Leaving the school, Ming You approached the basketball court. The evening air was cool and fresh, the last rays of the sun slanted across the asphalt, painting it in warm, orange hues. But the atmosphere in the corner of the court was polar opposite.
A group of newcomers from the Yoshido basketball club stood huddled together. Their faces, usually expressing zeal or focus, were now twisted with darker emotions. They were discussing something among themselves animatedly but without their usual laughter; their gestures were sharp, their shoulders tense. In their eyes, there was not so much displeasure as anxious, suppressed irritation mixed with frustration.
"Where's So Ho?" asked Jen Ryu, pushing a stubborn lock of black hair from his forehead. His voice, usually loud and mocking, now sounded sharp and low, like the grating of a blade on stone. "He said clearly: 'Seven at the court, we'll sort out their tactics.' And we've been here for forty minutes. Like idiots. He's not answering at all."
"Maybe he just decided he doesn't need us," Mei Yu smirked, but the smirk was crooked, lifeless. He crossed his arms over his chest, as if trying to shield himself from the evening breeze and his own bad premonition. "Coach Chan Woo disappeared, now So Ho is ghosting us. Maybe he's just smarter than us and bailed on all this… bullshit."
Ming You, standing in the shadow of a sprawling spruce tree, felt something click quietly and coldly in his chest:
"What a perfect moment, heh-heh."
He stepped out of the shadow, his school shoes softly slapping the asphalt.
"Hey, losers," he began, trying to imbue his voice not just with confidence, but with a lazy, almost bored superiority. "Having a picnic here? Or do you actually remember there's a game on the line? One against five. Or have you already forgotten who you owe?"
Jen Ryu turned around so sharply he almost lost his balance. His face, sculpted and usually self-assured, contorted with pure, immediate contempt.
"Are you, motherfucker, fucking insane?" His voice cracked into a shout. He took two swift steps forward, clenching his fists with all his might. "You think we're obligated to talk to you, to a piece of shit like you? Get the fuck out of here, Ming You! Vanish while you're still in one piece!"
"Yeah, you idiot," Mei Yu supported. "You're dirt on the sole of a shoe. We're not obligated to play with you, you can't make us. The game is cancelled. Disappear."
Ming You didn't retreat an inch. He even tilted his head slightly.
"You're mistaken," he uttered, and his voice lost all inflection, becoming flat and cold. "Not only are you obligated, you will. Because your debts aren't just numbers in a loan shark's notebook. They're real people, with real influence. And if you don't step onto that court and lose as expected, your families will find themselves in… serious financial difficulties. And in our world, financial difficulties have a way of turning into health problems very quickly. Especially for elderly people."
A silence hung over the court, so thick you could hear the distant hum of cars from the avenue. Jen Ryu stood there, looking like he was about to explode. Blood rushed to his face, staining his cheeks and ears crimson. His breathing became ragged, whistling.
"You… are you threatening us?" His voice trembled, but now it wasn't a tremor of fear, but rage of immense power held in check.
Jen Ryu took two rapid strides and, before anyone could react, he grabbed Ming You by the knot of his tie and the collar of his impeccable shirt, pulling him so close their faces were centimeters apart. Ming You felt the hot, angry breath on his face.
"You pathetic piece of trash, you have no right to even think about our parents! I'll tear you to pieces!"
"It's a provocation, Jen!" Mei Yu sharply interjected, grabbing his friend by the shoulder. His own face was pale, but his eyes burned with a cold, calculating fire. "That's what he wants! Don't give him a reason!"
"A reason?" Jen Ryu snorted, but his grip didn't loosen. He measured Ming You with a gaze so full of hatred it seemed it could burn a hole in the air. "Even if it is, this bastard crossed the line. The very last one."
Ming You, not trying to break free, merely twisted his lips slightly. He looked straight into Jen Ryu's inflamed eyes, and his own gaze was empty as glass.
"Those aren't threats — they're statements of fact," he said quietly, so only the two of them could hear. "If you refuse to play, I, or rather, those whose interests I represent, will take care of your families. Use your logic, Jen Ryu. What will happen to your mother if her nice beauty salon suddenly owes a large sum to people who don't like to wait? She'll have to sell it for pennies… or find other, faster ways to earn money. Some clubs downtown are always in need of well-kept, attractive women her age. Especially if they're so lustful and have no choice, heh-heh."
It was said with icy, detached calculation. And it worked.
Jen Ryu snapped. The thought, the image planted in his mind, acted like a detonator. With a short, animalistic snarl, he released one hand and punched Ming You in the face with all his strength.
Thwack!
The blow landed squarely on the bridge of his nose. A short, crunchy crack sounded. Ming You staggered back, losing his balance, and fell to one knee. A warm, salty trickle of blood immediately streamed from his nostrils, flooded his upper lip, dripped onto the impeccably ironed white shirt, leaving small, bright scarlet stains.
He didn't groan. He just reached a hand to his face, touched his nose, and looked at the bloodied fingers. And then his smile, through the mask of blood, didn't fade. On the contrary, it grew wider and more crooked.
"Is that all you're capable of?" he hissed, and in his voice there was not pain, but some perverse pleasure. "A punch? That's your answer? How primitive."
The newcomers froze. The scene was surreal: their powerful player, Jen Ryu, stood breathing heavily, with wild eyes; and Ming You, with a bloodied face and a mad smile, slowly rose from his knee. Mei Yu sharply pulled Jen Ryu back.
"Enough!" His voice was like a whip crack. "That's exactly what he wants! If you maim him, not only will we be unable to seek help, it'll be a formal reason for his 'patrons' to come to our homes! Calm down!"
Jen Ryu, trembling all over, with difficulty tore his gaze away from Ming You. Rage fought within him with a sudden surge of cold, sticky fear for his mother. He was trapped.
Ming You, wiping the blood from his chin with the back of his hand, leaving a wide, rough smear on his cheek, added, addressing everyone now:
"So. The game. Tonight, late, on the same court. You will play anyway. Or I… they… will have to act differently. Less ceremoniously, heh-heh."
He paused, letting the words seep into their consciousness like poison.
"Alright," Mei Yu muttered, the first to recover from the shock. His face was stone. "We agree. But only because we effectively have no choice."
"A reasonable decision," Ming You said sarcastically, with a slight bow. He turned his back to them, demonstratively showing he wasn't afraid of a blow from behind. "Then until tonight. I hope you'll prepare a worthy performance."
He walked away without looking back, his silhouette dissolving into the thickening twilight. As soon as he was out of sight, Jen Ryu seemed to deflate. He leaned against the court fence and erupted in quiet, helpless curses.
"Bitch… bitch, bitch, bitch! What a fucking freak he is! I don't give a damn about him and his games! I'm not going to any court!"
"But we have to," Mei Yu spoke quietly, but his words were heavy as lead. "He's not bluffing, Jen. I saw his eyes. And you saw. He knows about the debts, knows about the families. This isn't schoolyard drama. This is something… else. If we call the police, it'll just give them a formal excuse. They'll say — we owe, we're not paying, we're threatening. It'll make everything a thousand times worse." He closed his eyes for a moment. "We need to pull ourselves together. Think everything through and prepare. If this bastard thinks he can just scare and crush us, he's mistaken. But we'll have to play. Play and… lose in a way that satisfies them. It's the only way out right now."
"Damn it…" Jen Ryu slammed his fist against the metal pole. The pain in his knuckles was sharp, clean, but it didn't overshadow the bitterness. "You're right. Damn it, you're right."