Lokyan, Haozhe, Faijun, Pangfua and Yutai climbed a short flight of stairs. On the first landing, a hologram played flat against the wall: a naked woman rendered in shifting white vertical lines, her body moving in a slow, teasing loop. Above it was the characters spelling ‘Kowlooni Grey Hats,’ blinking with a glitch-like animation. Behind the projections, just visible through the light, Yutai spotted the outline of a maintenance door.
‘Kowlooni Grey Hats?’ Yutai said as they passed it. ‘Sounds familiar. They the hosts?’
‘They run these parties every menses-cycle,’ Haozhe explained. ‘You only get invited if you’re on their Buhexei server. That’s where I met the DJ.’
Yutai leaned towards Pang and gave his shoulder a tap. ‘You on this Buhexei server too, then?’
To his surprise, Pang flinched at the tap. Yutai frowned at once. ‘No, I’m not,’ Pang said quickly.
‘What’s got you so jumpy?’ Yutai asked with a low voice. ‘You just reacted like an abused mutt.’
‘Yeah, sorry. This place is just a bit dark, that’s all.’
Yutai pressed his lips together and looked ahead. He’s never reacted like that.
Past the top landing, they moved through a set of doors and onto the main floor. Yutai had expected noise, bass, bodies. Instead, the room was an eerie quiet.
Polished black flooring stretched beneath strobing purple light. A few security men stood posted around the edges, hands clasped in front of them, watching the arrivals. One of them stood by an open set of doors and waved them over.
‘Through here, boys,’ he said.
As they approached, the man tipped his head towards the doorway beside him. ‘You lot know the drill?’
‘Yeah, don’t worry,’ Haozhe replied, already leading them through.
Inside, rows upon rows of reclined seats spread across the floor. Hundreds of them. Most were occupied. People were sunk into the chairs with thick black goggles strapped over their heads, its visors sweeping down almost to their lips. Under the low purple ambience, everyone looked peacefully asleep. The room was cold enough to raise the hairs on the arms, and there was barely any sound at all.
Yutai slowed, taking it all in. ‘Right. So this is the party.’
‘Told you it wasn’t like anywhere you’ve been,’ Pang replied under his breath.
They moved down the middle aisle, scanning for empty spots. Near the centre, Lokyan lifted a finger. ‘There.’
They squeezed between a row. Yutai’s legs brushed against the edges of shoes as they walked down the middle and sat down in it. The chair hugged Yutai’s body at once, warm and snug.
The empty recliners were sleek and moulded, chrome casing with soft black upholstery, fitted with armrests, a head cradle, and the thick suspended-reality rig hanging overhead. Pang took the seat to his left, Haozhe to his right.
Haozhe leaned forward. ‘Wait for the server to come around before you strap in,’ he instructed Yutai. He looked around and saw a man approach them with a tray in his hand. When the server was in front of them, he gave each a small white pill and water in small paper cups.
Yutai held the tablet between his fingers, eyeing it. ‘What is this?’
‘Arrests your mind,’ Haozhe said as he swallowed it with the water and passing the empty cup to the server. ‘You can’t enter Suspended Reality without it.’
‘Arrest the mind,’ Yutai repeated.
Haozhe nodded. ‘And when the session ends, you get up feeling properly strange. Psychedelic, basically. That’s when the live partying starts in the other room.’
Yutai watched the others take theirs. Lokyan tipped his back with a grin. Faijun swallowed his without a sound. Pang followed a moment later. They returned their cups to the server reached for the headset at the same time.
‘Goodnight, boys,’ Lokyan said. ‘See you on the other side.’
Yutai clicked his tongue, dropped the pill onto his tongue, and washed it down.
The taste was faint and bitter. He returned his cup and the server walked away.
He reached up and pulled the rig down over his face. Darkness closed in. For a moment there was only the dull thud of his own pulse.
Then the chair shifted beneath him. A low vibration rolled through the backrest, followed by a steady massage along his spine, working his shoulders and back muscles.
Wow, a chair massager and a virtual reality set in one.
A screen flickered to life in front of his eyes.
Are you ready?
Beneath it glowed a single response:
Yes.
Yutai stared at it for only a second.
Then something touched the base of his neck. A pinprick, tiny and sharp.
The room vanished.
Yutai blinked awake.
He was no longer wearing the headset. He wasn’t even reclined any more. He was standing upright, the shift so sudden it felt less like entering a simulation and more like snapping out of a vivid dream.
He looked around.
He was standing in Ho Man Ting square.
Not a rough imitation, not some stylised version, but a near-perfect replica of the place where the Ibilis had made his public appearance. The buildings, the ledges, the broad open square that encased them in, it was all there. But now the place had been turned inside out. Music throbbed through the space without any visible source, as if it played right into his ear. Light spilled and glitched across the square in waves of violet, pink, ice blue, and acid green. Holograms flashed across the open air high above their heads. Flashing graffiti tags, emojis, stylistic banners, and animated adverts floated over the virtual architecture.
The square was packed to full capacity.
Virtual avatars filled it from edge to edge, hundreds of bodies moving under the flashing lights. But none looked like ordinary people. They all donned virtual skins. Zany customisations. Yutai spotted a group of dancers with green, blue and red skin and massive horns, while others put on the skin of famous people around Kowloon: celebrities, fictional characters, Yutai even spotted an avatar with the skin of General Cao in mythical looking golden armour.
Someone even took on the appearance of a massive rodent-man.
Yutai looked down at his palms. The hands weren’t his.
The skin tone was wrong. The folds in his palms were wrong. The sleeves hanging from his wrists were definitely not what he was wearing.
He reached into his pockets for his handheld device and check what his face looked like, but all he found was a small remote. He brought it up and saw only two buttons on its face:
Customise Avatar.
Abort Suspension.
As he stared at it, someone slammed into him from behind, hard enough to rock his shoulder. The remote slipped from his hand.
It vanished before it hit the ground.
A second later, he felt the weight of it in his pocket again. Yutai reached in and pulled it out, finding it in his hands once more.
He pressed the top button.
By the next blink, the music was gone.
Yutai found himself standing in a small changing room, like the sort you’d find in a clothing shop. He was facing a full-body mirror, but his reflection was wrong. A generic male face looked back at him, clean-shaven, with short, neat hair. The build was different too, shorter, closer to average height.
Beside the reflection of different body parts floated sets of sliders. Yutai turned to his right, thinking they were hanging in the air beside him, but there was nothing there. They existed only in the mirror’s reflection.
He reached towards the slider beside his reflected head. The moment his fingertip met its reflection, the slider moved with it. He dragged it to the right.
His peripheral became dark and his vision darkened. Yutai saw himself through the tint. He was wearing a space-warrior helmet from a video game he’d known. It felt weightless around his head.
He moved the slider further again.
The helmet vanished, replaced by red bandana, black streaks under his eyes, and a square jawline. Despite the rest of his body being the same default skin from the neck down, he had the face of a well known movie character named Lanbo.
Yutai glanced up at a slider at the very top. That one must change the entire outfit at once.
He lifted his hand to it and dragged it across.
In an instant, he became a hulking warrior in full metal battle armour, a sword the size of a door strapped across his back. Yet, just like the space helmet before it, none of it carried any real weight. It all sat on him like he wore nothing.
Definitely not partying in this though, he thought.
He moved the slider again.
His body switched to a character he recognised instantly: Lonk-Man Bu, the protagonist of a classic film series. Scruffy dark hair. White robes. A green plasma sword humming in his hand. Yutai gave it an experimental sweep and the weapon made the exact sound it did in the films. He smiled at how novel it was.
The next one caught him off guard for a different reason. He turned into a Kingmaker. Not anyone specific, just a generic athletic figure in a dark trench coat and peaked cap, golden stripes running down the sleeves.
Whoa. Strangely accurate outfit, he thought. But nothing exciting wearing the skin of something I get to wear everyday. Wonder what’s next.
He dragged the slider again.
The Ibilis.
Yutai froze.
It stared back at him through dark eyeholes. That same grotesque, grinning mask.
Pure horror seeped into Yutai. He changed it at once.
Chief Bobo. A cartoon character. An East Kowlooni boy with the soul of a rodent, who saves a colony of talking rodents in No Man’s Land from a mob of angry Kowloonis.
Yutai forced himself to breathe and studied the new reflection.
His height was taken down a notch. Almost the same height as Pangfua, with the youthful face of a teenager to match. His clothes had shifted into Bobo’s final-battle outfit: layered leather and cloth armour, with a spear slung across his back and a Vandal pistol at his hip.
This will do fine. Okay Yutai. Let’s head back.
He looked back and saw a closed door. He tried the handle and pushed, but it did not budge. The whole thing felt solid, as if the door had only been placed there for show, fixed against a wall with nothing behind it.
How the hell do I get out of here?
His outfit didn’t have pockets anymore. Where could that remote be?
A row of leather pouches hung from the rope belt at his waist. He checked them one by one until his fingers found something solid in the pouch on his right.
Gotcha.
He loosened the flap and pulled out the remote. Two new options glowed on its face.
Return to Main Server.
Abort Suspension.
He pressed the top one. The mirror in front of him flashed red.
The characters “Choose username” flashed in the mirror
A blank bar appeared over his head, with a keyboard floating in front of him.
He started typing. YungSheh003.
My old gamer tag.
He pressed the top button on the remote again.
There was no loading, no sensation of travel. He blinked and instantly teleported back into the thick of the party in Ho Man Ting square.
Music still thumped through the square without any visible source, just as before. Many of the massive floating holograms had changed now: giant pop-culture busts hovered above the crowd, animated women winking, devilish faces brooding, cartoon characters shifting and pulsing over everyone’s heads. Under their glow, people with their avatars collided and danced with one another. Yutai finally felt like he fit in with his new skin.
Through the translucent holograms, high on the university building, he could still see the ledge where the Ibilis had spoken to the city recently. It stood empty now, just another slab of rendered stone washed in party light.
Yutai stared at it blankly…
‘Ayy! Chief! Bobo! You good?’
A slurred voice came from his right, followed by a tug on his shoulder. A man had stumbled up beside him in an avatar customised to be unnaturally handsome. The face was too symmetrical, too polished, the kind of perfection that in real life would’ve screamed implants. But in here, it just meant he’d spent far too long in the changing room customising every facial feature. Sharp jawline and cheekbones, a dimple on the chin, perfect, wavy hair. His jacket shimmered with glittering highlights, and the rest of the fit matched it: designer trousers, designer shoes, not a cheap detail anywhere.
The man stood beside Yutai and followed his stare towards the ledge.
‘You keep lookin’ up there,’ his words melted into one another. ‘That ’cause of the Yang speech? Bit spooky, ainnit?’
Yutai gave him a flat look. ‘Maybe.’
The man flashed a smile, revealing diamonds encrusted in his teeth. He leaned closer to Yutai. ‘Yeah, I get it. Dark times. Bad politics. Makes girls go all thoughtful.’ He tapped his own chest. ‘Me, I’m a sensitive man myself. Was starin’ at the ledge just like you. Hard to dance when the world’s gone mad.’
Yutai frowned. ‘What are you on about?’
‘Luckily for you, I know how to help. I can tell you’re new here.’
The man reached behind Yutai’s ear. At first, he thought he was going to pull out a coin for a magic trick. But he drew his hand back and just gave Yutai a wink.
What did he do—
Warmth flushed into Yutai’s face. The entire square and all its groundscrapers tilted by half a degree. The music softened and then deepened, suddenly richer, looser, wrapping around his body instead of just filling the air. His limbs felt a fraction late, as if his balance had decided to become optional.
Yutai frowned as he wobbled foot to foot. ‘What d-did you just do?’
The man grinned. ‘Turned your drunkenness up a little. Relaxed you. You looked tense, baby.’
Yutai’s head swam hard enough that he had to steady himself. ‘You can… You can do that?’
‘Oh yeah,’ the man said. ‘Nothing too serious. Just helps with the vibe.’ His eyes dragged over Yutai’s Bobo skin. ‘How about we meet after this party and I’ll show you some more tricks?’
Yutai stared at him. Then it clicked.
‘Youuu think I’m a girl.’
The man blinked, still smiling. ‘Uh… yeah?’
‘Chief Bobo is a boy.’
‘Yeah, a boy every chick finds adorable,’ the man shot back. ‘Everyone knows the girls love making him their avatar. It’s cute. Maybe you can tell me your favourite scene from the Bobo movies over a call tonight.’
‘I’m a guy,’ Yutai said flatly. ‘And in case that’s not enough of a deterrent, I also don’t swing that way.’
The man let out a disbelieving laugh. ‘Oh, come on. You’re not a guy. You don’t have to pretend. I swear I’m really fucking attractive outside the simulation’s, too. This avatar’s modelled after me.’
‘I am a guy. Trust me, you don’t wanna flirt too hard and find out the hard way that my cock’s bigger than yours.’
The man’s smile slowly faltered. ‘I know you’re kidding,’ he began, newfound doubt in his voice. ‘You can’t just show up in a Bobo skin and not expect—’
‘Good to know only girls wear this. I guess I’ll have to change it right now.’
‘Hou. Light, go away,’ a new voice cut in.
Another avatar stepped between them before the drunk could answer. This one wore a sleek combat skin, dark and angular, with a compact helmet and smoked visor. The voice underneath was unmistakably female.
Hou rolled his eyes. ‘Yezu, I was just talking.’
‘I saw you adjusting her sobriety knob. Weren’t you given a warning last time? Go bother someone else.’
She grabbed his wrist but the man flicked it free. ‘She was about to give me her number!’
The woman shot her hand behind Hou’s ears. Instantly, he started rocking on his heels, pointing at her with a shaking finger.
‘Oh, n-no you d-didn’t—’
Before he could reach back and undo it, she shoved him hard into the crowd. He stumbled through a knot of dancers and crumbled into the mass.
‘And don’t come back!’ she called after him. Then she turned to Yutai. ‘You alright? Here, let me put your sobriety back to normal.’
Yutai leaned closer and she reached behind his ear.
‘I wasn’t going to give him anything, by the way,’ he said as she fiddled beside his head.
‘Yeah, I didn’t believe him.’
She straightened, and the false drunkenness melted out of Yutai almost at once.
‘He’s a creep, that one,’ she continued. ‘Light knows how Hou hasn’t been banned from the server yet. He gets reported at every event. We girls have to look out for each other in places like this when the rules stop protecting us, which is basically everywhere. Too many men like Hou lurking around.’
Yutai sighed. ‘Like I told the other guy, I’m not a girl. Light, I never realised Chief Bobo was so popular with the women.’
‘Oh.’ She tilted her head. ‘My mistake. In that case, I fear I’ve ruined a very special surprise for Hou.’
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Yutai chuckled. ‘Yeah, you did. You make a habit of rescuing strangers?’
‘Only the ones that look lost,’ she said. ‘And you do stick out a bit. The staring. The not dancing. The general look of someone wondering whether if they’ve made a terrible mistake coming here.’
Yutai looked at her properly. Even with the skin disguising things, there was something easy in the way she held herself. She was easy to talk to. ‘Well, I appreciate your help. Thanks.’
‘So, apart from that hiccup, how’s your first Grey Hat party, Bobo?’
‘Is it really that obvious? Do people not ever just stop and admire the virtual architecture for a minute?’
She gave a small laugh. ‘Regulars are used to it. The novelty wears off fast.’
‘And how many people here are regulars? I swear there’s more people here than the seats I saw.’ Yutai’s gaze drifted across the sea of virtual avatars.
‘Don’t let the numbers here fool you! This virtual world is open to the rest of the server, including those who couldn’t make it tonight. Anyone from the online Buhexei server with an SR headset and a pill can join from their bed.’
Yutai looked her over. ‘And what exactly are you meant to be?’
‘A Yuan Shock Trooper. Been meaning to try this skin for ages. Figured since this is my last party, I may as well finally wear it.’
Yutai raised an eyebrow. ‘Last? What, getting too old for clubbing?’
‘Never. I’d spend my entire life here if I could. It’s too fun. Met some amazing people I’d have never crossed paths with otherwise.’ The warmth in her voice faded a little. ‘But I was only in Pat Sin for uni. I’m a medical student, but I’ve dropped out. I need to head home for a funeral.’
‘Where’s home?’
‘Somewhere very far from here. Which sucks, because Pat Sin’s incredible. North Kowloon is incredible. Nothing like home.’
‘You don’t have to sell me on that,’ Yutai said. ‘And Pat Sin Uni’s one of the best. You must be seriously talented to have been accepted there. Why not come back after the funeral? Surely you can just get a study exemption?’
She let out a slow breath. A shadow passed through her voice. ‘I can’t afford the tuition fees anymore. Dada was paying for it with a loan he took out. He was counting on paying it off with this new job that would’ve started soon. But then… Things happened. He was going to lose the job. My brother did everything he could so Da could keep it… But it didn’t end well for him, either.’
She went quiet and turned slightly away.
Yutai lowered his head a fraction, trying to catch her face through the visor. ‘What happened to your brother? What did he do?’
‘I’ll give you a hint,’ she said. ‘The funeral is my brothers. He joined Lord Mingchi’s civilian militia to try and protect him. Because if Mingchi died, all the people Mingchi was hiring to rebuild Pik would be out of work. That included poor Dada.’
Yutai’s throat tightened. ‘You’re from Pik?’ His voice cracked.
‘Yeah.’ She gave a humourless little laugh. ‘I don’t tell people unless I have to. Best case, they start treating you like a charity project. Worst case, they hear East Kowloon and decide you must be some illiterate peasant.’
He clenched his fists by his side.
‘Thought once I graduated, I’d get them out., she said as she composed herself. ‘Bring them up here, where everything’s better. But my brother and his stupid friends ran off to play hero. That ended about as well as you’d expect. Now I’m going back to look after Ma and Da.’
A wave of nausea rose within Yutai.
She kept going, quieter now. ‘No point staying here and burning through what’s left of the loan money. I was starting to think of Pat Sin as home, too.’ A pause. ‘But it’s fine. Not the first thing the Kingmakers have taken from me. We survive.’
Did I kill her brother?
‘Can I know your name?’ Yutai asked quietly.
She reached into a pocket and tapped something out of view. A second later, crisp white characters appeared above her head.
Azarr01.
‘That looks like a username,’ Yutai tried pulling a light smile. ‘I want your real name.’
She gave a short laugh. ‘You’re mad if you think I’m giving my real name to some random off the Network.’
‘What if I find you in the real club and stop being a random?’
She tilted her head. ‘And why would you want to do that?’
‘Because you helped me with that creep. Feels like I owe you one.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘And… I know people in North Kowloon. Powerful people. I could try talking to them. See if there’s a way to get your family moved up here, closer to your uni. Give you a way back to studying.’
Before she could answer, the whole square darkened by a shade. A murmur passed through the dancers as everyone looked up.
A massive hologram drifted above them, big enough to nearly fill the open air over Ho Man Ting. A demon in ornate samurai armour shimmered from static and light, towering over the square with glowing eyes and layered plates of black and crimson. Beneath it, a timer flashed and ticked down.
00:20
The crowd erupted in cheers, counting down with it.
‘Session’s about to be over,’ Azarr01 said as she looked up.
‘Then you need to tell me your name quickly,’ Yutai said, resting a hand on her shoulder.
00:16
00:15
Around them, avatars were already beginning to flicker out as the pullback started.
Azarr01 stepped half a pace closer. ‘If you want my real name, find me on the live floor.’
‘How can I do that? I don’t even know what you look like!’
00:10
00:09
‘I’ve got purple in my hair,’ she said. ‘A lot of it. You’ll know it when you see it.’
00:08
00:07
‘That’s like half the girls here!’
‘Then you’ve got half the girls here to rule out,’ she replied. ‘But that’s if you really want to return the favour.’ A teasing pause. ‘Though I wouldn’t hold my breath.’
The demon’s eyes flared brighter overhead. The whole square shouted even louder in unison with the countdown.
‘See you out there, Chief Bobo.’
00:04
00:03
00:02
00:01
00:00
Everything went black.
Yutai jolted back into his body.
The headset was lifting off his face by its self. Real sound crashed into him at once. Music. Actual music, blasting so loud it rattled his ribs. The cold purple room was gone. Chorra’s Flux was coming alive.
Around him, people were peeling themselves out of recliners, stumbling more than standing, limbs loose and eyes dazed from the pill and the session. Rows were emptying fast as people ran towards the adjacent dance floor, drawn by the bass and flashing lights.
Yutai blinked hard, still half in one world and half in the other. He looked to his left and right. Pang and his three friends were already gone.
Yutai was still blinking the headset haze out of his eyes when he caught a flash of purple hair vanishing through the doors into the live floor. Just a streak in the dark between the bodies. But it was enough.
Azarr01.
He pushed himself up from the recliner too fast.
At once, the world came apart around him.
The floor and walls seemed to breathe, dipping and rising in slow, unnatural waves. Green and purple fractals shimmered across every surface. Anything that moved dragged a second version of itself behind it. People’s edges softened, then sharpened, their outlines glowed in neon. Music no longer just hit his ears, it travelled through his chest and down his arms. Every muscle felt loose, especially his jaw, which would not quite clench no matter how hard he tried to bite down. Each bass note bloomed inside his head, as if sound itself was leaving colour in its wake. The psychedelic experience had started.
Light, he thought. Haozhe wasn’t joking. I am absolutely shit-faced.
Yutai tried to follow the people staggering out of the room. They clung to him, and he clung back where he had to, dragging himself along with the tide of bodies spilling towards the live floor.
The music here was wild. Raw. Totally different from the virtual sounds of the SR session.
“Dang nei dei mou jan feature Fengi, ngo bei nei namba wan,
Nei dei pok gaai match ma dou, sin break jat mil on NiGuan,
Ni go wou, nei lok ngo seung,
Gin dou go Yun jai, ngo zau nip hou ngo jeung,
Pull up zing zing dou O Bloc,
Mou mat san yi hai gau dok,
Po tom dou ding saai, mong go jai dou hok,
Faai di waak go fan, ping keoi jing hai seok,
Ngo ba dou chaap jap keoi geng, hung, min, daan lok.”
[When you nobodies feature Fengi, I hand you number ones,
You fucks can’t match, first break a mill on NiGuan,
It’s a zero-sum game, you down and I’m up,
See that Yuan boy, then I squeeze on my gun,
Pull up sharp to the Oh Bloc,
Nothin’ new on the old block,
Paramedics frozen, starin’ at the boy in shock,
Better draw up that chalk, lay him flat on the rock,
Backed my blade in his neck, chest, face, and cock.]
He recognised the infamous rapper’s voice. DaoTaoFengi, a known criminal artist affiliated with the Roaring Fifth Triads, a criminal organisation spanning Kowloon. Their members called themselves the 5th Bandits.
In the fringes of the dance floor, through shifting bodies, he saw her again. A flash of purple hair.
He shoved his way after it, the Fengi track fuelling his pursuit.
[I’m on some new shit, my boys all locked up,
Let your girl out, she might get knocked up,
On that demon shit, someone lock me up,
Every cycle, run a dama cycle,
Pure kekkeyin, no survival,
I’m evil, no moral revival.]
The floor seemed to dip beneath him as he stepped onto the main dance floor. People jumped, turned, knocked into one another, hands in the air, drinks sloshing over clothes and onto the ground. A dark-purple holographic DJ was perched on his altar of street sound and hammered the beat with a relentless drum loop.
There, near the centre-left. Purple hair again.
‘Hey, you! Come back!’ Yutai called out, pushing his way through. He slipped between shoulders, muttering apologies that came out as grunts.
The lights overhead flashed hard enough to sting, burning phantom shapes into his vision every time he blinked.
Someone shoved him and knocked him off balance.
A cheer went up around him.
Before Yutai could recover, two sets of hands clapped him on the shoulders from either side and spun him forward. He stumbled into open space and only then realised what was happening.
A circle had formed around him.
No, no, no…
People were backing up, grinning, recording devices raised, arms pumping to the beat. Some were already shouting for him to move, to dance, to do something worth the attention that was pouring over him. He tried to push back into the mass, but people shoved him back to the centre of the small circle.
Yutai stood alone in the middle of it, chest rising hard, lights breaking over him in violent colours. The crowd roared for him to give them a show.
Fengi continued his brutal rapping.
[They don’t bang; they think they do,
Talk gun violence from a private school?
Hear the silence when I pop you fools,
Old schools out, I’m what the new culture pulls,
In the streets of Ji, too much shit I’m Sia’n,
Eyes locked tight like Tai Li killin’,
14K opp see me, better start fleein’.]
The crowd’s noise pressed in from every side, but the beat cut through all of it. A deep, filthy pulse.
He rolled his shoulders once and let his jaw hang loose, breathing through the chemical rush rather than fighting it. The floor still swam beneath him, lights still left ghosts in his vision, but the rhythm had become a rail to hold onto. He fixed on it and gave a small nod to himself.
His head started first, dipping into the beat. Then his shoulders caught it, rolling one after the other. His knees loosened. His sneakers traced little half-circles over the wet floor, testing grip, testing tempo, trying to catch the beat as if it were a wave.
He snapped into motion.
One foot crossed sharply over the other, then unwound. His torso twisted, shoulders jerking with the 808s. The psychedelic haze made everything feel enormous.
Yutai dropped low, one palm skimming the floor, then kicked a leg up in the air. Every flash of light dragged glowing streaks through the air around him. The circle erupted around him. He hopped on a single-handed handstand, then dropped onto his back, and kipped back up.
Then the song hit a thicker, filthier pocket in the instrumental, and Yutai gave himself over completely.
[I’m trynna get to the deep end, uh
I go big, bitches start pleasin’, uh
I wanna go to the Pik ends, famine season,
Give me a Kingmaker reason!
I’ve been pickin’ up the pieces, uh
Gaochi’s dead, Mingchi’s on some treason, uh—]
He dropped onto both hands and kicked his legs wide. His body whipped around in a full windmill, legs slicing the air in a circle, puffer jacket rippling around. The floor spun beneath him, people melting into streaks. The crowd lost its mind.
[Escape the Zhaisheng’s beacon,
Regicide’s ringin’,
Bellies rumble and singin’,
Puyin’s leavin’ whole district’s bleedin’
Piles of bodies lil’ kids be seein’.
The beat paused.
“This is Jeni Laozi, interrupting your normal programming to bring you tragic breaking news from the East; the Pik estate has announced the passing of Ji Mingchi following an unprecedented Royal Regicide—”
The crowd shouted along with the track altogether:
—they killed Mingchi while he still sleepin’!]
He came out of it on one knee, breathless, his tied hair fallen loose, his heart battering against his chest. He looked up at the wild crowd around him. Praising and cheering him.
To the left side of the circle stood Pangfua between his three friends, all four recording on their devices, whooping and shouting over the music. Pang’s hair was dishevelled, his forehead slick with sweat, a thin line of drool trailing from the corner of his mouth.
Then Yutai saw his nose.
A nerve struck.
White flecks clung to Pangfua’s nostrils and upper lip.
Yutai went cold. His heart sank.
That fucking fool took kekkeyin!
At that moment, the circle imploded, the crowd losing its mind and throwing themselves back into the music.
Yutai’s anger hit all at once.
He shoved through the dancers, no longer caring who he clipped or shoulder-checked aside. By the time he reached Pang, his face was hard with fury. He seized his brother by the arm.
‘What the fuck did you take?’
‘W-What—’
Yutai looked straight into Pang’s eyes. His pupils were blown wide, the whites webbed red.
‘You snorted kekkeyin! You fucking idiot!’
‘I didn’t, I swear—’
‘You bloody liar! What the fuck is wrong with you?! I’m taking you home and you’re not leaving the fucking house until you graduate! You dishonest, selfish child!’
Pang’s jaw gaped open as Yutai snatched his wrist tightly and dragged him towards the entrance.
This bloody kid! Taking kekkeyin at underground parties! What a failure I must be as a brother!
They reached the short corridor leading to the main entrance.
The door was shut.
Yutai rammed his shoulder into it. Nothing.
‘What the hell?! Why is the door locked?!’ He striked it with his fist. Pang flinched back.
They must’ve locked the front, Yutai thought quickly. Fine. We’ll leave through the side we came in.
Yutai, still holding Pang’s wrist in an iron grip, hauled him back through the packed floor and into the doorway on the far side. He dragged him down the stairs too fast. Pang stumbled and nearly went down, but Yutai yanked him upright by the arm.
You’d walk properly if you hadn’t filled yourself with shit! he thought.
They reached the bottom and hit the side door.
Locked.
Yutai swore and drove his boot into it once, twice, then again, each kick harder than the last. The frame shook. The wall around it vibrated. But the door stayed shut.
‘Why the fuck are all the doors locked?!’
Suddenly, the music upstairs cut out. In its place came screaming. Desperate shrills and shouts.
Yutai turned sharply. ‘What in the world is going on tonight?!’
He turned back to Pang. ‘Stay here!’ he jabbed a finger inches away from Pang’s face. ‘You move a muscle and I’m gonna make you wish you were an only child!’
He stayed silent as Yutai shot back up the stairs.
At the top, Yutai stopped dead behind the corner wall of the stairwell entrance. He peeked out. Chorra’s Flux was being turned inside out. Thinking it was the psychedelic effects of the SR session, he blinked and focused on the scene unfolding.
Baxian gangsters, law enforcement of District Pat Sin, flooded the room in a wild roundup, forcing partygoers to the ground, some against walls, others flat on the floor with wrists cuffed behind their back. Their armour gleamed under the club lights still strobing: dark, reinforced navy uniforms, smooth chestplates and segmented limbguards. Utility belts right around their waist carrying shock batons, pistols, and Xhiku links.
Their commands overpowered most of the sounds.
‘On your knees!’
‘Hands where I can see them!’
‘Move again and you’re getting dropped!’
And, over and over again:
‘Yang!’
‘Yang-linked gathering!’
‘Flag every Yang body in the room!’
Yang? What Yang?
Yutai thought hard.
Kowlooni Grey Hats. Of course.
The name came back to him. No wonder they sounded familiar. He’d heard of them in the Tower. Over chatter in communications, long ago. Hacker collective, Yang-affiliated. Server swarms, leak drops, digital agitation, they’d done it all.
Light. What did Pang get us into? This was a damned trap from the very start.
Yutai turned at once, but before he could take a step down, a voice barked from behind.
‘Hey! You there! Stop!’
Yutai bolted down the stairs.
Pang was still where he’d left him at the bottom of the corridor, tense and pale, eyes wide from the screaming above.
‘Brother, what’s happening?’
Yutai grabbed his wrist. ‘Move!’
‘But what’s going on?’
He didn’t answer. He dragged Pang up the stairs two at a time, hearing the pursuing gangster thunder down towards them, boots hammering the steps just beyond the turn in the landing.
Then Yutai remembered.
His eyes snapped to the looping projection of the naked woman on the wall. Behind it, half-hidden by the light, was the maintenance door. He ran for it. “Staff Only” was stencilled across the metal.
He kicked it open, the projection flickering as his leg passed through it.
The moment he and Pang threw themselves inside, the Baxian gangster hit the landing on their right, baton in hand. ‘Hold it!’
Yutai slammed the door shut. A broom leaned in the corner against the grey brick wall. He snatched it up and rammed the handle through the door pull just as a fist pounded from the other side.
‘This is the Baxian Guard! Open up! Open this door!’
Yutai didn’t wait to see how long the broom would hold. He grabbed Pangfua and ran deeper into the maintenance passage, the air smelling like bleach and damp concrete. Shelving units blurred past on their left, cables snaking across the black floor. They rushed past humming utility consoles and exposed pipework until the corridor ended in a cluttered dead end.
Crates and supply boxes were stacked against the back wall.
Yutai’s eyes moved fast as he searched for a place to hide.
Then he saw something better: a square grate set high in the top-left corner, half-hidden above the boxes. That ought to take us right outside!
He dragged Pang over and vaulted from box to box, climbing higher towards the ceiling, making sure his brother stayed on his heels. Reaching the highest box in front of the vent, Yutai jammed his fingers through the metal slats and shoved with everything he had.
The grate tore loose.
He hurled it down and pulled himself inside, then reached back and hauled Pang in after him. They scrambled through the narrow shaft on hands and knees, every movement clattering through the metal around them.
They reached a stop. Above them, it continued vertically up.
Pang stared. ‘Brother, I can’t climb that.’
‘Yes, you can,’ Yutai hissed. ‘If you can take fucking kekkeyin, you can do this. Up first. I’ll push from below.’
Pang hesitated for a moment and then stumbled over Yutai to get in front. He turned awkwardly and braced his back and feet against the vent walls. Yutai pushed him up a bit and climbed in beneath him and shoved upwards, using his own shoulders, legs, and back to drive Pang higher while wedging himself against the shaft. The metal groaned and cracked around them as they climbed higher and higher.
Five metres up, Pang finally reached the point where the shaft levelled out again and pulled himself up. Yutai followed a second later and hauled himself up beside him and immediately moved to the front. Ahead, another square grate blocked the way. Yutai peered through it and saw it didn’t lead inside. Just another dark room. He leaned back flat and kicked it.
Once.
Twice.
On the third strike, it popped loose. He pushed it and climbed out.
They pulled themselves up into a maintenance shaft where a single ladder climbed higher into the dark.
Without a word, they both started up. Dim blue service lights glowed along the walls as they climbed, rung after rung, until they reached a small landing at the top with a door set into the wall. Yutai pressed his ear against it. From the other side came the muffled noise of the roundup below.
He eased the door open. They were on a maintenance catwalk, high above the dance floor.
The whole club lay beneath them in miniature. Baxian gangsters were still moving through the room, nearly finished with the arrests. Some patrons were sobbing. Others looked too drugged to understand what was happening to them.
Pang gulped beside him. ‘Light…’
Yutai put a finger to his lips.
They moved out onto the catwalk, crouched low, one hand always on the rail. It trembled faintly under their weight. Just above their heads were ducts, cable trays, and light fixtures sprawled across the ceiling. The lights were still throwing bright flashes across the floor below.
They snuck along the metal walkway until it met the outer wall. There, between two crates, a narrow window stood cracked open.
Yutai eased it wider and helped Pang climbed through first. He went in after and the cold air of the outside hit his face.
They were on a terrace landing barely wider than a balcony. Yutai turned and closed the window softly shut behind them.
He crept to the lip of the terrace and looked down into a back alley below. Baxian gangsters were milling through it, waiting. The nearby terraces were crawling with them too.
‘They’ve surrounded the place,’ Yutai murmured, half to himself. ‘We’re going to have to be careful.’
‘Brother,’ Pang called out quietly.
Yutai kept his eyes on the alley below.
‘Lokyan. Haozhe. Faijun.’ Pang’s voice tightened. ‘They’re still in there.’
Yutai turned and fixed him with a hard stare. ‘And so are hundreds of other people. Don’t say another word. We’re getting on the King rail and going straight home.’
‘They came because of me!’
‘I don’t give a shit.’
Yutai seized Pang by the wrist and kept scanning the surrounding terraces, his other hand already reaching inside his jacket for the RS2 pistol.
‘We’re done here. Get ready to roof-hop.’
Pang’s eyes widened at the sight of the gun coming out of his brother’s jacket.
‘They’ll give me up,’ he said quickly. ‘My friends know my name. They know where I live. No one else in there does! You need to get them out.’
That stopped Yutai.
He looked at Pang properly then. Tears were running down his face quietly.
Yutai exhaled through his nose. ‘You stay here,’ he said at last.
Pang nodded hard.
Yutai shrugged off his thick puffer jacket, leaving only the plain black T-shirt stretched across his body. Then he pulled that off too, leaving his grey track trousers and bare skin and muscles above it. He wrapped the black shirt around his face, covering the lower half, and then folded the shirt up over his hair and stretched it around the forehead tight, leaving only a narrow slit for his eyes. Then he held the gun out.
‘I’m giving you this. If anyone spots you, take cover and shoot in their direction and call for me through the window. Just don’t get yourself arrested, no matter what.’
Pang took it with a trembling hand.
Without another word, Yutai turned back towards the maintenance window and ducked through it, landing quietly on the catwalk.
The chaos below was still unfolding.
Yutai crouched low and moved along the rail, keeping to the shadows cast by the ducts and cable trays overhead. From up here, faces were hard to make out. Clothes were easier. He scanned the floor for them instead, trying to pick out Lokyan’s expensive fit, Haozhe’s white beanie, Faijun’s dark, plain clothes.
He hoped they weren’t arrested yet.
Then he saw it, near the middle of the arrested patrons. A shimmer of holographic blue. Lokyan.
Damn it.
He was already on his knees on the dancefloor, hair hanging loose, his expensive jacket twisted half off one shoulder. His hands were already locked behind his back and he was growling at the gangsters. Beside him, Haozhe was in the same position, jaw clenched, a Baxian gangster forcing his head down with a palm between the shoulder blades.
I can’t. It’s too late for them.
Yutai kept moving, searching for Faijun. He edged further along the catwalk, then down a branching path that ran perpendicular across the room. He checked the lounge booths, the bar’s edge, the stairwell mouth, the line of detainees being shoved towards the rear corridor. Nowhere. Yutai clenched his jaw. Either Faijun had already been taken somewhere else, or he’d somehow slipped through before the raid.
He started to turn back towards the window.
Then something moved in the side corridor near the bathrooms, away from the dance floor, half-screened by a partition wall and pulsing magenta light.
A lone Baxian gangster had someone by the arm, trying to force them into Xhiku links. They weren’t cuffed yet. Just being manhandled, hard.
Yutai leaned over the rail.
He saw the flash of purple hair.
Azarr. It has to be!
Her arm was twisted behind her back hard enough to wrench her shoulder. She was jerking against the hold, shouting something Yutai couldn’t hear over the noise pouring out of the main room.
He froze for one hard second, weighing his options.
Then he put one foot on the rail and dropped.
He landed catlike on the top edge of the partition wall just above them, hands and feet gripping for balance. The Baxian gangster barely had time to look up.
Yutai dropped behind him, looped an arm round his neck, blocked his leg, and heaved him over his shoulder. The man flipped over Yutai and slammed onto the floor.
Azarr stared up at him, wide-eyed, confused and scared. In the magenta lights of the corridor, her face looked small and very real, pale skin, dark lipstick, mascara streaked by tears. She had a small stature, just like an East Kowlooni. Her fit was all sharp lines and nightclub gloss, a black crop top under a short, open reflective jacket, a pleated dark skirt layered over sheer tights, and heavy platform shoes that made her look taller than she was.
‘It’s Bobo.’ Yutai said quickly. ‘Hold onto me!’
Yutai turned and backed into her. She threw her arms round his shoulders. He hauled her up onto his back in one movement, her legs locking tight around his hips. Then two Baxian gangsters rounded the corner. They drew tasers at once.
‘Freeze!’
Yutai sprang from the floor to the wall, then to the opposite wall, climbing the narrow corridor in bounding steps with Azarr clinging to him. Her grip was tight round his neck, her face pressed beside his masked face. Another leap took him to the top of the partition wall. He turned around on the thin edge.
On the other side of the wall lay the main dancefloor, where rows of patrons knelt under Baxian guard. Every head below seemed to tilt up at once, gangsters and detainees alike, all staring as Yutai appeared high above them with a girl on his back. Then, the gangsters all got out their taser guns.
Electric bolts snapped through the air beside him.
Yutai launched himself out over the dance floor, clearing the heads below. He hit the far wall above the DJ podium and crawled up the wall, grabbing at light braces, pulling cords, scaling metal struts, anything that would hold his weight. Bolts cracked past on either side, one striking close enough to light the wall beside his hand, but Yutai kept climbing, zigzagging up and across, swinging left, then hopping right, higher and higher.
He caught the catwalk railing with both hands, swung Azarr’s weight with him, and hauled both himself and her over at once.
Then he ran straight for the window. Metal thumping below his shoes, bolts hitting the ceiling and the underside of the catwalk.
He reached it, let Azarr slide down off his back, and yanked it open. Pang was already rushing towards it from the terrace side. Together they shoved Azarr through first. Yutai went to climb after her.
Halfway through, a taser bolt hit his calf.
His leg seized so hard it nearly folded under him, but he bit the pain down, dragged himself through the frame, and collapsed onto the terrace on one knee.
‘Who’s this?’ Pang shouted. ‘Why the hell did you bring her? Where are my friends?’
‘They’re gone,’ Yutai snapped, forcing himself upright. ‘Arrested. We have to move. Now.’
‘I’m not going anywhere till you save them too!’
Yutai turned and slapped him hard across the face.
Pang’s head snapped sideways. He staggered, hand flying to the cheek already flushing red.
‘Not another word,’ Yutai said, voice low and shaking with rage. ‘You will do exactly as I say and follow me.’
