Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 20

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The sky was a dull abnegation grey, puffs of smoke released from factory chimneys. Signs advertising ‘ Coffee &
Dimsum ” were fixed on the same cobbled roads, now paved with horse manure. Shu weaved in between those
irritating traders, managing a slow stroll, enjoying the eyes watching him. He was playing a game some may call
risky, but Shu had calculated the probability; he had a nice advantage and several surprises in store.
Taking a turn and walking down the same abandoned alleyway, he was finally alone. Waiting. Slowly, two men
appeared, both masked. Shu rolled his eyes, plastering a smile coated with venom.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe it! I wonder who told on me? Ben and Liao, it’s nice to meet you again.” Shu
winked, voice dripping in poisonous sarcasm.
“Mr Zhou’s daughters happily gave us all the information we needed.” Ben said smugly. “Wait- how does he
know-”
The eagle-tattooed man elbowed Ben, standing up straighter and putting on his big-boy pants. “We see you’ve
taken a liking to us. Names? Wow. Now give us your money and land and we’re all good.” Those two idiots…
Shu put his hands deep into his pockets, enjoying the hot gazes. “Did you know I’m particularly skilled in the fine
art of security?” The two man cocked their heads. The masks really were useless. “Ah, I can’t expect you dimwits
would understand. Let me say this very slowly, keyi? You. Are. So. Screwed.”
Liao tried to look intimidating, “We have knives. And more people coming. We’re just ploys…” Then, as if
realising his mistake, he froze. Rookies. “I mean- No! We’re actually officials. Yes! We’ll get you good, Shu.
See, we know your name. Ha! We know your signature mafia moves. Well, we’ve got you good- Where did he
go?”
By then, Shu was already gone. He had shot the three other men through the heads and vanished into the metallic
air.
The infamous Single-Man Mafia had no mercy, but he got the job over and done with.