In the boundless expanse of the spiritual space, Xiang Yu found solace with Lian and Mei. Time was an abstract concept here, slipping through their fingers like grains of sand.
The trio spent their days in a leisurely haze, with Lian and Mei doing their best to lift Xiang Yu’s spirits. They watched shows together, the flickering images casting a warm glow on their faces. It was a temporary escape from the stone weighing heavy on his heart.
Xiang Yu often found himself lost in thought, his mind drifting to the Divine Emperor. He wanted to ask him when they would leave this place and go to the next world, but the cold war between them made him restrain himself.
One night, as Xiang Yu slept peacefully, the tranquillity of the spiritual space was shattered. A brilliant light enveloped their bodies, its intensity blinding. Lian and Mei stirred beside him, their forms shimmering as the light grew brighter. In an instant, they vanished, leaving the spiritual space behind. The transition was seamless, the shift from one realm to another as effortless as a breath.
The haze of cigarette smoke hung thick in the air, curling lazily toward the dimly lit ceiling. Blue neon lights flickered intermittently, casting ghostly shadows on the plush carpet that swallowed sounds in the room. Xiang Yu stirred beneath silk sheets that felt foreign against his skin, their cool touch a stark contrast to what he was used to.
He woke up with a dizzying sensation that swept through him like a tide. Sitting up abruptly, he rubbed his forehead with a nasal groan, trying to clear the fog from his mind. His eyes fluttered open but remained blurry.
It took him a moment to register where he was. The room appeared low-end yet oddly luxurious. It was a space clearly designed for indulgence rather than comfort. Two naked women lay beside him; one nestled under the silk sheets, her features obscured by darkness, while the other sprawled half across him, her leg resting on his thigh.
He pushed the woman’s leg away gently; she didn’t stir but rolled over into deeper slumber instead. He scanned the room. Above him was a mirrored ceiling reflecting an image of himself, shirtless and clad only in a pair of tight briefs. There were empty bottles cluttered beside the bed, cigarette buds and a small bag of colourful pills on the bedside table. They were clear pieces of evidence of a night of extreme debauchery.
A muted television flickered softly on the wall, playing some melancholic tune. "What is going on?" he asked the Divine Emperor in his mind.
"Oh ho! Now you want to talk to me," came his playful taunt tinged with mockery.
Xiang Yu grimaced inwardly. He wasn’t in the mood for games or dealing with his childish antics. "Where are Lian and Mei?" He pulled on a shirt emblazoned with flashy prints that felt gaudy and an eye sore and buttoned it up.
The Divine Emperor coughed audibly within Xiang Yu’s mind unable to stand the coldness in Xiang Yu’s voice. "They’re...on a cargo ship."
"Where? Where is that?" His voice dripped with urgency as he shoved denim jeans up over his lean hips.
"They’re being held hostage and transported into the country... like slaves." A pause lingered heavily between them before adding ominously, "They will reach port within three hours."
The Divine Emperor had to use words Xiang Yu would understand. In essence, the twins were basically being trafficked into the country alongside other girls.
Malice flashed in Xiang Yu’s darkened eyes as clarity surged through him like electricity coursing through bare wires. He was going to kill anyone who dared lay a hand on them. With determination hardening every muscle in his body, he yanked on the scuffed leather boots before snatching what appeared to be his wallet and keys off the bedside table
He exited the dimly lit private room, the heavy bass from the dance floor above reverberating through the passageway like a relentless heartbeat. He could feel the vibrations in his bones. "I need the memories of this body; otherwise, I won’t be able to function," he said, feeling quite anxious.
The Divine Emperor’s voice echoed in his mind as he warned, "It will be painful." But Xiang Yu didn’t care. He was willing to endure it.
"Do it," he replied through gritted teeth, bracing himself.
A sharp, searing pain struck his mind as if a dagger had been driven into his brain. His veins throbbed, and his ears rang with a piercing intensity. He pressed his palm against the cold, rough wall to steady himself, his vision blurring. A waiter pushing a trolley laden with alcohol paused, concern etched on his face.
"Sir, are you okay?" the waiter asked.
Xiang Yu forced a smile, though it felt like a grimace. "I am fine," he managed to say, his voice strained.
He endured the pain, each step a monumental effort as he made his way to the elevator. He pressed the up button and waited, the seconds stretching into an eternity. The doors finally slid open, and a group of women in short dresses spilt out, surrounding a chubby man. One of the women, her eyes glazed with drunkenness, touched his sleeve and giggled.
"Hey, handsome," she slurred.
Xiang Yu ignored her, his focus solely on staying upright. The women giggled as they stumbled away, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Using the wall as a crutch, he entered the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. He leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes, trying to clear his head.
As he glanced at his reflection in the mirrored walls, he noticed the rings on his fingers and the tattoos that adorned his skin. He was still his dazzling self, but the markings were different.
Instead of the intricate patterns unique to him as the Demon King, a dragon tattoo now coiled around the front of his neck, its slithering body peeking down his half-unbuttoned shirt. Other tattoos decorated his arms and chest, but he couldn’t focus on them. Blood trickled from his nose, and he wiped it away just as the elevator doors opened.
He stepped out into a passageway where couples were paired up, lost in their own worlds. He could have exited through the packed dance floor, but the thought of the loud music made his head throb even more. Instead, he chose the back door, staggering out into the night.
The cool air hit his face, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat inside. The music from the club was a distant roar now, but it still pounded in his skull.