CHAPTER 33: BIG TROUBLE IN MEDIUM CHINESE TOWN
The old man knew.
Whispers been filling the air of his shanty town for days, but he would have known without the rumors. He saw it in the way the triad members had been carrying themselves. Their usual bravado had given way to a quiet nervousness, punctuated occasionally with violent overcompensations.
He saw it in the eyes of the townspeople. Their heads held a little higher, their smiles a little less pathetic. After so much heartbreak, they still held onto hope for a deliverer.
He saw it in the way the young women’s panties were constantly wet.
The Platinum Warrior was coming.
It had happened a month ago, three towns away. One man had infiltrated a triad stronghold, and using only his powerful fists, brought utter devastation upon them. The survivors were so frightened, they gave up their life of crime on the spot. And then he vanished, just as mysteriously as he had appeared.
And so the old man packed his few belongings in a folded blanket, dropped them off at the neighbor’s doorstep, and made his way to the village center. The short trip took him a long time these days, and with each step the memories gnawed at him, as they had gnawed for 60 years.
He was fifteen again. Through the blood pouring down his face he could see his father writhing on the ground in front of him. Two triad members held his head up, forcing him to watch. In the chaos of merchandise being broken and customers screaming, the only thing that he could focus on was his father’s pathetic moans with each kick that landed.
Twenty-two. He had been running his father’s old store for three years, and had been on time each month with the protection money. Each month until today. Income had slowed to a trickle and his savings were finally depleted. He had returned home to find his infant daughter, alone. His young wife disappeared. The local police, their pockets lined with bribes from the triad’s sex slave trade, had chalked it up to infidelity.
Fifty. His daughter, who at birth had been promised to the fine son of an old family friend, had instead been chosen by the son of a triad boss. The man had not been permitted to see her in a decade. A small piece of parchment fell from his frail hands as he read its message- that she had died in childbirth along with his newborn grandson.
He had made it to the bench a half block from the triad’s stronghold, just before twilight. A soft glow from the setting sun cast his surroundings in gold, and the old man found it hard to push away the creeping sleep that beckoned. Suddenly he realized he was not alone. A silhouette had appeared down the road. At first struck by the godlike physique, as he came closer the old man could make out the dark limpid eyes and the artful tattoos displayed on his chest and face.
The newcomer apparently did not go unnoticed by the stronghold’s inhabitants, either. Six guards scrambled out onto the street, and began threateningly twirling nunchucks. The old man tensed, but barely a breath later all six guards were KO’d into oblivion.
The Platinum Warrior raised his head, and the old man noticed for the first time the triad boss and his underlings watching from the third story, whispering nervously. The triad boss shouted two names, and there emerged from the entranceway a monster. No, not a monster, thought the old man, straining his eyes. The colossal behemoth that now towered over the Platinum Warrior was in fact a pair of conjoined twins, the left hulking and massive with rippling muscles, and the right a slender, lanky creature who moved with the fluid rapidity of a Bamboo Pit Viper. With blinding speed the two attacked as one, slicing at the Warrior’s flank, while swinging a crushing blow to his shoulders. The Warrior twirled, off balance for only a second, as his momentum was converted to a cross uppercut combo that dug deep into the twin’s respective breadbaskets. Enraged, the muscular guard brought his palms together for a deafening clap that missed the Warrior’s face by a hair, and sent a shock wave that made the old man grit his teeth. The slender twin flicked out an axe kick at the warrior, who took the opportunity to slip between the brothers, taking their backs. Bringing their heads together, he locked in a double-guillotine choke, cutting off the vascular supply to both at once, thanks to his steely biceps.
A frightened shout went out from the triad boss, as the Platinum Warrior lowered the unconscious joint combatants to the ground, and slowly strode towards the front door. The old man could make out the pleading tones, but not the words of the doomed crimelord, as he saw the Warrior load up on a rising uppercut that struck the keystone of the arch with unbelievable force.
By the dim light of a waning moon, the townspeople slowly exited their crowded homes. The terrifying noises that had caused them to cower inside could not be explained by the rubble that now covered the square. Most were too frightened even now to approach the site where the triad’s stronghold once stood, but the silence that hung heavy there did not suggest survivors. In search of a witness who might offer explanation, a small group noticed the old man, sitting on the bench not far away. But in response to the chattering group’s questions, they received only a calm smile, frozen on the face of a cold, lifeless man, who had at last found peace.
