Jen Ryu remained frozen with his mouth open, his triumph frozen into a mask of mute shock. Mei Yu simply closed his eyes. Xiao Li sat down on the asphalt, staring at the ground.
Hong Ren stood at the center line, looking at his hands. He didn't feel triumph. He felt emptiness. That very emptiness that could now be filled with the long-awaited reward. He slowly turned and walked towards his bench, towards Ming You, towards his "dose."
Meanwhile, the crowd of spectators exploded. But not all of it. Only the part that had bet on Hong Ren. They yelled, hugged, slapped each other on the backs.
"I knew he'd win! Beer for the whole night!"
"Yeah, and for a couple of whores! Number twelve, you're just super!"
Their joy was crude, primitive, and meaningless to those who had lost.
On the newcomers' bench, Jen Ryu pounded his fist against the seat, over and over, until his knuckles turned white and blood appeared.
"Fuck! How could we fuck up a game like that? It's all because of him! Because of Ming You! Let's go, beat the shit out of him while these fuckers are celebrating!"
Mei Yu grabbed his shoulder, but without the former strength.
"Calm down, Jen. We did all we could. The rules... weren't in our favor."
"NOT IN OUR FAVOR?!" Jen Ryu broke free, his eyes bloodshot. "Then let's make them in our favor! Let's beat the shit out of him!"
Xiao Li, silent until the last, spoke quietly, looking not at Jen Ryu but towards the departing gangsters:
"As for me, that's exactly what he wants. You're not planning to dance to his tune, are you?"
Jen Ryu froze. His rage ran into the dead end of his own powerlessness. He understood everything. Any move they made now was part of Ming You's plan.
And as if on cue, those for whom the game was just beginning approached them. Taek Jung and his men. Their faces were stone masks.
"Well, little shits," Taek Jung's velvet voice was quieter than the whistle of the wind but audible to everyone. "Looks like you have debts. And I don't like debts hanging in the air."
"We... we'll pay everything back," Mei Yu's voice trembled. Taek Jung smirked, revealing even teeth.
"Of course, you'll pay back. You have a chance to win it back. We'll organize another game with stakes. You lose—the debt triples. And so on until you become our personal errand boys. Or until your bones break."
Jen Ryu tried to shout something, but Taek Jung simply raised his hand, and his men took a step forward.
"Play," Taek Jung concluded coldly. "Until you pay it off. Or until you get tired of breathing."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the court, a different reality reigned. Ming You's team was on edge. Not from a sports victory, but from the anticipation of what was promised.
"Well, guys," Ming You began. "Time to celebrate. I hear there's an excellent selection at one of the joints right now. And you, Lu Shen, it's about time you stopped shaking and started fucking."
The team exploded with lewd laughter. Even Jung Ho blushed and laughed, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"I'm ready right now!" Lu Shen howled, jumping in place. "Just watch, don't order such expensive ones that I won't have enough for food later!"
"And don't you dare offer to have me pay for your escapades," Haru Lin winced in disgust, fixing his hair. "And, for god's sake, don't tell details, spare me that."
Jung Ho turned to Hong Ren, who was standing slightly apart, wiping his face with a towel:
"And you, hero of the day, joining us? Gotta let off some adrenaline."
Hong Ren slowly raised his gaze. The corners of his usually empty lips twitched, forming something distantly resembling a smile.
"Why not?" he said quietly. "After a game like that... it should be fun."
Ming You observed this picture: Jung Ho, craving brotherly fun; Lu Shen, obsessed with cheap sex; Haru Lin, mocking everyone; Hong Ren, ready to follow the group. He raised his hand, and the laughter died down.
"Ah, yes, by the way, guys," he said with a light, unnatural smile. "I'll be a bit delayed. Need to discuss something with our... sponsors. About future games." He nodded towards Taek Jung. "You go on, get started. I'll be there soon."
He looked at two burly guys from Taek Jung's entourage who had already approached.
"Be so kind as to escort my friends. So no one gets lost or into trouble."
The gangsters nodded with dead faces.
The players of the Yoshida team, already anticipating release and a dose, cheerfully followed them, disappearing into the night, away from this court, from the smell of defeat and fear.
Ming You remained standing alone in the middle of the emptying court. He didn't watch the departing team. He looked at the five newcomers, already tightly encircled by Taek Jung's men. At Jen Ryu, convulsing in silent hysteria. At Mei Yu, trying to negotiate. At Xiao Li, resigned to his fate.
"Hello again, Ming You!"
The voice came from behind, from the left, where it wasn't expected. It was velvety, playful, and yet incredibly clear.
Ming You didn't turn around immediately. He let the pause hang in the air, then slowly, as if his neck were on hinges, turned his head.
From around the corner, casting a long, distorted shadow, Tae Sagi stepped out. He wore a beige shirt with a small pattern resembling cracks on old porcelain. A black jacket was casually draped over his shoulder, hooked on one finger.
But the main thing wasn't his appearance, but his smile. Unnaturally wide, stretched to his ears, displaying perfectly white teeth. A smile that held not a drop of warmth, only icy, studying amusement.
"How was the game?" Tae Sagi asked, pausing between words as if tasting them.
The corners of Ming You's lips slowly, almost reluctantly, tugged upward. Not in response to the smile, but more like a mechanical reaction to a complex stimulus. His own smile was thin as a razor blade.
"Hello-hello, Tae... 'Sagi'," he said, deliberately emphasizing the nickname.
"Gonna answer the question, huh?" Tae Sagi took a step closer, his shadow covering Ming You. He smelled of expensive tobacco, expensive cognac, and something metallic, deep. "Or is your head so busy counting other people's money and other people's suffering that there's no room for simple human courtesy?"
Ming You didn't even blink, answering in an even tone:
"Something tells me your question is rhetorical."
Tae Sagi laughed. His laugh was loud, sincere, and for that, even more frightening.
"Ha-ha-ha! Exactly! As perceptive as ever, Ming You."
He fell silent, his sharp, assessing gaze sliding over Ming You's face, his posture, as if reading invisible data.
"By the way..." Tae Sagi drew out the word, savoring the moment. "Don't you want to play? A real game. One on one. Without these..." he waved a hand towards the departed team and the crying newcomers, "...extras."
"I think I'll refuse," Ming You answered without hesitation.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Tae Sagi feigned indignation, raising a finger. "You don't even know how I play! Maybe, by the way, I was the captain of the prison basketball team among... the especially dangerous ones. Or maybe I can't play at all and I'm just talking! Heh-heh."
He winked, and in that wink was a whole universe of brazen lies and outright mockery.
Ming You finally turned to face him fully, crossing his arms behind his back.
"You won't fool me, Te 'Sagi'."
Something resembling respect flickered across Tae Sagi's face. A momentary flash, immediately hidden behind the mask of clownery.
"That's true too, heh. Alright, fine, I admit, I play. And you know, I was ready to make you a royal offer. For example... if you win—I'll hand over all the Te family's assets to your disposal. Sounds tempting, doesn't it?"
He watched, looking for even a spark of greed, excitement, anything in Ming You's eyes.
Ming You shook his head, utterly calm.
"I refuse."
"Oh-oh-oh!" Tae Sagi gasped theatrically, putting a hand to his chest. "What a pussy you are, Ming You! Breaking my heart! Tru-ue-ly."
"Beating you in basketball isn't an 'absolute victory'. It's just another round in your game, the rules of which you set. I'm not interested in that," Ming You cut him off. His voice was flat as a wall.
Tae Sagi laughed again, but this time the laughter was quieter, more interested.
"Smart, fucking smart. Alright, forget it," Tae Sagi clicked his tongue, pretending to give up, but his sharp, amused eyes continued to bore into Ming You. "A shame, really. I would have loved to watch you try to beat me not with someone else's hands, but with your own."
Ming You ignored the provocation. Instead, he made a short, calculated pause, steering the conversation in the direction he wanted.
"By the way," he began, and a light, business-like undertone appeared in his even voice, "since you're here, in the role of... the evening's host. I have a small request."
Tae Sagi raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling up.
"Oh-oh-oh! A request?!" he drew out the word, savoring it. "From you? You don't say! Well, tell me. I'm all ears. On one ear, though," he tapped his earlobe with a finger, "there are echoes of prison ringtones, but the other is at your full disposal."
"You'll be at the same club tonight? The one with Sung Wo?" Ming You asked, ignoring the clownery.
"I will, I will," Tae Sagi nodded, smiling widely. "How could it be otherwise? Gotta keep an eye on my modest investments. And on the interesting people playing in them."
"Then," Ming You looked him straight in the eyes, not requesting but stating a fact, "can you make the same 'magical' cocktails for my team as last time?"
Tae Sagi froze for a second, then let out a short, genuine guffaw that seemed to make the night air tremble.
"Ha-ha! I see you're a connoisseur! My 'little night wizards'? The ones after which a person remembers their name only by lunchtime the next day? For your young, fragile minds? Well, Ming You, for you... perhaps I will make them. Gratis. Today I feel like a charitable foundation for the especially gifted. So be it, request heard and approved."
Ming You sighed almost imperceptibly, as if expecting something.
"But?" he said in an even tone.
"You son of a bitch," Tae Sagi hissed with unconcealed pleasure. "You read me like an open book, don't you? See right through me. Alright, fine. Yes, there's one tiny, little 'but'. The price. Just satisfy my... hypertrophied curiosity. Answer honestly. With what, I wonder, purpose did you, last night, deep into the night, ride around the industrial zone in a furniture delivery van? Alone, without your entourage. Not at all on the way to basketball courts or clubs."
The question hung in the air, sharp and unexpected.
Ming You didn't even flinch. His face remained a stone mask. Inside, however, a lightning-fast calculation was underway:
"Denying is pointless, it would show weakness. Admitting the truth is impossible. Only one path remains—audacity, styled as candor."
He slowly nodded, as if acknowledging his opponent's skill.
"As I hinted earlier, and as you've likely already guessed," he began, his voice sounding almost respectful, "it was... a performance. I wanted to make an impression. Specifically on you. To test how extensive your... awareness is. How quickly signals reach you. And, judging by the fact that you're asking this question..." he made a microscopic pause, "...my performance succeeded, since you noticed me."
Tae Sagi burst into such loud, booming laughter that it seemed to scare the bats off the neighboring roof.
"Heh-heh-heh... Bra-vo!" he exhaled, wiping an imaginary tear. "Simply brilliant! The most audacious lie, presented as the highest form of flattery! Yes, I believe you! I'll pretend to believe this marvelous fairy tale about 'testing the network.' Because it, damn it, is a thousand times more interesting than some boring, mundane truth! Alright, Ming You, deal. Your team gets special 'little wizards' from the personal bartender of the Te family. With the full spectrum of... forgetfulness."
He spun on his heels, his jacket flaring up.
"And now," he threw over his shoulder, "it seems we're going the same way? Not good to leave one's flock unattended. Who knows, they might run into some other wolf pack. Let's go. The night is young, and the reward—like that very cocktail—should be drunk to the dregs."
Without waiting for a response, Tae Sagi strode into the darkness, his shadow dancing on the walls. Ming You stood for another moment on the emptied court—the arena of his small tactical victory.
He took a deep breath, taking in this cocktail of smells: fear, money, lies, and the night's chill. Then, silently, he stepped forward, his own shadow, long and incorporeal, crawling after him on the asphalt, dissolving into the encroaching darkness, becoming an inseparable part of it.