[OOC] To my players, this is where we will post for the mission [OOC]
[Prologue]
The Birth of the Red Dragon.
It all began on a quiet, autumn night, in the busy streets of Chinatown. The last five years had been especially bad for the Sino-community. A certain number of police officers, corrupted to the bone has established a “protection” racket which had taken ampler at a terrifying speed.
The Lone Star officers, by the number of 9, were quickly nicknamed “黑爪”, Hei Zhua, the “Black Claw”. They weren’t really bad individuals, the situation in Seattle for the law enforcers had broken most idealist who believed that values could hold their own against the almighty Nuyen. And so those 9 men, slowly saw their dream of justice fade away, on a daily basis, until it vanished and was gone forever. Lost, they left the right path for a different one, a more lucrative one.
Resistance was non-existent in Little China. The four families who pretty much controlled what happened in their realm had reached a point of “no return” state of passivity. They were much too busy enjoying life to lift a finger to make it any better.
One must understand that Chinatown was a city of it’s own, with it’s own rules. “What happens in Chinatown, stays in Chinatown.” Poverty had become a blatant critical crisis and Chinese could often be seen gnawing at some leftover bone from an errant dog or cat. Rumors of cannibalism in certain part of town kept most cautious citizens behind locked doors as the sun was setting. Chinatown had seen it’s share of dismayed mothers wandering down the dirty streets screaming their children’s name in vain, only answered by the echoes of their voices.
How had things turned so bad? Why wouldn't anyone do something? BLT (“Better Than Life”) chips could be blamed. The chip junkies were spreading like a nasty virus and most of them had just given up on real life and it’s inconsistencies.
And so, it is in this grim setting, that on a quiet autumn night, as a midnight wind was carelessly blowing leaves of fading colors, a couple of young Sino-Elves were walking back to their humble firework store. They weren’t good or bad, just human, although they were respected in their community. After many years or dealing with the ordeals of Little China, they were still very much in love. They were striding down ruined streets, under a sky long covered with toxic clouds, but they would not notice. Only their love mattered, nothing else but their love.
Respect, as all things in this world, would not be earned without any reason. 例会，Li Hui, the man and father, was a stubborn idealist. His friends and family could not understand his determination to believe into things which they could not see. Li Hui was one of those determined soul who listen to no one but his own words for a very good reason, he had an excellent judgment. He somehow managed to make the best decision no matter what, no matter the options.
But Li Hui’s luck had run out. His flawless judgment had been dented a few weeks ago when he refused to pay two rather imposing law officers who came for their weekly deposit. He refused categorically, “不是” he said… “No.” No threats, no insult would move him for he had the patience of a mountain no vicious winds or harmful gale could shake his determination.
What could also be said about Li Hui was that he was quite traditional. He had mastered Kung Fu long ago and had once displayed prowess in the style of the “虎爪子”. Sure enough his skills weren’t as sharp as in is youth, but his reflexes were still astounding and his lean muscular body could still deliver devastating blows, should such violence be ever required.
And so, following his refusal, the two men were none too pleased. Although pacific, there were certain things which turned the wise Li Hui into a raging demon. He was quite protective of his wife, 流弹。One of the officer, a burly middle aged man, furious with the unexpected refusal, decided it would be fitting to display his anger by spitting his body fluids in Liu Dan’s face. And so he did, smiling at his mischief like a misbehaved kid. Both men left the simple store, but did not go far. Li Hui had been angered. His tolerance had failed, and his whole being was resounding with the murderous anger.
Focusing his “Chi”, like his ancestors for more generations that man could fathom had dibe, he practiced his art, the art of fighting to the greatest and most furious of abilities. His movements flowed like a vengeful tsunami, unstoppable and deadly like the bolts of a storm. They could’ve fought, had they ever had the time. But Li Hui had become something beyond man and his will bended the very rules of physics as he struck down the offenders.
Two men died on that day, and no one in Chinatown shed one tear on that night. Their body were never found, and we can presume that none of the Chinese, so hungry as they were, tasted their foul flesh.
Li Hui had fought for something he believed in, he had been driven by the searing flame of his convictions, but little did he know that flame of his conviction would drown his world in an ocean of hellish blaze.
On that quiet Autumn night, a Lone Star patrol car had been following the couple from the market. On that night, as the couple entered Li Hui’s famous shortcut, a rather dark and deserted alley, the car followed, slowly, creeping in, like the shadows of the moon. On that night, as full moonlight bathed the couple, the car stopped and two men got out and walked to the couple. They did not talk, they merely flexed their muscles and grabbed our hero by surprise.
None but Li Hui and the silent moon know what happened on that night. On that otherwise peaceful night, the two officer, which happened to be good friends of Li Hui’s victims, took their time to ruin a work of art, Liu Dan’s beautiful physique. They did it with the attention and care of professional, ignoring scream, pleas for help or even the tears of the innocent. With a mono-whip they scarred her face and with a knife they severed her head. One man kissed the dead lifeless lips and after pounding the flesh of a man who had lost it’s most treasure possession, they left him for dead, both in and out, under the gaze of a silent moon.
But Life acts in mysterious ways sometimes and Li Hui did not die on that night. His heart kept on beating, but he had died in some other way. His patient and kind self had vanished with the life of his love and he had been reborn into something too scary to describe. His appearance was the same, but something inside of him had been born on that night, something from a world of nightmare, a being of hate, pure, crystalline hate, untainted by anything good. From that day on, Li Hui would be a stranger to both Compassion and Justice.
How does the tale end then? In the next weeks, Lone Star patrol cars mysteriously disappeared in Chinatown. It got to the point where no man who belonged to put one foot into it’s dreaded street. The Chinese had a new hero, invisible and deadly. They called him “气的赤龙”, Qi De Chi Long, the “Wrath of the Red Dragon”…