Eight Gangsters To The Eight Warlords (on A Hiatus)

Mehi-hoh: We Thought This Was It

An event like no other and a night to remember.

Skyscrapers like steel spikes pointed upwards into the depths of the inkiness of the night sky. The coldness the breeze carried made those not accustomed shake like leaves nevertheless the feeling inside our hearts shed luke-warmth and kept us spirited.

Though that might have been because of the countless glasses of wines offered to us as a toast to our success as the new heads of the world's greatest and only mafia branch to unite the world and overpower the monarchy. I mean so what could go wrong?

4 hours later

"So..." I wondered: "how could such a proud moment in our lives go so terribly wrong?!!

I remember!

Just moments ago, I recalled myself including six of the seven heirs of the U.W.M (United World Mafia) had arrived at a large building in which they would host the most respected event on the planet except Christmas that not only trended as the number one on the media charts for the past week but is widely renounced across the globe because it only happens once a century.

Sizing up a looming pair of oak doors. Guarded on each side by two, members of security, dressed smartly in black suits and shades that failed to hide their expressionless faces. Upon seeing us the guards turned and reached for what was usually door nobs or handles, but instead, both doors were adorned with two identical lion heads that had a single loop of metal inside their jaws.

With a sharp yank, both doors were parted presenting a young woman in her early twenties her long raven locks twisted and tied in a large bun was secured in several gorgeous gold pins and accessories, she was using the Korean simplicity in makeup that brought her natural beauty beautifully, a unique drawing of a small flame was drawn between her eyebrows and she was dressed in red from head to toe. She wore a short cheongsam that had a black silk base with red satin stitched beautifully across her upper body painting crimson blossom's across her chest, sides, and back, leaving only her stomach down to the hem untainted by the blossoms. Furthermore, on her right thigh perched a golden phoenix, its wings outstretched, seeming as if the flapping of its wings showered golden light along the edges of the blossoms. Her feet slipped inside black six-inch heels adorned with golden patterns of blossoms were tapping the floor impatiently, she must have been waiting what must have been hours until all of us had arrived. This woman was one of the seven heirs, the heiress of the Asia Branch, the branch of Yu, and it was her family's turn to host the ceremony on behalf of the mafia this century: Gong Zhongying.

As required, the hall was large enough to hold a few hundred people at a time and was still, to my satisfaction, relatively spacious. An admirable quality in China's advanced modern architecture system. I peered up at the small glittering white sun attached to the ceiling- which to my disbelief turned out to be an unexpected distance from the ground. If measured by a trained eye it was around seven or so meters high. Other from the glamorous lighting above, below was not far from comparison- the circular tables were covered in exquisite golden cloth and were spotted around the room with straight back chairs surrounding them in sixes or eights. At the center of every table was an individual or maybe a handful of a rare species of plant, planted in an elegant china blue vase, for example: near to the left corner of the room a single Middle Mist sat alone; it could only be found in Britain nowadays. There were famous sweet beverages like champagne kept chilly in steel buckets of ice, Chinese cuisine on spinning glass tabletops, and ceramic and silver cutlery. Just the sight made one's eyes widen in awe.

A hand landing on my shoulder somehow gently pulled my gaze away from the scenery and back to the present. Kamaria was positioned half a step next to me as perusal and what was present on her normally solemn face was a knowing expression. As she saw the pout my lips had unknowingly formed, the corner of her lips perked up a millimeter before melting into what should be her face when she's trying to resist my tempting charms: a stoic expression. She gave me a comforting pat then turned slightly to the right indicating a set of steel doors, also guarded by two security.