Chapter 156: Ex-Lovers Day!

Chapter 156: Ex-Lovers Day!

Star City Penitentiary, Cell-block-D, Cell #156.

Inside a cramped ten-by-ten-foot concrete enclosure, two rusted metal-framed beds jutted directly out of the stone wall, one over the other. There were absolutely no comfortable mattresses to speak of, only a pair of folded, coarse woolen sheets provided to each inmate—one meant to line the bare iron mesh and the other to serve as a thin blanket. Not even a simple pillow was afforded to the occupants in this luxurious correctional suite.

Squeezed tightly between the two beds sat a small, stained toilet bowl entirely devoid of a plastic seat cover. There was no flushing tank attached, just a single, exposed utility pipe running down from the ceiling to forcefully wash the human waste away through the cold metal fixture. This exact same high-pressure pipe also connected directly to a small, unvarnished faucet hovering right next to the bowl, serving as the sole source of lukewarm drinking tap water for the cell. (Harem-Fan: Art of this at the end.)

Two miserable prisoners currently occupied the freezing concrete room, both men dressed in faded, stained black-and-white striped prison uniforms.

Each of them sported thick, unshaven patches of scraggly beard across their grim, sullen facial expressions.

The entire enclosure carried a heavy, rancid scent of fecal matter, a stench driven primarily by the left-side occupant's medical colostomy bag, which he was forced to rely on to empty his damaged large intestine. His pungent personal body odor was honestly far stronger and more offensive than the unsanitary metal toilet sitting in the center of the small room.

The main cell door was a solid slab of heavy metal, reinforced with a one-foot pane of thick, scratched security glass near the top. Cut directly into the bottom of the iron frame was a sliding steel panel used by the guards to push in and retrieve various daily objects, including heavy food trays, clean laundry, and fresh bedsheets.

The broken prisoner occupying the bottom bunk was Chris Honda, while the brooding man resting on the top bunk was Steven Woo.

After a long stretch of absolute silence within the room, Chris finally broke the quiet air with a completely random, aimless question.

"What day is it exactly?" Chris muttered, scratching his matted hair. "Is it a scheduled shower day yet? I absolutely hate getting brutally sprayed down with that high-pressure fire hose and freezing cold water, but goddammit, I stink."

The grumpy, bitter man laying flat on the top bed stared unblinkingly up at the stained concrete ceiling, his voice filled with a deep sense of total defeat as he answered, "I am pretty sure it is Friday, February fourteenth. Lovers Day. But honestly, I am not even sure if it is daytime or nighttime out in the real world right now."

Chris let out a raspy, unsettling chuckle from his bunk, "Oh, it is definitely nighttime. I know that for a fact because Frank is already busy fucking Bob in the cell right next to ours, and he only ever chooses to pull off his moves at night. As for Lovers Day, man, I used to absolutely love that holiday. I would always make it a point to record a special, private tape with whatever sweet virgin girl I could hunt down out in the city."

Steven Woo rolled his head to the side, looking across the small gap with an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.

"I know all about it already," Steven snapped bitterly. "I literally know the exact name of every single woman you have ever fucked and every single graphic detail of how you did it, because you refuse to ever shut your mouth. But honestly, completely losing your dick and your anus in exchange for your five years of cheap lust doesn't sound like it was worth the trade-off at all. Then again, you are serving a literal life sentence in this hellhole, so what use would you even have for those parts anyway, right?"

Chris sneered in the dim space, his blue eyes flashing with a sudden, unhinged confidence, "I still have both of my hands and my mouth to work with, don't I? Plus, you and I are absolutely going to get out of this place sooner than you think. Just put your complete trust in Laura's words."

Steven Woo just let out a loud, insanely mocking laugh, his voice dripping with heavy doubt, "What? You actually believe that crazy, one-legged woman? I am definitely not going to hold my breath waiting on her. Who the hell would even want to waste their resources breaking a couple of broken convicts like us out of a high-security prison anyway? It is never going to happen. Plus, even if I somehow managed to escape past these walls, the Fire Birds would just hunt me down and kill me the next morning."

"She told me the operation is being handled directly by the Southern Cross," Chris countered sharply, leanly forward. "And they are working in tandem with that elite international mercenary gang known as the Wizards of Oz."

The moment the specific gang name left Chris's mouth, Steven started to laugh even more insanely, clutching his ribs, "Ha ha ha ha! Man, those North American criminals always have the most ridiculous, childish gang names. First, it was the Mad Hatters, and now the Wizards of Oz suddenly want to try and grab a slice of the pie over here?!"

Chris shook his head firmly, dismissing Steven's mocking tone, "No, you don't understand. The Wizards of Oz might carry a silly, theatrical name, but those guys are incredibly high-tech and they almost never fail a single contract they accept. The Mad Hatters are just a cliche group of street thugs, but the Oz organization consists entirely of seasoned, highly trained experts who originally deserted from the military forces of the UK. Those bastards have access to actual combat tanks and military-grade helicopters, and they are insanely expensive to hire. They even successfully robbed Fort Knox a while back and managed to completely get away with the gold. The King of North America is still absolutely livid about the breach."

Steven stopped laughing, his expression turning serious as he sat up slightly, "What exactly would the Wizards of Oz and the Southern Cross stand to gain from breaking us out of prison?"

A look of pure, unchecked madness danced in Chris's eyes as he laid out the plot, "They want to orchestrate a massive security breach to let all of the convicts flood the streets, creating absolute chaos across the city. While the local authorities are distracted, they plan to extract all of us who possess highly specialized technical skills and ship us straight to America to help train their private mercenary forces. The Cross wants the massive distraction in the streets so they can pull off a high-profile heist under the cover of the confusion. Laura explicitly told me they desperately need my advanced medical knowledge. She is going to train their active troops, and we are going to live a highly comfortable, cushy lifestyle over there. Once we are backed by an army, we can finally get our bloody revenge on that bastard Rick Tang."

Steven Woo sat all the way up on the edge of his iron frame, carefully weighing his current legal situation before shaking his head, "No. In only four years, I will be eligible to get out of here legally anyway. My sister promised she would help me safely escape to the Japan Empire the moment I am free, where I can finally live out my days completely clear of the Feng Syndicate's reach."

Chris let out a harsh, mocking sneer, "What? No, you idiot. Your hot sister is currently serving that bastard Rick Tang full-time now. She is absolutely never going to help you escape this country. You need to pull your head out of your ass and come along with us to North America."

"No, my sister and I share a lifetime bond of absolute loyalty to one another," Steven spat back defensively, his fists clenching tight. "She will never stay genuinely loyal to a monster like Rick. She only lost a physical fight to his forces and is doing what she has to do to survive because she loves me. The moment I reach the Japan Empire, I can easily gather my family's remaining martial allies and launch my own calculated revenge. Then I will personally take back every single thing that bastard stole from me—my wealth, my wife, his own wives, and my sister."

"Well, suit yourself," Chris laughed, leaning back against the concrete wall. "I will gladly go play around with some tight American girls while you finish out your long sentence in a cage. If you want to sneak out during the active jailbreak, go right ahead, but I am not going to waste my time worrying about your ass, though Laura will probably be pissed."

"Fuck Laura," Steven growled, slamming his fist onto his knee. "Laura is an absolute piece of shit. Her own fucking daughter is currently acting all chummy and close with Rick anyway, so what kind of moral high horse does that woman think she is riding with her single fucking leg?"

Before their argument could escalate any further, the small concrete room suddenly fell back into a dead silence.

Clink! Slide! Clink!

After a long stretch of quiet, the mechanical sliding panel at the base of the solid iron door abruptly clicked open. A thick, heavy brown document envelope was forcefully slid across the floor tile, accompanied by a deep, muffled voice echoing from the corridor outside.

[Prisoner Steven Woo, Happy Lovers Day!]

Both Chris and Steven instantly darted their eyes toward the brown envelope resting on the floor. After a few tense moments of hesitation, Steven cautiously reached down and picked it up, his face filled with utter confusion. It was an incredibly rare occurrence, but certain wealthy individuals out in the city routinely bribed the corrupt prison guards to deliver illicit items and letters into the cell blocks at incredibly steep prices. But who on Eurasia would be sending something to him? Furthermore, if Steven didn't completely get rid of the contents before the upcoming room inspection, the guards would launch a highly aggressive physical beatdown on them both.

Chris watched with intense curiosity as Steven tore open the seal, pulling out two distinct pieces of paper from the package. Almost instantly, Steven's facial expression turned a stark, visible shade of pale, before a wave of pure, unadulterated anger filled his red eyes.

Both sheets of paper slipped from his trembling fingers, fluttering down to the dirty concrete floor as Steven suddenly covered his face and started to cry hysterically.

Chris, completely devoid of any basic boundaries, quickly reached down to snatch up the dropped papers, desperate to see what kind of news could turn his cellmate into such a distressed, weeping mess.

The very first item his eyes landed on was an official medical record bearing the stamp of Star General Hospital, a formatting he was highly familiar with from his past career. The document explicitly stated that Cat Woo was officially pregnant, and the biological father listed on the file was none other than Rick Lee-Tang. Chris vividly remembered that back when Steven was initially being processed under police arrest, Rick had made some cryptic remarks alluding to the fact that if Cat ever became pregnant, it would undoubtedly be his child. Smirking, Chris shifted his gaze down to examine the second item in the envelope.

The second piece of paper was a high-resolution, color photograph captured from a poolside scene. The image clearly displayed Rick laying face down on a luxury lounge chair, while Hinata Kyusho was standing directly over his body, expertly giving him a physical massage. She was wearing absolutely nothing except a dangerously short, loose white sleeping kimono—the exact kind of revealing attire a woman would only wear in bed. Based entirely on the intimate expressions of both individuals, the dynamic between them looked highly personal and deeply physical in nature. This was absolutely not the look of an honorable martial artist simply wanting to assist her family's master.

"Damn, Steve," Chris chuckled darkly, waving the photograph in the air. "Rick is truly thorough when it comes to delivering a complete, agonizing revenge, isn't he? I guess based on this lewd picture, he is planning to make you his nephew next. Your hot sister is practically straddling right over his waist while he relaxes. Hey, do you mind if I keep this picture for myself? I haven't seen a half-naked Asian woman in a long-ass time, he-he!"

With fresh tears streaming down his face, Steven looked up, his voice cracking with pure venom, "I cannot ever go back to the Japan Empire now... not after her total betrayal. I will join you and head to North America. I will find a way to make that bastard suffer for everything he has done to my life!"

Meanwhile, inside a gleaming ten-story corporate office building downtown, Alex Renaldo sat directly behind the massive mahogany desk in the CEO suite of Floppy-Tech, working diligently to manage his rapidly growing business operations. However, the uninvited individual currently visiting his office was making it entirely difficult to focus on his work.

Alex let out a tired, heavy sigh, looking across the desk at the blonde, brown-eyed American man standing before him, "Ralph Colt, I am absolutely not going to let myself be used by you for some petty, personal revenge scheme. Especially when it comes to dealing with Rick Tang. Every single one of that man's enemies always ends up in an incredibly bad, broken shape. The mere fact that he doesn't actively bother to come after me right now is a damn miracle in itself, and I refuse to kick a sleeping tiger. Literally!"

Ralph Colt just let out a harsh, mocking sneer, crossing his arms over his chest, "So you are really just going to sit back and let your own beautiful fiancée travel to Long Island to meet with her parents alongside Rick, and you aren't going to raise a single protest?! Are you a complete pussy, Alex?"

"Ralph, look at the reality of the situation," Alex replied, his voice dropping into a stern tone as he leaned forward. "We might be old friends, but Kim and I are no longer officially together. I desperately wanted her back at one point, but she fell completely in love with Rick, so that chapter of my life is officially over. Rick has already thoroughly beaten me in a physical fight before, and to be entirely honest, I am certain he was being incredibly kind to me by letting me walk away. The man is currently in total control of one of the four major Syndicates ruling Eurasia. And finally, above all else, he is a certified killer. I don't desire Kim's company badly enough to willingly run straight into a hail of automatic bullets. So if you want to cause Rick problems, go right ahead and do it entirely by yourself. Who is the real pussy now? I am incredibly busy running a company, so see yourself out of my office."

Ralph stood his ground for a moment, narrowing his eyes as he prepared to deliver a toxic parting shot designed to thoroughly piss off his useless friend.

"Scott Song already knows exactly what you did with his wife, Alex," Ralph laughed wickedly, turning toward the door. "Hope is officially pregnant right now, and based entirely on the contents of that private video floating around, the kid is probably yours. So you better watch your back very carefully... friend, ha-ha!"

The moment the heavy door clicked shut behind Ralph, Alex stared blankly at the wood for a few tense seconds before picking up his smartphone. He dialed a familiar number, listening to the steady, artificial ring in his ear as the gravity of Ralph's threat pressed down on him.

"Hey, it is me, Alex," he spoke into the receiver, his voice dropping into a tired, subdued register. "Sorry, I know it is incredibly late right now, but can we talk?"

Across the city in a dim, generic hotel room, the space was entirely pitch-black, save for the flickering light of a television playing the nightly news.

Scott Song sat on the edge of the mattress, his fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of a half-empty bottle of cheap whisky.

He was dressed only in a pair of faded pajama pants, leaving his bare chest entirely exposed to the cold air. A horrific mass of fresh branding, crude text, and scarred imagery littered his entire torso, stretching aggressively across his belly, chest, shoulders, and lower back.

Some of the jagged, angry words carved into his flesh clearly read things like... [Tang Disgrace], [Hope's Puppet], and a blunt [Dick].

The graphic words had finally scabbed over and were in the middle of a rough healing process. The deep burns inflicted with the soldering iron during that chaotic party weren't deep enough to kill him, but they were far too robust and widespread to ever be easily erased with plastic surgery. This series of humiliating, permanent labels would remain with him for the absolute rest of his life.

While he drank heavily from the bottle, his thumb repeatedly scrolled through his phone screen, completely ignoring the continuous barrage of incoming texts from Hope. She was desperately trying to assure him that the child in her womb was entirely his and not Alex's, but Scott had become completely numb to the idea of women cheating on him. The stark fact that it was Hope who had ultimately betrayed his trust completely ended any remaining warmth in his heart.

She had been his absolute last emotional lifeline in a crumbling world. For her to have willingly cheated on him, followed immediately by this brutal vandalism of his own flesh during one of her wild parties at her own club, caused him to lose every single ounce of faith he had left in her.

Scott stared blankly at the screen, noticing a series of new updates flashing on the Harem-Chat network. Without a single word of warning, he manually removed every single woman from his contact list, effectively cutting his ties until he was finally, entirely alone in the dark.

"Well, Hope, you always said you desperately wanted to make a movie, right?" Scott whispered, a raspy, unsettling chuckle escaping his throat. "He-he~!"

With a sudden, decisive click, Scott uploaded the private surveillance video he had received and watched repeatedly straight onto the world wide web, emblazoning the file with a toxic, public title... [For a cheap fuck, call Hope Song!]

"I am officially the ultimate green hat in this city," he muttered, tilting the bottle back for another heavy swig. "So why the hell should I care about this shame anymore, right? Let the entire world see exactly what kind of slut you really are. Live in absolute public shame, bitch."

Then, a twisted, manic smile broke across his face as he opened his secure personal files, pulling out a massive backlog of their private sex tapes and wild party videos, systematically dumping them all onto the public servers. The more files he uploaded, the wider and more unhinged his smile became.

As he actively set about destroying Hope's reputation, he felt the heavy, suffocating weight around his chest begin to lighten. A sudden realization dawned on him.

"So, Rick... this is exactly how it feels to get a taste of real revenge, huh?" Scott laughed aloud to the empty room. "Well, I think I happen to like this feeling very much. I think I like being the bad guy for once. I am absolutely never going to let other people walk all over me again. From now on, I will just live my life completely freely. Honestly, the simple life of a commoner is the best! See, mother? Your boy is just going to do exactly as he pleases, ha-ha! Ex-Lovers Day... yeah, this is the exact day that Scott Tang is reborn. Fuck the Song family, and fuck everyone else too."

After taking a few more burning swigs of his alcohol, his fingers flew across the keyboard as he began searching the web for potential allies who could help him bring absolute chaos to his perceived betrayers.

Before long, a specific headline caught his bloodshot eyes.

"The CEO of Floppy-Tech?!" Scott grinned wickedly, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous, new intent. "Hmm... So you want my soon-to-be ex-wife do ya, punk? He-he-he..."

Meanwhile, inside a brand-new luxury estate on the upscale side of town, Sam Sun was cooped up in his private bedroom with a beautiful personal maid. He carried a profoundly sad, pathetic expression as the woman diligently attempted to give him oral pleasure to absolute no avail. Sam kept desperately praying that the medical experts were wrong, hoping against hope that some semblance of life would finally return to his little buddy down below.

"Slurp... Young Master, this maid is incredibly sorry," the woman whispered, pulling back with a nervous glance. "She is clearly not good enough at this to help you."

Frustrated and deeply humiliated, Sam forcefully pushed the completely naked maid away from his body, his voice cracking with rage.

"You are just simply not attractive enough to turn me on!" he snapped, pulling his silk covers up. "So just get the hell out of my room. If you dare speak a single word of this to anyone in the house, you are immediately fired."

The beautiful woman silently gathered her scattered clothing off the floor and exited the bedroom without uttering a single word. The moment the latch clicked, Sam threw on his plush robe and immediately marched down the hallway in search of his mother.

Finding Pam sitting behind the desk in her private study, he ran straight into her arms, breaking down into a fit of hysterical, desperate crying.

"Mommy, why won't it work?!" Sam sobbed, burying his face in her shoulder. "Sob, sob... I can't feel absolutely anything good down there, mommy!"Pam's heart completely broke at the sight of Sam's severe erectile dysfunction. She tightly coddled him against her chest, rocking him gently as she tried to soothe his panic.

"Sweetheart, please don't worry yourself to death," Pam murmured, stroking his hair. "Your mummy has just secured a solid lead regarding your physical problem. There was an identical case displaying the exact same symptoms you are experiencing over in the China Empire, involving a rare, specialized poison meant to create literal eunuchs. There is a documented cure if that turns out to be the case, but it is incredibly costly, and you will personally need to travel to the China Empire to receive the treatment."

Sam's entire body trembled violently upon hearing the news. He instantly stopped his crying, sniffling loudly as he looked up into her eyes.

"Really, mummy?!" Sam gasped, a desperate spark of hope returning to his face. "I can actually get my manhood back? Are you absolutely certain about this?"

"Yes, it seems highly likely that you were intentionally poisoned by someone in your circle, and that is the exact reason your parts stopped working," Pam explained seriously. "But the authorities in the China Empire are not easy to deal with, my snookums. And the financial cost to secure the medicine is exceptionally high."

"I promise I will pay absolutely anything they ask!" Sam interjected irrationally, his fists clenching. "What do they want from us?!"

"One million," Pam revealed calmly. "And you must agree to marry one of their noble ladies as your primary, first wife, so she can return here to live with you and bear your future children. There is absolutely no negotiating on this term."

"Yes, anything! I will marry whoever the hell they want!" Sam shouted, nodding frantically. "We can easily afford that price, right?!"

Pam smiled warmly down at her child, giving him a reassuring nod, "Then I will immediately place a call to that Lang woman I met recently. She will handle all the necessary travel arrangements for you, my son. Then, you can finally get your masculine confidence back. Just make sure you produce plenty of grandchildren for me the moment you are healed, before anything like this can ever happen again, okay?"

"Mummy, don't you worry about that at all," Sam laughed, a creepy, eager grin breaking across his face. "I am going to make so many babies, he-he!"

Meanwhile, Logan Chen had spent his afternoon out shopping at the local commercial mall, successfully picking up a handful of rare, new anime DVDs he had been keeping his eyes on for weeks. As he walked across the smooth asphalt of the parking lot toward his parked motorcycle, the sudden, sharp ring of a woman's voice made him freeze in his tracks.

"Fancy running into the infamous Logan Chen in a mundane place like this," the voice echoed from behind him. "It has certainly been a while, Sea Temple trash."

Logan slowly turned his head, his eyes narrowing as he locked onto a woman dressed in flowing, pristine white martial arts robes. She looked to be around thirty years old, sporting long, striking white hair and piercing blue eyes that carried the unmistakable, freezing air of a detached ice queen. She originally hailed from the mainland of the China Empire, but currently operated in the cold northern territories of Eurasia.

"Lan Chow!" Logan grunted, his posture instantly shifting into a defensive alignment. "I could have sworn I killed you during our clash last year? So your Snow Temple has finally sent their primary Master down to deal with me now, huh?"

Her pale lips curled into a look of absolute mockery.

"You always need to thoroughly confirm your opponents are truly dead before walking away from a battlefield, you pathetic sea snake," she countered, her voice dripping with ice. "But I actually managed to break through my old bottleneck solely due to surviving that failed attack of yours. So now, I have officially come to Star City to claim this territory for our sect. Your Sea Temple has absolutely zero operational rights here. You are completely alone, while I have brought a massive contingent of trained practitioners with me."

Logan simply shrugged his shoulders, making sure his shopping bag was securely fastened to the bike frame before stepping forward into the open space. He rolled his neck, a sharp pop echoing in the quiet air. A sudden grin broke across his face as he naturally dropped into a bizarre, fluid stance that Lan Chow had absolutely never witnessed before.

Lan frowned deeply, her eyes tracking Logan's strange, swaying movements with a look of growing suspicion, "Logan... have you been drinking?!"

Logan, utilizing his advanced acting skills to the absolute limit, let out a perfectly loose, drunken shrug, fully channeling his inner Rick Lee.

"Maybe? Who the hell knows," he slurred with a wicked grin, his body swaying unpredictably as he channeled the internal energy. "Now let's fight! Hic!"

Lan Chow, sensing that something was fundamentally wrong with his balance and aura, instantly took a sharp step backward, completely changing her tactical plans on the spot.

"This location is far too public of a place to launch a proper duel," she hissed, narrowing her blue eyes. "I am merely greeting an old friend today. We can gladly kill each other at a more suitable time in the future, humph. Leave Star City immediately, Logan, or I will personally slaughter you and everyone you have ever known. Goodbye, dead man..."

The moment the Snow Temple's Lan Chow fled into the crowded parking structure, Logan dropped his loose stance, standing perfectly normal as a massive grin spread across his face.

"Rick's Drunken Style technique actually made that cold bitch hesitate to strike," Logan laughed to himself, adjusting his leather jacket. "Yeah, I completely fell for it when he used it on me too, ha-ha. Well, to meet an old ex-lover on the morning of Lovers Day... what are the absolute odds of that? I better call Rick immediately and let him know that the northern factions are officially here in the city."