On the west side of Savagery sat a motel called The Runhouse. Its claim to fame was that the infamous drug lord, Garreth Helpheim, was shot and killed there by a crime fighter that never came forward to claim the glory of his kill. Helpheim was more commonly referred to as Two Tons when he was alive for the supposed amount of drugs he had managed to smuggle into the city in an impressively short amount of time. Many suspect Helpheim wasn’t executed by a crime fighter at all, but by the owner of the motel, Noel North. Yang Liu knew that the truth of the matter was that in some ways, everyone was right. Noel North was the one to kill Helpheim and he was far more than just the owner of a small, dirty motel, that in his prime he had been Black Jade’s partner. That is why Yang Liu felt perfectly comfortable leaving Mrs. Rokanovic seemingly unsupervised in a room inside The Runhouse while he returned to his grandmother’s underground apartment.

A mixture of tantalizing aromas overwhelmed his nostrils, in the best way possible, as soon as Yang Liu opened the door to the apartment. The most delicious being that of a roast duck. He closed and leaned against the door just long enough to appreciate the food in the other room then removed his forest green mask from his face.

“Luey, is that you?” He and his brother had never quite fully developed an Asian accent, but his grandmother’s was thick. While Yang Liu and Yang Bo were both fascinated in western culture, their grandmother had stayed true to her roots. She not so quietly disapproved of the boy’s obsessive interest in western culture.

“Yes, nai nai, it’s me.”

“Good, good. Come to the kitchen.”

He locked the door before heading across the perfectly kept living space to the criminally undersized kitchen. Yang Daiyu was standing in front of her white stove, its surface immaculately clean, stirring the soup for her famous hot pot. She looked at him, laughed. He knew she was laughing at the spandex suit. Black Jade never wore a spandex suit of any kind. No mask. No cape. Nothing but a black, leather jacket and pants. He had tried on several occasions to explain that her attire was not all that different from his own, but Black Jade was anything but agreeable.

“How did it go, Luey?”

“No hiccups. But I don’t feel good about leaving the little dragon with Rokanovic.”

Yang Daiyu gave a dismissive wave and screwed up her face like she always did when she didn’t agree with something she had heard. She dipped a wooden spoon into the soup pot and brought out a small sample. She blew on it carefully then dumped it into her mouth. “Perfect.”

“As always,” said Yang Liu with enough subtlety not to bring his grandmother’s feisty backlash down on him.

His grandmother wiped her hands on her maroon apron. The one Yang Bo had bought her a few years back. It had a long, winding dragon embroidered on the chest. “And you managed to get the woman? Yelena.”

“I did.” He thought about Mrs. Rokanovic sitting in The Rundown. What kind of plans was a dangerous woman like her devising? Or was she simply enjoying some time away from her typical lifestyle? Before he had left her at the motel the two had sat and talked for quite some time. He explained how he had been able to find out about her affair with Rubin Davore, Bloodbath as he was known by most. She had given him a few more valuable lessons about how the city of Savagery functioned. Her insights into how the inner cogs was invaluable. How some grinded against one another like rusted old machines and how others were constantly being lubricated by someone in some way. The way she spoke so casually and freely with him made him wonder if she was truly a criminal at heart or just a victim of circumstance.

“You took her to The Runhouse?”

“Yes.” This was their routine. His grandmother would concoct a plan for her grandsons, they would implement said plan, then she would check off the to-do list when they returned. Every time. Despite the fact that Yang Liu had never once let a mission go awry.

Yang Diayu smiled at him briefly. If he had not known to be looking for it, he would have missed it. The ever-missing words of pride and approval were all wrapped up in that small smile. He would have loved to hear them said out loud, but the smile had become adequate over the years.

“Good. Now come here.” She waved him to the stove. As he approached she pointed into the pot. “Look at it. See how it looks when it simmers. I won’t be here to cook for you boys forever, you know.” Yang Liu leaned in to look at the soup, like he had a hundred times before. Only this time, when he was vulnerable, his grandmother hit him on the head with her spoon. He jumped away from her and the stove and rubbed his head. “You know better than to turn off your earpieces!”

“Nai nai! I wanted Bo to feel comfortable. Like it was a normal mission. He would have never gone into that factory if he had known I was going to hand him over to the Iron Crew. And I know… you would have told him.”

“No, no, no. You know better, Luey. You know better. The earpieces stay on at all times.”

“Fine.” He was still rubbing the back of his head but managed a playful smile at his grandmother. She didn’t smile back. Nor did she frown though.

“Take the duck to the table, you mischievous heathen,” Yang Daiyu said.

It was strange sitting down for dinner without his brother. The three of them had become so close that the only time they weren’t together was when the brothers were patrolling the streets. A fact made more noticeable given his grandmother had still cooked enough food for three. If not more. He didn’t mention it though. According to the woman, cooking had always been her way of relieving stress. She would fight crime late into the night, come home and cook well into the morning, clearing her head and planning her next moves. Oftentimes, trying to forget the things she had done that night, many nights. The fact that they were eating dinner only a few hours before sunrise, would be odd to most, but to them, it was normalcy.

“How is the woman?” asked his grandmother as she placed the hot pot in the middle of the table. A variety of other foods surrounded it. She began serving Yang Liu a healthy portion of each.

He fought back an uncomfortable frown. He had hoped to avoid this conversation until at least after dinner.

The old woman was studying him thoroughly. Though, it would not have taken much effort to see something was bothering him. “What is it, Luey?” She didn’t even need to look at him to press upon him her forceful demand that he tell her what was troubling him.

“She wants to see you. Says she won’t help unless she does.”

As if she had not heard Yang Liu, she said, “How much duck?” She sliced into the meat.

“Nai nai.” She looked at him. “Did you hear me?”

“Of course, I heard you,” she snapped. “Now how much? I didn’t roast this duck to not eat it just because Yelena Rokanovic wants to see me.” She placed some of the duck on his plate.

“A little more,” he said bashfully.

When she was satisfied with the mountain of food on Yang Liu’s plate, his grandmother sat down caddy corner from him in her typical spot at the square table. They said a small prayer to their gods for Yang Bo, then ate in silence as both pondered their own concerns. He knew better than to disturb his grandmother while she organized her thoughts. To do so would bring the spook back around. Or worse.

Yang Liu took after his grandmother in many ways. He did not have the same prickly exterior, but he was a thinker, a planner, just like her. He too enjoyed peace and quiet to calculate his own plans. On most nights, he would already be a third of the way through his food and halfway through a plan, but tonight, his mind kept drifting back to Mrs. Rokanovic. She was a smooth customer. Confident and charismatic. She had a way of establishing herself as the most capable and well-informed person in the room. Not unlike his grandmother. And the similarities didn’t stop there. Mrs. Rokanovic had been stubborn as a mule during their conversation at the motel. To the point that it had ended prematurely when Yang Liu had refused to let her meet with Black Jade. He had been careful not to let on that he was related to the infamous crime fighter. That was a given in crime fighting. Never willingly provide the identity of a family member. He thought about Yang Bo during his discussion with Rokanovic. He had broken the rule once that night, he wouldn’t do it again. The last thing Mrs. Rokanovic had said to him were strict instructions to return when he was feeling more flexible and reasonable. He had let out a long breath of relief upon stepping out of the ratty motel room. Yet, he wanted to return. He wanted to be in her presence again as soon as possible.

“You’re sure she will not try to flee the motel?” asked his grandmother. Her sharp tone stirred him from his own thoughts.

He finished chewing the bite of duck he had taken a moment before and said, “She won’t flee. You said yourself, Noel will keep an eye on her. Besides, the Rokanovic’s are good for their word.” He had no idea if that was true or not, but the way Mrs. Rokanovic had said it had made it seem so uninformed to think otherwise.

“Careful trusting someone who makes a living dishonestly, Luey. They know you’re a crime fighter. And now they know you’re in cahoots with a legend.” The old woman smiled slyly. “And Noel can be bought. He was always willing to do whatever was asked of him to make a few dollars. If she wants out of there bad enough, Luey will carry her out himself.”

“Nai nai, I know better than to think they don’t have something up their sleeves, but she wants to see you almost as badly as I want to find Bloodbath.”

“Yes, yes. Bloodbath. I don’t understand why you are going after that man. He’s dangerous. Too dangerous for you.” She shook her head disapprovingly. Yang Liu hated when his grandmother claimed he was incapable of something. He took it as a personal challenge to prove her wrong. A bad habit, he had to admit, but one he couldn’t shake. “And Yelena doesn’t want to speak with me. She wants me dead.”

“Bloodbath has father’s knife. And I’m going to get it back.”

“Ahh. That knife. What is your obsession with that knife? How many times have I told you that that thing is not what your father claimed?”

He wanted to snap at her for suggesting his father may have lied or exaggerated the truth but he’d never. His elders were to be treated with respect. A good habit he couldn’t seem to shake. He looked at his food. “All I know is she will sit tight until I return.” He paused. “With you.”

“Yes.” The quick response. The cooperation. It surprised Yang Liu. She continued, “But I decide when and how we go about it.”

There was no desire whatsoever to push his luck. “Fine.” He shoved a particularly plump dumpling into his mouth.