Ying stepped out of the alley without making a sound and hurried toward the building's far corner. As he reached it, the shadow moved and Ying leaped high into the air, just in time. A big man with brown hair and round eyes had been expecting him. The man let out a roar and burst around the corner, swinging a large boat oar exactly where Ying's knees would have been.
The giant's mighty swing left him off balance, and Ying slammed a metal-clad fist into his jaw. The big man rocked back on his heels but must have had a chin made of iron because he shook off the blow. The man dropped the oar and dove straight at Ying.
Ying leaped into the air again, and the huge man missed him a second time. The giant landed sprawled on the ground, face-first, and Ying spun 180 degrees in the air, landing on the man's back in a sitting position. Ying wrapped his legs around the man's midsection and looped the chain whip around the man's thick neck. Ying leaned way back, cutting off the supply of air to the giant's lungs, as well as the supply of blood to his brain.
The big man thrashed wildly, clawing at the chain, but slipped into unconsciousness after just a few heartbeats.
Ying released the tension on the chain immediately. He didn't want to kill the man. He had a few questions to ask him first.
Ying unlocked his legs and was about to unwind the chain from his hands when he heard someone speak in heavily accented Mandarin Chinese.
“For a man who wears women's scarves, you fight pretty well.”
Several men laughed, and Ying looked behind him. Six men stepped out of the shadows, each holding a short qiang in one hand and a strange sword in the other. They were all round eyes.
Ying started to unwind the chain whip from his hands, but a small man at the front of the group shook his head. “Leave your shackles on, Ying. You're coming with us.”
Ying found himself being led through a maze of back alleys and side streets, his hands bound with his own chain whip. Six heavily armed round eyes surrounded him while a seventh, the giant, led the way. The giant had just returned to consciousness and was still groggy. He weaved from side to side as he walked, Ying's leather bag swinging wildly over one of his wide shoulders.
“Where are you taking me?” Ying asked the group.
The small man who had spoken to Ying earlier smiled and said, “Sorry, we no speak Chinese.”
The group laughed.
Ying bit his lip. He was fighting mad, but he knew he was in no position to do anything. He might be able to take out one or two of the round eyes, but they all had qiangs and those strange swords. The swords were long and thin like a Chinese straight sword, but curved. They had a large, wide guard over the handle to protect the user's hand. Ying had seen them before, carried by round eyes in attendance at the fight clubs. The swords were called cutlasses. Ying had always wanted to test his skills against a man with one of those. Perhaps he would have his chance yet.
They eventually stopped behind an ordinary-looking single-story building. The small round eye turned to Ying and said, “Be on your best behavior. You're about to meet your new boss.”
The small man stepped up to the back door and knocked two times, then three times, then once. The door opened, and Ying was shoved inside.
It took a moment for Ying's eyes to adjust to the room's dim light, but after blinking several times he had no doubt who he was looking at. Fu, Malao, and Seh sat at a large table, along with several adult round eyes. At the head of the table, the place of highest honor, sat Hok.
Hok frowned at Ying. “You weren't supposed to come down to the waterfront until this evening.”
“I had some business to attend to,” Ying replied.
“You made a mistake,” Hok said. “That's not like you. It's a good thing Charles’ friends found you before Tonglong's men did.”
Ying's eyes narrowed.
“Remove his mask,” Hok said to the round eyes nearest Ying. “Unwrap his chain whip, too.”
“Are you sure you want him free?” the small man asked. “He seems to be quite a skilled fighter.”
“He gave me his word that he will cooperate,” Hok said. “Do as I ask, for Charles’ sake.”
“If you think he can help Charles, then okay,” the small man said. He unwrapped the chain whip from Ying's hands, and Ying snatched it away.
The small man raised his qiang to Ying's head.
“Let him keep the chain whip,” Hok said. “Return any other weapons you may have taken from him, too.”
“But he carried a qiang,” the small man protested, “and ammunition.”
“His word is good,” Hok said. “Return them, please.”
Ying removed the silk scarf from his face himself, and one of the round eyes handed him the leather bag. Ying checked inside. Everything was as he'd left it.