Undaunted by the infamous siblings’ piercing gaze, General Denzhen held his ground. His curly hair, slick with sweat, spoke of a tiresome journey. The lift for this part of the groundscraper only ascended to the 32nd floor; the Luen headquarters were six more strenuous levels above, accessible only via the stairs. Each step left Denzhen cursing the Luens under his breath.

  The siblings stood on a short dais a step above the rest, commanding the central room of their headquarters. It also doubled as a games room, its air heavy with scented smoke and the rustle of playing cards. Classical central Kowlooni melodies crooned from small speakers littered around the room. Gangsters lounged, some casting sidelong glances at the general, while others ignored his presence, engrossed in their games or puffing away on their pipes.

  The room was a marvel of classical design – vases standing tall, rich tapestries adorning the walls, and opulent curtains. Spotlights studded in the ceiling, illuminating the pastel orange walls and the off-white stone-tiled floor to create a mesmerising interplay of light and shadow.

  Lok Luen’s sardonic voice rang out. ‘One of the legendary Dragons of Yu graces us humble Ji Sia with his presence; to what do we owe this pleasure, General Denzhen?’ Lok Luen was the elder brother of Ying Luen and the Lord of District Yau. He and his sister famously co-owned the Ji Sia gang. Lok represented District Yau at major meetings, was the spokesperson for interviews and speeches, and most importantly, his imposing stern figure could keep everyone in check. But behind the scenes, Ying Luen made all the important calls, her brother merely relaying her wisdoms through a male voice. For those who knew, Ying was the one to truly fear. And Denzhen knew that all too well.

  ‘I am here to apologise on behalf of Truong, Gonjjuo, Joshu, and Keung,’ General Denzhen stated, his voice a rumble of authority, yet his posture one of humility.

  Ying acknowledged the names with a nod. She stood beside her brother, arms crossed, wearing a Kevlar vest over a skin-tight, long-sleeve compression shirt with white and grey camouflage print, black cargo pants and pristine white boots. Her hair was dyed a light green, its left side shaven and covered in laser-etched tattoos. ‘It’s intriguing your own son is entwined in this debacle. Hasn’t made it easy for us to blindly demand justice.’

  Her voice was measured and composed, bearing the quiet authority of District Yau’s true power behind the doors. But Denzhen had to make sure that fact wouldn’t lead him to underestimating Lok, either.

  Like his sister, Lok also wore a Kevlar over skin-tight, compression under-garments, the toned muscles of his arms showing years of gym training. He wore white pants instead of grey, with the same camouflage pattern. His long, voluminous, dreadlocked hair dropped to his ankles behind him, a few bundles of dreads dyed in vibrant colours. They both wore their vests with pride – the Luen Kevlar, a gift from the Yaozhi Dynasty to the Luen family upon their ascension to lordship many generations ago.

  ‘What the hell happened, General? Jian was owed to us!’ Lok exclaimed, his gaze drilling into Denzhen. ‘Jian died in our country, thanks to intel given by our men. Do laws and customs mean nothing to you Kingmakers?’

  The room grew silent as all those present listened to Lok’s frustrated speech.

  ‘Of course not, Lok,’ Denzhen murmured, his head down.

  ‘When South Kowloon rose up against the Yaozhi Dynasty twenty-five annui-cycles ago, General, District Yau was among the first to answer the Kingmakers’ call to war. Our father closed his eyes and allowed the late Emperor Guangxu to lead our district through massacre after massacre. We bled for you! Now, two decades after the rebellion’s end, what has been our reward? When the Yangs were ravaging our capital city, what did your people do? You launched a bullshit operation that forever made us an enemy of the south! You ignored Ying’s warning of an impending terror attack and when the bombings finally happened, the Kingmakers were nowhere to be seen! But finally, with Jian’s fucking corpse, we had a chance to claim a victory over the Yangs. Instead, we faced the ultimate humiliation… at the hands of our closest ally no less! How does that make us look, General? Weak! This is an embarrassment, a humiliation!’ Lok thundered. Finally, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  Ying placed her hand on her brother’s arm in an obviously placatory gesture.

  General Denzhen bowed his head deeper in acknowledgement, frowning in shame. He remained in that position for a full minute before lifting his gaze to meet theirs once more.

  ‘I assure you, Lok, weakness is not a trait associated with the Ji Sia. Your loyalty to us and the Kingmakers has never been questioned, and your people are known throughout Kowloon for their unmatched resilience. Nevertheless, it’s clear our efforts to maintain a fair relationship haven’t been good enough.’

  The general could almost hear the cogs of Lok’s mind turning, sensing the collective anticipation of the room as the leader of the Ji Sia gang pursed his lips and whispered something to his sister. Denzhen continued, ‘I didn’t journey here to justify the misdeeds of those three men, nor my son for that fact, but to make amends. To bridge the divide their indiscretions have caused. If it clears up any misunderstanding, I assure you all four individuals were acting of their own volition and not on any Kingmaker order, official or otherwise.’

  Ying nodded slowly, leaning in to whisper something back to her brother. A murmur rippled through the room, the weight of the general’s words sinking in. Denzhen realised the assumption that the four had been acting on Emperor Puyin’s orders had been stronger than he’d thought, which explained the vitriol the siblings held towards the Kingmakers.

  ‘Whatever the reality may be, we Kingmakers bear the burden of these men’s actions. For their shortcomings, the Emperor extends his most sincere apologies. Allow me to personally apologise for the behaviour of my son as well. I recognise the tribulations you’ve been facing, especially after… the bombings of last annui-cycle. But I assure you this situation has cost us much more than you may think. My son’s actions, and those of the three other Kingmakers, have created challenges within our ranks, consequences that demand secrecy. I feel it is only fair you are privy to the realities we have faced since that night.’

  ‘Oh?’ Ying asked, raising an eyebrow. While she appeared intrigued by what he was about to reveal, her brother Lok scrunched his face into a scowl.

  ‘Challenges for the Kings?!’ Lok exclaimed. ‘Are you kidding me?! How exactly have you become victims of a situation your own people created?’

  ‘What I’m about to share must remain strictly confidential, I can’t stress that enough…’ Denzhen began, glancing at the spectators lingering on the fringes of the room but unwilling to pressure the siblings to grant his request.

  Ying’s eyes narrowed and then she raised a hand. ‘One second, General.’ Scanning the room, she boomed in a commanding voice, ‘Everyone out!’

  Instantly, the classical central Kowlooni music ceased, the occupants rose, and the room emptied, leaving only the Luen siblings, the general, and the faint aroma of scented smoke behind.

  ‘Apologies, General. We take secrets seriously. Please, proceed.’

  Denzhen appreciated the sibling’s thoughtfulness, his hard expression softening.

  ‘Thank you, Ying. The unfortunate truth is that the altercation between the four turned fatal. One Kingmaker has since passed to the Light, just a few hours ago. We’ve attempted to hide this, but Light knows for how long it’ll remain under wraps.’

  This news changed everything. Lok sucked in an audible breath and started pacing back and forth, deep in thought. Ying’s expression tightened. ‘Was it your son, General?’ she asked, concern in her voice.

  ‘Fortunately, no. It was Truong, another of the Kingmakers involved. As you’re aware, we’ve derived no gains from this incident. So, I plead for your understanding of our predicament, for the benefit of our districts.’

  ‘This doesn’t bode well for you Kingmakers,’ Lok’s voice echoed through the room as he continued pacing. ‘There will be whispering in the streets if people find out a King has died. Rest assured, the Yangs will use this news to further undermine Kingmaker authority.’

  ‘We are aware. The incident was highly regrettable and should never have happened,’ Denzhen reiterated. ‘The remaining culprits will face due justice. But we must tread with care to ensure no political disarray festers between our districts… or ourselves.’

  Lok abruptly halted his pacing and turned to face the general, his frown deeper than before.

  ‘Justice?’ he spat, ‘The Emperor has a track record of letting the Kings do whatever they want! Any “justice” afterwards is nothing more than a slap on the wrist.’

  Ying, her hand resting on her hip, conveyed her agreement with a simple nod, her proud gaze riveted on her brother as he continued.

  ‘And that’s assuming whichever district you Kingmakers offended is important enough! I suppose we’re lucky to be that important, huh General? To have the Kingmakers ask for forgiveness, let alone have a great Dragon here in person, makes us wonder how much is really at stake here. Not that it matters; no district in Kowloon has any real bargaining powers over the Kingmakers and the Emperor. Because everyone in Kowloon knows the moment we lords and ladies become too argumentative, we are replaced with a more… cooperative leadership, isn’t that right, General? A royal regicide. That’s how our family became the lords of Yau eight generations ago. So, who are we but usurpers of lords that stopped appeasing the Yaozhi’s? When should we begin to worry about usurpers coming after us? Clearly, our options are limited; we can only hope a benevolent ear in Yu will listen to our grievances.’

  ‘You are heard, Lok and Ying,’ the general replied, his voice earnest. ‘But we can offer nothing more than profound apologies. If you wish to know how we intend to discipline the offenders, I assume it will involve detention and beatings, with a repeat of mandatory Kingmaker conditioning.’

  ‘Does this extend to your son, Keung?’ Lok probed.

  General Denzhen forced himself to remain impassive as he responded, ‘No, Lok. The surviving two members gave him a savage beating. I’m unaware of the extent of his injuries, but he is confined to bed rest, a sign the assault was far beyond our standard punishments. That alone is far more than what he deserved for his crime. It’s clear Keung has suffered more than any official discipline would have dealt.’

  While it was true General Denzhen felt no need to punish someone who had already paid their dues, he would never allow his son to be beaten by anyone, irrespective of the circumstances. He was merely lucky a convenient excuse had presented itself.

  ‘I see,’ Ying said after some silence. ‘Then there isn’t much else to discuss. I imagine the Yangs will go back to harassing us as soon as they recover from Jian’s death, and we will just have to cope.’

  ‘If it means anything,’ Denzhen said as he locked eyes with Ying, ‘Jian’s death may serve as a reminder to the rest of Kowloon that the Yangs are not invincible, especially their leadership. I wager they will tread more carefully around District Yau, knowing how serious Jian’s loss was.’

  ‘We would also like to take part in this ‘wager’, General. But these are the lives of our brothers and sisters and we can’t treat this threat with such flippancy. Perhaps it’s easier to make gambles from the fortified heights of Kowloon’s grandest tower, but we can’t afford to drop our guard on mere presumptions. For now, we need to increase our street presence and ensure this embarrassing situation doesn’t embolden the Yangs.’

  ‘I am sorry, Ying. I don’t mean to sound like I am making light of your predicament. The Yangs have been Kowloon’s primary threat since the Yau Bombings, and we Kingmakers will not stop hunting them to extinction. Jian’s hideout in Ji Sia City yielded a trove of good leads, which includes possible new information on the Ibilis. Their days are numbered.’

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  ‘Did you say the Ibilis?’ Ying’s eyes ignited with fresh resolve. ‘Then we make one request,’ she said, the rising tempo of her voice reflecting her eagerness. ‘Share intel with our special investigations team and permit them to come on board with the Kingmakers hunting the Yang. Let them help you help us.’

  ‘I’m sorry. That’s asking a great deal. Our operations have always been confidential to all outsiders. This approach has never failed us.’

  ‘Except it has,’ Lok countered. ‘You’ve failed to rein in the ghosts of the rebellions, a war that was quelled over twenty-five annui-cycles ago! We are owed knowledge of this investigation as we bear the brunt of their actions. Don’t be unreasonable, General. We aren’t asking to be made Emperor. This is the most obvious solution for us both.’

  The general’s brows knitted together as he shook his head. ‘You may as well ask to become Emperor! We cannot afford any vulnerabilities, and the Ji Sia are the largest gangster organisation in all of Kowloon, making it ripe for leaks. Maintaining Kowloon’s balance means respecting our stable operations. Our desire for secrecy isn’t mere caprice but a necessity for everyone’s survival.’

  Ying fired back with a hint of sass, ‘Must I remind you how seriously we take secrets? Yes, our numbers are vast, but didn’t we mention only our special investigative team would be involved? Not a single soul in the Ji Sia gang is privy to what happens within their operations except for the eight team members themselves, and I. Even Lok doesn’t know the intricacies of our work.’

  Lok nodded. ‘She speaks the truth.’

  ‘And what is this team called, Ying?’

  ‘Surely you have heard of our Tai Li squad?’

  The mention of the Tai Li brought the general’s thoughts back to the chilling events that culminated in the devastating Yau Bombings last annui-cycle. The Yang had demonstrated a frightening capacity to coordinate cells across multiple districts, revealing that their network of collaborators extended throughout Kowloon. Their actions showed they were capable of executing complex, large-scale plans with chilling precision.

  Yang militants had abducted the son of a prominent noble from District Yau, swiftly transferring him between cells until he was hidden away at a secret location deep in South Kowloon. The elite Tai Li squad was close behind, relentlessly pursuing the kidnappers. However, by the time they successfully rescued the child, several densely populated precincts in Ji Sia City were left vulnerable, stripped of the protective surveillance normally provided by the Tai Li. It was then that the Ibilis publicly declared vengeance against the Luen siblings, and moments later, five major groundscrapers erupted in simultaneous suicide attacks. Tens of thousands were killed, and many more remain missing to this day. It was the first attack of its kind, an assault on Kowloon that was incomprehensible until it unfolded before everyone’s eyes.

  Despite the tragedy, everyone knew the truth; had the Tai Li been on duty in Ji Sia City as usual, the bombings would’ve never happened. Until this gross failure, many had dared to compare the Tai Li’s new and rising accolades to established Kingmaker excellence. Now, their legacy was marred by the Yau Bombings and their subsequent disbandment.

  But apparently not the latter, Denzhen mused. Although their competence was undeniable, skill and ability were not the reasons the general refused Ying’s offer. The real concern was the possible leak of sensitive information, such as Kingmaker strategies, resources, and intelligence. But if the world still believed the Tai Li had disbanded, this risk might not be as worrisome.

  ‘I thought you two abandoned that project. Why are they still active?’

  Ying and Lok remained silent.

  ‘Then perhaps it’s best I don’t know,’ the general sighed. ‘So be it. I’ll contact the team investigating the Yangs and let them know they will be collaborating with the Tai Li. However, keep in mind this is not a cooperative group project; the investigation will remain on our terms, and the knowledge shared as well. Tell your Tai Li not to expect camaraderie. Any information they uncover must be disclosed to the Kings working alongside them. Are my conditions clear?’ The general refused to compromise on this serious matter. He saw it as an advantageous relationship for both sides, rather than a pity deal.

  The siblings gazed at each other, Ying giving her brother a subtle nod. Finally, Lok turned back to the general. ‘It appears we’re left with no other choice.’

  ‘If you accept the terms, along with the Emperor’s apologies and my personal one, I will take my leave. Send your Tai Li to the tower at your earliest convenience, someone will see to them. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to see my son.’

  ‘Of course, general,’ Lok said, while Ying nodded. They both bowed, after which General Denzhen made a dignified departure.

  The King rail hurtled through the dark tunnel, streaks of light from outside the windows occasionally illuminating Yutai and Shing as they sat perched on opposing seats, each lost in their own thoughts. Yutai looked up at Shing. His short-cropped hair was combed forward, a small fringe sitting neatly across his forehead. He had his classic ‘I am a gift to the world’ expression on his face, his legs stretched out in front of him and arms behind his head.

  ‘Do you know what project is being approved in Kam Shan, Shing?’

  ‘Probably something to do with the only thing keeping Kam Shan from fading from into irrelevancy: their algae farms. Another Zhaisheng thing, I’d say.’

  ‘The general did mention a farm… First the banks in the core, then the hospitals around the north, and now the vast farms of the west. Kowloon’s getting a make-over. Makes you wonder what’s next.’

  ‘If the Emperor is smart, he’ll ignore Keung and resume the cybernetic enhancement programme. He’ll need stronger Kingmakers since it’ll be a while till our numbers recover from the District Rebellions. Plus, we’re probably gonna be short of another three Kingmakers. I’d love me an Eye and a pair of adrenal-pumps.’

  Yutai recalled what Shing was referring to: the cybernetic enhancement programme from two annui-cycles ago, aimed at equipping top Kingmakers with advanced cybernetic implants. Keung, as a high-ranked lieutenant, was eligible but unwilling, but with his father’s encouragement, opted for less invasive enhancements – adrenal pumps near his kidneys and a cybernetic Eye equipped with advanced information retrieval capabilities. Yutai also participated, but his admission into the programme was late. He was fitted with sub-dermal lockpicks beneath his palms. Capable of unlocking powerful magnetic doors.

  However, the programme ignited controversy among the tower’s traditionalist factions, primarily due to religious objections. According to Dongism, cybernetic implants are only permitted for medical necessities and are strictly forbidden for anything else, especially as tools for combat. The situation escalated when another lieutenant Kingmaker participating in the programme suffered a wholly new affliction – machine psychosis – following a radical procedure that digitised his nervous system and connected it directly to software. Permanent brain damage forced the unfortunate King into early retirement, which led Keung to oppose the program. Denzhen complied with his son’s unrelenting demands and barred all participants from undergoing further enhancements. Consequently, the infamous nephew of the Emperor became the reluctant face of the programme’s opposition. Some commended him for it, yet many more hated him.

  Yeah, It’d be great to have some cool implants, Yutai thought to himself. Like shit from the movies. But I’m not complaining that it’s stopped. It just hasn’t been researched enough yet. He kept his mouth shut and decided to change the topic.

  ‘Know anything useful about Tong?’

  Yutai’s question was met with a lecherous smile from Shing. ‘Tong used to be a real stunner back in the day. Supposed to be even prettier now. Shit, I wouldn’t mind a night with her.’

  Yutai scrunched his face in disgust. ‘Isn’t she pushing 100?’

  ‘But my dear Yutai, that’s the appeal. She’s been pumped with ageing preservatives and looks like a young mum. But I hear part of the preservatives is… simulating the tightness of youth. Get what I mean? I’d fuck her silly. You wouldn’t?’

  ‘Cut that shit out, man. Something serious is going on between her and the general, and you’re out here talking about waving your dick at her!’

  ‘… You think General Denzhen hit it back in the day?’

  ‘I do not want to imagine that at all.’

  Shing chuckled. ‘Relax, I wasn’t being serious. Besides, I’m sure she has some daughters around we cou—’

  ‘Oh my god, please shut up. Let’s talk about where we’re going. Have you ever been to Kam Shan? What’s her gang called?’

  ‘Never been, but I think Tong’s boys are called the Kam Shan Black Jackets, or just Black Jackets for short. She heads several different gangs since Kam Shan is so massive. They all have a small slice of the Kam Shan pie, and she decides which gang gets which piece.’

  ‘Sounds like she’s playing Kingmaker in her own corner of the world,’ Yutai remarked. ‘Kam Shan is her little Kowloon; she decides who rules which area, just like our Emperor and the 66 vassal districts of Kowloon,’ Yutai wondered out loud.

  Shing shrugged. ‘A cheap imitation at best. We protect Kowloon; they guard green goo until it’s good to eat. And don’t get me started on that shitty West Kowlooni accent.’ Shing gave his own rendition of a thick western accent and twirled his hand. ‘How do you do? O sire, how do you do?’

  Yutai laughed. Despite himself, Shing was a talented mimic.

  ‘Well, a single woman running multiple districts has to mean something,’ Yutai said. ‘Kam Shan is the largest district in all of Kowloon, right? I’ve never heard of anyone having authority over separate gangs, each with their own turf in a single district.’

  Suddenly, the monorail came to a grating halt, causing the duo to sway in their seats. They had arrived in Kam Shan’s capital of Fengcheng, hours after dark.

  ‘Let’s get our maps out and head to Tong,’ Yutai said as he stood up and led the way.

  They stepped out of the carriage, and as the doors slid shut behind them, it immediately departed, likely summoned by another Kingmaker elsewhere. The pair left the docking port room through a discreet door, emerging onto a quiet arcade street. From the outside, the door appeared to be nothing more than a side entrance to a typical storefront. Perhaps only the shop’s owner knew it concealed access to the King rail rather than a storeroom.

  As Kowloon entered its sleeping hours, the bustling activity began to wind down; shops were closing for the night, and groups of people lingered on the sidewalks. Further down the street stood a large, open gateway that bridged into the neighbouring groundscraper. Both Kingmakers, their large rifles and automatic weapons slung over their backs, walked side by side under dimmed lanterns hanging over their heads. As they walked across the bridge, Shing typed in Tong’s address on his holocommunicator and a red line appeared, weaving through the groundscraper and spiralling all the way down to the ground floor.

  ‘Would you look at that,’ Yutai commented, leaning over the map hovering above Shing’s wrist. ‘That’s the damned ground floor. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a lord or lady having their headquarters in Old Kowloon,’

  ‘For good reason. It’s the ass-crack of Kowloon. If I don’t pass out from the smell, it’ll be the claustrophobia,’ Shing groused.

  ‘Yeah, not a fan either.’

  As they walked, Yutai noticed some night stalls were still open, shopkeepers playing soft music to help them stay awake. The map had them take a left turn at an intersection and descend a flight of stairs until they were standing before an antique lift at the end of an empty alley.

  The lift didn’t even have automatic sliding doors. When the light above the door flashed green, Yutai turned a knob and swung the door open. Stepping inside, the cramped box swayed ever so slightly under their weight. After Shing closed the door, Yutai pressed the lowest button on the wall’s worn catalogue of floors, a moth-eaten number zero. The lights flickered, and with a low hum the lift jolted into motion, its walls scraping against the shaft as it lowered down.

  Lifts were as common as the groundscrapers themselves in Kowloon. However, many were ancient and hadn’t seen upgrades for centuries. Yutai suspected the one they were in was no exception. Nevertheless, Puyin’s Zhaisheng had started investing in upgraded lifts throughout Kowloon, addressing the alarmingly frequent deaths caused by cables snapping.

  Yutai cleared his throat. ‘So, Shing. Still planning on flirting with Tong?’

  Shing side-eyed him. ‘Oh, so now we want to talk about it?’

  ‘I want to be prepared for any second-hand embarrassment, that’s all,’ Yutai let out a restrained smile as he clocked the level on the counter.

  61, 60, 59…

  ‘Well, I wasn’t planning on holding back my charms. I’ll see how it goes, maybe give her a gentleman’s kiss on the hand, maybe ask what she’s doing tomorrow night, who knows?’ Shing twinkled.

  ‘Well, isn’t that just fantastic,’ Yutai said distractedly.

  Shing turned to Yutai wearing a frown. ‘Wait, I feel you’re not telling me something.’

  ‘Yeah, I just remembered about Tong’s eldest son…’

  Shing raised his eyebrow ever so slightly.

  ‘… What, you didn’t know? The beast of Kam Shan, Shou Feng? Iridium-Fisted Terror?’

  Shing laughed. ‘Iridium fist, my ass. That’s a myth, I know it.’

  ‘Nope,’ Yutai shot back. ‘Shou Feng, oh that’s him all right. It just dawned on me why Tong’s name sounded so familiar. It’s because she’s the mother of the Iridium-Fisted Terror, Shou Feng. You know how the story goes, yeah? Lung Hai gangsters from Tei Lung show up on Kam Shan’s border, refusing to leave. Tong sends her only son to deal with them, with nothing but a pistol as his weapon. He comes back with both hands smashed and broken, but not a single bullet left the chamber of his gun. Want to know why?’

  ‘Well, obviously you want me to think he bashed every Lung Hai gangster’s head in?’ A bead of sweat ran down Shing’s forehead.

  ‘Yeah, but he went beyond shoving the Lung Hai’s off Tong’s land,’ Yutai replied. ‘After they ran back into their district, he chased them into District Tei Lung until he was just two hundred kilometres from the capital. Many Lung Hai gangsters lost their lives to nothing but brutal punches. Some say Tong had ordered him to cut his way into Tei Lung territory to send a message; others believe he just went into a mindless frenzy and didn’t stop until he couldn’t move his arms any longer. And that’s how he broke almost every bone in his hands.’

  ‘Wait… is that how Shou got his…’ Shing stood there as if he knew the answer to his question.

  ‘Yep. Apparently, they fixed his hands by aligning all his shattered bones and then encasing them in pure iridium. I’ve heard he’s known to kill people with a single blow if he doesn’t pull his punches. That’s how Shou Feng became the Iridium-Fisted Terror.’

  Shing cracked his neck. ‘Perhaps I’ll flirt with Tong another day.’

  10, 9, 8…

  Yutai smiled. ‘Who knows, from what you said, it sounds like she’ll outlive her son. Maybe you can take your chances with her then.’

  ‘Brother, I bloody hate you,’ Shing sighed.

  6, 5, 4…

  Yutai held his smile as the lift neared the lower floors of Kowloon. It started to make screeching sounds, signalling its infrequent use down this deep.

  ‘I know brother, I know. What would you do without me?’

  Shing rolled his eyes.

  3, 2, 1, 0…

  ‘Looks like we’re here, Shing. Let’s get into character.’

  Ding.