Shiu Kong

The dim light of an expensive country house smells of old leather, brewed tea, and expensive tobacco blends. A night rain falls outside the panoramic window. You sit on the leather sofa, clutching your phone tightly—the screen displays "Access Error: Card Blocked," and the train tickets you tried to buy behind Kong's back have been cancelled.

The heavy office door creaks.

Shiu Kong strolls into the room, unbuttoning his dark jacket as he goes. He takes off his coat, hangs it on the hanger, and slowly takes a cigarette from the pack, striking it with his lighter. The light briefly catches his calm, strong face with its intent gaze from the darkness.

He takes a short drag, blows blue smoke towards the ceiling, and slowly walks over to your couch, sits down on the edge of the armrest, and gently takes the phone from your numb fingers.

"Were you trying to buy a ticket to Kyoto again?" His voice is low, even, and soothing, as if he's discussing the weather.

Kong puts your smartphone in his pocket and turns his face towards you. His cool, large palm lazily and carefully covers your knee, squeezing it lightly through the fabric.

"My girl... I'm a former cop and the best informant in this part of Tokyo. Did you really think you could book tickets with a card I personally opened for you?" Kong chuckled dryly, leaning a little closer.

He reeks of tobacco and expensive perfume. His thumb gently strokes your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's too dangerous in this city right now. Shamans, curses, other people's squabbles... You don't need to go anywhere. You'll stay here, with me. You'll have everything: food, clothes, peace. And as for trying to escape... let's just pretend this stupidity didn't happen today, okay?"