Atop the cliff, Aoyama Minami stood like a statue of a vengeful god, Ah Hei's blood still staining his fists. He looked down at the fallen Chan Ho Nam and the unconscious Little Bee, his face a blank canvas. He had won. But he had lost everything.
Just then, a figure in a kimono rushed towards him. It was his wife, Tokugawa Yoshiki.
"Minami, stop!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "Please, it's enough! Look what you've become!"
At the same time, Tachibana Masato, wounded but still standing, appeared. "Aoyama," he said with contempt. "You've already lost. Even if you conquered the world, you're just a mad animal who has nothing."
Aoyama turned to look at his wife. That beautiful face was now, in his eyes, the very image of betrayal. "Betrayal…" he whispered. "You… and the thing in your belly… are my shame!"
"No, Minami, please listen to me…"
But it was too late. The madness had consumed him. He moved like a bolt of lightning. Before Tachibana could react, Aoyama's hand was around his wife's throat.
SNAP!
A dry, sickening crack of bone. He had killed the woman he once loved, killed his pride and his greatest humiliation with his own hands. He let her lifeless body fall to the ground, then turned to Tachibana, his eyes a burning, hellish red.
"Now," he roared. "It's just you and me."
No more running. The two titans clashed in a final, death-defying duel. Aoyama was pure power, each punch landing like a sledgehammer. Tachibana was pure skill, his dagger a venomous snake striking at vital points.
CLANG! Tachibana parried one of Aoyama's blows, but the force of it nearly shattered his blade and the bones in his arm. He fell back, his right arm now injured. Aoyama charged, but Tachibana sidestepped and plunged his knife into the old wound on Aoyama's shoulder, twisting it viciously.
"ARGH!" Aoyama screamed in pain but didn't retreat. He ignored the knife, grabbed Tachibana's injured arm, and bent it back. They were both at their limit, covered in blood and sweat. Finally, they broke apart, gathering their last ounce of strength.
"DIE!" Aoyama bellowed, throwing one last, cataclysmic punch.
Tachibana met it with his own strike, but he was too exhausted. Aoyama's fist connected with his chest, sending him flying backward to collapse in a heap, completely spent.
Aoyama stood there, swaying. He had won. He looked at the unmoving Tachibana, but there was no smile on his lips. He, too, had reached his end. His body began to convulse, his eyes rolled back, and blood poured from his mouth and shoulder wound. He crashed to the ground. His last breath was a meaningless gurgle. A life of terrible ambition had ended in madness and solitude.
The Fireworks Festival ended in tragedy. The Sankō-gumi's bid to conquer Hong Kong had failed. They quietly collected the bodies of Aoyama Minami and his wife and left the city. Due to the chaos, Aoyama's death was officially ruled an accident, and Tachibana was freed. The other gangs scattered.
Six months later, at a high-end restaurant in Tsim Sha Tsui.
A group of thugs in cheap suits was making a scene. "Do you know who this is? This is Miss Fong Ting, the movie star! Get us the best table, now!"
Fong Ting, a Category III adult film actress, sat with her legs crossed, an arrogant look on her face.
The thugs approached a table in the corner where a man in simple clothes was quietly eating his noodles. "Hey, old man," one of them rapped on the table. "We're taking this table. Scram."
The man slowly looked up. He wasn't old, and his eyes were as sharp as a razor. He smiled. "Oh? This is your table now?"
Instantly, from all corners of the restaurant, other tough-looking men stood up and began to walk over. The thugs and Fong Ting turned pale. They had just kicked a hornet's nest.
In a sleek, modern office, the man from the restaurant, Crow, a big boss from the Hung Hing triad, sat across from a trembling Fong Ting.
"Do you have any idea that you are this company's golden goose?" Crow asked, his voice deceptively calm. "Why would you go and embarrass me by starting trouble with a bunch of nobodies?"
He then noticed a small baggie of powder fall from her purse. He picked it up. "Hallucinogens again? How many times have I told you?" he roared, his calmness vanishing.
"I… I didn't…"
"SHUT UP!" Crow yelled. He turned to his subordinate. "Investigate. Find the son of a bitch who sold this to her."
A short while later, the subordinate returned. "Big Brother Crow, we found him. The one selling drugs to Miss Fong Ting…" the man hesitated.
"Spit it out."
"…he's one of Chan Ho Nam's boys. His name is San Kai."
Crow leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on his desk. He said nothing, but a slow, malicious, and calculating smile spread across his face.
"Chan Ho Nam…" he whispered. "This is getting interesting."