A World Of Grey (Legend of Korra)

Chapter 28

Bao could practically hear the drink flowing as he reached the bottom of the steps, sounds of drunken laughter filtering through the door into the stairwell. He made a small shrugging motion with his shoulders as he moved forwards, lifting his hands to straighten out the creases of his jacket. He pushed open the door and stepped through into the small, narrow space on the other side. The sharp, unpleasant aroma of urine wafting underneath the toilet door and stinging his nostrils, Bao quickly moved ahead towards the door directly ahead of him, pushing it open.

The full volume of the night's raucous patrons hit him as he stepped back into the bar proper, having merely passed through it several hours ago. He had no desire to stay and drown his lucidity in alcohol along with them, as was suggested in a severely slurred voice when a dark, stout bottle was pushed into his hands. He preferred the company of the powerful and civilised, men wit h whom he shared a similar desire in slaking a multitude of raw, lustful desires with an array of wholly compliant and beautiful woman. This common rabble served only to curl his upper lip. Bao pushed the already poorly balanced man away.

Two men were on their feet near the counter, voices steadily rising. Several others were congregated on stools in front of the bar or standing and leaning against it, jeering and slinging slurred words of encouragement towards the pair. Bao lengthened his stride in order to step past them before their inevitable physical confrontation took place. One of the men jabbed the other in the chest as he neared them, causing him to rock momentarily backwards on his heel. And then just as Bao stepped around the back of them, the offended man recovered his balance and snarled.

Bao swore when a body collided hard with him, taking him off-balance and sending him hurtling into a table. Pain flashing through his hip as it struck the table's edge, Bao found himself smothered by the bodies of the scuffling men, fists swinging blindly all around him. Infuriated and cursing profusely, he began shoving and tearing at the blur of fleshy shapes around him in an effort to pull free of the chaos.

It did not take long for the fighting men to be pulled apart, gratingly loud laughter peeling around them from the others who dragged them away from each other and, more importantly, from Bao. He hissed when he felt pain welling just beneath his eye, having taken a stray hit. Seething, he batted away the hand offered to help him up, pulling himself roughly to his feet.

"Better get ice on that, my man," a boisterous voice suggested to him from among the group, coloured none too subtly with amusement. Bao ignored the man, scowling as he sharply tugged the wrinkles and creases from his jacket. Something slipping from his pocket in the process suddenly drew his attention, his hand snatching at it automatically. It was an envelope, small and stiff.

Bao paused, staring down at the thing in his hands for a long moment, utterly nonplussed. Slowly, he looked up from it, turning towards the men once again congregated at the bar. But they had already forgotten about him, once more jovial as a man carelessly wiping the edge of his tousled scarf across a split lower lip waved a twenty yuan note at the bartender. His new best friends cheered at his demand for another round of drinks.

A surreal sensation began to settle upon him, though after a moment Bao shook his head in an effort to dispel it. He was certain that the envelope had not been on his person earlier on in the evening, but it was likely that it had been slipped into his pocket while he dwelt in the private club above the bar. As exclusive as it was, there were still some things that required being communicated more quietly. Information was and always would be a sensitive commodity.

Then again, it could simply have been a private message slipped to him by Nikka. Bao had always been particular fond of her. She was an adventurous little thing, routinely draping her slender, curvaceous form onto his arm the moment he set foot into the club. He enjoyed the way she pouted when he disengaged himself from her, announcing his desire to be entertained by a different girl for the evening. The spark of jealously in her eye always served to stir a powerful, primal sense of lust within him. Perhaps this was her doing, then. Maybe she desired a little more of his particular brand of punishment.