Legitimate business

Dragon City was an enclave between Lingnan and Hong Kong and Kowloon, right at the northern tip of the Kowloon Peninsula, with Lingnan adjoining its other side.

When the people of the Empire arrived all those years ago, they had crudely carved off Hong Kong Island for military and economic purposes, paying no attention to the Kowloon Peninsula in the broader sense.

But people were not immortals, after all. They needed food, water, and places to live. With large numbers of migrants heading south as well, Hong Kong-Kowloon City gradually expanded northward.

It ran into trouble at Dragon City. This had originally been a military fortress, and although Zhongzhou was in turmoil, public sentiment ran high. The Lingnan authorities would never allow it to be ceded, and the imperial authorities did not want to fall out with Lingnan either.

Thus, although Dragon City belonged administratively to Hong Kong and Kowloon, it became a no-man's-land where the Hong Kong and Kowloon authorities had no right to govern, the Jiedushi of Lingnan had no desire to govern, and the local populace refused to be governed.

The fortress soon became a residential district, which in turn kept encroaching on Hong Kong-Kowloon City, completely cutting off the physical space between Hong Kong and Kowloon and Lingnan. Any supplies entering Hong Kong-Kowloon City by land had to pass through it.

Through mediation between the various parties, the Dragon City Management Committee was established here, with several members acceptable to all sides selected to exercise actual administration.

Of course, that was only on the surface. In reality, undercurrents always surged here. It was a paradise for adventurers and ambitious men, an ecosystem where the capable rose and the incapable fell and perished.

Chen Ying looked at the dense mass of buildings ahead and felt a wave of helplessness.

Thousands of buildings were packed tightly together, leaving only narrow paths wide enough for two or three people abreast. The pedestrians coming and going turned this concrete jungle into a true maze.

"Mr. Lu really is something, keeping this place under his control. No wonder he was officially given the rank of major general and called Zhong Kui. Without the ability to fight ghosts, you couldn't keep this palace of hell in line."

Chen Ying patted the crossbody bag slung over his shoulder. One packet of the premium Two Lions Holding the Globe goods was inside.

"So much human presence."

Uncle Qing stood beside him, a dim light flickering in his eyes.

"Brother Ying, what now?"

Hua Shanrong gazed at the concrete forest ahead.

"We do what we agreed."

Chen Ying looked behind him. Uncle Qing had already confirmed that nothing was tailing them. Neither humans nor ghosts had followed.

That meant he had guessed correctly and seized upon the most important factor: time.

Plunging into Dragon City's crowds, Chen Ying walked briskly ahead.

Dragon City was a chaotic place, but it had its own rules. For many illegal dealings, as long as you found the right person, things got done frighteningly fast.

The man Chen Ying wanted was named Lin Jin. He ran a hot pot restaurant in Dragon City.

Of course, like most business owners in Dragon City, he had two parallel lines of business.

Besides the hot pot restaurant, Lin Jin was also a well-known arms dealer and manpower broker in Dragon City. If you wanted weapons or hired help, his name carried weight in the trade.

There was another very important point: Lin Jin held a nominal position in Wo On Sing, making him, in theory, Hua Shanrong's fellow brother.

Hua Shanrong had heard of him and had even come here twice with his boss, Fat Bear. He led the way.

By the time Chen Ying pushed away the ninth hand trying to pick his pocket, Hua Shanrong finally found the hot pot restaurant.

At Lin's Fragrant Meat Shop, several scantily clad girls were tidying the tables and chairs. When they saw Chen Ying's group arrive, they did not forget to throw them a few flirtatious looks.

"Fuck, pick a better time to get horny."

A short, fat man with a face covered in moles emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a grease-stained apron.

"Here to eat? Our dog meat hot pot is famous in Dragon City. Nourishes yin and boosts yang. Afterward, find a few girls for a rubdown..."

"Brother Jin, it's me, Hua Shanrong..."

"Hua Shanrong?"

The middle-aged man knitted his brows.

"Never heard of you. Which outfit are you with...?"

This guy really knows how to play dumb.

That was Chen Ying's assessment of Lin Jin.

Others might not know Hua Shanrong, but Lin Jin certainly did. It was Dragon City's Lu Zhengxing who had protected Hua Shanrong. Lin Jin made his living in Dragon City and was a Wo On Sing member. How could he not know?

Clearly, he had something else in mind.

"Oh... the one who worked under Brother Fat Bear..."

Lin Jin forced a smile onto his face.

"Brother Rong, what business have you brought my way?"

"This isn't the place to talk." Hua Shanrong looked around. "Let's talk inside."

"Sure, sure. Get a private room and we can chat over a meal."

"No need for that."

Lin Jin led the three into the restaurant and found a private room where they sat down. Hua Shanrong lightly tapped the table. He sat in the central seat and lightly tapped the table, while Chen Ying and Uncle Qing stood behind him like a pair of bodyguards.

"Brother Jin, you know our branch doesn't have much talent. With Brother Fat Bear gone, everyone's scattered like monkeys from a fallen tree. The uncles told me to take out Fire Dragon. How could I manage that? I've got no choice but to ask for your help."

Hua Shanrong picked up a glass and poured himself some hot water, crossing his legs as he looked at Lin Jin opposite him.

"It's not that I don't stand by my brothers. I just run a dog meat restaurant and make a little money to feed my family. Since you're asking, Brother Rong, I can give you all the dogs you want, but I've got no short dogs."

Because "dog" sounded like the foreign word for a gun, the Hong Kong and Kowloon underworld customarily called handguns "short dogs" and long guns "long dogs."

"I know feeding a family isn't easy, Brother Jin, so I'd never put you in a difficult position."

Hua Shanrong took the packet out of Chen Ying's pocket and placed it on the table.

"Here. Two Lions Holding the Globe, genuine premium goods from Siam. Wonder if I could trade this for a few weapons and hire a few hands through you."

Gulp.

Lin Jin's double chin shifted, his beady eyes sweeping greedily over the red logo.

"Brother Rong, this stuff..."

"Brother Jin, we answer to the same patriarch, so I'm giving you special consideration. The purity is beyond question. One of the association's uncles is secretly backing me. After all, this stuff is more convenient than handing over cash."

Hua Shanrong recited the lines Chen Ying had taught him.

"Brother Jin, name your price?"

Lin Jin took out a crumpled handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Brother Rong, you know Dragon City's rules. When this stuff changes hands, the management committee takes half first, then the distributors take another thirty percent. I get twenty percent at most."

"A packet goes for a hundred thousand in Dragon City. I can leave you ten thousand at most."

"Whoa, Brother Jin, you're not playing me, are you? Ordinary stuff cut with flour goes for a hundred thousand. This is Two Lions Holding the Globe. It's worth at least two hundred thousand. Sell it on the streets in Hong Kong and Kowloon and you'll make more than three hundred thousand."

"I trust you, but the buyers don't. There's testing, repackaging-such a headache. Tell you what, I'll give you a little more. Thirty thousand. Do you want cash or hardware?"

"Like I said, no point going to two people for one job. I'll leave both the money and the men to you."

"All right, wait a moment."

Lin Jin stood up and pulled a small menu from his trouser pocket.

"Thanks for bringing me business, Brother Rong. Take a look at the menu. Thompson submachine gun, called the Chicago Typewriter in the United States. Fifteen hundred apiece. You know it's obsolete stock, so it's cheap. All the ammunition is handmade by our master craftsmen in Dragon City, just five dollars a round."

"Fusang's Kunitomo gun, sixteen hundred and fifty apiece. Takes twenty rounds at a time. You know they're in what they call the Warring States period over there, fighting back and forth. This one's battle-tested. High muzzle velocity, but it isn't accurate. Get close and blast the motherfucker all the same."

"Here, our own Zhongzhou-made Zhongwu Type 56 submachine gun, a copy of Tsarist Russia's Akayev assault rifle. Powerful enough to kill an elephant with a burst, and I've got the only folding-stock version in all Dragon City. You know my wife's related to Section Chief Li in the Lingnan Jiedushi's Ordnance Department. Absolutely standard-issue weapons, well maintained. But these cost more: two thousand."

"Honestly, even I feel I'm losing out selling them. Any working stiff in Hong Kong and Kowloon can save for six months and buy a gun from me. Real quality at a bargain price. I'd call myself a champion of justice."

Hua Shanrong chuckled. "Brother Jin, spare yourself the sales pitch. We'll take the Zhongwu Type 56, but you'd better have them in stock. I want five, with six magazines per gun. That comes to..."

"Five dollars a round, thirty rounds in a magazine makes a hundred and fifty. A full load for five guns comes to forty-five hundred. Five Zhongwu Type 56s cost ten thousand, for a total of fourteen thousand five hundred. Wow, Brother Rong, what an auspicious number. No rounding down."

"I'll add five hundred. Give me the goods right now."

"That urgent?"

Lin Jin chuckled. "A lot of them are in the warehouse. How about waiting until tomorrow?"

"I can't wait. If Fire Dragon gets wind of this and runs to Lingnan to lie low, won't all this have been for nothing? I need them today."

Hua Shanrong frowned. "If you're having trouble, Brother Jin, maybe I should go elsewhere?"

Lin Jin hurriedly smiled. "No trouble. But Brother Rong, it's just you, one brother, and one old uncle. You need five guns?"

"That's why I need you to supply more men. I'll give you the remaining fifteen thousand too. Find me four sharp shooters and have them meet me here tomorrow."

Hua Shanrong handed over a slip of paper.

"As it happens, there's a team of brothers over from the mainland. I heard they lost a battle and urgently need money."

Lin Jin took the slip and glanced at it.

"You don't come by often, Brother Rong. Why don't I treat you tonight..."

"No need. Just hurry up and hand over the goods. I've still got to scout the place later."

Hua Shanrong shook his head. "The uncles only gave me a month. If Fire Dragon gets away, I won't be able to answer to them."

Lin Jin nodded. He stood right up, opened the freezer in the private room, and took out several packs of beer. Then he pulled out several large canvas bags and opened them, revealing brand-new guns with blued finishes.

"Wow, Brother Jin, a true arms-dealing dynasty. Keeping them in the freezer! Aren't you afraid the customers will drink too much beer and start a fight?"

"Give me a break. This room isn't open to customers. It's just for business talks. Perfectly safe."

The two soon divided up the guns, and Hua Shanrong handed him the packet of Two Lions Holding the Globe, settling the deal. After another display of mutual affection, they finally parted with seeming reluctance.

Chen Ying and Uncle Qing each carried a bag, while Hua Shanrong led the way toward Hong Kong and Kowloon.

He kicked an empty can off the roadside.

"That bastard Lin Jin ripped me off. Two thousand for a lousy gun! Everyone knows his wife screwed her way into getting those guns. Relatives at the Lingnan Jiedu Office, my ass. A special 'big brother,' more like. Who knows how much he'll make off that packet..."

Hua Shanrong looked at Chen Ying.

"Brother Ying, where are we staying tonight to wait for those gunmen?"

"That was a diversion. It's just the three of us. Buying extra guns and hiring men was only to use Lin Jin to fool anyone paying attention, make them think we're not acting until tomorrow."

As Chen Ying spoke, Uncle Qing nodded slightly beside him.

"Wow, Brother Ying, is that military strategy too?"

Chen Ying nodded.

"Didn't you tell me Mah Yau Wu partnered with a few big bosses to open a gold shop? It's still early. We'll go rob his gold shop."

"Brother Ying, didn't you say you wanted to be a businessman doing legitimate business?"

"Of course it's legitimate business. These guns count as our startup capital." Chen Ying looked at Hua Shanrong. "High risk, high returns. Uncle Qing, come on. Let's go start the car."