Stepping into the Underworld

Frost City.

A little girl of about eight or nine picked her way across the idle street in the evening. The stench from the piles of discarded refuse had dissipated from the unbearable peak caused by the midday sun.

Dressed in a tattered, faded, cloth sack ripped so as to allow a disheveled head and grimy arms to poke out, she blended into her destitute surroundings. As she meandered across the lanes while cutting along narrow alleys, she steered clear from similar dressed little children.

Little groups of threes or fours, headed out of the slums to beg in the nearby markets or overturned the heaps of discarded rubbish in the hope of finding a meal or that elusive copper coin.

Shying away from the beggars, shrewd-eyed men, and gloomy faces, she entered the yard of a dilapidated, twisted shack. Across the lane, an old wrinkled woman sat on a bench before a similar hovel, crooning to her ten-year-old grandson, as he prodded inside a pile of dung with a weathered stick.

"An orphan arrives in hunger."

With a soft voice, she said the words next to the door after knocking an accustomed tune. The half-broken door creaked open, ushering her inside. This one-room structure contained strewn rags in a corner to serve as bedding, a twisted washbasin on a small table and a short uneven wooden bench.

"Brother Lin is waiting. The others have all returned."

The lone inhabitant of the hovel turned out to be a boy of a similar age. While talking, he removed a few boards from the floor, opening up a narrow tunnel. The girl nodded, before crouching down and beginning her crawl.

Hope burst out from her heart when she saw the flickering light at the end of this narrow, damp shaft. She then exited within a large room. Unlike the previous hovel, this wooden shack repelled the usually invasive sunlight, with a candle as the only source.

"Little Bubble, you're finally here. Washup first, and then have a meal before you report."

"Big Brother Lin, it can wait. I've found them, I found the hideout."

For the first time in a few days, a smile blossomed on the face of the little girl. Her words cause the one titled Brother Lin to rise while trembling with noticeable excitement. He hurried over to a flat table in the corner, which occupied nearly a third of the room.

Wooden blocks of all shapes and sizes scattered over it, casting the impression of a game for kids. On closer inspection, one would realize those discarded pieces of scraps maintained order among chaos. The spaces between these blocks contained words.

"Licome... Licorn lane. Yes, Licorn lane. This amount of stones down, on the left. Large wooden house, bigger than the shacks all around. They have a man with shifty eyes sitting at the door, with another dressed as a beggar walking up and down the lane."

Lin held another candle as he searched for the name. Finding it, he checked the tiny pouch and counted the pebbles before comparing it to the three-dimensional image on display. Sure enough, a larger wooden rectangle proved the girl's tale.

Presently, this map displayed the combined efforts of discarded, and once suffering children. It focused on a particular area that included a business street, gambling dens, and nearby slums. Four little children dressed in clean clothes and munching on bread hovered over the map.

"Bubbles is right. I and Jay walked that lane to count and whittle the wood houses. But how did you guess the beggar is a guard?"

A young boy asked while savoring the bread and meat in his oily hands. The little girl scoffed.

"Have you ever seen a beggar spend all day walking up and down a slum lane? Even I know that the best place to loaf would be out in the market. Besides, I glimpsed a small sword hidden under his robes. You guys should pay more attention to what Brother Singh taught you."

Bubbles answered smugly.

"Great work Bubbles but don't look down on your little brother. They spent the last few nights finding out the locations of all the top members of the Walsh gang. All those colored stones on the map are their work."

***

Four men stumbled out from a large building and inhaled the slum scented air. Overhead, a crescent moon hung like an ominous scythe as boisterous laughs followed their loud conversations.

"Damn, I can't believe you're so good at gambling Boss. You slapped the faces of those thugs from the Blood gang right back into their block!"

"Haha, the Boss is so cool. Serves them right, trying to worm their way into our territory."

"Such fools, thinking we might be some easy pickings. I sent an order to the boys. Before they leave our streets, they will pay double."

The leader smirked while displaying some crooked teeth. This gambling den belonged to him, so obviously he would win. The fawning words from his subordinates boosted his ego. He staggered a little under the influence of the cheap ale.

A single gong vibrated out from the center of the city.

"Ah, it's now midnight? So early? Come, brothers, let's celebrate our winnings tonight. I hear the Madame within our block has found some fresh fruits. Let's coax her into having a bite."

The boss chuckled as lewd thoughts flashed across his mind. As the underworld rulers of this particular district encompassing a few streets, lanes and alleys, they snaked along familiar shortcuts towards their goal.

On stumbling across a narrow alley, they kicking a sleeping beggar in their jollification. The dim lighting did not deter these men of the night. When born in the slums, one matured under the absence of streetlamps and the presence of smog from expired firesides.

"Boss, I am going to ride all night long in..."

The subordinate leading the way, exited the alleyway had commenced his boasting, only to be halted by a crossbolt that broke into his skull from the side. His mouth remained open while slumping to the mossy yard with his tongue lolling out.

His two companions who fanned out naturally from the passage also received similar greetings. One facepalmed the cobbled stone, with a bolt sticking out from his ear, while the other dropped on his back as the deadly iron churned through his forehead.

Three bolts fired in mutual fashion from point-blank range. The victims probably never even noticed the hooded figures melding into the shadows, much less identified any particular trait.

"What the..."

The boss of the Walsh gang slurred on witnessing the ambush. The audacity of the merciless actions sobered him completely. Within these streets, he ruled as the sole monarch.

Beggars and thugs under his payroll reported the movements of any strangers, making a scene like this improbable. Yet tonight, when he found himself vulnerable, someone launched a sneak attack. Worse, the majority of his gang focused their activities on the far side of his territory, ironically dealing an ambush to a rival gang.

He scrambled and floundered into the ally, hoping to escape only to find a beggar impeding his path. An arm in tattered clothing rose in the darkness, followed by a metallic strumming.

The leader of the Walsh gang dropped dead.

"Grab the sacks and then bag them."

The beggar commanded while scanning the lane for signs of life. Soon, four cloaked figures snaked along the hidden alleys towards their plotted destination. In the darkness, chalk arrows or colored stones helped navigate this wooden maze.

Soon a flat wooden house entered into view. The beggar paused within the darkness of the hidden alley until a tiny figure circled the house and trotted down the nearby street. The killers picked their steps and knocked on the door.

"What took you so long. We're finished."

A cloaked figure greeted as the guest tossed four sacks on the floor. The wooden planks creaked under the combined load from the nine sacks. A message scrawled onto a table lay nearby. Like a ghost, they disappeared into the night.

***

Doug tossed his beggarly disguise and then wiped his body. Flinching, he rubbed some cheap ointment onto a few purple bruises. Drying his hair with a towel, he walked bareback into the main room.

A large rectangular table occupied the center, with a throne-like chair on one end accompanied by normal wooden chairs. Long wooden benches lined the walls over which oil lamps cast their glowing light. Doug sat on the right of the cushioned chair with a sigh.

"Report."

"All those holding key positions in the Walsh gang has been eliminated. The gang consists of seven key members, along with twenty-four subordinates and thirty informants. Should the survivors fail to heed the message, we can conduct a sweeping purge."

"I expect infighting and defiance as the stupid ones seek out power. Find me a capable stooge."

To establish control over these low-income areas discarded by the larger gangs, Doug followed a plan hatched from a little rural farm. Cut the head and support a puppet ruler from the shadows. The candidate must be someone who enjoyed the taste of power but feared death even more.

"Have the children reported?"

"Yes, all are accounted. Lin has the night shift with five of them accompanying him. I gave him specific instructions to keep them within our slum hideout since I suspect chaos will break out on the discovery."

Doug nodded. His first action on entering the city had been to purchase a house in the better part of the commoner's quarters. Under the guise of running an orphanage, he recruited the grateful children from the slums.

The expectations Chu had of those struggling to live day by day, bore fruit. Not only did Doug gain some diehard supporters, but he also found some experienced subordinates. Pickpocketing, stealing, scouting... these children possessed a plethora of suitable skills.

Currently, he had established outpost like the one located within the Walsh gang, deep inside the territory of the five adjacent gangs. The children roamed free under the radar of beggars and thugs, gathering information.

Through a contact, this child network spread across the city. The orphanage provides food and shelter for a price. The slum hideouts served to handle the growing numbers while keeping the children within their familiar grounds.

Every hideout had a nominated child who reported to the orphanage and receives the assignments. Copper coins passed when Doug or another member verified the task completion. Chu stressed they ran a business and not a charity.

"Lin said he wants to build a small shed over where Grandma Ann sits outside the hideout. She doesn't mind, but the sun is unbearable."

"Place a task for the elder kids in the Walsh territory to handle it. Don't forget to purchase some good clothes for her and her grandson to wear under those rags. They have helped us out considerably."

Chong added. He paused and glanced at Singh before turning to Doug. The bareback man caught their silent communication.

"Out with it?"

Doug said causing Chong to smile wryly.

"Doug, do we really need to keep mapping those old sewers? It stinks!"