The private room in the Wo Kee triad's restaurant, perched high above Mong Kok, smelled of gunpowder and dim sum. Aoyama Minami sat at the head of the table, his long fingers tapping a silent, impatient rhythm on the blackwood surface. He hadn't touched the steaming tea in front of him. Behind him, his Four Heavenly Kings stood motionless like stone statues, their collective killing intent so potent it made the waiters tremble.
Across from him, Brother Ox of the Fuk Hing swallowed hard. He could feel the sweat soaking the collar of his shirt.
"Lord Aoyama," Brother Ox began, his voice strained. "The Wo Kee say… their leader is on his way."
Aoyama didn't reply. He merely shot Brother Ox a look so cold it made the veteran gangster stare down at his own hands.
The door slid open. A man in a cheap suit entered, bowing low. "Aoyama-sama," he stammered in broken Japanese. "Our leader asks for your patience."
Aoyama's lip curled into a sneer. "I don't talk to dogs," he said in flawless, soulless Cantonese. "Get your master in here."
The man paled, about to stammer a reply when another voice cut through the air from the doorway.
"Let me."
Every head turned. A man walked in. He wasn't built like Brother Ox, nor was he dressed as impeccably as Aoyama. He wore a simple jacket, his long hair tied loosely back. But the moment he entered, an absolute silence fell over the room. His eyes, sharp as razors, swept calmly over the Four Heavenly Kings, past Brother Ox, and finally locked onto Aoyama Minami.
Time seemed to stop. A muscle twitched in Aoyama's jaw. The confidence, the condescension, the predator's arrogance—it all evaporated, replaced by a stunned disbelief that quickly boiled into a volcanic rage. His breathing grew heavy.
"You..." Aoyama ground out, crushing each word between his teeth. "Who the hell are you?"
The man smiled, a smirk that held no warmth. "The man you've been looking for."
Tachibana Masato.
In that instant, Aoyama Minami was no longer the head of the Sankō-gumi in Hong Kong. He was just a hunter that had finally cornered his mortal enemy.
"KILL HIM!"
The single word was a primal scream of condensed hatred.
One of the Four Heavenly Kings—a giant with hands like iron anvils—surged forward. He drew a gleaming dagger, thrusting straight for Tachibana's heart. But Tachibana was faster. He didn't retreat; he advanced, flowing to the side with liquid grace. At the same time, his hand shot out, flicking the scalding hot teapot from the table directly into the giant's face.
"ARGH!" The Heavenly King roared in agony, clawing at his blistering skin. Tachibana gave him no second chance. An elbow strike, as precise as a surgeon's scalpel, connected with his temple. The giant collapsed like a felled oak.
The other three Kings drew their weapons and charged as one. The Wo Kee thugs flipped tables, grabbing chairs, bottles, anything, turning the opulent dining room into a warzone.
"Get him! Hold him down for me!" Aoyama bellowed, his eyes bloodshot. He plunged into the fight himself, his focus narrowed to a single target.
Tachibana moved through the chaos like a phantom, using the pandemonium as his weapon. He kicked a chair into the legs of one Heavenly King, used a bamboo dim sum steamer to parry a knife slash from another, then smashed the steamer into the man's face. Blood and food splattered across the silk wallpaper.
Aoyama fought frantically to get to him, grabbing a Wo Kee thug in his path and using the man's head to batter a wall. CRACK! The sound of bone breaking was sickeningly sharp. But when he turned back, Tachibana was already across the room, by the window.
Tachibana Masato locked eyes with him, his expression a mask of challenge and mockery. He gave one final, infuriating smile before taking a single step back, shattering the plate-glass window, and disappearing into the Hong Kong night.
The room was left in shambles, filled with the groans of the wounded and an apoplectic Aoyama Minami, panting, his whole body trembling with rage. He had found his prey, only to be utterly humiliated.
He spun around, grabbing the collar of a terrified Brother Ox cowering in the corner.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Aoyama screamed into his face. "YOU KNEW HE WAS HERE AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?! DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?"
Aoyama Minami's rage, after losing Tachibana, manifested as a brutal crackdown. The Sankō-gumi, guided by Brother Ox, began systematically attacking the Hung Hing's businesses. Bars, mahjong parlors, parking garages—no corner of their territory was safe.
In a cramped, humid back room of a mechanic's shop, Chan Ho Nam sat on a plastic stool, chain-smoking in silence. The floor around him was littered with cigarette butts. The air was thick with tobacco and despair.
Sa Bi entered, his face haggard. "Brother Nam, A-Si's crew came by again for this month's protection money. I've put them off twice. He said if we don't pay up today, he's sending his guys to wreck the place."
Bao Bi, bandaging a fresh wound on his arm, added, "The brothers who got hurt in the pier fight need money for medicine, too. They're… waiting on you, boss."
Chan Ho Nam said nothing. He just took a long, deep drag, letting the acrid smoke fill his lungs. He was waging a war against a multinational corporation with the funds of a street gang. He could be a tiger in the alleys, but even tigers needed to eat. The loyalty of his men was built on respect, but it was maintained with rice and rent money. He could feel the weight of leadership crushing him.
Little Bee stood quietly in the corner, watching it all. She no longer saw the fearsome Red Pole, but a tired, lonely man backed into a corner. The nascent love in her heart morphed into a reckless determination. She walked over to Sa Bi, who had slumped to the floor.
"Brother Sa Bi," she whispered. "I have a way to get money. Fast."
Sa Bi looked up, his eyes weary. "What way? What's left? Are you talking about robbing someone?" He meant it as a joke, but one look at Little Bee's eyes told him she was dead serious.
"Shit, are you insane?" Sa Bi hissed. "Brother Nam will kill us if he finds out!"
"If we do nothing," Little Bee replied, her voice firm, "someone else will kill him. You choose. The Trust Bank on Nathan Road. Security is garbage around noon. Just the two of us. In and out."
Sa Bi looked from Little Bee's determined face back to the silent, brooding Chan Ho Nam. Loyalty and desperation won out over fear. "God damn it," he swore. "Fine. Let's do it."
"EVERYBODY ON THE FUCKING GROUND! GIVE ME THE MONEY, NOW!"
Sa Bi's roar echoed through the bank lobby. Little Bee, small but agile, vaulted over the counter, pressing the muzzle of her gun to the temple of a trembling teller. It was going according to plan. The cash was being stuffed into a duffel bag. They were almost home free.
But an old security guard, a man they thought they had neutralized, had managed to press the silent alarm button beneath his desk.
As Little Bee and Sa Bi burst through the front doors, the distant wail of sirens began to close in.
"Shit! Cops!" Sa Bi yelled.
They sprinted for their getaway motorcycle. But a volley of shots from the first arriving police car kicked up sparks around them. A bullet grazed Little Bee's shoulder, sending her stumbling to the ground with a cry of pain. Blood blossomed on her jacket.
"LITTLE BEE!" Sa Bi screamed, turning back to haul her to her feet.
The sirens were deafening now. They were surrounded. Sa Bi dragged the injured Little Bee into a narrow nearby alleyway as gunfire erupted behind them. Wounded, hunted, and trapped, their desperate plan for a quick score had turned into a deadly ambush.
Meanwhile, in a noodle shop across town, Chan Ho Nam's walkie-talkie crackled to life. A panicked voice screamed over the static: "Brother Nam! Little Bee and Sa Bi are pinned down by the cops on Nathan Road! They just hit a bank!"
Chan Ho Nam shot to his feet, his half-eaten bowl of noodles crashing to the floor. "You idiots!" he roared, it wasn't clear if he was cursing them or himself. He burst out of the shop, kick-started his motorcycle, and tore off like a rocket, heading straight into the storm.
Police sirens screamed like a pack of approaching hyenas. Bullets whizzed through the air.
"Son of a bitch!" Chan Ho Nam roared as he skidded his motorcycle to the mouth of the alley. He saw Sa Bi dragging an injured Little Bee, her shoulder soaked in red.
"BROTHER NAM!" Sa Bi yelled in desperation.
Ho Nam didn't waste a second. He pulled his pistol, firing a quick volley at the approaching squad car, forcing it to swerve. "Little Bee, get on!" he yelled. "NOW!"
Sa Bi shoved her onto the back of the bike. Ho Nam grabbed her, holding her tight. "Sa Bi, you're on your own! Find a hole to crawl into! I'll make contact later!"
"Got it, boss!"
Ho Nam twisted the throttle. The motorcycle roared like a wild beast, launching out of the alley, weaving through the police blockade, and vanishing into the chaotic Hong Kong traffic. He had saved Little Bee, but the price was steep. The Hung Hing tiger was now the city's most wanted fugitive, forced to live like a sewer rat.
Days passed in a grimy safe house in Sham Shui Po. Little Bee's fever had broken, but the wound still ached. Their medical supplies were gone. That night, Ho Nam had to go out himself. He pulled a baseball cap low over his face, his collar high, and slipped into a dark alley toward an underground pharmacy.
He didn't know that death was waiting for him.
Two shadows detached themselves from the darkness at both ends of the alley, cutting off all escape. They were Sankō-gumi.
"Nowhere left to run, Chan Ho Nam," one of them sneered. "Lord Aoyama sends his regards."
Ho Nam backed away, his hands raised in a fighting stance. He knew he couldn't take them both.
"Die, you motherfucker!" The other assassin lunged, a gleaming dagger aimed for his throat.
Just as the steel was about to taste his skin, there was a flash of motion, too fast to see. SHING! The assassin's eyes went wide with shock. A perfect, clean cut opened across his throat, spraying a hot torrent of blood. He collapsed in a heap.
His partner spun around, stunned, only to be met by a ghost. A sharp elbow strike to the back of the neck. CRACK! The sound of a snapped vertebra echoed in the alley.
Now only Ho Nam and his savior remained. The man stepped into the light. Tachibana Masato.
"You?" Ho Nam gasped, still on high alert. "Why did you save me?"
Tachibana casually wiped the blood from his blade. "I didn't save you," he said, his voice like ice. "I just kill those I want to kill. It just so happens, they were also your enemies."
He looked Ho Nam dead in the eye. "The enemy of my enemy…"
Ho Nam understood. He gave a single, sharp nod. In that dark alley, between two of the city's deadliest men, a lethal alliance was formed.
They moved Little Bee to a safer underground clinic to have the bullet removed. The surgery was a success. While she was still unconscious, her mother and sister, having heard the news, came to visit.
They didn't know a devil had followed them.
A Sankō-gumi enforcer, acting on a tip from Brother Ox, entered the hospital room, his face an emotionless mask.
"Where is Chan Ho Nam?" he asked Little Bee's mother.
"I… I don't know," she trembled.
"Liar." He pulled a gun, aiming it at Little Bee's sister. "Talk. Or you all die."
"No!" the mother screamed, throwing herself in front of her daughter. "Please, leave her alone!"
BANG! BANG!
Two flat, merciless gunshots ended everything.
When Ho Nam and Tachibana returned, they walked into a slaughterhouse. Little Bee's mother and sister lay in a pool of blood. Little Bee herself, having just woken up, was screaming hysterically next to their bodies.
Ho Nam froze. All emotion drained from him, replaced by a cold, black rage that chilled the air. Eva. And now this. He connected the dots. Who knew about her family? Who hated him enough? Who was depraved enough to sell that information to the Sankō-gumi?
There was only one name.
Brother Ox.
Ho Nam turned to Tachibana, his face terrifyingly calm. "Do me a favor."
"What is it?"
"Find me Brother Ox."
"What for?"
Chan Ho Nam gripped the hilt of his dagger, his eyes like two bottomless pits of ice.
"So I can tear him apart."