The air in the Crimson Lotus VIP room clung thick and sweet with the ghost of cigar smoke and spilled Baijiu. Levis, under the name ‘Zero,’ felt the hum of the city’s power grid a low thrum beneath his tailored silk shirt, a counterpoint to the sharper thrum of his own pulse. He leaned back against the plush velvet banquette, observing. His eyes, the color of jade in the muted light, tracked Jin, Zhang Miyan’s lieutenant, across the table. Jin’s fingers, adorned with a heavy gold signet ring, tapped an impatient rhythm on the felt as he considered his hand. A tell. Jin always did that when he held a pair of aces or kings, a small, almost imperceptible tremor of overconfidence. Another tell: the way his left eye twitched, a tiny ripple at the corner, when he bluffed. He was good, but not perfect. Nobody was.
Levis sipped his chilled chrysanthemum tea, the delicate floral notes a sharp contrast to the metallic tang of purpose in his mouth. The room throbbed with the murmur of bets, the soft shuffle of cards, the clink of high-denomination chips. Neon glowed through the frosted windows, painting the edges of the room in shifting hues of electric blue and violent pink. Levis watched Jin play three more hands, noting the casual arrogance that bordered on contempt for his opponents. Jin liked to dominate, to make his power felt. He was a shark in a pool of smaller fish, fattened by Miyan’s influence. Ling. The name, a silent scream in Levis’s mind, fueled the cold, precise calculations behind his gaze. Every tell Jin gave, every habit he displayed, was a piece of the puzzle, a step closer to the man who ruined his brother. The heavy silence around the poker table stretched, broken only by the dealer’s quiet instructions. Jin’s gaze, sharp and dismissive, swept over Levis for a fleeting second before moving on. Levis held it, impassive, a blank slate. He was Zero. An unknown, a new face at the periphery of Miyan’s empire, waiting for his moment to strike. The glint of a polished chrome lighter caught his eye as Jin lit another cigarette, the brief flare illuminating the hard line of his jaw. He was ready.
---
“Raise,” Levis said, his voice a low, even murmur that carried effortlessly across the felt. The chips, a neat tower of high-value purple and black, slid forward. Jin, mid-bluff with a king-high flush draw, paused. His left eye twitched. The tell. Levis didn’t look at him, instead focusing on the faint, almost invisible seam in the green felt. He knew Jin expected him to fold, to show the deference a newcomer usually offered. But Levis didn't play by expected rules. He watched Jin’s reflection in the polished surface of the table's edge, catching the subtle tightening of his jaw. Jin’s arrogance was a tangible thing, a thick cloak he wore. He wouldn’t back down, not in front of this many eyes. Not from Zero, the new face who had only won a few smaller pots tonight.
“You sure about that, *Zero*?” Jin drawled, a sneer twisting his lips. He pushed a stack of chips, easily double Levis’s raise, into the pot. His signet ring caught the light. “Or are you just feeling lucky?”
Levis finally met his gaze, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Luck has nothing to do with it.” He paused, letting the words hang, letting Jin’s ego fill the space. “But if you’re asking if I’m sure… I’m always sure.” He pushed his entire stack forward, all his chips, a casual, almost bored flick of the wrist. The table went silent. This was no longer a game of cards; it was a challenge, a test of wills. Jin’s face, usually a mask of cool indifference, flushed a deep red. His fingers, instead of tapping, gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. He hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected the new 'asset' to dare challenge him so directly. The dealer looked between them, a silent question in his eyes. Jin’s breath hitched. He had to call. To fold would be to lose face, to admit weakness. He slammed his cards down. A straight. Good, but not good enough. Levis flipped his cards, two black queens and a third, revealing a full house. Jin’s eyes narrowed, a viper’s glare. He swore under his breath, a low, guttural sound, as the dealer pushed the enormous pot towards Levis. The costly error, paid in chips and, more importantly, in pride. Jin’s gaze lingered on Levis, sharp and venomous. “You got guts, Zero. Or you’re just stupid.”
---
Levis carefully stacked the mountains of chips, his movements unhurried, almost deliberate. “Neither, Jin. Just observant.” He pushed a small portion back, a gesture of respect, a slight concession that only heightened the sting of Jin’s loss. “Perhaps you were distracted.”
Jin’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood, the sudden movement drawing every eye in the VIP room. His face was a mask of cold fury. “Distracted? No one distracts me, new blood.” He slammed a hand on the table, making the remaining chips rattle. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Taking my money, making a fool of me.” His voice dropped, a dangerous growl. “Prove it. Prove you’re not just a lucky amateur.”
Levis paused, his hand hovering over the last stack. This was it. The invitation. “How do you propose I do that?” he asked, his voice calm, betraying nothing of the predatory satisfaction coiling in his gut. Ling’s face, pale and broken, flashed behind his eyes. Soon.
“A private game,” Jin spat, leaning across the table, his breath hot with stale smoke and anger. “Just you and me. No limits. My club, my rules.” He paused, letting his challenge hang in the air, thick with menace. “Tomorrow night. Come alone. Don’t disappoint me.”
Levis looked at the man, the anger radiating off him like heat from a furnace. He saw Miyan’s shadow in Jin’s arrogance, in his thirst for dominance. This private game wasn't just about poker; it was about access, about proving his worth, his threat, to Miyan’s inner circle. He offered a slow, calculated smile, a flash of teeth that promised more than it revealed. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Jin.” The cold, resolute satisfaction spread through him, a certainty of purpose. He picked up his remaining chips, a casual shrug of dismissal. “Tomorrow night. I’ll be there.” Jin watched him, a mix of grudging respect and simmering rage in his eyes, as Levis turned and walked away, the soft click of his polished shoes barely audible above the club’s muted bass.
---
The street outside the Crimson Lotus was a kaleidoscope of sputtering neon and damp asphalt. Rain had fallen earlier, leaving slick reflections of the towering digital billboards that pulsed with advertisements for futuristic pharmaceuticals and luxury goods. Levis pulled the collar of his jacket higher, the night air a cool balm against the heat of the poker room. His mind replayed the exchange with Jin, every word, every gesture, a meticulous review. He had laid the trap, and Jin had walked right into it, arrogant and predictable. The path to Miyan was clearer now, paved with Jin’s wounded pride. A sense of grim triumph settled in his chest, a stark counterpoint to the hollow ache that never truly left him. Ling, he thought, a silent promise whispered into the humid night. The flickering red neon sign of the Crimson Lotus cast long, distorted shadows on the street as he turned the corner. He glanced up, a habit, a final check of his surroundings before disappearing into the labyrinthine alleys.
That’s when he saw him. Across the street, partially obscured by the stoop of a darkened noodle shop, a familiar silhouette. Dark hair, a posture he knew intimately, shoulders slightly hunched against the chill. Kaito. His past lover, a ghost from a life he tried to burn away. A sharp, almost physical pang hit Levis, cold as the street itself. Kaito stood absolutely still, unmoving, his gaze fixed directly on Levis, illuminated for a fleeting, agonizing second by the erratic pulse of the Crimson Lotus sign. The red light painted Kaito’s face in stark relief, an expression Levis couldn’t quite decipher—sorrow, recognition, accusation? Levis froze, his breath catching in his throat. He hadn't seen Kaito in years, had deliberately severed every connection, every memory, for this very mission. How… why was he here? The neon sign above the Crimson Lotus flickered again, plunging Kaito back into shadow, but the image was seared into Levis’s mind. Kaito, watching him.