They were still dragging bodies when Jinyong stepped into the street. Men hunched, patched wounds, spat curses. Steely Ning was propped against a crate, face twisted from the shock and the bruises. She straightened when she saw them, eyes looking annoyed.
Asami walked slowly due to the scene. She stopped a few feet from the bodies and stared. The equalists lay dead on the ground. Holes in skulls. Blood spread on the asphalt. Her face went somber. No sound came from her throat.
Jinyong moved towards Steely Ning. He cut through the crowd and stopped in front of Ning, holding his sniper case.
"You again," she snarled. "What do you want?"
He stared at the mess, then at the scattered gadgets. "Their weapons," he said. "I helped you and your goons. If it weren't for me, you'd probably be dead or at least really weakened now. In exchange, I want their stuff."
Ning laughed, short and bitter. "You? Helped us? My boys—"
"Shut up." Jinyong cut her off. "If you really don't believe me, I can do what I do to them to you and your boys."
She went still. The men around her glanced at each other.
Ning jerked her chin toward the bodies, sneering back in place. "Who are you, really, rich kid? Do you have hidden powers, or a secret toy or something?"
"Nothing like that," Jinyong said. He stepped closer. "Tell your men to not touch the tech. I'll take the smoke canisters, the gloves, the bolas. And please, dispose of the bodies clean. Keep the police blind from it."
Ning spat, but before she could answer Wei Ta pushed through, tossing an ice pack at her side. He looked at Jinyong, calm.
"You can have the weapons," he said. "The uniforms though, we keep. We need those for a counterattack if we have the chance. Bodies are ours to handle. Thanks for the help."
"What are you doing?" Ning's face twitched. "Am I not your leader? Why are you overriding me?"
Wei looked at her with a flat look. "Be grateful, Ning. You almost sent our boys to their graves. Next time plan better instead of blindly charging."
Her mouth opened, then closed. The men shifting around her wore the same look you give a leader who's just cost you. Quiet contempt. Ning's bravado folded into resignation.
Asami knelt near a fallen equalist and stared at the crumpled mask. Her hand shook. Jinyong crouched beside her, palm light on her shoulder.
"We'll take the weapons later," he said.
Then he stood and faced Ning again. He pulled a fat stack of bills from the sniper case and let the paper speak for him.
"I have a proposition," he said. "I'll pay. I want fighters. Non-benders. Tough ones. People that don't want to work with you anymore."
Asami was confused. "What are you doing?"
Jinyong just looked at her, assuring. "I'll tell you later."
Ning barked a laugh. "You want to poach my crew now? The rich boy wants to run his own gang?"
"I didn't say that," Jinyong said. "I said I need people. Again, I'll pay well. You need more recruits after this. Money helps with that. I know your sugar daddy has money, but I'm sure he limits your spending every month."
Ning looked like she was about to hiss, but ultimately, she didn't say anything.
Wei looked at the cash like a man assessing tide lines. He did the math with his eyes and nodded. "We don't have any men to spare. But, I can point you to someone who left us. You still need to convince her though. Of course, you'll need to pay for the info."
Ning's jaw tightened. She folded her arms, scowling at the feeling of Wei overriding her. Still, she tried to find some kind of authority in the matter.
"Fine," she growled. "You take the weapons. You pay. You get one lead. After that, get out of my face."
Jinyong nodded, throwing the bills to Wei.
Wei pocketed the cash. "Zhu Song runs a small training hall. She keeps to herself. She won't join any trifling gang, but I bet she listens to good offers that you will offer her on whatever you're planning. Zhu Song's at the hall near the canal."
Ning hesitated, then barked orders. Her men moved, grabbing the equalist trunks, the electric kai-sticks, the smoke tubes. They threw the uniforms into a separate pile for Wei's crew. A few men dragged bodies behind a screen cart. Someone covered the worst with canvas.
Asami rose slowly from her position. She touched Jinyong's arm once, then let go.
"Let's gather the weapons," Jinyong said to her.
—
Streetlights blurred past as they drove through the now empty streets of Republic City. The clock on Jinyong's pocket watch ticked close to midnight. Neither of them spoke for a while. The only sound was the low growl of the engine and the faint rattle from the looted weapons in the trunk.
Asami broke the silence first. "So… you're going to tell me what that was?"
Jinyong didn't look away from the road. "You mean recruiting people?" he said. "It's just that. I'm looking to recruit."
"From a triad?" she asked. "You don't think that's a bad idea? What if they're just spies for their bosses?"
"Maybe." He shrugged. "I'm planning to start a security company. They'll use my weapons. I'll train them. Tactics, coordination, proper defense. Stuff like that."
Asami frowned. "Then hiring from a triad sounds even worse. Shouldn't you at least do background checks?"
"I can't start yet," Jinyong said. "Not until your dad gets off my back about the weapons. If I start now, he'll notice it and ask me to produce for the equalists."
"Right…" she murmured, looking out the window. "Still doesn't explain why you're recruiting from a triad. The company doesn't even exist yet."
"That's exactly why, because it doesn't exist yet and I need trained men," he said. "Triads have non-benders who can fight. They've lived under bender rule, seen what it's like. They already understand the struggle. I don't need to train that part."
She gave him a long look. "So you're making another Equalist group," she said. "Only this time you call it a company."
Jinyong snorted. "It's not like that. It's just… I want a proper security force. One that's all non-benders. If we're protecting people, we'll be facing benders most of the time anyway. And those triad guys already know how to handle that."
Asami rolled her eyes. "Sure. And I'm supposed to believe you don't have something else in mind."
He gave a small laugh. "We'll need something to fight the Equalists with. That's all I'm thinking about."
That shut her up for a moment. Her eyes drifted back to the window, catching the faint reflection of her own face in the glass.
"Anyway, enough of that, what about you?" Jinyong glanced sideways. "Are you okay?"
She hesitated. "...I'm fine. Just a bit—" she exhaled softly, "—off."
"It'll pass." His hand brushed her thigh for a moment, comforting. "I told you, you should've gone back to the car."
She didn't answer right away. The city outside slid by in streaks of red and yellow light. Finally, she spoke. "Are we really going to keep doing that? Killing people like that? They're still… people. Someone's waiting for them. A mother. A lover. Someone."
"They made their choice the moment they put on the mask," Jinyong said quietly. "Still... Most of them probably believed the speeches. Equality, justice, all that. They don't realize the difference between wanting to be equal and wanting to oppress back."
"Brainwashed victims," Asami murmured. "Just… do your best not to… you know."
He gave a small hum. "Of course."
She leaned her head against the window, eyes half-lidded. "So… we're going to see this Zhu Song next?"
"Not tonight," he said. "You're going home. It's been a long day."
"Fine," she whispered, eyes closing as the car rolled through the sleeping city, engine purring like a heartbeat in the dark.
—
Jinyong stood by the desk, the dim light from the lamp casting a small circle over the polished wood. He picked up the telephone receiver and spun the rotary dial. Each click echoed softly in the quiet room until the line started ringing.
It didn't take long before a voice answered.
"Father," Jinyong greeted.
"Jinyong," came the calm reply. "Did you leave early at the Gala?"
"Yes, I went to get some air."
His father hummed. "Alright. Well, you never call just to talk. What is it this time?"
"I need land," Jinyong said. "Somewhere far. Away from residential or industrial zones."
There was a pause. "For what?"
"Training," Jinyong answered simply. "Also, a construction company that knows how to keep quiet."
A louder sigh followed. "This is about that security company again, isn't it? Son, I told you—"
"I know, Father," Jinyong cut him off softly. "It's just training for future employees. Nothing more. We need somewhere to start."
"What are you doing with these 'future employees' of yours?" his father asked. The tone shifted, less tired now, more probing. "Tell me first, then I'll see about your land."
"Father," Jinyong said, lowering his voice, "you've been tangled with the Equalists for three years now, we've had our fill with the deal with Future Industries. By the end of this year, we should pull out. All of us."
Silence. Then, a slow exhale. "...Are you serious?"
"Yes," Jinyong said quietly.
"Son, listen. They're planning something. But it won't come late this year. If we leave too early, we lose intel. We won't be able to stop them fully. And what about Asami? She just started working with her father. You want to suddenly burden her with all this?"
"I told Asami last year," Jinyong said. "I even brought her to one of our factories to prove it."
There was a beat. Then his father's voice jumped an octave. "You told her? And you know where the factories are?"
Jinyong hummed. "You didn't think I wouldn't know?"
A groan came from the other end. "I should've known," his father muttered. "And Asami? She didn't say anything?"
"She took it as well as anyone could," Jinyong said. "She made her peace. She knows what to do."
Silence again. Then, a slow inhale. "...Fine. About the land," his father said. "Training people will take time, you said? Late this year, maybe?"
"At the earliest," Jinyong replied. "If you already know when they'll make their move, then we'll just keep training until then."
His father was quiet for a long moment. "I'll talk to the real estate department," he finally said. "I'll see to it."
"Thank you, Father."
The line clicked dead after a short goodbye.
Jinyong put the receiver back in place and stood there for a while, listening to the faint buzz of the dial tone fading away. Then he sighed, long and quiet, and rubbed his face with one hand.
The room felt heavier than before.
"It's almost time until the Avatar arrives here…" he muttered to himself.