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It was almost 6 pm on just another Monday and Yut-Lung wanted nothing more than to go home, curl up on the sofa with his cats with a glass of white wine and watch some brain-rotting reality TV. Instead, seated in his office tapping a limited edition fountain pen against a neatly stacked set of papers, he was reluctantly dealing with some of the seedier aspects of organized crime.
“Sir, are you sure you want us to bring him in? I assure you we can clear up the matter thoroughly and swiftly ourselves.”
Yut-Lung glared at his subordinate, Yang. The man with the center part and tortoiseshell eyeglasses had many qualities that have led him to be one of Yue’s most trusted aides within the past few years. Yue thought, however, that he had this annoying habit of thinking a little bit too much about where Yue’s mental state was at and tiptoeing around that. Sing was already enough on that front.
“I told you…” Yue said assertively as he put his feet up on his desk. “Give him to me. You know this type of situations is personal to me. And you’ve already laid down the plastic. Let me get it over with.”
“Yes sir,” Yang said with a sigh that he made no attempt at hiding.
Yue scowled. He preferred when Yang showed a bit more respect.
A minute later his guys brought in the man who shook as he stared at the floor.
“Mr. Lee,” Yang prompted.
“Mr. M-…” Yue couldn’t bring himself to say the man’s name aloud. “You. I don’t suppose you have anything intelligent to say.”
“Sir, sir, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t trying to be sneaky, I’ll give you your cut, I promise, I just need to get it back from-“
“I don’t want your fucking nasty ass cut!”
“Ahh I’m sorry, Sir! Please, please have mercy.”
“You don’t fucking do that here! You don’t do that fucking anywhere.” Yue stood up, raging. “You know this! When you’re answering to me, this kind of thing is off limits! As it should be!”
“It won’t happen again, I’m sorry! Your brothers never cared so I thought that… I’m so sorry, Sir!”
“I don’t give a fuck about how sorry you feel,” the Yue seethed. “You guys! Hold that bastard down. Yang, Knife.”
The two men holding the man named Mr. Meng strengthened their grip. Their expression never changed. Yang’s face, on the other hand, expressed distress on behalf of his boss.
“This is what happens to perverted bastards selling children on my turf. You fucking monster.”
Yut-lung blinked once, in a deliberate fashion, and with that his demeanor changed from borderline deranged to cold, confident, and collected. He reminded himself that this was how a crime boss should act. He then walked from his desk and stood in front of the man who was still being held but now gagged. He then signaled to his men to lower the man to the layer of temporary plastic beneath them. As he kneeled and focused on the man’s face, he briefly hesitated, but then he remembered that this piece of shit probably never hesitated before he committed an action that irreversibly changed or ruined someone’s life. First, Yue dexterously drove the 5 inch blade through both of the man’s eyes, one after the other. He allowed the man to scream through the gag and bleed in agony for about 15 seconds. And then in a quick single movement that seemed comparatively humane, he sliced the man’s throat and sighed.
He thought of what Sing would say. Probably something like, “I’d cut his dick off.” Yue didn’t even want to get near that shit.
“Yang, I’d like to head straight home tonight. See that there is rosé in the car.”
Yang cleared his throat and spoke cautiously. “Sir, forgive me. But it’s not worth it to dirty your hands for people like this. I understand that it is personal, but trash like that is not worth the risk, not worth your time. Like I’ve told you before, I will take care of these things for you.”
Yue wanted to scream at Yang, to tell him that’d he’d kill trash if he wanted to, that he didn’t care if it came back to him, and if it did come back to him he’d be legally fucked anyway, so who cares. He didn’t have the energy to say what he wanted. He knew Yang was right about this anyway. But what he thought and what he felt were once again at crossroads.
———
Yut-Lung woke up to the irritating sound of an unwanted phone call.
“Sing,” Yue groaned as he answered. His head pounded. “It’s too early.”
“What, hungover again, man? You gotta take care of yourself better,” Sing said.
“Um. Yesterday was hard. I had to deal with that Meng guy.”
“Oh, Yue…”
“Anyway, why are you interrupting my beauty sleep?”
“We’ve got a situation.”
Yue groaned. It was too early for a “situation.”
“Well, it’s not too big of a deal. The guy essentially poses no threat with how well your guys have been able to monitor him, but Lu Ziheng is in New York again. His movements indicate he will be targeting you.”
“Oh,” was all Yue could manage. The news was of Lu Ziheng, the estranged son of one of his (deceased) older brothers. This nephew of his, who was actually a few years older than himself, had attempted assassinating him four years prior. That was possibly returning, with vengeance still in his heart, didn’t really move him. In fact, he’d been waiting for this.
“Is something wrong?”
“Why…” Yue struggled to find the right words with his hangover brain. “Why are you the one to call me about this.”
“Sometimes… To tell the truth I think Yang thinks you’ll have a better reaction if I’m the one to break certain types of news to you.”
“And why’s this news?”
“Yueeee,” Sing groaned. “Come on, man. This guy doesn't seem to be relenting. Yang, at least, thinks it’s time.”
“Time for what?”
“Don’t be a brat. Time to take him out.”
Yue stayed silent. This felt like too much for his brain to handle with the size of this hangover and zero caffeine.
“Well, Yue… just think about it, I guess. I gotta get to class.”
“Sorry.”
“Huh?”
“You’re still wrapped up with this business while you’re in college.”
“Hey. I want to be doin’ this with you. You know that.”
Yue swallowed. “Yes.”
Yue cancelled his meetings for the day and stayed in. He drank to kill the hangover from the night before. He tried to keep it moderate.
He ignored the voicemails from Yang.
He quieted his head by rewatching some of his favorite C-Dramas. The cats, Shu and Mittens, they were called, ever so perceptive, kept close to him. He braided his long hair. He did a face mask. He briefly thought about his mother.
He managed to sober up in the evening. That meant that by the time he got to sleep the dreams were in full-swing.
Stressful dreams. The kind coming from fears, from trauma, from shame? Yue never really tried to figure it out. Perhaps was scared to do that. But, stressful dreams.
Dreams of being shuttled through airports like a farm animal to slaughter. Relying each week on a stranger to take him from place A to B. The dry air and the feeling you’re forgetting something important. Forgetting what city you going to next or what kind of person you’ll be meeting. Having to walk among strangers knowing you’re bleeding and injured in an unspeakable place and being given a maxi pad like a girl when you can’t hide it anymore.
Dreams there’s a monster getting closer and closer but you can’t stop it. You can’t hide. Running only takes you so far. You’re cornered. You have no allies.
Dreams of not being able to find a bathroom where the urinals and toilets aren’t all out of order or overflowing.
Dreams there’s a dozen disembodied hands touching every place on your body.
And then waking up completely soaked in sweat.
It was only 6 am. There was no real way to escape the pounding at the door. The apartment’s security camera revealed the ticked-off face of Yang.
Yue opened the door apprehensively.
“What?” he asked. His brain felt fuzzy from the lack of an actual restful sleep. He stood straight, trying to maintain composure.
Yang rolled his eyes. Ever the professional, it wasn’t often he was sassy, but when he was, you could be certain the situation was getting serious.
“Listen,” Yang said as he stepped in and looked intensely at Yue. “Your nephew is out to get you, again. Maybe you don’t care about your own neck, or maybe you really do just want to die, but what about the people around you? I know you’ve thought about that, so why the inaction?”
“Umm.”
“Don’t pretend to be a dumbass.” Yang sighed and pushed the bridge of his glasses. “This guy has the potential to be something of a wild card. He appears to live a normal life, but once in a while, he surprises us. And he’s never cooperated with us before when we’ve tried to make amends or compromises. He is a thorn in our side.”
Yue looked down at his bare feet.
“Do you pity him?” Yang asked.
Yue couldn’t bring himself to answer.
“God, when you’re like this…” Yang shook his head and trailed off. “Sorry. You can be so decisive, like with Meng, so why-“
“That guy was a fucking child molester!”
“Okay! So you did your job and took care of it! So with Lu Ziheng, it may not be as morally clear-cut, but you need to do something! Why are you extending grace to him, when it’s him that poses a threat to your guards? What if something happened to one of them because of him, and you could have prevented it? What if something happened to me?”
It wasn’t pleasant to hear all this.
“What if something happened to Sing?”
Fucking Yang. The guy knew to hit where it hurt.
Yang continued. “You know that is a very real possibility. You are so protective over him. You convinced him to hand control of the Chinatown gang over to someone else. Yet, you still allow him to work for you. How long do you think he’ll be safe in that role? He’s tough, but… Any of your enemies have got to see by now that he’s your weak spot.”
Yue thought of the Lynx and Okumura. A weakness.
“You know that I, of all people, am all for second chances, but Lu Ziheng doesn’t deserve it.” Yang’s voice softened. “He’s a Lee, through and through. You know what that’s all about. And you’ve seen this from him firsthand.”
Yue nodded.
“He has built no loyalty, there should be little risk for this to come back to us. I wouldn’t be so insistent if I didn’t think this was necessary.”
“I’ll think about it,” Yue finally spoke.
“You’re difficult to bend on this, I know. Please make some decision soon.”
As he left, Yang tried to offer a smile. Yue had a headache.
———
Yut-Lung was strong. He could be cunning and ruthless. At times he would show no hesitation and even involved himself more than he needed to, like with the Meng thing, but Sing realized Yue still had mental blocks when it came to certain situations.
Sing wasn’t exactly worried, per se, but there was a threat, a nuisance, and Yue wasn’t taking action.
Was his friend and mentor being cowardly? He wasn’t sure that was it.
And Sing didn’t dare be the judge of that.
Yang had been by to speak with the young boss. Sing figured it was his turn.
“What’s so hard about it? Just give the word. Boom, he’s dead.” Sing plopped down on the sofa and put his feet up on a stupidly expensive coffee table. The tabby cat Shu came up to say hi.
“Do you really think this is necessary?” Yue asked. He sat across from Sing in an armchair wearing a white robe. His eyes looked empty.
“Yeah, I do. He already tried to kill you once. He’s shown no sign of change. He doesn’t listen to us. He won’t work with us to reach a compromise. He is a threat.”
“There are a lot of people who’d like to hurt me.”
“And, most of those people aren’t so hellbent on it that we’re actually concerned. He’s been monitoring you, us, for a long time and now he’s here again.”
Yut-Lung. He had a knack for appearances. But now, he seemed worn. And he wasn’t even trying to hide it.
“Something bothering you?” Sing asked. Of course there was. The question was what.
“He’s just so… he’s so angry and alone. I don’t think he’s bad.”
Sign sighed internally. That was probably true.
“I don’t think he’s any different than me,” Yue said dismally as his hands played with his braid. “He’s just trying to avenge his father.”
Sing already knew it, but that’s what he was looking to hear from Yue.
“His father was a piece of shit! It’s not like how it was when you were trying to avenge your mom.”
“But to him it’s no different, right?”
Sometimes, Sing kinda wanted to hit Yue. He wondered why his friend had to be so self-destructive when he’s already came so far.
“Why is this so hard, Sing? I’m tired.” Yue stared at the ceiling. “I can’t call the shots on this one.”
“You have to though, if it’s coming from us. Until he attacks and it’s in self-defense. If it’s offense, it has to come from you.”
Sing paused to think before speaking again. Was there another way to… just get rid of this guy without having to hound Yue over it?
“If he were to disappear and you had nothing to do with it, would you lose sleep over it?”
“What are you saying?” Yue asked.
“He leads a dangerous lifestyle. A reckless guy like that with very few allies in this country, anything could happen, ya know? You might not even have to call the shots. ”
“I don’t want to do anything. I’m sitting here feeling like I’m going crazy, to be honest. I feel like I don’t ever want to do anything ever again.”
Sing’s eyes widened. Not again. I don’t want him to feel like this, but I can’t deal with these types of emotions.
Yue adjusted his seating position looked back at Sing in the eyes. His demeanor seemed less gloomy now. “Sorry, I don’t mean that. And, if it means you’ll be safe… I want him gone."
Sing paused. Why’d he single out me?
“So you’re saying you want him gone, but you don’t want to be the one responsible?” Sing asked, wondering, trying to figure this out. Should he just take charge and do it himself?
Yue shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking. I will take care of it. Don’t involve yourself any longer.”
———
The next day, before any of his appointments, before he could change his mind, Yue made a phone call. It was unusual to have to reach out to an outsider for this type of job, but considering Lu Ziheng was, in fact, a Lee, it seemed right.
“Blanca. It’s Lee Yut-Lung.”
“Ah, Lee Yut-Lung. Yes, how’s it going?”
“It’s… going.”
“It’s been a while. Something up?”
“Blanca, I know you’re retired, but I have a job that I hope you’d consider. For a Lee.”