15 Chapter 14:Crouching Tiger...Undead Dragon...

(Flashback - One week prior...)

In the vibrant and bustling streets of downtown Chinatown, Cheng weaved through the crowd with a confident stride.

Cheng arrived at the Crouching Tiger Casino, a known hub in the underworld of New York.

The two formidable Asian bodyguards at the entrance acknowledged him with a nod, recognizing his affiliation.

Inside, the casino buzzed with activity.

The sounds of slot machines, card games, and the chatter of gamblers filled the air. Cheng navigated through the maze of games, acknowledging staff members with a nod, his focus unwavering.

He made his way to a back room, guarded by two more men, engrossed in a baseball game and casually cleaning their guns.

Upon Cheng's arrival, one of the guards, Minh, greeted him with a smirk and a chilling jest. "Ah, bitty boy, you've come. Sit, sit, you've just made it for the second inning," he said, pointing his gun playfully at Cheng.

Cheng swallowed hard but maintained his composure. "Always the comedian, Minh. I've got business with the boss. And here, gifts for you both," he said, offering high-end cigarettes as a peace offering.

Minh, however, was not easily swayed. The cold metal of the gun pressed against Cheng's temple. "You think you can buy me off with some shoddy cigarettes..." he sneered, tightening his grip on the weapon.

Cheng, sweat beading on his brow, tried to defuse the situation. "Of course not. It's just a token of appreciation for last time," he stammered.

Minh's response was a cruel trick, a mock execution that left Cheng momentarily paralyzed with fear.

"Hahaha, relax, bitty boy. We're family, aren't we?" Minh tapped Cheng's cheek with the gun, his demeanour shifting from threatening to teasing. "You should go. The boss wouldn't like to be kept waiting."

Cheng, relieved yet rattled, nodded and proceeded through the double doors into the opulent inner sanctum of the casino. He was greeted by a lavish room, adorned in gold, red, and purple.

The boss, a man of imposing stature and refined brutality, lounged in the centre of the room.

His presence commanded respect and fear, accentuated by the five golden rings on each hand and his expensive attire.

A masseuse tended to the boss, while a subordinate, a man reduced to a mere shadow of himself, wiped his shoes.

"Ah, my favourite runner, Fang-Mou. Come, make yourself comfortable," the boss said, his smile friendly but his eyes calculating.

"So tell me, how's business been since we've taken over the east side." The boss asked while enjoying the massage the beautiful massuer was giving him.

Cheng, now seated opposite the boss, began to report on the operations." Things have been going great on the East Side, profits have increased around 22% compared to..."

He detailed the success of the East Lower Side and the plans to conquer the West. As he spoke, the boss listened intently, his expression unreadable.

The air in the room was heavy with unspoken threats and the weight of the criminal empire they were building.

Cheng, aware of the precarious nature of his position, chose his words carefully, aiming to solidify his value to the boss.

Cheng, having finished his report, waited with bated breath for the boss's response.

The boss, a man whose smile often masked his deadly intentions, gazed at Cheng with an unreadable expression.

Then, breaking the silence, he embarked on a monologue, his voice laced with the confidence and menace of a seasoned villain.

"You remind me of myself when I was younger," the boss mused, his eyes studying Cheng.

Cheng's face lit up momentarily, only to be replaced by a sense of dread as the boss casually inquired about his mother. "She's doing well, though she still treats me like I'm a child," Cheng replied, trying to mask his unease.

The boss chuckled. "Ah, mothers and their instincts to care for their babies. But let me ask you, Fang-Mou," he said, leaning forward, his tone turning serious. "If a family member working under you stole from you, what would you do?"

Cheng hesitated, sensing the gravity behind the question. He considered his response carefully before replying, "I would cut them out of my life."

The room fell into a chilling silence, punctuated only by the whimpering pleas of the man cleaning the boss's shoes.

The boss's laughter broke the tension, a sound that sent shivers down Cheng's spine. "Exactly, Fang-Mou! When family betrays you, you have no choice but to cut them out."

Without warning, the boss grabbed a gun from the table and shot the pleading man point-blank in the temple.

Cheng flinched, fighting the urge to vomit, aware that any sign of weakness could turn the boss's wrath toward him.

The boss sighed, a gesture of mock regret.

"It's heartbreaking, but necessary to prevent rot from within my empire." He snapped his fingers, summoning a stoic boy no older than ten.

Before the boy could drag the body away, the boss stopped him, gazing intently into his lifeless eyes. "Such beautiful, broken eyes," he murmured. "But there's one pair I've never seen broken."

The conversation shifted back to Grim. "You said my property is still alive. Where is he?" the boss demanded, his voice now stern and expectant.

Cheng swallowed hard, replying, "He escaped before I could bring him to you, boss."

The boss's demeanour changed, a twisted joy spreading across his face. "Ah, Grim, my prized fighter, still alive! This calls for a celebration. Our family will be reunited."

His laughter filled the room, revealing the depth of his madness. "You have one week, Fang Mou. Bring Grim back to me, or face the consequences."

Cheng, heart pounding, vowed to fulfil the task. "I won't disappoint you, boss. He'll be here, even if I have to drag him by his hair."

With those final words, Cheng was dismissed. He bowed and left the room, his mind racing with the daunting task ahead.

The boss, left alone, burst into maniacal laughter.

His eyes gleamed with a mix of insanity and anticipation. "Grim, my precious property, our reunion will be exquisite."