Chapter 22: The Mysterious Big Boss
The air in the city lord's building was thick with the scent of incense and the faint metallic tang of polished stone. The halls were vast, their high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of dragons and phoenixes, their eyes seemingly following Mariko as she walked. The floors were made of smooth, dark wood, polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting the flickering light of the lanterns that lined the walls. The building was a labyrinth of corridors, each one leading to a new mystery, a new power play. Mariko had been here many times before, but tonight felt different. Tonight, the weight of her mission pressed heavily on her shoulders, and the air seemed to hum with anticipation.
She ascended a grand staircase, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone steps. The staircase was wide, its banisters carved with scenes of ancient battles, the figures of warriors and spirits locked in eternal combat. The walls were lined with tapestries, their colors rich and vibrant, depicting the history of Daiyo—its rise from a small trading post to a bustling city-state, independent and proud. Mariko's eyes flicked over the tapestries as she climbed, her mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead.
At the top of the staircase, the corridor stretched out before her, lined with doors of dark wood, each one marked with a different symbol. The symbols were ancient, their meanings known only to a select few. Mariko's destination was at the end of the hall, a door that stood apart from the others. It was larger, more ornate, with a symbol carved into its surface that seemed to pulse with a faint, otherworldly light. The symbol was that of a serpent coiled around a lotus flower, its eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
The goons who had accompanied her up the stairs stopped a few paces behind her, their faces impassive. They were large men, their muscles bulging beneath their simple tunics, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. They said nothing as Mariko approached the door, their presence a silent reminder of the power that lay beyond it.
Mariko raised her hand and knocked on the door, the sound sharp and clear in the stillness of the corridor. For a moment, there was no response. Then, a voice came from within, low and resonant, like the rumble of distant thunder.
"Enter."
Mariko pushed the door open and stepped inside, the goons remaining outside, their eyes fixed on the floor. The room beyond was vast, its walls lined with shelves that held ancient scrolls and artifacts, their surfaces gleaming in the light of the lanterns that hung from the ceiling. The floor was covered in a thick, plush carpet, its patterns intricate and swirling, like the currents of a river. In the center of the room stood a single table, its surface polished to a mirror-like sheen. Atop the table, seated in the lotus position, was a figure cloaked in dark robes, their face hidden beneath a hood.
The figure exuded an aura of power, a palpable energy that seemed to fill the room. Mariko could feel it pressing against her skin, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She took a step forward, her eyes flicking to the corner of the room where Boss Shen stood, his massive frame leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His scarred face was unreadable, his dark eyes fixed on her.
"How goes the plan to exploit the Shuji Clan?" Shen asked immediately, his voice low and gravelly.
Mariko didn't answer him right away. Instead, she turned to the figure on the table, her head bowing slightly in respect. "Master," she began, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "When did you return?"
The figure didn't answer for a moment, their hooded head tilting slightly as if considering her question. Then, in a voice that was both soft and commanding, they said, "Answer Shen."
Mariko turned back to Boss Shen, her expression calm but her mind racing. "It is him," she said, her voice firm. "He really is the brother of Renji. From what I could tell, and from his reactions, he's not really in the know with the clan. Maybe an outcast."
Shen's eyes narrowed, his scarred face twisting into a frown. "Well, we need their influence with the southwestern kingdoms," he said, his voice tinged with urgency. "There's news of a powerful spirit leading a small kingdom to grow in size, and it's only a matter of time until they come here to Daiyo."
The figure on the table shifted slightly, their robes rustling softly. "The rumors are true," they said, their voice echoing in the room. "I have seen it myself. We need powerful allies to keep Daiyo as independent as it is."
"Of course, Master," Shen said, his voice deferential. He turned back to Mariko, his expression hardening. "The messenger to the Shuji Clan should reach them by tomorrow morning."
Mariko nodded. "Well, it's only midday today, so he must be fast to travel that distance that quickly," she commented, her tone neutral.
"Good," the figure on the table said, their voice final. "Now leave me be."
Mariko and Shen bowed slightly before turning and leaving the room, the door closing softly behind them. The corridor outside was silent, the only sound the faint rustling of the tapestries as they walked. Shen's footsteps were heavy, his boots thudding against the wooden floor, while Mariko's were light and almost silent, like a cat stalking its prey.
As they reached the top of the staircase, Shen stopped and turned to her, his massive frame blocking her path. "You know," he began, his voice low and measured, "when you came to me, having run away from your kingdom and wanting to work at the casino, I didn't think you were this capable. A princess working as a waitress in a casino." He paused, his scarred face twisting into a smirk. "As I say it out loud, I don't even believe my own words. It just doesn't make any sense, even for me."
Mariko raised an eyebrow, her expression calm but her eyes sharp. "Is there a point to this, Shen?" she asked, her voice cool.
Shen's smirk faded, replaced by a look of seriousness. "You know the Big Boss is a powerful figure who has kept Daiyo safe from invaders for decades and decades," he said, his voice low and intense. "Trying to pull one over on him is not the same thing as attempting it on someone like me. As in, you know what I will do to you if you mess this up. The difference is, you don't know what he will do to you, and trust me when I tell you, you do not want to know." His voice trailed off, his eyes distant, as if remembering something terrible.
Mariko's expression didn't change, but she could feel the weight of his words. Shen was not a man who scared easily, and if he was warning her about the Big Boss, then she knew the stakes were higher than she had realized.
"So I'll ask you this once, Mariko," Shen continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "What exactly are you up to?"
There was a long moment of silence as Mariko simply looked at him, her eyes unreadable. Then, she took a step closer to him, her movements slow and deliberate. She noticed his eyes drift from her face down to her cleavage, down to her breasts that rose and fell with every breath she took. She smiled, a small, knowing smile, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her level.
"Don't fuck with my business," she whispered in his ear, her voice soft but laced with steel, "and we won't have to worry about that. You might even get to see them"—she paused, her breath warm against his ear—"if you just mind your own business. All you have to do is ask."
She let him go and stepped back, her smile widening as she saw the flush in his cheeks. Without another word, she turned and walked down the staircase, her hips swaying slightly as she went. Shen watched her go, his expression a mix of frustration and admiration. He shook his head and muttered something under his breath before turning and heading in the opposite direction.
---
Mariko stepped out of the city lord's building and into the bustling streets of Daiyo. The city was alive with activity, the air filled with the sounds of merchants hawking their wares, the clatter of carts on cobblestones, and the chatter of people going about their day. The streets were narrow and winding, lined with stalls selling everything from fresh produce to intricate jewelry. The buildings were tall and closely packed, their wooden facades adorned with colorful banners and lanterns that swayed gently in the breeze.
As she walked, Mariko's mind was still on the conversation with Shen. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but she had no choice. The stakes were too high, and she couldn't afford to fail. She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Haru and Kenshiro approaching until they were right in front of her.
"Mariko," Haru said, his voice sharp and accusatory. "What are you doing here? And what exactly are you up to?"
Mariko blinked, her expression shifting to one of innocent confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice soft and demure. "I was just running an errand for the casino."
Kenshiro crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Don't play dumb with us, Mariko. We know you're involved in something big. Something dangerous."
Mariko shook her head, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. "I really don't know what you mean. I'm just a waitress. I don't have anything to do with whatever you're talking about."
Haru stepped closer, his expression hard. "We're not buying it, Mariko. You're not fooling anyone."
Mariko sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I don't know what to tell you," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "I'm just trying to do my job. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Boss Shen."
With that, she brushed past them and continued down the street, her head held high. Haru and Kenshiro watched her go, their expressions a mix of frustration and suspicion.
From the window of the city lord's building, Shen watched the scene unfold, his scarred face unreadable. He shook his head and muttered something under his breath before turning away from the window, his mind already racing with plans and contingencies.
The game was far from over, and the stakes had never been higher.
Here's the continuation of Chapter 22, following the same detailed style and flow. This scene will pick up right where the last chapter left off—Haru and Kenshiro returning to Yogan, locked up in jail, after seeing Mariko leave the City Lord's building.
***
The torches flickered as the iron door groaned open, the rusted hinges letting out a wretched screech that echoed through the damp corridors of the underground jail. The cold, stale air did little to mask the stench of mildew and dried blood that clung to the stone walls. The guards barely gave them a glance as Haru and Kenshiro stepped into the holding area.
Their boots scuffed against the grimy floor as they made their way to Yogan's cell. He was still sitting against the wall, arms crossed, his dark eyes narrowed in quiet contemplation. But as soon as he caught sight of them, his posture straightened, anticipation flickering in his gaze.
"Well?" Yogan's voice was edged with impatience. "Did you see her?"
Haru exhaled sharply, his fingers brushing through his hair in frustration. "Yeah, we saw her."
Kenshiro leaned against the iron bars, arms crossed. "She was just coming out of the City Lord's building. Pretended like nothing happened."
Yogan's brows furrowed. "What?"
Haru's voice was laced with irritation. "She was acting like she was on some business for the casino. Walked right past us like she didn't just set you up."
Yogan's jaw tightened. He shouldn't have been surprised—Mariko was too sharp to let anything shake her act in public. But still…
"She's got nerve," he muttered.
Kenshiro scoffed. "That's one way to put it."
Haru eyed Yogan carefully. "She told you anything before she left?"
A slow breath escaped Yogan's lips. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again. "Yeah." His voice was measured, calm—but beneath the surface, an unmistakable tension lingered. "She told me who she really is."
Haru and Kenshiro exchanged glances.
Yogan exhaled sharply. "She's a princess."
Silence.
Kenshiro frowned. "A princess?"
"Princess Mariko of the Zhen Earth Kingdom."
Haru's eyebrows shot up. "You're joking."
"I wish I was."
Kenshiro let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "That's… Spirits."
Haru ran a hand down his face. "A princess working as a waitress in a casino? What the hell is she playing at?"
Yogan gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "That's not even the craziest part." He glanced between them, his gaze steady. "She plans to marry me."
Another silence.
Kenshiro blinked. "What?"
Haru let out a sharp laugh, disbelieving. "Oh, now I know you're messing with us."
Yogan shook his head. "She wasn't joking. She's already sent a messenger to my—" He hesitated, then sighed. "—to my family."
Kenshiro caught the slight hesitation. "What about your family?"
Yogan hesitated again, rubbing the back of his neck. He had never cared much about his past—he had spent his life deliberately ignoring it, living as though his bloodline didn't matter. But now…
"My family…" He exhaled. "Apparently, they used to be big shots. I didn't know any of that."
Haru's expression darkened with skepticism. "What do you mean, 'big shots'?"
Yogan shrugged, though his body was visibly tense. "I mean exactly that. I grew up at the Air Temple with my brother. We were sent there when I was around six, so I never really knew what my family was like before that. As far as I knew, we were just some nobodies." He let out a dry chuckle. "Guess I was wrong."
Kenshiro narrowed his eyes. "What's your clan name?"
Yogan glanced at him, then frowned slightly. "Shuji."
A sharp inhale.
Kenshiro stiffened.
Haru, however, looked completely blank. "Shuji?" He tilted his head. "Never heard of them."
Kenshiro shot him a sharp look. "Are you serious? The Shuji Clan?"
Haru crossed his arms. "You recognize the name?"
Kenshiro's expression was unreadable. His gaze flickered back to Yogan. "You really didn't know?"
Yogan's lips pressed into a thin line. "No."
Haru raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so what's the big deal?"
Kenshiro exhaled, rubbing his temples. "The Shuji Clan isn't just some minor noble house. They were one of the most powerful airbender families in history."
Haru blinked. "Wait, what?"
Kenshiro nodded, his voice low. "Back before the Air Temples even became what they are now, there were warrior airbenders. The Shuji Clan wasn't like the monks you see today. They were conquerors."
Yogan remained silent, absorbing the words.
Haru, on the other hand, looked like he had just been told the sky was green. "Conquerors? The Air Nomads?" He shook his head. "That makes no sense. The Air Nomads were always peaceful."
Kenshiro's jaw tightened. "That's the lie history tells. The air nomads are actually a minority of the airbending people."
Yogan let out a slow breath. "That's actually true," he confirmed. "The monks way of life is actually not that enticing although their bending practices are quite formidable."
Kenshiro nodded. "They were kings of the wind. But something happened. Their influence collapsed, and they were almost completely erased from history. It's why the Air Nomads never talk about them." He glanced at Yogan. "And why you never knew."
Haru scoffed. "Okay, even if that's true—what does it have to do with Mariko wanting to marry you?"
Yogan exhaled, his fingers drumming against his knee. "She said she needs an alliance with my family. The Zhen Earth Kingdom isn't as powerful as she wants it to be, and she thinks a marriage with the Shuji Clan will bring them strength."
Haru stared. "And she thinks marrying you is the way to do that?"
Yogan gave a humorless smirk. "Apparently."
Kenshiro's expression remained unreadable. "You're not just some forgotten airbender, Yogan. If the Shuji Clan really does still have influence, then she's right—your name carries weight."
Yogan's smirk faded slightly.
Haru let out an exasperated sigh. "This is insane. First, we come here looking for some easy coin, and now you're a lost prince from a dead dynasty?"
Yogan chuckled. "Sounds ridiculous when you say it like that."
Kenshiro, however, didn't laugh. His expression remained serious. "This isn't a joke. Mariko knows something we don't. And if she's moving this fast, then someone else might be, too."
Haru groaned. "And here I thought Daiyo was just another corrupt city."
Yogan ran a hand down his face. "Trust me, I didn't sign up for this, either."
For a long moment, the three of them sat in silence. The weight of the conversation hung heavy in the air, the truth settling in like an unwanted guest.
Finally, Yogan leaned back against the wall, exhaling. "Well… this is turning out to be a fun trip."
Kenshiro sighed. "We need to figure out our next move."
Haru crossed his arms. "Yeah. Preferably one that doesn't involve royal marriages and ancient airbender conspiracies."
Yogan smirked. "No promises."
The flickering torchlight cast long shadows against the stone walls as they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
The game had changed.
And none of them were ready for what was coming next.
***
The streets of Daiyo were alive with the usual cacophony of life. Merchants hawked their wares, their voices rising above the din of bartering customers. The scent of sizzling street food mingled with the earthy aroma of the city's cobblestone streets, worn smooth by centuries of foot traffic. The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the bustling marketplace. But as Boss Shen stepped into the fray, the atmosphere shifted. The crowd seemed to sense his presence before they even saw him, a ripple of unease spreading through the throng like a stone dropped into still water.
Boss Shen moved with the deliberate, heavy gait of a man who knew his power. His massive frame, cloaked in a dark robe embroidered with golden tigers, seemed to dominate the space around him. The fabric swayed with each step, the intricate designs catching the sunlight and glinting like the eyes of a predator. His shaved head gleamed, the deep scars on his face adding to his menacing aura. His cold, calculating eyes scanned the crowd, and wherever his gaze fell, people averted their eyes, stepping aside to clear a path. The crowd parted before him like the Red Sea before Moses, whispers of fear and respect trailing in his wake.
Behind him, his men followed in perfect sync, their movements crisp and disciplined, like a well-marched military band. They were dressed in simple green and brown tunics, their faces hard and unyielding. Each man carried himself with the confidence of someone who knew they were untouchable, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. The rhythm of their footsteps echoed through the streets, a steady drumbeat that underscored Shen's dominance. The people of Daiyo knew better than to cross Boss Shen or his men. They were the enforcers of the city's shadowy underworld, the iron fist that kept order in the chaos.
As Shen approached his casino, the guards at the entrance snapped to attention. The casino was a glittering palace of light and sound, a stark contrast to the grim reality of the city's underbelly. Its opulent facade was adorned with golden dragons and phoenixes, their eyes seeming to follow Shen as he approached. The guards, dressed in the same green and brown tunics as Shen's men, bowed their heads in deference as he passed.
"No one disturbs me in my office," Shen growled, his voice low and commanding. The guards nodded, their faces impassive, and Shen stepped inside.
The interior of the casino was a world of its own. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the faint metallic tang of polished stone. The floors were made of smooth, dark wood, polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting the flickering light of the lanterns that lined the walls. The sound of clinking coins and the murmur of gamblers filled the air, a constant hum of activity. Shen stood in the entrance for a moment, his massive frame hidden as his men surrounded him in a tight circle, their presence a silent reminder of his power.
Then, with a sudden, deliberate motion, Shen stomped his left foot into the dirt floor. The ground beneath him seemed to tremble, and for a moment, the entire casino fell silent. The gamblers and dealers froze, their eyes darting toward the source of the disturbance. Then, with a low rumble, the ground beneath Shen's feet collapsed, and he fell through the floor into the dark abyss below.
The fall lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. The darkness swallowed him whole, the air rushing past his ears as he descended. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the fall ended. Shen emerged in his office on the top floor of the casino, the ground beneath him solid once more. The transition was seamless, as if the laws of physics had bent to his will. He straightened, brushing a speck of dust from his robe, and walked to his massive desk.
The office was a reflection of Shen himself—large, imposing, and meticulously organized. The walls were lined with shelves filled with ancient scrolls and artifacts, their surfaces gleaming in the light of the lanterns that hung from the ceiling. The floor was covered in a thick, plush carpet, its patterns intricate and swirling, like the currents of a river. At the center of the room stood Shen's desk, a massive piece of furniture carved from dark wood and polished to a mirror-like sheen. Behind it was a large, custom-made chair, designed to accommodate Shen's extra-large frame.
Shen poured himself a cup of sake from a delicate porcelain bottle, the liquid glinting in the lantern light. He raised the cup to his lips and drank it in one full gulp, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through his chest. He closed his eyes and let out a long, exasperated sigh, the weight of the day's events pressing down on him. He leaned back into his chair, the wood creaking under his weight, and put his legs up on the desk, his boots resting on the polished surface.
"What do you want, Wei?" Shen called, his voice low and gravelly. He didn't need to open his eyes to know who had entered the room. He could hear the soft, almost imperceptible footsteps of the young man as he approached.
Wei was a lean, skinny young man, barely in his twenties. His clothes were ragged and covered in dirt, his hair wild and unkempt, with loose ends sticking out in every direction. His face was sharp and angular, his eyes darting around the room like a weasel searching for an escape. He was the kind of person who always seemed to be lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to ingratiate himself with those in power.
"Boss Shen," Wei began, his voice trembling slightly. "I have the report from your friend in the jail next to the airbender."
Shen finally opened his eyes, his gaze sharp and penetrating. He put his legs down from the desk and sat up straight, his massive frame looming over Wei like a mountain. "So tell me," Shen demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "What did he report?"
Wei swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "The princess," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "She's been visiting the airbender. She's been talking to him about... about marriage."
Shen's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. "Marriage?" he repeated, his voice dripping with disbelief. "To the airbender?"
Wei nodded vigorously. "Yes, Boss Shen. She's been telling him that she wants to marry him, to use the influence of the Shuji clan for her Zhen kingdom. She never even intended to suggest it was for Daiyo, like you had agreed."
Shen leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. His mind raced as he processed the information. He had known Mariko was the princess of the Zhen Earth Kingdom, but he had never expected her to go this far. She had told him she had run away from her kingdom because her father wanted her to marry some fat loser named Ru Tan, a powerful and influential man she had angered by refusing to marry him. Shen had believed her story, especially after meeting Ru Tan himself. The man's grotesque appearance and reputation for destruction had convinced Shen of the truth of her tales.
But now, he wondered. Was it all a lie? Had Mariko fabricated the story about Ru Tan to gain his trust? Or had she simply used the man's reputation to her advantage? Shen's jaw tightened as he considered the possibilities. He had heard rumors of Ru Tan's recent rampage, how he had destroyed a mountain in a fit of rage. The man was a force to be reckoned with, and Shen had no doubt that crossing him would be a death sentence. But if Mariko had lied about her engagement to Ru Tan, what else had she lied about?
"Who else has visited the airbender?" Shen asked, his voice low and measured.
Wei hesitated for a moment before answering. "Only the princess and those two friends of his. The ones who have been trying to find a way to free him."
Shen's eyes narrowed further. "And the princess? What else has she done?"
Wei swallowed again, his voice trembling. "She sent a message to the Zhen kingdom. About her supposed engagement to the airbender. She mentioned that an envoy from her father, the king, will be sent to take them back."
Shen's eyes widened in surprise. This was news to him. Mariko had never mentioned anything about sending a message to her father. If the king of the Zhen kingdom was sending an envoy, it could only mean one thing: Mariko was planning to leave Daiyo, and she was taking the airbender with her.
Shen leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. He had trusted Mariko, had even admired her cunning and ambition. But now, it seemed she had been playing him all along. She had used him, used his casino, and now she was planning to leave him behind, taking the airbender and the influence of the Shuji clan with her.
"Leave me be, Wei," Shen said, his voice low and dangerous. Wei didn't need to be told twice. He scurried out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Shen sat in silence for a long moment, his mind churning with thoughts of betrayal and revenge. He had always known that Mariko was ambitious, but he had never expected her to double-cross him. She had played with the wrong Boss, and now she would learn the consequences of her actions.
---
The stage was set for an explosive confrontation. Rilo still hung like a slaughtered lamb in the basement of the casino, his body broken but his spirit unyielding. Mariko had returned to her pretend life as a waitress, her mind racing with plans and schemes. Yogan remained in the underground jail, his friends Kenshiro and Haru working tirelessly to find a way to free him. And Boss Shen, the enforcer of Daiyo's underworld, was preparing to unleash his wrath.
The epic conclusion of these events was going to be explosive and game-changing. The pieces were in place, the players were gathering, and the storm was about to break.
[A/N: Can't wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on patreon.com/saiyanprincenovels. If you enjoyed this chapter and want to see more, don't forget to drop a power stone! Your support helps this story reach more readers!]