"Gina, you've gotten so big," Mr. Sung cooed as he set down our plates. It was ran packed with veggies, proteins, and savory flavors, just like I liked when I was fourteen.
It brought back to better tis. The bright spots between the bloody Yakuza assassinations and the grimy blackmail. The place had changed so much, and yet so little in that ti. The decor had been transford, and Mr. Sung had expanded to absorb the store next door, but it never lost that unique, hoy aesthetic.
Even the sll was the sa.
"You rember my order," I said, looking up at the man.
He smiled at and patted on the head. "Of course I did. Miwa never let forget. Sha she's off at university. She's going to be mad that she missed you. I hope you stay longer. She might co visit if she knows you're around."
George scoffed. "And you say she doesn't play favorites."
"You know how girls are with their girlfriends, and to be fair…you were very an to my Miwa."
George winced. "I bla it on hormones and inexperience, Mr. Sung."
He shook his head. "You know, her mother was a lot like you. She would pinch and pinch . It took an entire sester to figure out she was in love with , and even longer to drag it out of her."
George tossed back a shot of sake. "See? They had it good in the old days. Why didn't that work for ?"
Mr. Sung's brow twitched. "You had an eyepatch, and my Miwa knew better than to stick her nose in your business…" His voice lowered a touch.
The room suddenly felt colder, and the other guests quieter.
"Fair enough," George conceded.
Mr. Sung reached across and laid down Nathan's plate. It was identical to mine. I had ordered him the sa thing I was having out of rcy. He still had to figure out how to use the chopsticks. Luckily, Mr. Sung carried steel ones, which Nathan was currently eyeing like they were so alien contraption.
Mr. Sung noticed.
"And who is this gaijin?"
"Her boyfriend, of course," George answered quickly with a wicked grin, leaning across the table.
My lips twitched.
"You know better than that," I said to Mr. Sung.
He nodded sagely after throwing George a disappointed look.
"He does seem a bit young for you."
George chuckled. "They're the sa age, more or less."
Mr. Sung blinked at that, and Nathan looked up at the man, cheeks slightly flushed and a notch self-conscious at being observed. I could feel his Cursed Energy coiling up from where I was sitting. My hand ca down firmly on his knee before that initial embarrassnt gave way to anger.
"I am Mr. Sung. Very nice to et you," the man said with his quintessential smile and outstretched hand. His English was heavily accented, and Nathan stared at him like a bloated fish.
I nudged Nathan, and he slowly shook Mr. Sung's hand.
"I am…uh, Nathan Cross. It's nice to et you, too."
"Any friend of George or Gina is a friend of mine. I'll give you a discount for next ti you're in town."
Nathan chuckled at that and nodded.
Mr. Sung lingered for a few more seconds before departing. It was strange watching him leave. With a smattering of grey in his beard and a trim gut, he looked great for a man in his forties. Miwa must have been taking very good care of him.
"It's like stepping into a ti machine," George said, stretching his limbs out. "Still can't get over how good Mr. Sung looks. Feels like only yesterday we were here with the guys."
He pointed toward the corner.
"That's where that idiot kid tried pulling on your eyepatch."
"You broke her arm," I pointed out.
George snorted.
"Served her right," he huffed, shoveling a mouthful of noodles into his mouth.
Nathan watched him with a mixture of confusion and jealousy.
"How did you know about us entering the country?" I asked in clear English.
George didn't react imdiately. He finished his mouthful of noodles and tossed a piece of at into his mouth before answering.
"That's your own fault. You went with Fin of all people," he said, pointing his chopsticks at .
I shot him a glare, and he surprisingly confessed.
"I figured you were coming sooner or later, and I know which private airport Artisan favors for her wetwork, so…"
"You had that guy out there for days waiting for us?" Nathan asked, slightly baffled.
George shrugged. "I paid him a month's wage for what was essentially waiting around. I say it's a good deal."
"That's actually genius…"
"You haven't tried to push Artisan out?" I asked.
"Nope," he said plainly, "but I'm not about to help her twist any arms either."
He snapped the tips of his chopsticks together.
"My slavemaster days are behind ."
"Why?" I demanded, the word sounding almost like a heave.
"Am I done?"
"Did you leave !"
My voice cut through the restaurant louder than I intended, drawing sharp stares and worried looks. It took a mont before people went back to their dishes, giving my brother ample ti to study .
"You know why… I had to figure out who I was away from her. Away from everything…"
"What's there to figure out?" Nathan blurted out. "You're second-in-command of a global syndicate of badasses."
George's brows climbed so far up his face that his surprise was almost cartoonish.
Then he laughed.
It was a good, long, hearty one.
We drew even more attention, but George did not seem to care.
"I don't control shit. I will never control shit. Neither will Gina. It will always, always, always be about Artisan."
"What about the mission? Leveling the playing field?" Nathan asked. "She's right about them, you know. The superheroes and villains of the world. To them, the rest of humanity is just hostages and damsels."
"Don't forget pawns, sources of entertainnt, suckers, collateral damage, and slaves," George finished.
Then he looked at .
"Did I miss anything?"
"You forgot friends."
He nodded appreciatively.
"Of course. How could I forget the most important one?"
Snapping back to Nathan, he continued.
"The point is, we're no better. How have you been treating people ever since Artisan juiced you up?"
Nathan frowned slowly.
"Don't get wrong, she's right that humanity is about as durable as a wet noodle, but wiping out ninety-nine percent of them and ruling over the remaining one percent doesn't benefit anybody but her."
He took another bite from his bowl.
"The people will be sure as shit easier to manage. If she tried hard enough, I bet she could get all of them to swear a vow to her."
Nathan swallowed and set down his chopsticks.
"But we'll grow back stronger…" he said weakly. "We'd be untouchable in less than a hundred years."
"Probably," George said. "But her boot will still be on your neck."
He leaned back slightly.
"A thousand years in the future, and I bet it will still be there. She's no better than the aliens and monsters she pretends to protect us from. At least they were honest back at the whorehouse."
My control slipped for the briefest mont, and I snapped my chopsticks in half.
"That's enough," I whispered sharply. "You know why we're here."
He pounded another cup of sake and snorted.
"To drag back."
"I'd prefer you co gently," I said, leaning across the table, my eye drilling into him.
He seed unmoved.
"Didn't you like seeing Renji again?" he whispered, the sll of alcohol wafting with every syllable. "You know he's still in love with you. I never told him what Artisan made us do."
I gritted my teeth as the mories ca flooding back.
My nails dug into the edge of the table, snapping it.
Artisan had made bring him to the lobby of the hotel where she was staying. Renji's uncle was on the board of Japan's biggest technology firm, and he had lived like an ascetic. No family, no vices, no close friends, and no obvious vectors of manipulation.
In fact, the only thing he seed to care about deeply was his nephew.
So Artisan gave the boy cancer with a touch…and coerced his Uncle's loyalty to fix it.
But not before the boy was sterilized to save his life in a rushed dical procedure.
"Don't you hate yourself for what she made you do to all those people?" George whispered furiously, his eyes bloodshot. "You know as well as I do that Renji got off lucky. Thank fuck."
His words crushed , the mories hitting like a freight train. The worst part was that I had known. I knew what she was going to do to him, but I brought him anyway.
I saw Renji two more tis after that day. Once, after Artisan had removed the cancer, which had spread through most of his major organs. And a second ti, when I was leaving Japan for the last ti. Both tis, I could barely look him in the eyes.
"Why are you telling us all of this?" Nathan finally asked. "You know our obedience isn't optional."
He side-eyed .
"No matter how much we want it to be."
George's face split in two as his lips stretched into a full rictus grin.
"What if I can get around the vow?"
Nathan did a double-take, and I finally spoke.
"How?"
"Duel for it," he said, slamming his hands into the table. "Like we used to. Win, and you get what you want. But if I win…"
His grin widened.
"You get your freedom."
He gestured lazily toward Nathan.
"I'll toss Chippendales over here into the deal."
Nathan went completely silent.
"Fine," I said.
George clapped his hands and rubbed it together. "Let's do this."
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