Mei’s heart was racing. She was in a run down store in Vine Hill. The thrumming of bass sounds could be heard from Dangerous Seasons, just further down the alley. She, along with three men, were in the back room – where the less than legal wares were kept.

One man was the stores owner. He was searching through a cabinet, looking for a box of poisons Mei was purchasing to replenish her supply. He was a homely old man, his hair and beard more gray than the black it used to be. He didn’t seem interested in how his product was being used – only genuinely happy to have a supply of income.

The other two were Wo Shing Wo. She wasn’t sure if they recognized her or not yet – currently she appeared as a blonde caucasian woman in her early 20’s. They were pressing the shop owner for information, though.

One of them spoke in Cantonese. This one, Mei knew. He was an enforcer for one of her rivals back in Hong Kong. The other, a new face, translated.

“He says he believes you. Not likely she would use her alias here. We want list of all clients who buy your poison.”

The men, who arrived while Mei was already in the back, didn’t yet know why she was here.

The old man speaks, “Now young man, why would I keep a list of clients who buy this sort of thing? You know that would only lead to trouble.” The man may have been bluffing but if he was it didn’t seem the other two picked up on it.

The triad speaks again in Cantonese, and the other translates, “You don’t keep tabs on your clients? Very sloppy, old man.”

Mei begins to feel relief as the men begin to walk out, but then the old man makes a crucial mistake.

“Ah, here it is right here ma’am, good old fashioned cyanide.”

The two men stop. This time, the second speaks for himself in English. “Cyanide? Quite a dangerous purchase for a lovely young lady like yourself.”

Mei attempts to mimic a southern draw. She doubted it would be good enough to fool the old man, but she was more worried about her pursuers.

“It’s for my husband, cheating bastard.”

The man chuckles before speaking, “Awe, young love gone sour?”, he brushes the back of his fingers along her face. “Thats a little harsh, isn’t it?”

He turned and left. This time Mei breathed a sigh of relief. After completing her purchas she left and began to walk to where she left her car. It didn’t take her half a block to notice the two were trailing her.

“Diu! Don’t follow me you idiots!”, she thought to herself. She knew they had probably already commed for help, she’d have to do this quick.

She casually turned into a cross alley, this one only a few feet wide – she needed to limit their movement. As she walked she loaded some software to assist with her Kung Fu.

She waited for ten seconds – ten seconds that felt like an eternity – before the two turned the corner. The first took a shot to the face, and went down instantly. He was the new one – the english speaker.

“Puk gaai, hai!” the other one shouted as he knocked Mei’s gun from her hand. The two exchanged parries hand to hand for only a few seconds before the man landed a knee to Mei’s stomach. She coughed a bit of blood, but found a weakness in his strike at the same time. Again, she attacked the man – who was now confident he would win the fight. Instead, Mei caught his arm and struck him beneath his armpit. She followed up quickly by pulling the man so that his head slammed into a waste dumpster. The man tried to stand, stunned, but couldn’t bring himself to his feet. A small puff of smoke could be seen from a data jack on the back of the man’s neck – his implant must have been damaged by the impact.

Mei producded her switchblade, and ended the man’s life with a quick slash to the throat. Usually, this knife is used for Mei’s pleasure…but she took no pleasure in these deaths.

Mei cleaned the blade and rushed to her vehicle.

When she finally got home, she sat on her couch and cried herself to sleep. Two more brothers dead by her hands. How long would this torture continue?