Chou watches the car leave, then murmurs softly, "Interesting. It appears the Lau Syndicate is starting to fray already. I wonder if Tony will attempt to stiff us. Hopefully there is another relative who can recover the syndicate." She turns and studies the desolate temple, then smiles at Qiang-Wei, "Shall we?" She sounds almost pleased.
Long gives a slight shrug. "If it does, there'll be a few weeks of chaos, we'll have some extra work, then it will settle down. It's just a shame that Sony Lau is gone. I'll have to pay my respects at some point." If we live through this... He nods and slaps the lever on the MP5K, sliding a round into the chamber. "Let's," he replies simply.
Chou nods mutely, although it's not clear to what she's agreeing, and starts slipping silently towards the temple through the overgrown underbrush. The temple complex is partly collapsed, dead leaves blowing from gaping, ragged openings in the rotting buildings. A dull red glow comes from the mouth of the largest building, and muffled low noises like throat chanting.
Long tries to keep as silent as Chou is as they approach the temple, not really sure how good a job he's doing. Most of the work he gets contracted for involves walking up to a dead man and reminding the gentleman in question of his condition. With or without a lot of shouting, gunfire, and collateral damage, though professional pride makes him want to limit that, of course. He's never really done this sneaking-around-in-the-underbrush thing, and part of him wishes he were better at it.
Chou considers, then decides it's better to clean out the guards first. She starts methodically working her way around the building; she'll deal with any discovered guards swiftly and summarily. Long nods in agreement with Chou, keeping his eyes out for any guards in the area.
Chou raises an eyebrow a short while later. The outlying buildings are dark and empty, populated only by spiders and dead leaves. Amazingly overconfident of the Dragon Son. She makes visual connection with Qiang-Wei, nodding towards the red-glowing building as their next target. Long frowns and murmurs, "This is odd. Any gang boss worth his ledger would have torpedoes all over the place..." He glances to the red glow and sighs. "I'm sure my grandmother would have said something about going into glowing holes in walls... but that looks like our best bet."
Chou grins over her shoulder at her partner, her eyes almost glowing in the dimness, then slides up next to one side of the hole for a look. Long takes the other side of the hole, glancing in with his thumb on the safety to his weapon.
The hole in the wall is actually the main temple entrance, the main compound being the only somewhat-maintained structure on the complex. Inside, the temple is bare of anything, including debris; the only thing in the chamber is the great Buddha statue. The glow comes from a massive blaze in Gautama's upturned palm. The Enlightened One's eternal smile seems ghoulish in the reddish-gold glow.
Chou frowns thoughtfully. Where's the chanting coming from? She studies the room carefully, trying to detect any security at all. The low, modulated sound of throat chanting drifts out, echoing in the empty room and on the courtyard's bare flagstones. Chou realizes, after some study of the room, that there are no other exits aside from the one they're standing by. She doesn't see anyone there but the Buddha... and yet the chanting echoes powerfully in the room. Weirdly, the chanting echoes off the walls and floor so it sounds like it's coming from everywhere at once.
Long grimaces, not liking the look of that Buddha. Clearly, some of the Ascended Ones are having astral fits and conniptions over this. He tries to see the source of the chanting, and wonders why there aren't any guards around. He even looks up, onto the roofs and the rafters of the main entrance room. He's really not liking this. He can't see any exit other than the hole Chou and he are standing at -- and where's the damn chanting coming from? He grimaces and gestures into the room, indicating he'll take the side of the room that he's on. Chou shakes her head -- he's got the distance weapons. She'll go in.
Long pauses, then nods and braces the MP5K against the side of the hole. Chou bounces lightly into the room and up onto an overhead rafter, watching intently for any reaction. Something shoots out of the blaze and embeds itself in the roof a few feet in front of Chou. It's a hook sword.
Chou rolls smoothly and automatically around the rafter to another position so she can see what was thrown. She considers it thoughtfully... then looks down into the fire equally thoughtfully. Could that be the entrance? Quite the trial by fire, if so... she thinks it'd be easier to put it out first.
Long gives a bit of a start at the sudden appearance of the hook sword. "Found him," he deadpans quietly.
The Dragon Son's voice echoes, even over the reverberating chanting that fills the room. "I knew you'd come. Your kind is pathetically bound up in concepts like 'honor' and 'duty'. So... how did you find me, mm? Stopped and asked for directions?"
Chou ignores the voice, instead closely examining the fire in the Buddha's palm. Is there an entrance there, or what? Long tries to come up with a witty response to that, and fails. He looks all around for the source of the voice, ready to move in an instant. "More or less," he says warily. He flicks the safety off.
Chou looks over at Long and shakes her head once sharply, putting a finger to her lips. No advertising their locations! Long grimaces as he realizes what he did, and nods once to Chou, moving to change his position slightly, looking for anything in the room that might be moving.
The voice laughs, a deep reverberation. "I suppose it doesn't matter at this stage." The blaze begins to die down, to the point where it's possible to look directly at the flame and not be dazzled. It fades to a nimbus of bright crimson rather than the roaring golden jet it was before. In its center, in the palm of the Buddha, sits the Dragon Son. He smiles, flicking back his hair, and stands. "Shall we finish this now?"
Chou sits back a bit on her heels, where she's crouched on the rafter above, and considers a moment. Fire doesn't harm him at all. Interesting. He's quite full of himself, too, which is a good thing -- the overly indulged often underestimate opponents. He's already started doing so, assuming they're there for honor and duty. She's not -- she's there for the job. She nods gravely, where she crouches. "I think so, yes."
Long just wishes he'd brought a grenade. He glances over to Chou, thinking over the game plan. Every second the Dragon's Son isn't flying through the air is another second they have on him... or something like that. Chou glances curiously at Long, wondering what's holding him back. Bullets may not stop the Dragon's bastard, but they certainly seemed to hurt and inconvenience him a lot. Long catches Chou's glance, and shakes his head. "Oh, why the hell am I..." He ends his sentence with a burst of automatic fire at the Dragon's Son. Chou grins a bit, her eyes gleaming and her hands resting lightly across her legs, up where she crouches on the rafter above.
Tsung smiles, rising slowly. Bullets rake across his frame as he does, the slugs becoming glittering miniature comets as they pass through his blazing corona. Blood blossoms against the fabric of his tunic. He slips something from his belt, unfolding it and holding it along the inside of his arm. It's a fan, and a very large one, beautifully screened with a curling, golden dragon, and apparently unscathed by the flame despite its seeming paper construction. The dragon seems alive in the light of the fire. "Do you like it? I thought you might appreciate the touch." He grins ferally, "No? Well... perhaps you'll appreciate this!" He leaps from the Buddha, and the chanting suddenly ceases. At the very moment he strikes the ground, the wooden floor begins to shatter, and the sounds of brittle wood exploding begin to come from all the abandoned precincts of the complex. Black-suited figures begin to claw their way up into the fray. Tsung smiles. "There, now all the guests are here-- let's start the party!"
Chou tilts her head thoughtfully... nice fan. Lots of targets for her partner. She'll have to stay in here as long as she can, keeping the Dragon busy, so the dead things are all collected together (relatively speaking) for Long to mow down.
Tsung takes off from the ground with a great leap, popping up alongside Chou on her perch. "Come down and join the party, won't you?" His blazing corona follows him somewhat, though much of it remains on the palm of the Buddha. He spirals in the air as he rises, lashing out with one arm to swing the fan with a great golden flare.
Chou looks up and smiles, knowing she's a very indistinct figure in the dancing shadows Tsung casts. Softly she murmurs, "Soon, little boy. Soon."
The Dragon lands again and smiles, flicking his hair back again. "I am over one-hundred and fifty years old. You, beautiful one, are perhaps blinded by my light."
Chou laughs softly, "I think it is you that can no longer see clearly."
Tsung says, "We shall see. It's that very argument we intend to settle right now, no?"
Chou pauses, considering, then grins, teasing him, "Well... all right, I'll grant you that you got the 'beautiful one' part right."
Long grins faintly as Tsung completely misses Chou. "Let's see what we can do about unwanted guests before more of them arrive." Up comes the MP5K on the closest batch of the undead creatures, and he lets the weapon spit Western lead at the things. A moment later he blinks in dismay as all of his shots go wide. That's... that's impossible! I should be able to hit them at this range...! He re-shoulders the weapon, getting ready to evade the creatures' incoming attacks.
Chou taps her wooden Tiger Claws lightly on the rafter -- a soft *tunk-tunk* that's lost in the sounds of shattering, brittle floor wood. So kind of the Dragon to provide us with so much wood and weaponry, she thinks amusedly... then swings lightly around the rafter in a dark spiral, echoed by a smaller scarlet swirl of hair. She launches past Tsung towards the top of the Buddha, raking at his face with the Tiger Claws as she passes.
Tsung recoils, shouting as the claws bite his face. It is not the same shout of irritation that accompanied his being shot; this is a roar, an inhuman snarl that comes from distinctly inhuman vocal cords. He staggers back, panting, his wounds dripping something that isn't quite blood. "So... hrrrh... we did ask for directions after all..."
Chou says gently, "'Fraid so. We learn from our mistakes."
Tsung regains his composure, coiling himself back in a low hook stance, and then launches himself at his assailant. "We shall see how long you live to benefit by it." His blazing fan comes within a few inches of the assassin, but to no avail. He seems a bit nonplussed. "Hrmn. Sometimes you have to lead them a little..."
Chou's soft, throaty laughter echoes around the Buddha. "Sometimes you have to realize you're both outmatched -- and outclassed!"
Long tries again with the damn undead creatures. This time you're definitely eating lead! he thinks, spraying another series of slightly more carefully aimed rounds at the things. His shots rip into the first five undead that are scurrying in, blowing them apart in rather unmentionable blobs of ichor. He grimaces -- pity a challenging one-liner won't make the other five coming in retreat. The remaining undead, having finally hit the ground and drawn their weapons, return fire on their attacker.
Chou has no desire to fight on a shattered and treacherous wooden floor. She leaps lightly up, arcing over the Buddha's head to bounce off of Tsung with both feet, using that momentum to propel herself lithely back up into the rafters. As she hits Tsung she doesn't forget to rake with both wooden-clawed hands.
The remaining undead open fire as their leader staggers. None of the zombies manage to scathe the athletic Mr. Long, with the exception of one creature which wanders in front of one of its compatriot's weapon as it's going off.
Tsung skips across the shattered floor, taking off from the ground with ease, flipping himself over as he travels through the air in an aerial bicycle kick that trails a flaming comet-tail and smashes apart a rafter mere nanoseconds after Chou leaves it. Chou lands lightly on a nearby rafter, then raises an eyebrow. "No more partying? Ah well... down to serious work now, I suppose."
Tsung smiles as he lands lightly, "The party is just getting started, now. Kill them, jiangshi!" Footsteps begin to rattle in the courtyard, behind Long.
Chou murmurs with soft amusement, "You are a poor loser, little boy."
Tsung tsks, "And you are utterly transparent, whelp."
Chou says, "But I should not be surprised... you are not a gracious winner either."
Tsung says something in return, but it's drowned out by the clatter of automatic fire. Long blinks at the sound, and grimaces, turning and bringing his gun to bear. "Oh, what now?" he mutters, opening fire at the fire closest zombies to clear them out of the way before dealing with the newest threat.
Long blinks at the sudden plethora of automatic weapons arrayed in front of him, in the courtyard. He dodges as best as he can, the words of his mentor coming back to him: Dodge the aim, idiot! Don't try to dodge bullets! He does so as best as he can, grimacing as it ruins his chance to pass the muzzle of the gun across them a second time.
Chou watches her companion for a split second, then nods once to herself -- he's doing fine. She returns her focus to the now-pouty-sounding Tsung, smiling faintly. Amazing what adversity brings out in some people... or things, she supposes. Tsung manages to destroy yet another rafter, still to no avail. Chou bounces lightly onto the Buddha's shoulder this time, and glances at Tsung thoughtfully. Is he slowing down some, or is he finally realizing his bombast is her ally?
The accuracy of the monsters does not seem to have improved, nor their coordination, as yet another manages to get destroyed by its compatriots in their zeal to attack and their ignorance of the destroyed floor. Long dodges the closer of the rounds that sing towards him, and snaps out, "Where did you learn how to fire a -- oh, wait -- never mind, you're dead. Again." He opens fire. His shots manage to shred the remaining five zombies in the first group, and he glances upward to see how Chou is dealing with Tsung before the next bunch of undead arrive.
Chou is at that moment launching herself out from the Buddha again, but one foot scrabbles slightly, and she doesn't have a good takeoff. She simply bounces past Tsung and back into the rafters.
The remaining squad of zombies fails to hit anything that wasn't stationary and inanimate already. Long turns his attention to the new batch of zombies, shaking his head. And the old man said I wouldn't be bored... I'd rather be helping Chou! But at least I'm keeping these things off her back while she deals with Tsung...! He sprays a burst across five of the zombies. The targeted zombies fall as they enter the courtyard, their remaining brethren still advancing.
Tsung ducks and rolls as Chou flies by. This time he opts to avoid the rafters, which have thus far boondoggled any attempts of his to actually do damage. "Now it's time to end this. Blazing fan! En Sen Sho!" This time he goes through the rafters, leaping straight up and twisting in the air as he uses the fan to smash the rafters aside, rising in a column of light and heat.
A second later Tsung lands, kneeling. The attack apparently took quite a bit out of him... he doesn't move for a moment, panting heavily. His breath causes the black ichor that runs down his face from the claw wounds to spray in a most unbecoming fashion as it crosses his lips.
Chou grits her teeth at the painful surge of flame scoring across her, but doesn't let her concentration falter. She can't afford to fall off the rafter she's sprung to, and at least she's keeping Tsung busy. She braces for his expected bragging, then blinks when it doesn't occur. Now seems like an exceptionally good time to attack. She tries an experimental lash-out with her claws, but can't quite reach Tsung. Best to wait before returning the favor. Trying again... Chou dives off the rafter in her effort to returning the horribly damaging blow -- but misses entirely. Unfortunately, that's it for her. She hasn't the Chi to try that again. Tsung just stands up, arms open, as the blow falls directly in front of him, sending shards of wood flying. He takes a step back, panting. His nimbus of flame seems to have dissipated quite a bit.
Long glances back seeing the devastating hit Tsung pulled on his partner, then glances to the gang of zombies making their way into the temple. He growls softly and drops the MP5K, reaching to his back and pulling out the paired Sigmas Retribution and Honor. This wasn't about honor, he thinks. This wasn't about duty. Before, this was just about properly completing a job we were hired to do. But you're making it into a matter of honor, hundan!
Tsung rises and takes a swing at Chou, but seems winded and doesn't put a great deal of effort into it. "Yes! Now, this is what I wanted... no more meaningless chatter, just a pure..." he pants, grinning, "...contest."
Chou sighs quietly -- so much for any kind off swift resolution to this, she thinks resignedly. She'll just have to keep hammering as long as she can, and hope her partner can finish the Dragon child off if he outlasts her. She doesn't even bother responding to his jibe -- if he really wanted that, he wouldn't have wasted all that time bragging. She just attacks, slashing up in an evisceration attempt. She's struggling with incredible amounts of pain from that last attack, though... and her swing goes wild.
Long considers for a moment, then his guns come up to try to dispatch more of the zombies. Just a bit longer... there can't be much more... The remaining zombies open fire, two of them straying into the path of fire as they all attempt to press into the courtyard.
Chou tries to focus, using her inertia to bring her Tiger Claws around for another slashing blow. Again, she misses. Long goes again for the zombies. If I can just clear out five of them, I'll feel better about having these walking disaster areas carrying automatic weapons behind me...!
The Dragon pulls himself up to his full height again, his fire seeming to kindle a bit more, and throws himself into the air one more time. His flight is less sure, and his trajectory slightly wobbly. But this time he seems to be headed toward the door -- more specifically, toward Long.
Long's shots blow apart five more of the zombies. Three left! Oh, God, don't let there be more of them, they can't be endless...! Chou shouts, "Long! Behind you!"
Tsung lands unsteadily but makes the most of it, using his momentum to carry him forward into a vicious long-punch style strike that whizzes past Long's head. He sighs heavily. "It just isn't my evening," he says to the assassin in a conversational, if somewhat tiredly resigned tone.
Long blinks and glances back behind him -- and sees the Dragon coming at him full-bore. Holy-! He fires both guns forward out the door blindly, not aiming at anything but letting the recoil from the shots push him back and down enough to let the Dragon's strike miss -- barely. There's not a blessed thing he can say in response to the Dragon Son's comment; for once his list of possible one-liners comes up utterly empty. The zombies continue to fire blindly, to no avail.
Chou tiredly decides to trot over along a rafter rather than leaping... she does so and throws in a slashing strike at the end. Almost to her surprise -- she connects! She looks a bit startled as the Tiger Claws actually bite in. The Dragon falls forward, rolling to bring his arms up to block, suffering another rake to his forearms. He grits his teeth, then sighs again. "Nngh. I haven't actually been tired in decades. It'd be refreshing if it weren't miserable."
Chou mutters under her breath, "Tell me about it..." Long lets out a breath as the looming figure of the Dragon over him evaporates with Chou's attack, silently blessing her, and he lifts up his head enough to fire off a couple of rounds for each of the remaining zombies.
The last of the zombies that are in immediate view are dispatched by Long's paired guns. That leaves just one matter left... Long is not a religious man. His line of work sort of precludes that; the Mafia families that go to cathedral every Sunday utterly baffle him. But right now he says a prayer to any gods or bodhisattvas that might be listening -- that Tsung might be erased... and not merely because they're due a large sum of cash, but because it's the right thing to happen.
The last of the undead fall. The Dragon groans under his breath. "Useless." He kicks to his feet, "Utterly useless. And with my fire going out, my connection to this place is severed... bother." He turns and swings his heel around at Long once more. In his weakened state, though, Tsung's attack falls wide.
Long staggers a little himself, trying to bring his guns up in a block that doesn't connect. As he regains his balance, he thinks, None of us can take much more of this! But I'll be damned if I'll just let this go... it ends, Tsung!
Tsung can't manage a consistent offense; apparently whatever he referred to as the severing of his connection to the place is draining his vigor. He staggers as he unbalances himself. Chou slashes again across Tsung's back, not wishing to let him escape, even if his connection to here is severed. Much to her frustration, she again misses.
Long scrambles out of the way, starting to drag the crossbow out. The bullets earlier seemed to have absolutely no effect on the thing. He wonders if they ever would have. Tsung sees the crossbow coming out and realizes the odds may be about to take a serious turn for the worse. He lunges at Long, hoping to intercept him. The attack manages, barely, to strike home. The blow itself is glancing; a quick, sharp attack that bounces more or less off of Long's sternum, avoiding the more lethal solar plexus area -- but there is at least one side-effect. Long's clothes are on fire.
Chou darts around Tsung to start beating out the flames. She snaps out, "Shoot -- this is the only weapon he cares about!"
Long takes the hit, grimacing but trying to make it a rictus grin at the Dragon. "Is that the-" Wait. Something's not right. He smells smoke, and he feels very warm. He looks down. "Shit!" He starts slapping out the fire quickly, but at Chou's shout he blinks and just reacts to her command, bringing up the crossbow level with Tsung and firing the unfamiliar weapon. The wooden quarrel sings past Tsung. Oh, crap, more or less sums up Long's thoughts.
Chou sighs in relief as the last of the flames go out, then turns to glare at Tsung. She's not sure what would be best -- try to hit, or try to grapple? Grapple, she decides, to make it sure. She lunges for him. Once again, she misses.
Tsung deflects the grapple attempt and continues to backpedal, stepping back onto the courtyard flags. "I appreciate your attempt at persuading me to stay, but... hunh... hnh... I've already lost enough by this encounter. Your miserable wooden weaponry's severed my tie to this place, woman. I can never come back to Hong Kong! You've cost me an entire criminal empire..." He turns and breaks for the opposite end of the courtyard. He leaps up, kicking off the wall around the complex. "I don't think you deserve my life as well!"
Long fires the crossbow again, but the quarrel streaks well past the Dragon's Son. Chou sags slowly to her knees, panting. All she can manage is a softly gasped, "Heart bleeds for you, monster..."
The Dragon Son leaps up over the wall... but it seems like his already-tenuous grip on the chi is gone. The quarrel is on target to strike his leg... but the leg, and the rest of him, are wavering, fading. There is a flash of lightning far off in the distance, and a sound like rolling thunder, and the momentary silhouette of a great serpent in the sky.
Chou watches in startled silence, unsure as to what just happened. Long sighs softly, lowering the crossbow. "I don't think this quite counts as bringing Tony Lau the head of that thing."
Chou nods glumly. "This cost us way too much... monetarily and reputation." She sighs again, her shoulders slumping. "Shit."
A voice calls from across the courtyard. "Actually... I wouldn't necessarily say that."
Chou realizes she has reserves she didn't know about, as she abruptly comes to her feet and aims at the voice. Long mentally checks the position of his DEagle, calculating how quickly he can draw it, turning to face the new arrival.
The voice suddenly turns sour in a somehow familiar way. "Oh, for Heaven's sake, don't point that at me, child." Old Chen steps down out of the shadows on the far side of the courtyard, carrying a rather large Buddhist rosary. Following behind is a grinning Kid. Chen says, "The boy here thought you'd need a getaway driver... I didn't think it was safe to leave this to you two alone, but I see that I was... for once... wrong about that." He snaps at the Kid, "Not a word out of you, either."
Long blinks, and sheepishly tucks away the DEagle he didn't know he had already drawn. Chou looks a bit surprised, but simply straightens, then politely bows, "Thank you for the courtesy." She glances at her partner thoughtfully. Will Tony Lau believe a former priest, or will he gladly accept not having to pay since no severed head was received? Depends on the current state of the Lau Syndicate's honor, I suppose, she thinks. She looks around thoughtfully, then leans to look into the temple. Tsung left without that beautiful fan -- is it still there?
Long glances to Chou, looking rather uncertain and unsure of what Tony Lau's entire reaction is going to be, let alone what he may or may not pay. He inclines his head to the old man. "Thank you... thank you, sir. We appreciate it."
Chen waves his hand dismissively, "Yeah, yeah..." He looks around, then up at the place where the Dragon Son vanished. "Looks like you did all right. He won't be coming back here... mm, no, not for a long time. If ever. He'll probably flee to the mainland. Sleep it off for a few decades." He makes a spitting noise. "Good fer 'em." The Kid clears his throat. Chen blinks, "Enh? Oh, right, right, right. Tony Lau's just been checked into a private hospital... I guess after his last episode he had a nervous breakdown. His lieutenant's running the show in the, uh... extended interim. A long time, that is." The Kid adds, "That oldster from the highway shootout. I think you know each other."
Chou nods slowly, "Yes... he seemed to remember the old days well." She looks at her partner, feeling a little better, "I think he would honor Sony Lau, and be sure to pay us."
Long blinks. "He must have been even more... distraught... than we'd thought..." He nods quietly to Chou. Though part of me would still feel better if someday I can go to the mainland... and drive an entire tree into the heart of the Dragon's Son. And not one of those wimpy Nihonjin bonsai, either.
Kid adds, "Hey, I thought you might want this thing too. It fell on my head just as Asshole was jumping the wall." He tosses Chou a small wooden bundle -- a folded fan.
Chou grins at the momentarily grim look on her partner's face, guessing at its source -- she'd certainly help! -then blinks, reflexively catching the tossed bundle. She opens it, realizes what it is... and a rather lovely smile slowly spreads across her face, lighting it up. She looks at the Kid, still smiling, and says simply, "Thank you." Then she turns to the former priest and politely bows again, "We are ready to leave when you are, sir." She carefully folds up the glittering fan, cradling it in her arms. It's too beautiful and valuable to let lie forgotten, just because its former owner was evil.
Kid shrugs. To him the En Sen Shou isn't really anything more than a pretty fan. He turns and wanders back out. "I'll get the car." Chen folds his arms, looking around. "Yeah, the old place sure is goin' to hell..." He sighs distantly, then shakes his head. "Hell. Getting maudlin in my old age." He starts to make his way in the direction the Kid departed.
Chou smiles at Qiang-Wei, "Let's go get paid, and a drink, in that order, yes?" and tiredly but happily follows.
Long lets out a breath, tucking his hardware away into the coat. "That sounds like a perfect idea," he says, as he walks with Chou to the cars.
The drive back to Hong Kong is quiet. Except for the Kid's egregious taste in music.
END
(credits roll, with Kid's egregious taste in music playing over them)