Chương 66: Only good things to come

“Damn, that party was great!”

“Yep, Yi Le even threw up.”

“That wasn’t just ’cause I drank a few shots, okay?! Jin Jin pushed me onto that girl’s chest, who slapped me all the way to the champagne fountain where I ended up gulping half of it down!”

“You should try making up more realistic lies…”

Four men are finishing their night at a dimly lit Chinese restaurant. The scent of fried garlic and simmering broths lingers in the air.

At this time, way past midnight, it’s probably the only place that is still open on this side of the island.

They seem to be aged from 20 to 35 years old. Dressed casually in jeans and loose shirts, their imposing tattoos peek through, hinting at their affiliations. Anyone who sees them would know who they are.

Speaking a casual Wu dialect that shares similarities with Japanese, they laugh boisterously, their voices echoing in the near-empty restaurant.

Such audacity…

“Hey, Jin Jin, give me a bite. Just one shrimp, okay? I’ll pay you back!”

“No way! Last time I did, you never paid me back! It’s your fault for blowing all your money in one evening!”

The youngest munches noisily on a bowl of seafood, savouring each bite.

The second merely sips a glass of water, his eyes glancing enviously at the others.

The third and fourth are sharing pickles and steaming Chinese gyozas, their plates cluttered with leftovers.

They don’t seem ready to leave anytime soon.

“Waitress!” The youngest shouts.

“What, you’re not going to order more, are you?!” The second exclaims. “Or is it for me??”

“Shut up, it’s for me and only for me! Waitress?”

The waitress doesn’t appear.

“Maybe she’s in the bathroom.” The oldest shrugs, taking a sip from his own drink.

“I would walk to the kitchen, but if I do, Yi Le is going to finish my bowl!” The youngest protests, guarding his food.

“I can’t deny that…”

“I’ll go then.” The third offers, standing up. “What do you want?”

“You’re too kind, shixiong~!” The second sighs dreamily.

“More rice!”

He nods and walks towards the kitchen, the sound of his shoes faint against the restaurant’s tiled floor.

“I can’t believe he didn’t ask me what I wanted…” The second laments, swirling the remaining water in his glass.

“That’s because you’re not going to pay! And if you don’t pay, who is going to foot the bill? Not us!” The first responds, fork poised mid-air.

“What about you, dai shixiong…? Won’t you cover your adorable little shidi…?”

“I’m broke too; it’s Mu Min who’s going to pay.”

The younger two gaze at him, their eyes wide as if they’ve lost all respect for their elder.

“Mu Min?”

“Is that shixiong’s nickname??”

“It comes from a European manhua … doesn’t it sound cute?”

They glance at each other, expressions rife with confusion.

The youngest picks up his phone, fingers rapidly tapping as he starts searching on the internet.

“I can’t find anything on this Mu Min…”

“How did you type it? Show me.”

“Dude, it’s European, so you won’t find it unless you type in pinyin, you moron.”

“Shut up. I still can’t find anything.”

The oldest sighs, extends his arm, and snatches the phone. After a few quick taps, he shows them the screen.

“What the hell is this?”

“Is that a real creature?”

“A hippopotamus?”

“It stands on two legs.”

The oldest massages his temples. “It doesn’t matter what animal it is. It’s adorable, okay?”

“Shixiong, are you a furry?”

“You sure have bizarre taste.”

“Shut up. Wait… Hasn’t it been a while since Mu Min left?”

“I mean, the kitchen is right there. He can’t have gotten lost, can he?”

“What’s taking him so long, though?”

“Should we check on him?”

“I’m not moving! I’m watching my bowl! SHIXIONG, ARE YOU OKAY?!”

Silence.

“Yi Le, come with me.” The oldest motions, his brow furrowed.

“Alright…” The second nods hesitantly, and together, they cautiously make their way towards the kitchen.

When they step inside, a chilling scene confronts them–a sea of blood.

“What the hell happened here?!”

The scene resembles a macabre painting. It’s as if all the meat the restaurant was saving to cook one day had been brutally drained, the air now thick with a metallic stench.

Or, more disturbingly, as if human beings had been systematically bled out.

Under a stainless steel counter, the body of the third man lies sprawled.

“Mu Min!” The oldest cries out, rushing to his side.

Gently turning him over, a horrifying sight meets them. Mu Min’s face is drenched in blood; his eyes gruesomely gouged out. His once distinct tattoo, a mark of pride, is now obliterated, stabbed repeatedly until the original design is unrecognizable.

“I can’t believe Mu Min is fucking dead!” The second chokes out, tears forming.

“Quiet! Someone else is here! We need to get back to Jin Jin!!”

They race out of the kitchen, only to find Jin Jin, motionless, his head resting on the table.

“Jin Jin must’ve been so exhausted he dozed off! What a champ!”

“What are you talking about?!” The oldest yells, pointing to the ominous trail of blood seeping from under Jin Jin’s chair.

Hauling the boy’s face up reveals a mirrored fate - eyes violently gouged and skin brutalized.

“Who the hell-?” The oldest begins, but his words are cut short by a sudden, searing pain in his back. Twisting around, he locks eyes with Yi Le, who now sports a sinister grin, gleefully retracting a butterfly knife from the elder’s torso.

“Yi… Le…?”

The boy smears his bloodied hand across his cheek, leaving a gruesome streak. “Wrong!” He cackles. “My name is NANAYA!” With a maniacal fervour, he plunges his knife repeatedly into the man, ensuring a fatal end. “And my rank is Oni!”

After the brutal act, he stretches contentedly. “TSUKI, come out now!”

I emerge from the shadows above, gracefully landing beside the fresh corpse. With practised precision, I use my dagger to deftly remove the man’s eyes.

“Ohime-sama will be pleased.” I murmur.

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“Hehehe,” NANAYA giggles, his voice dripping with malice, “You’re so sly…”

“And you? This man was gone by the third stab. Seventeen was overkill.”

“Don’t get me wrong; I’m not criticizing! I adore your flair!”

I nod, impassive. “Likewise.”

NANAYA saunters to the rear of the restaurant, revealing the lifeless forms of the waitress and the cook, their demise coming from poison, leaving them bloodless.

“Why such a fixation on their tattoos?” He inquires, removing his blood-soaked shirt.

“What’s hidden should remain concealed.” I reply.

I study NANAYA, admiring his unexpected muscularity, his strength evident despite his deceptive appearance.

A vivid tattoo of an oni, the ogres from Japanese folklore, adorns his back, contrasted by an adjacent elegant princess basking in moonlight.

“I don’t fret over them.” NANAYA comments, slipping on a clean shirt from the kitchen. “They’re mere shadows of us. And we know no imitation can ever rival the original.”

He smears his raven-black hair, unconcerned about the blood smeared in its strands, and breaks into wild, unhinged laughter.

“I’m not entirely convinced…” I whisper back.

 

---

 

We return to the bunker and attempt to rouse Abhi gently.

“W-what’s going on…?” He mumbles, rubbing his sleep-heavy eyes.

“We found somewhere to stay; we need to leave now. Gather all the essentials.” Boobies says with a reassuring smile.

He lifts his head, looking around with bleary eyes. “I can’t take everything… All the books… Nila’s books…”

His gaze settles on me and he rubs his eyes a second time.

“Weird…” He murmurs, then reclines back onto the couch.

“What are you doing, Abhi? We have to go. Wake up!”

“I’m still dreaming… There’s an imposter…”

“No, you’re very much awake!” Boobies insists.

“Oi… Abhobho…” I tease, poking his forehead. “That wasn’t kind… I missed you, you know? We haven’t even wrapped up Mecha Dinosaur Impact…”

Suddenly, his eyes spring open. “What the hell, you’re really here?! Schwa!!”

“Please Abhi, be good. She’s going to live with us now.” Schwa sighs. “Also, you can’t be fussy now because we’re crashing at someone else’s place. So get dressed and collect your stuff.”

Abhi grumbles but agrees.

The thought of seeing Abhi in casual attire excites me!

True to my anticipation, he reemerges a minute later with a bulging backpack, headphones slung around his neck. He’s donned an oversized sweatshirt paired with comfy sweatpants and running shoes.

He’s the very picture of comfort over style. Just like me!

“Abhi, you’re utterly adorable~ I could just gobble you up!” I exclaim, scooping him into a playful embrace.

“Lay off, you weirdo!”

“I never pegged you for the sporty type. Didn’t know you wore athletic gear, uhuhu!” I tease.

“Enough!” He stammers, face reddening. “I used to run, okay!”

Boobies, having overheard, chimes in with a grin. “Oh right! You ran with Nila, right?”

I turn quizzically to her. “Who’s that? One of his buddies? It’s news to me that you had friends! Kudos, Abhobho!”

“He’s not my friend!”

Boobies chuckles. “Nila is his uncle. We used to all live together until recently.”

“Ah, makes sense. Now that I think about it, you never mentioned how you two crossed paths.”

“That’s a tale for another time…” Boobies says wistfully. “But weren’t you ever curious? What if he was my son?” She smirks, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

“I always assumed as much.” I admit earnestly. “You’ve always seemed like a mother-son duo to me. Plus, he’s such a darling. With that snowy hair and sapphire eyes, he’s your spitting image!”

“I … kind of felt that way too…” Abhi murmurs, cheeks aflame.

“What?!” Boobies gasps, taken aback.

Avoiding her gaze, Abhi adds, “That’s how I’ve always seen you… And Nila too…” Tears threaten to spill from his eyes.

This conversation is taking a risky turn.

“We should head out, right? Are we all packed?” I interject, trying to redirect the conversation.

Boobies nods. “I’ll get the guys to handle the books. We can’t just leave the bunker exposed, so we’ll torch it. Make sure to grab everything essential or better yet, discard what isn’t.”

A pang of realization hits me.

Things I can let go of…

Once the Chinese crew has carted off the books, canned goods, and surplus clothing, and with Abhi waiting outside, it’s down to Schwa and me to incinerate the bunker.

Schwa takes a deep breath. “I’ll genuinely miss this place. So many cherished memories.”

Her gaze drifts over the mannequins and displayed weaponry, a hint of sorrow in her eyes.

“I return to you this talwar…” She murmurs, dousing the area with oil.

Placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, I reassure, “New memories await us. And there’s something I must let go of too.”

Abruptly, I yank off my tie—the very same tie that was a gift from my sister, a tangible manifestation of the strained threads that bind us, the singular entity in this world that I harbour the most disdain for. I can feel every agonized heartbeat, every shattered dream, and every unspoken word woven intricately in its fabric—a constant, suffocating reminder of the past we share, and the agony that came with it.

“Farewell, past me.”

I murmur, my voice steadying with the resolved declaration, filled with raw and jagged emotion. The tie lies there, lonely and tragic on the cold bunker floor, a silent witness to years of torment and resentment.

Then, in a breath that seems to summon the courage of lifetimes, I seize the opportunity for liberation, the tangible act of cutting away the burdensome chain that has anchored me to a swirling sea of despair. With an act as final as it is freeing, I ignite the end of the tie, watching as it catches fire, the flames eagerly devouring the symbol of my shackled past.

The fire dances wildly, painting a tapestry of shadows and light across the bunker walls, reflecting perhaps, the tumultuous storm that has raged within me for so long. It is a mesmerizing, terrible, and yet utterly beautiful sight as the fiery tendrils lovingly caress and then consume the cloth, reducing it to nothing but ashes.

Like the mythical phoenix, a creature of legend born from flames and destined to rise renewed and resolute from the scorched remains of its former self, I feel a rebirth beckoning from the depths of my being.

As the last threads of the tie are swallowed up, reducing to nothing but whispering smoke and a few ember-kissed fragments, a simmering heat blooms in the pit of my stomach, radiating outward until every inch of my being is vibrating with a fierce, pulsating life force.

I am breaking free, casting away the suffocating cocoon woven from threads of expectation, resentment, and familial bonds so forcibly imposed. I am ready to emerge, baptized by fire, no longer the person confined by the strictures of past grief, but someone new, someone fiercely alive and untamed.

In this molten moment of catharsis, amidst the rising chorus of crackling flames, I sense my spirit unfurling, stretching wide, and taking flight—rising from the bitter ashes of the past, ready to soar into the uncharted heavens of a future unburdened and newly forged in the crucible of fiery self-determination.

I am no longer the embodiment of agonized history; I am a rebirth, a fresh start, a being with wings ready to carve out paths in skies untravelled. It is a beginning baptized by fire, a renewal of spirit tempered in flame—the rebirth of a soul untamed, unchained, and unstoppable.

Boobies looks at me, her eyes clouded with emotion. “You seem so different without it…”

“Thank you.” My lips curl into a smile.

That was precisely the intention.

Rushing to the back, Boobies returns holding two items.

“Remember the first time you came here and you tinkered with my hat? This one might be a better fit.” She places a light-gray cotton cap on my head. It nestles comfortably.

“One last touch.” She offers a vibrant blue choker, causing me to erupt in laughter. “Your neck seemed bare without some adornment…”

Gratefully, I accept. “Now we’re twinning.”

With a flick of a matchstick, Boobies ignites the rest of the bunker, her face illuminated by the burgeoning flames.

Only brighter days lie ahead.

With the sun cresting the horizon, we race out, our laughter echoing in the early morning air.

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