. I have no money, no friends."
"You were always the best fighter in the back-alleys," Lok mused, a calculating glint in his eye. "That still true?"
"I haven't gotten softer."
"Good." Lok dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his heel. "Because you just walked into a shitstorm. Come on. Time to prove you're not a cop."
Lok led him up the narrow, dimly lit staircase. The smell of cigarette smoke, stale beer, and sweat intensified. The sound of clattering mahjong tiles and raised Cantonese voices grew louder. They entered a large, hazy room. Through the gloom, Kai could see a dozen tables, men hunched over their games, money stacked carelessly beside cups of tea. Two large, thuggish men stood by a back-room door—Sai Lo's men.
Before Lok could say another word, the back-room door burst open. A man, his face a bloody mess, was thrown out onto the floor, sliding through the sawdust. He was followed by a mountain. A man so large he seemed to block out the light from the room behind him. It was Sai Lo, the Vanguard. His head was shaved, his neck thick as a tree trunk. He cracked his knuckles, the sound like snapping twigs.
"This piece of trash," Sai Lo's voice was a low rumble, "thought he could skim from the Wo Shing. From me." He looked around the room, his gaze passing over Kai without interest. "Anyone else have any bright ideas?"
The man on the floor whimpered, trying to get to his knees. "Please, Sai Lo, it was a mistake! I'll make it right!"
Sai Lo gestured to one of his men, who handed him a wooden baseball bat. The room fell silent, the only sound the frantic scraping of mahjong tiles as games hastily concluded.
This was the test. Not a spoken one, but a visceral one. Kai knew if he stood by and did nothing, he'd be just another scared face in the crowd. He'd never get in. But if he intervened, he risked everything.
Then he saw Lok, pale and trembling, looking at him with a desperate plea. The beaten man was one of Lok's crew. Lok had vouched for him, and his failure was Lok's failure.
Kai took a half-step forward. "Sai Lo."
The giant's head swivelled towards him. The room held its breath.
"This is my first day," Kai said, his voice calm, level. "I don't know the rules. But it seems to me a dead man can't pay back what he owes."
Sai Lo's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Oh? And who are you?"
"A friend of Lok's. Jin Kai." He kept his hands loose at his sides, his weight perfectly balanced on the balls of his feet. "Let me talk to him. If he doesn't pay double by tomorrow, you can have both of us."
Sai Lo laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "I like your balls, little man. But we don't do things on credit here." He pointed the bat at Kai. "You want to save your friend's friend? Fine. Take his beating for him. Three swings. You stay standing, you all walk out. You fall, you all get carried out."
It was a barbaric, no-win scenario. But in the world of the Wo Shing, it was currency. It was respect.
Kai nodded slowly. "Okay."
He walked to the center of the room, ignoring Lok's frantic whispers. He didn't adopt a fighting stance. He just stood, his body relaxed, his eyes locked on Sai Lo's. He was calculating the angle, the force. He wouldn't block it; the bat would shatter his arms. He would have to move with it, absorb and redirect the energy. It was a gamble with his life.
Sai Lo didn't hesitate. He swung the bat in a wide, powerful arc aimed at Kai's ribs.
Time seemed to slow. Kai exhaled, turning his body slightly, letting the bat glance off his leather-clad side. The impact was brutal, a thunderclap of pain that stole his breath, but he rode the force, spinning with it, staying on his feet. A gasp went through the room.
Sai Lo grunted, surprised. He swung again, lower this time, aiming for the knees.
Kai jumped, the bat whistling harmlessly beneath his feet. He landed, a little unsteady, the pain in his side a blazing fire.
The third swing was a furious, overhead blow meant to crush his skull.
This was the one. Kai couldn't dodge it completely. He raised his left forearm, not to block, but to guide. As the bat descended, he met it with a circular, deflecting motion, his other hand slapping against the wood to rob it of its full power. The bat slammed into his shoulder, and white-hot agony exploded through his nervous system. His legs buckled, but he forced them straight, gritting his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. He stood, swaying, but standing.
The room was utterly silent.
Sai Lo stared at him, the bat hanging loosely in his hand. He saw the pain in Kai's eyes, but also the unbreakable will. He saw a weapon.
He dropped the bat with a clatter. "You have until tomorrow. Double." He turned to Lok. "Your friend has balls of steel, Lok. Maybe you're not completely useless after all." He then looked back at Kai, a new, appraising light in his eyes. "Welcome to the Wo Shing, Jin Kai. Don't make me regret this."
As Sai Lo and his men disappeared back into the office, Lok rushed forward, catching Kai as his knees finally gave way.
"Are you insane?" Lok hissed, his voice a mixture of awe and terror.
Kai clutched his screaming shoulder, the taste of blood in his mouth from a bitten cheek. He looked at the terrified faces around him, at the bloody sawdust on the floor. He was in.
He was a ghost. And the shadows of the Wo Shing Society had just welcomed him home.