Incense burned softly in the tattoo shop. The young man lay prone on the bed without a word, the muscles of his upper body coiling and tightening, forming a powerful, spine-like ridge across his back—hard and beautifully defined like a dragon’s backbone.
“Relax,” the middle-aged tattoo master said. Only after the young man’s muscles gradually loosened did he lower the needle again. Blood slowly seeped from the dense pinpricks, forming a mist across the young man’s back before being wiped away with a cloth.
The curtain to the outer room was suddenly pulled aside. Another young man strode in, cigarette clenched between his teeth, sharp eyes sweeping the room like a hawk. The moment he spotted the one lying down, he spun in like a gust of wind.
“Hey! Azure Dragon! I knew you’d be here! Back to tattoo that dragon again? I say, old man, you’re way too biased! When are you going to tattoo that eagle for me?!”
The tattoo master did not even lift his head, his hands moving steadily. “When did I ever agree to tattoo an eagle for you?”
“Hey! Don’t go back on your word! We agreed—he gets a dragon, I get an eagle!”
“The Crown Prince paid. What about you?”
“You charge your own son too?! Have you no conscience, old man?!”
The young man lying on the bed, silent until now, suddenly spoke.
“A’Ying, shut up.”
A’Ying clicked his tongue, then sat down at the bedside, muttering, “Fine, fine, I’ll shut up if you say so.”
“Apologize to your father.”
A’Ying snorted, then squeezed out reluctantly, “Sorry, Dad.”
“Apologize to your dead mother!” the tattoo master snapped, then sighed and said to the man on the bed, “Only you can keep him in line, Azure Dragon.”
“What do you mean ‘keep in line,’” A’Ying grinned shamelessly, bending over beside Azure Dragon and casually taking the cigarette from his own mouth to stick it between Azure Dragon’s lips. “He’s my sworn big boss. Of course I listen to him.”
Azure Dragon frowned slightly, taking a slow drag, then raised a hand and flicked A’Ying on the forehead. A’Ying yelped theatrically, then grinned again.
“Oh right, I heard you picked up two little things yesterday? Where are they? Fun to play with?”
Azure Dragon lifted his eyes. “Over there.”
A’Ying followed his gaze—and only then noticed the two scrawny children curled in the corner of the room, sitting stiffly side by side on a bench, staring straight at them.
The girl wore a brand-new little dress, her yellowed hair shaved into a short crop. The boy had been shaved completely bald, wearing a small T-shirt and shorts, his thin limbs like sticks. His face and body were stained purple with iodine, with medicated patches stuck in places.
They were so small and still that A’Ying would never have noticed them otherwise.
“Damn! Why do they look like little ghosts? Creepy as hell!” A’Ying said, striding over casually. “What are your names? Come play with big brother.”
He reached out to pat the boy’s shaved head.
“Don’t play with them. They bite,” Azure Dragon said.
Before he even finished, A’Ying howled.
“AH—! It hurts! Let go! Let go!”
He pried the boy’s jaw open, pulling his hand free, blood pouring from it. He raised his hand to strike the boy—but the boy glared at him viciously, letting out a low, feral growl like a wolf cub. The girl lunged at him, clawing his face.
A’Ying retreated immediately, sprinting back to Azure Dragon. “Did you pick up kids or rabid puppies?!”
Azure Dragon flipped his hand over to show the bite mark at the web between his thumb and forefinger. “Last night, when I shaved their heads for lice, he bit me.”
“He dared bite even you?!” A’Ying snapped, turning to curse them, “Ungrateful little brats!”
Soon, the tattoo master set aside his tools. “That’s enough for today. One more session and it’ll be done. Same as before—don’t bathe tonight.”
“Thank you, Uncle Feng.”
Azure Dragon sat up, pulling on a shirt loosely over his shoulders. After thanking the master, he left. A’Ying swaggered after him. Only once they were far enough did he throw an arm around Azure Dragon’s shoulders.
“The guys from Qun Ying Society smashed our stall in Tong Gu Alley yesterday. Uncle Ge wants to lure their boss to Chun Hua Restaurant for ‘negotiations’ and kill him at the table. Tomorrow night at eight. You going?”
“Not in front of the kids,” Azure Dragon said, glancing down.
Only then did A’Ying realize the two children were trailing closely behind.
“Damn, I forgot—you’ve got kids now! Dragon Daddy!” He waved at them. “Go on, adults are talking.”
The two children didn’t move. The boy even growled low again, ready to bite.
“Don’t think I won’t hit you. I can kick you like a stray dog,” A’Ying warned.
“Why argue with children?” Azure Dragon sighed, then crouched slightly and spoke gently, “Be good. Go wait in the car.”
The boy didn’t respond, still glaring. The girl, however, quietly took his hand and led him toward a car nearby.
Azure Dragon watched them climb in before turning slightly to Xu Ying.
“Does my father know about this?”
“Of course he does. You think Uncle Ge would dare decide something like this himself?”
Azure Dragon lit a cigarette, took a few drags, then handed it to A’Ying. After a pause, he said, “My father wants me to do legitimate business. If I go, he’ll be furious.”
“What legitimate business is there in Gaau Lung Walled City? You, a Crown Prince, guarding vegetable stalls? Selling radishes for pennies? You’re the son of the Xiao Qi Hall leader, not some tofu vendor. Your dad’s gone soft—don’t follow him. Look at other gangs—every boss fought their way up. If you don’t make a name for yourself, how will that bunch of old guys—Uncle Yuan and Uncle Ge and the rest—ever respect you?”
Azure Dragon frowned. “Uncle Yuan and Uncle Ge are only in their thirties. My father is only forty-five. Don’t call them old in front of him—I won’t be able to save you if he gets angry.”
“Alright, alright, I know you care about me,” A’Ying laughed, hanging off him. “So are you going tomorrow?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“If you don’t go, I’ll go myself. If I get hacked to death, don’t cry.”
“Shut your cursed mouth.” Azure Dragon flicked his forehead again and walked off.
He got into the car.
“Where to, Young Master?” the driver asked.
“Home.”
Sitting in the passenger seat, he smoked in silence. The car wound its way out of Gaau Lung Walled City toward a nearby village house.
It was a modest two-story home—but the most luxurious place Azure Dragon had ever lived in.
Two years ago, at nineteen, he had been just another street thug. His father, Hao Wei, was also a thug, and the two of them survived by collecting loan shark debts. Together with his mother, they lived in a cramped rented room.
Then his mother fell gravely ill. Their savings were quickly exhausted. His father disappeared for a month—supposedly to Thailand to borrow money—and returned with a large sum. She underwent surgery, but still died of complications.
With the remaining money, his father bought this house, cars, hired servants—and Azure Dragon became a “young master.”
His father gathered men, established Xiao Qi Hall, and declared himself the leader.
Azure Dragon became the Crown Prince.
Yet his father forbade him from getting too involved in gang affairs, assigning him only a few market stalls. Though Azure Dragon managed them well, they were still just stalls.
A’Ying, ambitious, constantly urged him to fight and build his reputation.
Should he defy his father?
Lost in thought, the car arrived home.
Only after stepping out did he remember the two children.
He had rescued them the day before. In an alley, a drug addict had been beating the boy savagely while the girl cried and tried to intervene. Azure Dragon had saved them, beaten the man, and taken the children for cake—since it was Children’s Day.
They refused to speak of their names or home.
Now, as they held his hands and followed him inside, the boy clutched the same hand he had bitten earlier, glancing at it with guilt.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Azure Dragon said gently. “But don’t bite again.”
In the bathroom, he handed them towels. “Wash yourselves.”
To the girl, he added, “You’re the older one, right? Watch your brother.”
“Xiao Man,” she said softly.
“My name is Xiao Man. He’s A’Hao.”
“I’m not A’Hao!” the boy suddenly shouted. “He gave me that name! I don’t want it!”
Azure Draon crouched down. “Then what do you want to be called?”
“Cake,” the boy said firmly.
“…What?”
“The thing we ate yesterday. Cake. That’s good. I want that.”
“…This kid might be a little slow.”
Suppressing a smile, Azure Dragon reached out to touch his head. The boy bared his teeth—but seeing the bite mark, hesitated, then tremblingly leaned into his hand.
“How old are you?”
“…Ten,” Xiao Man answered for him. “I’m twelve.”
They looked no older than five or six.
“Where are your parents?”
Silence. Fear.
Then, suddenly—
Azure Dragon noticed something.
The boy had pulled down his trousers halfway. Between his pale thighs were dark bruises—too deep, too close to be from beating.
Azure Dragon rushed forward, examining him. The boy screamed, clawing him. The girl struck him with a stool.
He endured it, checking quickly—no tearing, but clear signs of abuse.
His voice turned deadly cold.
“…Who did this?”
Minutes later, he walked out expressionless.
“Take care of the children,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.”
Twenty minutes later, he kicked open the door upstairs in the tattoo shop.
A’Ying jumped up, knife in hand.
“A’Ying.”
“…Damn, it’s you. What’s with the knife? Who are we killing?”
Azure Dragon’s voice was cold.
“Are we brothers?”
“Of course.”
“I’m going to kill someone. Are you coming?”
“Coming!!”
Futile Devices Scans 
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