Story Reader / Interlude / Dream of the Past / Story
The Nighter
>Dusk on the Nighter begins with the extended sound of a trumpet, signaling the commencement of the night bazaar.
Noises converge on the deck where the neon signs wake, while lanterns shaped as dragon heads take flight, encircling the central tower. The dazzling view of the Nighter by night rises on the dark horizon.
The stage before the tower becomes the center of the Nighter during the bazaar, where merchants come to bid in the famed Trade Fair. Folks gather for the displays, as do the rich and powerful in their loges.
Kemuri's troupe of mechanoid puppets takes the stage in a showcase of graceful sword dances. Their braids glide as phoenixes, their bodies sway as willows—mechanical yet spirited, gentle yet cold.
Their performance has also lined the crowd with dread, however. The audience is well aware that the elegant dancers onstage are always an order away from drawing blood with their swords.
And then fireworks soar above the deck, exploding into spectacular colors between the towers and the lanterns.
Earth or heaven, this is as opulent as it gets.
Beyond the Trade Fair, the night bazaar is equally bustling.
A man who just exited the loge is currently arguing with a merchant.
Is this trash what you're selling me?
A bona fide mogul, the man dressed in riches holds a smoking pipe in gold in his hand, his shirt pinned with an equally golden pocket watch. He scolds the merchant in front of him with utter disdain.
S-sorry, sir... This is all that's left. But maybe if you visit again tomorrow—
Wiping off the sweat from his brows, the merchant bends over backward to apologize to the tycoon, his head dipping as low as the rich man's boots.
Meanwhile, the surrounding hawkers flock to the wealthy man, hungry and craving.
Check out my offers, sir! Brand new livers, freshly picked—
Screw you! I'm here first, sir! Look—healthy organs in mint condition!
How about some prosthetics, sir? I've just restocked—
The hawkers are relentless, wrestling for a shot to sell their wares in exchange for miles, even if it means stepping over a fellow merchant.
Distracted by the commotion, nobody notices a boy sneakily approaching the tycoon from behind.
The boy keeps looking over his shoulder indecisively, his face filled with hesitation.
Changyu will later recall this moment when he first notices the boy while hanging in a food stall to the side.
The boy's expression is all too familiar to him.
...
Having made up his mind, the boy takes advantage of the confusion to reach for the tycoon's pocket, where a purse is poking out.
Seeing this, Changyu leaps from his seat, shoving his half-empty sour plum drink to the stall's owner.
Hold this for me, Uncle Fu!
Hey, punk, pay up—
Back in a sec! Put it on my tab!
Changyu dexterously dashes between the customers, hopping over the bench outside the stall.
Move! Move!
What the hell? Watch it!
Hey, boss! Forgetting anything?
The boy is stepping away when Changyu walks by and blows the whistle on him. While whistling.
Slightly confused at first, the wealthy tycoon pats his pockets at once—
—And finds nothing inside. The tycoon's plump face stiffens and tenses, and he immediately grabs the now panicking boy.
My purse! You rascal!
I-I don't—
Facing away from them, Changyu masterfully swoops up the purse from the boy's jacket.
Give it back now!
I don't have it!
You're dead meat if I find it!
Is this what you're looking for?
W-what? When did you—
Despite feeling confident that he has stowed it securely inside his jacket, the boy looks in shock as Changyu flaps the gemstone-clad purse in front of the two of them, giving the tycoon an upward nod.
You're so dead, you little shit!
I...
The boy attempts to bolt, not realizing Changyu has him firmly in his grasp.
The tycoon raises his arm above his head, ready to smack the boy—only to have his purse shoved into his lifted hand by Changyu, and any momentum of a strike is lost.
Calm your horses!
The night bazaar is brimming with colorful folks, my good sir. Remember to keep your hands in your pockets next time, 'cause I can't guarantee others will keep their hands in theirs, okay?
Changyu says so with a smile. Despite Changyu's frail appearance, the boy is surprised by his strength when he fails to flee from his hold.
Who the hell are you? What are you after? I've got nothing for you!
Just a concerned Kowloong citizen—and, please, you don't have to thank me! I'll leave you be. Enjoy your time here in the bazaar!
With that, Changyu drags the boy away from the scene.
What are you doing—who are you?!
The boy is so mad his eyes seem to be popping out.
Amateur.
...What?
I said, what an amateur!
Did you see the look on the tycoon's face? If this is all you've got for this line of work, you're gonna get caught. And people like them don't take kindly to it.
Why were you stealing the purse in the first place?
N-none of your damn business! If you're just thief-splaining...
Tokens. What do you know about it?
...Huh?
Changyu takes out an intricately crafted coin, tossing it into the air before catching it.
How much do you think you can take from a purse? What is this, the Golden Age? No one brings cash anymore! But that man dressed like big money, which means he would be carrying a token like this.
This token is where the money's at—identification of a member of the Chamber of Commerce. And the doors you can open with this...
See, here's your first lesson. See better.
Changyu grins like he is on top of the world, and with his arm around the boy's shoulder, he leads the stupefied young man away.
Uncle Fu, one Shacha noodles for our friend here!
Changyu sits the boy down enthusiastically.
Pay for yours first, you punk!
C'mon, Uncle Fu, I told you to put it on my tab—and here I am with a new customer!
...Just stay the hell out of my way! I'm running a business here!
See, I know you are the best!
Have you tried his Shacha noodles? Best on the Nighter, no joke.
Wait... Just who are you? What do you want from me?
Didn't I mess up your job earlier? So take this as my apology, and now we're even!
And I have to thank you as well—the way he hid his token, you really did me a solid back there, running distractions.
...
You're—
Thanks for the compliment! You're so kind. Unless that wasn't a compliment, in which case—how dare you!
Here, your noodles.
Thanks!
C'mon, try it.
Changyu prepares the noodles with a well-practiced routine, pouring the Shacha sauce into the bowl and stirring it before placing it in front of the boy.
...
The boy is determined to turn down Changyu's offering, but in the face of a hot bowl of noodle soup, he cannot help but take a large bite.
How is it?
It's... delicious!
Told ya!
Changyu crosses his legs.
I'm Changyu. You?
...Do you just tell everyone your name?
Exchanging names is common courtesy in Kowloong. You do it after the apology and the noodles.
Huainan.
Hmm. You aren't exactly dressing in rags... Ran into trouble, didn't you? Want to talk about it?
None of your damn business.
True. Who isn't in trouble on the Nighter, am I right?
I'll leave you to your noodles, then. Just remember to be more careful next time—and stay away from the stingy type with a temper.
It was a good call making a move when you did. An amateur like you won't stand a chance when Pulao's mechanoids arrive at the bazaar later tonight.
I-I know that!
Of course you do. I'll see you next time, then.
With that, Changyu finishes his sour plum drink and takes off, whistling and tossing the coin.
...
...Changyu, is it?
The boy named Huainan watches as Changyu departs, buried in thought. It takes him a moment before he returns to his bowl of Shacha noodles.
When he finishes, Huainan shoves the empty bowl aside and gets up, ready to leave.
You—stop it right there!
...Who? Me?
Obviously! You stay right there!
What's wrong?
That punk said you're paying his tab. That's one Shacha noodles and one sour plum drink. You paying with grubs or what?
...
Huainan turns to where Changyu was headed, and finds him turning around at the same time. Changyu waves and cups his hand around his mouth, and from a distance he yells—
Your second lesson—don't be so trusting!
...
...Payment code, please. How much is it?
