‘Yutai!’ The warmth in his mother’s voice was unmistakable. Her eyes brightened at the sight of her eldest son at the doorway as she pulled him into a tight embrace.

  ‘Mu, how are you?’ Up close, she still smelled faintly of starch and spice. Signature smells of their kitchen. She was a little past middle aged, stress writing fine lines across her forehead and the corners of her eyes. Her dark hair, once worn long, was pinned up.

  ‘I’m well, my love,’ she said, beaming. She guided him through the door and shut it behind them. ‘Come in. The kitchen’s alive with everything you love.’

  Yutai followed her inside. As he moved deeper into the family home, he expected the familiar walls to wrap around him, for rooms steeped in sweet memories to offer some kind of relief. Instead, there was nothing. No rush of comfort. No easing in his chest. Just silence.

  He trailed behind his mother into the kitchen, where the familiar scents of her cooking wafted through the air. Yutai took a deep breath, hoping to stir up those feelings he’d been expecting during his walk here.

  He felt his stomach rumble.

  That’s something, he thought. I’ll take it.

  ‘Come sit, breakfast is almost ready,’ she said, her hands adjusting her cooking gown. Yutai settled onto a stool at the dining bench and let his gaze drift over the kitchen. Before the Yang situation escalated, he made a point of visiting once every seven work-cycles, staying the night when he could. He tried to fix his mind on the moment. On how fortunate he was to be here again.

  Maybe I have to give it a cycle or two to fully settle back. Luckily, I have nothing but time now.

  ‘What’s on the menu, Mu?’

  ‘Braised pale-root vegetables…’

  ‘In pickled brine?’

  His mother had just topped a bowl with a ladle and placed it in front of Yutai.

  ‘The way I used to make it during your university days.’

  Yutai took up his chopsticks and stirred the bowl. The steam carried the same sharp, comforting scent he remembered. Everything about it was familiar. Yet the spark he’d expected, the small thrill that used to hit him whenever he came home to food he loved, was gone. It felt no more personal than the street meals he ate in his spare time with Shing.

  ‘Pangfua!’ his mother called, without turning from the stove. ‘Your big brother’s here!’

  The house answered at once. Footsteps hammered the stairs, fast and careless, and then Pangfua burst into the kitchen, face bright as a lantern.

  ‘Big brother!’

  Yutai set the chopsticks down and stood. He caught Pangfua in a firm hug and lifted him slightly off the floor, holding on longer than he meant to.

  When he eased back, he took in the details properly. Pangfua was already in his school uniform, looking ready to head out: hair oiled and slicked neatly to the left, a white button-up shirt tucked into black shorts. Seven years younger than Yutai, and yet near the end of his secondary education now, almost an adult. The thought landed strangely, as if time had been moving without Yutai’s permission.

  For the first time since arriving, relief finally loosened something in his chest. If it had to come at all, he was glad it came this way. Of course it took his little brother to drag it out of him.

  ‘How have you been, little guy?’ Yutai asked as he let him go. He nodded towards the stool beside him. ‘Come on. Join me for breakfast.’

  ‘I’ve been alright, big brother,’ Pangfua said as he slid onto the stool beside him. His voice dipped. ‘Please tell me you’re staying over?’

  Their mother set a second bowl down in front of Pangfua, the steam rising between them.

  ‘Of course I am,’ Yutai said, smiling as he rubbed his brother’s back. ‘There’s nowhere else in Kowloon I’d rather be.’

  Pangfua’s face lit up. ‘Then you’ve got to tell me everything about the mission. It’s a bloody tragedy my own brother pulled off a damn regicide and I’ve not heard a single thing about it.’

  Yutai chuckled. Kid’s actually proud of me. ‘You haven’t been going round telling your friends I was part of it, have you?’

  ‘Of course not! I remember what you told me when you graduated as a Praefect: ‘No going around batting your mouth off about my work!’’, Pangfua imitated Yutai’s instructions when he graduated from the academy a couple of annui-cycles back.

  ‘Remember, you risk Mu and Fu’s safety if you did anything like that. The city’s a dangerous place. More so than ever.’

  Yutai sounded more serious than he intended. Before the silence could settle, Yutai forced a laugh and leaned back. ‘That’s a line from a spy film I watched the other night. In case you couldn’t tell.’

  Both his mother and Pangfua let out a chorus of laughter. The truth was that Yutai cherished sharing his Kingmaker adventures with his family, even though it wasn’t strictly appropriate. Their promise to keep his tales within the walls of the Shehui home was his only condition.

  ‘How’s Fu, Mu?’ Yutai asked.

  ‘He’s well.’ She smiled. ‘You missed him by ten minutes. He’s already off to work. But I can tell he’s proud of you. The other night he kept saying, “The Shehui family is officially part of Kowlooni history.”’ She tipped her head towards Yutai’s untouched bowl. ‘So, are you finally going try the food?’

  Yutai snorted, picked up his chopsticks, and dug in. Pangfua did the same.

  ‘Mu, this is incredible,’ Yutai said between mouthfuls. ‘Please, sit down and join us.’

  ‘No,’ she replied, waving him off. ‘I had something when I woke up. I’d rather stand here and watch you two eat.’

  Turning to Pangfua, Yutai asked, ‘So, how’s school going for you, king?’

  ‘Actually good,’ Pang began. ‘Got my grades back from the half-cyclicals. Almost topped my class, but this one girl, big brother, always seems to just do better than me.’

  Yutai’s mouth tugged into a grin. ‘I’m glad your competitiveness hasn’t dimmed.’ He nudged Pangfua lightly with his elbow. ‘But that’s life. You give it everything and some asshole will still outperform you by just a little. Same thing happened to me at the academy… Though, to be fair, I might’ve been the asshole.’

  Pangfua spluttered with laughter. ‘Was it brother Shing you were competing with?’

  Yutai turned towards his mother, putting on a look of exaggerated concern. ‘Mu, this kid’s asking far too many questions. Might be a Yang.’ He winked at Pangfua.

  ‘This kid has also been partying a bit too much with his friends after the dimming,’ Yutai’s mother added, arms folded.

  ‘Pang. Really?’ Yutai turned to his brother and copied his mother’s posture, though the glint in his eye gave him away. It was a well known fact he’d hardly been innocent at Pangfua’s age.

  Pangfua shifted on his stool. ‘It’s not what you think. I’m just spending time with my friends after school. Mu treats every outing like it’s some wild party.’

  ‘And where do you lot go for these “outings”?’ Yutai asked.

  Pangfua opened his mouth, but their mother cut in at once. ‘To the northern core! Pak, Tsin Wai, Light knows where else.’

  Yutai’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What? Why are you going all the way up there? There are plenty of decent nights out in Chau Liu.’

  ‘Yutai!’ his mother snapped. ‘He’s preparing for his academy trials. He doesn’t need any partying at all.’

  Pangfua rushed to defend himself. ‘I promise, big brother, we don’t go anywhere we’re not supposed to. The northern core’s just… nicer. All the lights, the events. And on the Christian side of town they’ve got proper festivals this time of year. It’s just boring here in Yu. Hardly anything ever happens.’

  Yutai nodded, conceding the point to his brother. ‘Well, what can I say, he’s not wrong. Yu might genuinely be the most boring district in Kowloon.’

  His mother shot him a look.

  ‘Alright, alright,’ Yutai said, holding up a hand. ‘But you do have the trials coming up. Once-in-a-lifetime exam, buddy. Don’t sabotage yourself for a bit of bread and wine.’

  ‘You know I’ll do good,’ Pangfua insisted. ‘Besides, I’m never alone. Five friends minimum.’

  ‘It’s still not safe to travel that far from home,’ his mother said, voice rising. She pointed her chin at Yutai. ‘Tell him. You said it yourself. You’re the only one he listens to.’

  Pangfua turned to her, smug as anything. ‘Mu, brother said that was only a line from a film.’

  ‘Mu, honestly, the central-northern districts are pretty safe,’ Yutai added. ‘Probably safer than Yu these days. The Zhaisheng’s improved life up there a lot.’ He glanced at Pangfua. ‘And you’re not going beyond the core districts, right?’

  Pangfua shook his head so earnestly his slicked hair nearly lost its hold.

  His mother stared at Yutai. ‘You’re encouraging him?!’

  ‘No.’ Yutai lifted both hands in surrender. ‘I’m still going to make him promise he’ll stay within Yu’s borders.’ He angled his body towards Pangfua, voice turning teasing. ‘Well? Are you going to be a lousy rebel, or are you going to listen to the brother who just regicided a rebel tyrant?’

  Pangfua dropped his gaze to his bowl, suddenly very interested in the steam. ‘I’ll listen to my brother who regicided a rebel tyrant,’ he muttered, looking as though he was holding in a laugh.

  Yutai chuckled, but the sound didn’t quite reach his chest. Hypocrite, he thought.

  Pangfua knew it too. Yutai had been worse at that age, not better. Late nights, reckless parties, and little expeditions into every corner of the city: the West’s clubs, the East’s brothels, the South’s pipe dens, the North’s casinos. The sort of places their parents would have dragged him out of by the ear if they’d known, and he and Pangfua both knew exactly why they hadn’t.

  The Shehui brothers were good at keeping secrets. They always had been.

  Eventually, Pang left for school. Yutai spent the cycle on the living-room sofa, catching up with his mother in fits and starts. When Pangfua came back late-cycle, Yutai told him about the regicide. The planning, the training, the approach, and the moment Mingchi died. Pang listened like it was a legend being recited just for him. Danger and intrigue. Violence and valour. Kingmakers and gangsters. It was the same kind of story that had captivated them both when they were younger.

  There were details Yutai didn’t mention. Some of it was deliberate. Some of it he skipped without thinking, as if those parts didn’t belong to the same memory at all.

  As he laughed with his mother and brother, he realised how distant he felt from his own life. A part of him was still out there, detached and watchful, trapped behind his eyes, reaching for a happiness that wasn’t coming.

  By the time dimming started outside, his father returned from work. Fu greeted him with the same bright, unmistakable pride Pangfua had shown earlier. Not long after, their parents retired to their bedroom, leaving the brothers alone.

  In Pangfua’s room, they fell into video games like they used to. Yutai kept winning out of habit, quick and effortless, and Pangfua kept groaning and laughing and demanding rematches. But the alienation only sharpened. Every victory felt hollow. Even when Pangfua finally managed to beat him once and whooped like he’d conquered the whole city, Yutai smiled and played along, the cheers fading into the back of his mind.

  But the regimented rhythm of Yutai’s Kingmaker life caught up with him. His body wanted rest long before Pangfua was ready to stop. Despite his groans, he gave his brother a quick kiss goodnight and retreated to his old bedroom, a time capsule he’d deliberately kept unchanged since his early academy days. Tonight, for the first time, it felt suffocating.

  The posters on the walls. The study desk crowded with books, figurines, and comics. None of it felt like his. The room looked familiar, yet it carried the wrong weight, as if it belonged to a stranger and he was only borrowing the space.

  He tried to summon the excitement he’d once felt pinning things up, arranging the little ornaments of his hobbies and passions, but the memory wouldn’t come. These days, it seemed there was only one thing he cared about: taking down the Yang. The Ibilis. Not films, not games, not comics, not anything that used to make him feel alive.

  Yutai stood in the middle of the bedroom, clenching his fists as the sense of dislocation gnawed at him. He was painfully aware that something profound within him had shifted.

  He forced himself to move. He opened the wardrobe, changed into nightwear, and got into bed. With a deep, steadying breath, he quietened the racing thoughts as best he could and willed himself towards the only escape he had left: sleep.

  The corridor stretched long. It narrowed and widened with his heartbeats, as if he was inside his own throbbing throat. Lights struggled and flickered. The red carpet is wet. His boots slapped against its soaked surface as he walked forward. But the sounds were mute. Then the dark started bursting into white. Flash. Black. Flash. In every flash there was another body on the carpet, like the corridor was printing them.

  Helmets cracked. Faces slack. Dead before they even lived.

  He felt his wrist buzz. It was his holocommunicator, a message displaying in the hologram.

  “Finish it off. Look at their faces and finish it off.”

  He crouched and peeled the first helmet away.

  Pangfua.

  He ran to the second, ripped off the helmet again.

  Pangfua again.

  Third. Fourth. All Pangfua. Same face, same hair slicked neat for school, the innocent look he wore in the mornings. Only now the skin was sickly pale, the mouth slack, and the eyes hollow.

  The flashes kept coming, and with each one the carpet filled with more of him. They stretched down the corridor, fading into the distance until the corridor itself disappeared.

  A drone started in his ears. It became louder, louder, deafening. Yutai clutched his ears to silence the loud sound, but it just got louder.

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  Yutai’s eyes snapped open the moment his door whooshed aside. He lay with his back to the entrance, body tensing like a spring. Footsteps approached, steady and unhurried, and his heart kicked hard against his ribs.

  Then it hit him. The Ibilis. Not a sound, not a sight, but an oppressive presence that filled the room, so heavy Yutai could almost feel the grin behind the mask.

  Is he here for vengeance? For the innocent lives he took at Mingchi’s estate? Panic clenched his throat, but his limbs wouldn’t move.

  Powerless again.‘Big brother? Are you awake?’

  The voice cut through the panic. It was only Pangfua, soft and familiar, tugging at the edge of Yutai’s blanket.

  The room snapped back into place. Yutai’s muscles unclenched, the pressure easing as quickly as it had come. Just his little brother. But the fear didn’t vanish so much as retreat, like it merely stepped back into the dark where it could wait.

  ‘Pang? What are you doing up this late?’ Yutai asked, turning to face his brother in the dark.

  Pangfua wasn’t in the pyjamas he’d been wearing when they were playing games. He’d changed. He was dressed for the streets: sleek black platform shoes, dark baggy trousers, and a jacket Yutai recognised at once as expensive.

  Yutai’s stomach tightened. ‘What in the Light are you dressed up for?’

  Pangfua stepped closer and dropped to one knee beside the bed, lowering his voice. ‘My friends just called. There’s a huge event up in District Pat Sin. I want you to come with me, big brother.’

  Yutai sat up sharply. ‘What? Are you out of your mind, Pang?! It’s halfway through the damn sleep-cycle!’

  ‘Don’t you want to see what’s got Mu so worried? This might be my only chance to show you where I’ve been going. And it’s not like I’m going to stop once you’re gone, so you may as well see it for yourself. Just once.’

  Yutai stared at him. ‘I thought you told Mu you weren’t leaving the core districts. Pat Sin is all the way in North Kowloon!’ He clicked his teeth, shaking his head, frustrated.

  Still, a part of him felt the pull. The stupid, familiar thrill of doing something he shouldn’t, and doing it with Pangfua of all people. His little brother wasn’t so little any more. He was too young when Yutai was the one sneaking out.

  ‘Fine,’ Yutai conceded. ‘But you listen to me. If I say we go home, we go home. No arguments. Deal?’

  ‘Deal.’ Pangfua’s grin flashed in the dark. ‘Now come on, brother! And don’t think about tagging along in Kingmaker gear, that’ll be the end of our night right there.’‘Alright, that’s enough out of you, smartass,’ Yutai muttered as he swung his legs off the bed. ‘Go wait outside while I get ready. And don’t make me regret this.’

  Pangfua stifled a laugh and slipped out of the room.

  Yutai flicked on the lights and rummaged through his wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of grey track trousers, snug around the thighs in a way that made it obvious they were six annui-cycles old. A black T-shirt and a dark puffer jacket finished the look, enough to protect him from a night’s chill.

  He laced up sleek white high-top trainers, then reached deeper into the wardrobe and took out a small RS2 pistol. He tucked it into his waistband, hidden beneath the jacket.

  In the wardrobe mirror, he caught his own reflection and, for a second, saw the younger version of himself staring back: the one who used to roam West and North Kowloon with Shing and their academy mates, chasing trouble and adventure alike. He got a rubber band from his tabletop and tied his hair back and glanced at the mirror once more.

  Lookin’ good, Yutai.

  For all his talk of being the responsible older brother, excitement sparked in him the moment he stepped into the hallway. It was reckless, stupid, and familiar in a way he hadn’t felt in far too long. Something in his chest loosened, not fully, but enough to remind him what it was like to move without that constant weight of anxiety.

  He found Pangfua waiting in the living room, ready to go, a small bag slung across his back.

  ‘What’s in the bag?’ Yutai whispered as they moved towards the front door, careful as they passed their parents’ room.

  ‘Just some water and our tickets,’ Pangfua murmured back. ‘It’s about two hours to District Pat.’

  ‘Tickets?’ Yutai frowned. ‘What are we going to?’

  Pangfua’s smile turned cheeky, almost proud. ‘You’ll see. You’re not the only one who knows what’s happening in the city any more.’

  Yutai huffed a quiet laugh. ‘What, you trying to follow in my footsteps?’

  Pangfua unlocked the door, the mechanism barely clicking. ‘Is that such a bad thing?’

  Yutai held his gaze for a beat, then let himself smile, wary but real, and nodded once.

  The brothers slipped into the quiet streets of Yu, their footsteps the only sound in the sleep-cycle. Unlike the rest of Kowloon, Yu actually slept. Lanterns burned low overhead, washing the sandstone cobbles in a soft glow, while water murmured through nearby sewer grates. Behind them, Yu Tower loomed, its tiny windows pricked with orange light.

  Wandering through the dimly lit alleys, they were surrounded by the district’s pristine cleanliness. Above the short rooftops, the neighbouring districts’ groundscrapers rose in the distance, jagged silhouettes against the dark expanse above.

  Pangfua was right about one thing: Yu had no nightlife, no real fun, nothing for someone his age. Yutai had grown up in Sung Wong, loud and alive, before Yutai’s scholarship bought them to Kowloon’s only centrally-planned district. Pang’s formative years were in this sanitised version of Kowloon instead.

  As they neared the Yu–Yau border, Yutai tried again to pry details of their destination out of him.

  ‘It’s nothing like anything you’ve been to,’ Pangfua had responded.

  ‘Oh yeah? Want to bet?’ Yutai murmured. ‘I’ve been to the Huang Wildlands, the highest rooftops of South Kowloon, while high, mind you. Raves in the East’s sewers—’

  ‘We get it, big brother.’ Pangfua cut in with a quiet laugh. ‘You’re a hotshot Kingmaker.’ He nudged Yutai with his shoulder. ‘Just wait till I join. I’ll top it. I’ll even explore the surface.’

  Yutai decided he would seize the moment. ‘So, we gonna talk about the outrageous fib you’ve got going on at home? Both Mu and I strictly warned you to not leave the Core worlds, and you reassured me you weren’t. And now here I am hearing you’re a regular patron of the North. When did little Pang start lying?’

  ‘It’s been a while,’ Pangfua said with a chuckle.

  Yutai slowed down for half a step and made him meet his eyes. ‘Lose the smile, mister. Lying isn’t a good look on you.’ He held the look. ‘I don’t care that I’m coming with you tonight. After this, no more trips to North Kowloon. I’ll cover for you with Mu and Fu as long as your outings are safe, and safe means on my terms. Go wild in the nearby districts if you have to. Understood? The core districts are your limit.’

  Pangfua didn’t argue. He walked in silence for a stretch, then gave a small nod.

  ‘That’s a good boy,’ Yutai said, softening. He ruffled Pangfua’s slicked hair with a quick brush of his hand. ‘I get it. I was your age once. You be fair to me, I’ll be fair to you. Now, where are we going to meet with your friends?’

  ‘At the venue,’ Pangfua said, eyes forward. He sounded deflated, but Yutai knew that if Pang was anything like himself at that age, a stern talk is what was needed.

  At the border checkpoint, they stepped into a booth staffed by a Ji Sia gangster. The room was sparse and functional, wedged into the sixteenth level of a Yau groundscraper, more turnstile than office. They handed over their district IDs. Yu papers came with privileges, and one of them was simple: passage anywhere in Kowloon, no questions asked.

  Pang’s probably been making the most out of that.

  The Ji Sia gangster, eyebrows raised in suspicion, scrutinised the IDs. His eyes flickered in surprise looking at the ordinary-looking young men before him at this late hour, brothers, with one claiming to be a Kingmaker. But Yutai knew the guard could not fault documentation. After a few clicks at his terminal, he handed the IDs back, tracking them curiously as they left.

  As soon as they stepped out of the border booth, District Yau hit them like a wave. Noise, light, movement. Where Yu slept, Yau stayed awake. The real face of Kowloon.

  Yutai kept close to Pangfua as they merged into the night flow. ‘Alright, king. What’s your brilliant plan? How are we getting to Pat Sin in two hours? You didn’t expect me to get us on the King rail, did you?’

  ‘King rails aren’t that special anymore! Private companies have their own monorail tracks, inspired by Kings.’

  ‘So you guys are flying around on rip-off King rails?’

  ‘I wish. These ones don’t span the whole of Kowloon. Just within precincts. The Jung Xhe internal line cuts straight through the complex and then a PC-C dumps us right at the northern border. No ID checks or anything.’

  ‘You can get into the North just like that? Man, my younger days could’ve used that shit. We used to sneak onto the backs of corpo caravans and bribe border guards just to get a taste of the North for one night.’

  ‘Things change quick nowadays,’ Pang said, the maturity of his language catching Yutai by surprise. ‘One annui-cycle and whole blocks look different.’ He glanced up at the glow of the towers around them. ‘That’s the Zhaisheng, I suppose. You’d know better than me.’

  After some walking, the two brothers stepped into the grandeur of the Jung Xhe Core Shopping Centre amidst the crowds of the sleep-cycle. The mall was enormous, stretching many kilometres across multiple groundscrapers, a truly extravagant piece of infrastructure. It would get them through and out of Ji Sia city.

  Yutai had been here plenty of times when he was younger. It never seemed to quiet down. Even now in the late sleep-cycle, it felt like peak hour.

  The interior gleamed with gold, silver, and bronze, every surface polished and smooth. Massive glass chandeliers hung high overhead, their prisms throwing slow ripples of fractal light across the tiled floors. The air was filled with the pulsing rhythm of Kow-pop music, from speakers set into the walls.

  They walked along a glass railing, balconies stacked above and below in wide rings, each level packed shoulder to shoulder with shoppers walking across lines of storefronts. The sleep-cycle shoppers weren’t families with kids. It was groups of friends out for the night, couples clinging to each other, and lone shoppers drifting through on late errands.

  This place had everything. There were luxury tailors offering same-cycle alterations, fragrance bars misting the air with designer scents, and jewellery counters where holographic koi swam through the shop’s interior. Sleek electronics showrooms demoed neural earbuds and pocket drones hovering on the spot, while designer streetwear shops flashed limited drops behind velvet ropes and long queues. Toy shops announced sales with animatronic mascots, and tucked between them were high-end tea stores, dessert houses selling lacquered sweet fungal jellies, and clinics showing off ‘skin renewal’ services in just twenty minutes. Pangfua and Yutai lingered for a moment at shop windows, then moved on to the next storefront.

  It was a shopping centre that reflected Kowloon’s excesses: bright, expensive, always awake.

  They cut through the food courts, past neon ramen stalls and skewer grills hissing under extractor fans, past dessert kiosks piping soft-serve into gold-leaf cones and tea bars pouring shimmering jelly into tall glasses. Vendors barked specials over the chatter, holograms looping above their counters: steaming bowls, perfect cuts of meat, cartoon mascots bowing and calling in passers-by.

  They paused at a massive fountain in the centre atrium, its water lit from below. Pangfua flicked a Hong into the pool, watching it float then settle amongst hundreds of other coins at the bottom.

  Through it all, Yutai kept a watchful eye on Pangfua, brotherly instincts sharpening in a place like this. Jung Xhe might’ve been polished, but it wasn’t sanitised of danger.

  Pickpockets drifted through the crowd. Shoplifters moved fast between stores. Even random violence here wasn’t rare enough to shock anyone. It was the kind that ended up as news on the Kowlooni Network: some chromed-up junkie overwhelmed by the lights and noise, eyes gone blank, pulling a blade and entering a stabbing spree.

  Security in black visors and armour always moved fast, swarming the spot and snapping up portable screens to hide the blood before it could slow business. Jung Xhe didn’t stop for panic. And it didn’t care who got caught in the chaos.

  But the balconies were worse. Yutai kept a close watch on them, ready to pull Pangfua’s attention away if anything happened. Nearly thirty levels of open drop, built to make the place feel grand, and perfect for a different kind of ending.

  Suicides.

  Yutai had seen bodies hit the lower floors hard enough to swallow every other sound for a split second. A deep, ugly thud that took unwilling victims with them at the bottom, too. The shouting afterwards. The crying. The crowd craning for a look at the mangled bodies below. He’d always thought of it as a selfish exit, a final gesture that hoped to earn them a headline on the way out. It was the kind of thing Pangfua should never have to witness.

  It didn’t take long to reach the first inter-mall monorail platform. It hung in open air between the balconies: a narrow strip of metal flooring with a waist-high barrier, and balconies stacked up and down on every side around them. The shopping centre felt even bigger from here, and Yutai felt uncomfortably miniscule.

  People stood or sat along the barrier, boxed in by hovering carts piled with shopping. Everyone kept checking the digital ETA display, tapping knees or droning through their devices as they waited for the train to show. The brothers stood in an empty space and settled. The platform displays tracked the monorail’s position through the mall. One minute away.

  ‘You said your friends are going too, right?’ Yutai asked. ‘Old schoolmates?’

  Pangfua shook his head. ‘No. I don’t really hang with them any more. These guys are new, from other districts. I met them on the Kowlooni Network. We’ve been doing these nights out for the past menses-cycle.’

  Yutai raised an eyebrow. ‘So they’re the ones turning you into a Kowlooni nightcrawler?’

  ‘Pshht. Light, no. If anything, I’m probably the bad influence,’ Pangfua said, grinning. ‘They can’t get enough of me.’

  ‘Let me guess. It’s because you told them your big brother’s a Kingmaker?’

  ‘Damn straight. I really couldn’t hide it when I told them I’m a Yu resident. They talk to me as though I’m the Kingmaker. But they seriously can’t wait to meet you.’

  Yutai didn’t smile. ‘They’re not some street kids, are they?’

  Pangfua rolled his eyes. ‘You must think I’m as still young and dumb as before, brother. You’ll meet them soon enough. It’s only three guys: Lokyan, Faijun, and Haozhe. Lokyan’s the son of a big North Kowloon investor. Faijun’s got family in the grand clergy. Haozhe’s old money, family’s core district business types.’ He leaned closer. ‘You’ll see.’

  Yutai exhaled through his nose. ‘So, gonna tell me now where we’re headed?’

  Pangfua hesitated, then gave in. ‘Alright, I’ll give you a hint. It’s an underground club. Haozhe’s cousin knows the DJ apparently. He got us tickets.’

  The monorail glided into the platform. The shuttle was clearly built for the mall, not the environment of Kowloon, as the King rails were. It was white and grey, short and sleek. Wide glass windows and doors, with a squeaky clean exterior.

  ‘Underground clubbing?’ Yutai asked, keeping his voice low as people streamed out of the carriage. ‘Since when did you get into that scene?’

  Pangfua looked the other way. ‘I’ve just been… Trying new things. Stuff I’ve never done before.’ He hesitated. ‘I like the parties. And a few other things I’ve… Dabbled in.’ His voice thinned, then he tried to recover. ‘Things you used to do all night as well, remember?’

  Shoppers began flooding into the carriage, prompting the brothers to follow them inside.

  ‘Hey, don’t pin these new behaviours of yours on me,’ Yutai countered firmly. ‘Yeah, you’re the age I was, but it wasn’t the same. You’re still chasing grades and working out your future. I was already buried in the Yu Academy on a scholarship to become a Kingmaker. And the bigger difference is this: Kowloon just isn’t as safe as it used to be.’ He kept his eyes on Pangfua as the doors closed. ‘I see it up close. Being the family of a Kingmaker has never been more dangerous.’

  Bright route maps lined the walls between carriages. Along the curved ceiling edge ran a single long screen, looping adverts and flashing store deals from across the mall. They moved a few steps down the aisle and sat down on an empty bench.

  ‘Surely you can trust me when I say I can take care of myself,’ Pang said. ‘I’m not doing anything you’d never do yourself.’

  Yutai sighed. ‘That’s not a good thing, Pang. I didn’t do great stuff when I was younger.’ His voice softened. ‘I wasted time and money, squandered connections that could’ve better served me in the tower today. I don’t want you making the same mistakes I did.’

  ‘If your mistakes still got you where you are today,’ Pangfua said, ‘maybe they aren’t as bad as you’re making it out to be.’

  Yutai’s jaw tightened. ‘You’re not getting it. The bottom line is that you think we’re the same. We’re not.’ He kept his voice low, but it had bite.

  ‘And why not? Because you’re the only one allowed to be a grown up? You might’ve forgotten that I’m applying as an Aux-Kingmaker next annui-cycle, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got the grades to secure a spot. You say we’re different, but Mu doesn’t shut up about how much I remind her of you.’

  ‘That’s what all mothers say!’ Yutai snapped.

  ‘That’s convenient,’ Pang muttered under his breath.

  Yutai flinched. ‘No. Not convenient,’ he said firmly. He dragged a hand down his face. ‘You’re forgetting I didn’t grow up where you did. My public school could barely afford working screens. When the Sung Wong scholarship exams came around, I didn’t leave the house for two full annui-cycles unless it was to school and straight back.’ He jabbed a finger at Pang. ‘By the time I got us to Yu, I knew Kowloon better than most Kings in the tower. Can you say the same? You’re from Yu-bloody-Technical, best school in all of Kowloon. How many of your classmates have gotten into street brawls? Can tell the difference between the right and wrong person to piss off on the street? You’re a private school kid trying to play street rat because your brother used to be one. You won’t remember the life I used to live. You were, what, six?’

  Pangfua’s answer came flat. ‘I remember enough.’

  ‘You clearly don’t. You remember the comfortable move to Yu, kid.’

  ‘Stop calling me that.’

  ‘Like hell I will. You’re literally a—’

  ‘I stopped being a kid a long time ago,’ Pangfua’s face flashed.

  ‘You haven’t stopped acting like one.’

  Pang’s eyebrows pressed together. ‘Since you left and became a Kingmaker, I’ve had to be the man of the house. I help Fu with filing taxes,’ he ticked off with his fingers, voice shaking. ‘I carry the grocery crates when Mu’s back locks up. I haggle for them at the groceries because Fu can’t bargain like he used to. I check our doors are locked three times every night because you’re not there to protect us anymore. I’ve been doing that for, like… A long time now, trust me! You’re not there to see how I’ve held us three together because you’re all the way up in your tower.’

  ‘Oh, so that’s been your excuse for going to these parties? Because you’re the man of the house?’

  ‘It means I know how to do two things at once. Be responsible to my family while also knowing how to enjoy myself. Learning things about myself. It’s easy for you to tell me I’m all wrong after you’ve already done all that.’

  ‘You’ve got this all backwards,’ Yutai said, trying to calm his voice. ‘Let me tell you now that my time partying as an aux-Centurion was fucking stupid. And I’m not just saying that. You’re right, I do spend all my time in the tower. Forget about the Yang, or how dangerous Kowloon is. How much time you’ll lose in that damn tower is the real danger. And if you become a Kingmaker too, it’ll consume your life all the same. Right now I only see you once a menses-cycle, if I’m lucky. You think that doesn’t tear my heart in two? You think I don’t miss you guys every cycle? You think you’ll feel any different?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Sneaking out. Coming home late. Sleeping in until your parents are heading to bed. Family responsibility isn’t just helping around the house. It’s about being present as one family unit, even when you think it won’t matter. And when it finally hits you that you weren’t there enough, realising you can’t go back and fix it, you’ll hate yourself for it.’ He swallowed. ‘I know, because I’ve only just started hating myself for it too.’

  Pangfua blinked. ‘What?’

  ‘Mu and Fu aren’t getting any younger. And it’s easy to forget, but neither are you. Let them have a normal teenager while they still can. Give them ordinary days, proper memories, nights where Mu can still tuck you into bed. Before you’re gone for good. Light knows I didn’t give them enough of that.’

  He swallowed, voice tightening.

  ‘Maybe it’s not fair to put that on you, but you’re the last Shehui son left,’ Yutai continued. ‘I can’t undo what I wasted. And you’re… You’re my second chance to get it right with them.’

  Pangfua went quiet, jaw working, eyes fixed somewhere past Yutai’s shoulder. He gave a small nod without looking back. Yutai recognised that nod. It was the same one he used to give their parents right before doing exactly what he wanted.

  ‘I just don’t want you repeating my mistakes,’ he said softly. ‘You’re changing, king, I can see that. I just need it to be for the better, not the worse. For you, and for Mu and Fu.’

  Another nod.

  Yutai told himself he hadn’t just seen that kind of nod.

  I’m sorry, kid, Yutai thought as he stared out the window as the shuttle glided through the mall. I know you deserve better.