The afternoon sun had softened from its midday blaze, settling into a gentle warmth. In the locker room, Hong Fei sat on a bench by the window, his shirt draped over his knees as he finished changing.
The light streaming through the window caught the white dragon tattoo coiled around his torso, its intricate details illuminated against his skin. The dragon's head rested just below his collarbone, its eyes closed, as if in deep slumber. The fin-like ridges along its body had faded, leaving it looking more like a living creature than mere ink.
He wasn't exactly the poster boy for a proper Police officer, but at least the tattoo was a white dragon—less gangster vibes, though still not what you'd call wholesome. The real issue wasn't the tattoo.
Hong Fei's gaze dropped to the inside of his left forearm, where delicate, overlapping markings had begun to emerge beneath his skin. They were scales—dragon scales—shimmering faintly with a golden hue. He thought back to the dragon egg he'd consumed, the one that belonged to Shou-Lao the Undying.
The Ancient One had drawn a magic circle to encapsulate the egg, claiming it would allow for gradual digestion and absorption. Apparently, the magic circle was working a little too well. Scales? Great. Turning into a dragon-man? Not so much. The last thing he wanted was to end up looking like some kind of swamp creature. It wasn't just about aesthetics—ruining his flawless looks was downright unacceptable. But for now, he was stuck with it.
The door creaked open, interrupting his thoughts. Hong Fei glanced over his shoulder to see Cora peeking in, her eyebrow arched as she took in the sight of him shirtless. She whistled low, grinning like a troublemaker on a street corner.
"Nice body, and that tattoo's a knockout. Where'd you get it done? Hook me up?"
Hong Fei pulled on his shirt, buttoning it up as he replied dryly, "Aren't you worried I wasn't wearing pants?"
"Should I be?"
Cora leaned against the doorframe, her smirk widening.
"It's not like I haven't seen it before."
"On TV?" he shot back.
"You're selling me short," she said with a laugh. "I've even played with it."
Hong Fei winced internally, picturing Sergeant Neil's chubby face glowing with an imaginary green light. He grabbed his jacket and duty belt, heading for the door with his hat in hand.
"Let's go. How late are we on tonight?"
Cora turned, hands on her belt, chest puffed out in her signature confident stance.
"Shift starts at 4:30. Eight hours with a one-hour break in the middle. Thoughts?"
"1:30 AM," Hong Fei replied.
"Wow, you're that quick with the math?" she teased.
"Hah."
Hong Fei wasn't in the mood to banter further. He needed to keep his guard up—Cora had a knack for finding openings he didn't even know existed.
They climbed into the car, Cora pulling her seatbelt snugly across her chest. She frowned, tugging at the strap.
"Hmm... can't this thing be looser? It's digging in."
Hong Fei kept his eyes on the road as he pulled onto the street.
"You weren't complaining last time."
"Don't drive too fast," she warned. "We've got over twenty minutes before shift starts. Showing up early is bad luck."
Hong Fei eased off the gas, humoring her.
"Why's that?"
"Rookie," she said, shaking her head. "It's Police tradecraft. You don't rush to work, and you don't rush to leave. You can think it, but you can't say it, and you certainly can't do it. Otherwise, you'll end up neck-deep in trouble, and forget about rest—you'll be working nonstop for days, maybe months."
"Like how Doctors can't say 'it's quiet today'?" Hong Fei asked.
"Exactly," Cora confirmed.
"Same principle."
"What if I accidentally say it?" he pressed, his tone daring.
Cora grinned.
"Then you'd better pray you're ready for the fallout."
Cora's hand drifted toward her holster.
"Then I'll put a bullet between your eyes and make it look like you died on duty."
"Never mind," Hong Fei conceded.
Their cruiser crawled along the curb. No impatient horns sounded behind them—just passing drivers stealing indifferent glances before moving on.
When they spotted fellow officers directing traffic, a quick tap of the horn earned them cheerful waves. But their patrol zone hugged the station too closely. Even at this snail's pace, the drive wouldn't last twenty minutes. As the station loomed ahead, Cora broke the silence.
She jabbed a finger at a roadside café.
"Pull up by that door."
Engine off, Hong Fei adjusted his duty belt, donned shades and cap, then fell into step beside Cora.
"Grab us two coffees—I'm not picky—while I snag a pizza. We'll eat at the entrance before heading out."
Hong Fei blinked.
"They won't throw us out?"
Cora's lip curled.
"They can try. My sidearm disagrees, and the union would skin them alive."
"Fair enough," Hong Fei nodded.
Soon they lounged by the café entrance, leisurely working through their meal. No staff intervened. Pedestrians kept their eyes forward—whether from disinterest or self-preservation. Stare too long, and Hong Fei might offer a polite smile, but Cora? She'd knock your teeth out without hesitation.
Afterward, a simple "I perceived threatening behavior" would let her walk away scot-free, leaving you with nothing but bruises and regret. Cops who knew the game played it well.
Cora checked her watch, shoved the last pizza crust in her mouth, and stood.
"Move it. I'm warming the car."
Hong Fei scarfed his remaining bites and followed five seconds later. Sliding into the passenger seat, Cora reclined slightly, rubbing her stomach.
"Same drill—slow laps first."
"Got it."
The cruiser rolled out unimpeded. Only when evening traffic swelled did Cora straighten, eyes tracking the river of taillights.
Nightfall brought foot patrols. Hong Fei stifled a yawn. If this was the daily grind, no wonder most cops needed decades to climb the ranks.
Were Cora not constantly eyeing his mouth like he might sprout fangs, he'd test the infamous "no-busy curse" right now. At least he had competent subordinates lined up—future boredom wasn't a concern.
Cora's gaze flicked his way again.
Hong Fei exhaled through his nose.
"Quit the weird looks. I'm not saying it."
She shrugged, turned away—then peeked back three seconds later. Hong Fei swallowed another sigh. Some people just couldn't help themselves.
The neighborhood started strong, its proximity to downtown keeping sidewalks clean and council vanity projects polished. But as they ventured further, the veneer cracked.
In every alleyway, clusters of men gathered—three here, five there. They were usually huddled around a tin barrel or metal trash can, feeding flames with whatever would burn—scraps of wood, discarded fabrics, anything that produced towering fire and choking black smoke. Hong Fei mused that environmental activists should divert some funding to witness these human smokestacks firsthand.
They should give these men the same pitch they used for the media—simple terms for simple minds. If they could actually convince them to stop polluting, it'd be a miracle. That bitter little firebrand would do nicely; her razor-edged tone might just scour their souls clean.
Her backup wouldn't hurt either. If anyone failed their persuasion attempt—or got beaten bloody for it—Officer Hong guaranteed retribution. As the cops approached, the group's raucous laughter cut off mid-breath. Heads ducked toward the flames or jerked away entirely.
The few who dared meet their gazes didn't push further.
Cora snorted.
"Don't waste brain cells worrying about this lot. Half are gangbangers, the rest are just kids playing tough. They sit through algebra by day, then come here at night to cosplay as thugs around a bonfire."
She smirked.
"Might feel cool to them. Everyone else knows they're jokes."
Night crept deeper, temperatures plummeting. Cora rubbed her arms absently.
"Thick jacket in the car," Hong Fei said.
"Since when?"
"Trunk. Put it there myself."
"Good call."
She exhaled sharply.
"Let's grab it. Freezing our asses off won't help anyone."
Back at the cruiser, the trunk yawned open. Cora unbuckled her duty belt with stiff fingers and shrugged into the jacket. Instant relief smoothed her scowl.
"Another one in there," she noted. "You're not taking it?"
Hong Fei shook his head.
"Not cold—"
Headlights flared behind them. A second squad car rolled up, horn blaring twice.
They turned as the vehicle halted alongside theirs. The passenger window slid down, revealing a grinning white officer in his thirties. Behind him sat the ever-stoic Sergeant Neil and two others.
"Hey, Cora!"
The passenger leered.
"How's traffic duty treating you? Need me to bring a scarf next time? You look like a popsicle."
Cora's face darkened. Her eyes blazed.
"Charles. You hunting for a beating today?"
The man's grin faltered but held.
"What? Just saying—casework's been smooth without you. Sergeant Neil's practically bored without your—"
A muffled thud cut him off as Neil's boot connected with the seatback. Charles coughed and shut up.
Cora's glare eased slightly. She glanced at Neil.
The sergeant offered a small smile. "Ignore him. We've made progress, yes, but focus on your current assignment."
His gaze slid to Hong Fei.
"You too, kid. Keep at it. I'm watching."
Silence.
Every face—including Hong Fei's behind Cora—froze in shock.
But Neil didn't feel anything unusual at all and maintained his usual detached composure. He nodded to the driver.
"Move out, Grey."
The twenty-something driver blinked.
"Right. Yeah. On it." The engine roared as they peeled away.
Hong Fei craned forward, studying Cora's expression.
The man's gaze was chilling—more twisted and violent than even the ghost Hong Fei had encountered at the hotel days ago. Cora clenched her teeth, her voice sharp.
"What's he implying? That their case-solving speed magically improved without me?"
Hong Fei shook his head silently. He had no desire to get caught in the crossfire or stir up more trouble. Survival was already complicated enough.
Cora whirled around, her piercing eyes locking onto Hong Fei.
"Kid, it's your time to shine."
Hong Fei blinked, caught off guard.
"Me?"
"Exactly. You want to spend tonight wandering aimlessly until your shift ends, don't you?"
His answer was immediate: no, he didn't.
"But if we're idle, doesn't that mean no crimes are happening? Isn't that a good thing?" he asked, his tone laced with genuine confusion.
Cora stepped closer, her presence overwhelming, her chest nearly brushing against his.
"Wrong! Just because we're idle doesn't mean crimes aren't happening—it just means we haven't spotted them yet."
It was an intriguing perspective, but Hong Fei couldn't shake his skepticism. If they hadn't seen it, they hadn't seen it. Searching blindly in a sprawling city seemed futile.
"If we can't find them, then we'll make them find us," Cora declared, her confidence radiating. Hong Fei almost wondered if she'd read his thoughts.
"How?"
She grinned, her smile brimming with the thrill of breaking rules.
"Let's try that curse."
Hong Fei's eyebrow shot up, a flicker of excitement stirring in his chest.
"Seriously?"
"Absolutely!"
"Then... you go first?"
"No, I'm an old Police officer; the effect of the curse might be a little weaker, so leave it to you."
"This..."
"Don't hesitate, just do it! I've known for a while you've been itching to try."
"Then I won't hold back?"
"Absolutely don't hold back—let it all out!"