The Face: Tournament of Death, Chapter Seven

[Chinese dialogue dubbed to English]

“Ah, cousin!” Billy greeted his cousin. “Glad you could make it! I hear you are going to kick some Shran-butt! That’s great to hear!” Samuel nodded in agreement. “It almost looks like you wouldn’t need me…after that display,” He replied in the Chinese dialect pointing backward to where the fight had taken place. “Oh that?” Billy asked. “That was nothing compared to Shran’s men…” he continued, head lowered in despair. His head immediately revitalized and shook off the gloom. “Hey, why don’t you come and drop your stuff at our house? Yeah, then I can take you to where your other cousins work!” Billy suggested. Samuel’s face lightened. “Sure,” he acquiesced, nodding.

Billy led the two to a small bungalow in front of a small rainforest area that led to a bubbling creek behind. A young, Asian woman, wearing a small pink robe was awaiting them. “Billy, you’re back! I see you brought your cousin…” She greeted, shyly. Billy walked up to the lady. “Yeah, this is Samuel Lee Kim, he’s come to enter the Tournament,” he said. The young lady held her hands folded behind her back and swayed her head back and forth in timidity, eyeing the newcomer. “This is Mina,” Billy told Sam. “She’s the youngest sister of my two friends, Cho and Weng. They live with us.” A small boy then popped up from the bushes, investigating the new arrival like a shiny new toy. Samuel looked down toward his knees to see the boy circling him. “Ah, this is Mina’s youngest brother, Shin. Outsiders interest him,” Billy said. “Come on, I’ll show you inside.”

Samuel entered what he found to be a primitively built, small, wooden home that could fit no more than three people in U.S. standards. There were no beds anywhere, but small blankets laid out on the floor with tiny nets hung over each, to keep pesky insects away at night. The only furniture was devastatingly small, which included an assortment of stools, tables and small desks for candles. It did not even seem that they had any electricity around. Samuel Lee Kim had forgotten what he had left behind when he went to the United States to live. “How many people live in here?” Sam asked. Billy looked up, as if he were trying to look into his brain for the answer. “Let’s see two..three… ah yes, about ten of us live here. With you, that’s eleven in all.” Samuel was taken aback at the vast array of inhabitants.

Billy led Sam to one of the corners of the three-room house. In that corner were a small brown blanket, a tiny pillow, and a mosquito net laid upon the floor. “You’ll be bunking here,” Billy said. “Hope you didn’t pack too much,” he said, introducing him to the confined space. Sam set down his two pieces of luggage and turned to Billy. “Alright, let’s go to the icebox factory to see your cousins,” Billy spoke.

Samuel Lee Kim flew back in time as he approached the great icebox factory that was placed before him. A group of workers were busily shaving, and pushing large pieces of box-shaped ice cubes down a small shaft that led into a wooden building next to it. “Wow,” he said, feeling like he was a being from the future. “Unbelievable.”

Meanwhile, three young Chinese men looked up from their posts and recognized Billy Tien. “Billy? Is that the ol’ bugger over there? The one who’s gonna take down Shran?” One asked. Billy nodded. “Our hero is here,” Billy said, pointing to Samuel. Excited and joyous shots came from the three boys as they sprinted to meet him. Upon approach, each shook hands with the valiant fighter. Billy introduced each one. “These two right here…” he began, pointing to a rather large Chinese man with long bangs, and another scrawnier, taller one, with a double chin. “These two are your cousins, Lei and Fai.” “Hey,” Lei said, in his thick voice. “Hello,” Fai soon followed, with his low, dumb-like tone. Billy pointed to the third figure and said, “This is Chen, he’s a friend of ours.” Chen greeted Sam smiling, using both hands as if he had met some sort of celebrity.

Out from the back of the factory came yet another Chinese man, whose eyes widened in recognition. He too came running forward to Billy. “Ah Sam, this is your other cousin, Dewei. He’s a bit of a clumsy one.” Dewei stumbled as he reached the group, and slapped Sam on the back in greeting.

Just then, a tubby man came round with paper in hand. “Get to back to work you all!” He yelled gruffly, waving his hand. Billy turned to Sam. “Looks like we have to work, Sam. You can go back to the house if you want,” he explained. However, Sam did not turn to leave. “No, I want to help,” he said. “It is only fair for me. I mean, what else will I do? I want to spend time with my cousins before leaving,” he said. Two men then came from the back of the factory as well. Billy noticed them. “Ah Cho, Weng! Where have you been?” He wondered. “The bathroom,” Cho explained. Samuel’s attention was grabbed. “Ah, where is the bathroom? I need to go…” he said. Weng walked toward them, zipping his pants. “There’s a great tree back there where no one will notice you left your mark…” he explained. Samuel raised his brow. “I think I’ll wait…”

“Get to work!” The gruff voice called again. Billy and co. went back to work, while Sam approached the foreman. “Excuse me, I’d like to help. What can I do?” The foreman eyed his slim physique disapprovingly. “You’re too scrawny to haul ice, why don’t you scrub the floors and be of some good use,” he told him. Samuel did not comply. “I would really like to be near my cousins,” he asked of him. The foreman stopped in his tracks and turned his head rather annoyed. “Go scrub the floors,” he demanded, pushing his arm against Sam’s shoulder. However, to the foreman’s surprise, Sam would not budge. He pushed harder…still the resolute Samuel Lee Kim did not move an inch. “Alright then,” the foreman finally conceded. “Go up to the platform over there and slide the ice cubes into that building,” he instructed. So Samuel Lee Kim darted over to where his cousins were.

Cho and Weng were busy using every ounce of energy to move the huge, massive pieces of ice down the declining shaft. Samuel Kim intervened with a helping hand. “Let me,” he said, grabbing hold of the cube. He then slid it to the shaft, and pushed it with force downward. Unfortunately, the wooden rail was not strong enough and the block of ice crashed through it, tumbling downward and shattering to pieces. “Sorry, that was my fault,” Sam apologized. Cho and Weng went down the steps to retrieve the broken cube. Upon approach they found something peculiar lying upon the ground. It was small sandwich bag filled with a white, chalky powder inside. Cho picked it up and they both examined it. “What’s this?” Weng wondered.

Suddenly, one of the higher-ranking workers, wearing a blue, flappy hat came upon them. “Get away from that!” He said aggressively, swiping the bag from them. He shoved them out of the way and put the bag into his pocket. “Get back to work!” He yelled. Samuel Lee Kim came down to set things straight. “I’m sorry, it was my fault, I dropped the cube…” but before he could finish, he was struck in the face with great force from the outraged man, yet he did not flinch; he was only surprised at the hostility.

Lei came to the scene, furious. “Hey what did you do that for? He’s new here, he didn’t deserve that!” He yelled, shaking his fist at the flappy-hatted man. “Get back to work!” The man said, hurriedly scurrying towards the manager’s hut.

Hours had passed, and finally it was near nightfall, and the men were ready to leave for home. As the eight brothers, cousin, and friends headed back, two of them were stopped by the foreman. They were Cho and Weng. The foreman put a hand in front of Cho, halting him to a stop. “Hey,” he said. “The manager wants to see you,” he explained to them. “He must discuss with you a very important matter…” he said suspiciously. “Okay!” the two men agreed, nodding excitedly. They then walked toward the manager’s hut.

Upon entering, they beheld before them a luxurious office filled with exotic plants, houseware, and envious furniture. The two glanced around in awe at the rich color and opulence that they were witnessing. Just then, the manager, with hair reaching to about his neck, entered from a lit room. He wore a light blue kung-fu outfit, and smoked small pipe. “Ah, gentleman, I’m glad you are here. Please, sit down.”

Cho and Weng sat down in two small stools, looked at each other, than looked into the face of their authority. The manager took a breath from his pipe, then blew a shroud of musty mist into the air before him. “It has come to my attention that a small incident occurred today involving the rupture of a passing product…” he informed them. “Yes, we are sorry about that, sir,” Weng apologized.

The manager pulled his feet up and rested them upon the table before him. “Oh, it is no worry, my friends…so long as it doesn’t happen again,” he explained. Cho and Weng looked at each and nodded in agreement. “Yes, yes. It won’t happen again.” Thinking things squared away, they got up in preparation to leave.

“Wait a second,” the manager interrupted, his feet now upon the ground, but still sitting. “I have an offer to make…” he explained. He pulled out 2000 yen from his pocket and brandished it in front of each of them. “1000 yen for each of you, so long as you keep your mouths closed about this whole affair.” He pulled out 2000 more yen from his other pocket as well. “However, we would also like to congratulate you with a promotion. A promotion…into the ‘inside’ of our business…” he said, smirking.

The two men looked at each other in judgment, and came to a decision. “No thank you sir, you can trust us. We won’t say a word,” Weng said sincerely. “It just wouldn’t feel right for us to be taking your money either. We would just like to get back to our old posts,” Cho added. The manager tapped his fingers together lightly, still puffing his pipe. “Very well then…it’s a pity, really.” He then dismissed them, while watching them exit his hut.

He proceeded to follow them out the door as they passed by some rather large shrubbery. The manager then cast his pipe into the plants, which followed with an adequate response. Five men emerged from the shrouding plants, one of them being the flappy hatted man. A small knife could be seen interlocked between his palm and his fingers…

“Well, how ‘bout that?” Cho said to Weng. “Do you think we should tell anyone?” Weng asked. Cho stopped his walk and thought for a moment. “Maybe we should keep this to ourselves for right now,” he said. As they took a step to continue, a sound of rattling leaves and footsteps startled them. The two looked back. “Hello?” Cho yelled out in warning.

Thinking it nothing, they turned around to continue home…but were stopped. The five men had emerged before them stealthily, each one folding their arms or holding some intimidating stance. “Did we forget something? Hey wait…I think that’s my knife,” Cho said as he reached for it, but his face was quickly met with a heavy hit in the nose, his face cast crushingly backward. “Cho!” Weng cried, grabbing his brother. “Scoundrels! What are you doing!?” He wondered, ignorantly. The flappy-hatted man, pounded his knife-possessing fist in his other hand. “As if you didn’t know…” he said starkly. The four other men subdued the two workers. The flap-hatted man then proceeded to slash at the helpless young co-workers with aggressive force, slashing into Weng’s chest like the skin of a small turkey. It ruptured openly, leaking red fluids that soaked through Weng’s damp, white shirt. He could feel it piercing his skin and rip through his internal organs, as the vision in his eyes began to falter…and soon became lifeless.

“Weng!” Cho cried. “You’ll pay!” He yelled, swiping at the attacker. The murderer easily avoided the blow, and struck the assailant’s unprotected face, repeatedly stabbing it, gouging the eyes, nose, and mouth, blood trickling onto the ground. A loud cry could be heard as the final blow was landed in the forehead, and he fell to the ground.

Silence brewed as the crickets chirped during the night, and two lifeless bodies stood before the co-conspiring killers. “Get rid of the bodies…” the leader said. And the four men dragged the two dead brothers away…