"Either you're a fool or an even bigger chibai, Zac," said a Chinese woman in her forties named Pua Fong Mei, dressed in all black and tailored sharp enough to cut glass.
A thin trail of smoke drifted from her lips as she exhaled from her traditional pipe, the scent of sandalwood filling the dimly lit room.
"You know how powerful Shen Goddem is? It's like facing death's father's father."
"Oh, I know," replied Zac Tucker, rising slowly from the velvet sofa, straightening his coat. His eyes gleamed with something between madness and brilliance. "And that's why I decided to bring them in."
The syndicate leaders sitting around the mahogany table froze. Cigars halted midair. Their gazes locked on Zac with growing suspicion and dread.
"By them… who?" one of them finally asked, voice trembling.
A smirk crawled across Zac's face. "Hehehe... Khontaar."
Chairs scraped against the marble floor as every syndicate leader stood up in unison. Panic flashed in their eyes.
"FOOL!!! Are you asking for death?!" shouted Aziz, the drug lord of the East Syndicate, slamming his fist against the table. His golden rings clinked against the surface, echoing through the chamber.
"Calm yourself, Aziz," said another, Vinny Don Ching, a man who ran nightclubs and women trafficking rings. His voice carried authority and mock composure, but even his hands trembled slightly.
"As for you, Zac Tucker," Vinny continued, gesturing with his fingers in a dismissive aura quote, "you're calling your own death. Shen Goddem we can handle—barely, on an even ground. But to bring them in? The Khontaar? Land of darkness, of savages, of lust and power. Hell, even a monarchy still exists in that dystopian wasteland."
"I know," Zac said calmly, his tone chillingly confident. "The Khontaar monarchy still stands—and it's not easy to contact them. But I did. Today. Before coming here."
The room fell silent. Every eye narrowed.
"What… did you do?" Vinny asked, his voice low, full of restrained fury.
"Simple," Zac replied, stepping closer to the table. "I offered them Malaysia's country rights."
The silence shattered like glass.
Every syndicate leader drew their weapon. Guns cocked. Metal clicked. The air turned electric with betrayal and rage.
"GET OUT!!! TRAITOR!!!" one screamed.
"We may have done twisted things, Zac—but we NEVER betray our motherland, you damn traitor!!!"
Zac didn't flinch. He expected this. A twisted grin spread across his lips.
"Oh please," he scoffed. "How long will you all stay hiding in the shadows of—"
BANG!
A bullet sliced through the air, grazing past Zac's hair and punching into the wall behind him. Smoke curled from the barrel of Vinny's gun.
"This is your warning," Vinny snarled. "Get out—and never show your face here again, traitor!"
Zac smirked, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Fine," he said coolly. "Let's see how you all like it soon enough."
He turned and strode out, his shoes clicking against the marble floor, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.
The syndicate room descended into chaos. Leaders shouted, argued, and paced in panic. The weight of what Zac had done hung heavy in the smoky air.
"I recommend we call Shen Goddem," Vinny said finally, breaking the noise. His expression hardened. "I'll put my syndicate title on the line for it."
He raised his metal title plate, then tossed it onto the table with a loud clang.
"Fool!" Another leader barked. "Do you think Shen Goddem is an army? Khontaar is different! They are barbarians! And their women—beautiful, yes—but manipulative scum!"
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Aziz slammed his own status plate down beside Vinny's. His voice lowered, thick with conviction.
"Saya mungkin seorang penjenayah, tetapi saya bukan pengkhianat negara ibu saya."
(I may be a criminal, but I am no traitor to my motherland.)
Even the thickest smoke could not hide his sincerity.
Pua Fong Mei chuckled softly, her laughter smooth as silk and sharp as a knife. She flicked her pipe aside, stood up, and tossed her title plate onto the pile.
"别问, 就算我一个马来西亚人, 她的罪行也有限度. 背叛祖国马来西亚, 这话从来都不在我的词汇表里."
(Don't ask. Even a Malaysian like me has limits to her crimes. Betraying our homeland Malaysia was never in my vocabulary.)
She turned to leave but paused at the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder, her eyes glinting beneath the dim lights.
"I recommend Lady Tsuna," she said quietly. "She is one of the few who ever taught Shen Goddem."
Vinny frowned. "And what exactly did this Lady Tsuna teach Shen Goddem?"
Pua smiled faintly, lips curling as she blew out the last trail of smoke.
"War."
"War?" Vinny asked, confusion spreading across the table. The others exchanged uneasy glances.
Pua Fong Mei exhaled a slow stream of sandalwood smoke before speaking, her tone weary yet sharp.
"Lady Tsuna was…" she paused, letting out a quiet sigh, "…a former Queen of Khontaar. Before her own damned children betrayed her—dethroned her—and cast her out like garbage."
The room fell into stunned silence. Even the hum of the air conditioner felt heavy.
"Shen Goddem found her when he was just nineteen,"
Pua continued, stepping toward the center of the room. The smoke swirled around her face, half-hiding the sorrow behind her eyes.
"He gave her shelter, a roof, and loyalty. In return, Lady Tsuna treated him like the son she never had. She entrusted him with everything—her knowledge, her tactics, her history… even her darkness."
She flicked the ashes off her pipe, her gaze turning cold and deliberate as she looked at each of them one last time.
"Lady Tsuna also has another name," she said, her voice lowering to a near whisper. "Despite being a dethroned queen… she was once known as The Lady of War."
Vinny's eyes widened. Aziz clenched his jaw. The weight of her words settled in the room like a storm about to break.
"I recommend," Pua added, turning toward the door, "that you get your information from her—before you even think about seeking Shen Goddem."
Her heels echoed against the marble floor as she left, the door creaking shut behind her. Smoke lingered where she had stood, faintly glowing under the low lights.
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Vinny broke the silence.
"Where can we find her?" he asked, turning toward Aziz.
Aziz leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. "Japan," he said simply.
Vinny raised a brow. "Japan?"
Aziz nodded. "She's been living there for years. Opened a dojo in Kyoto, I heard. Trains the young ones—teaches them martial arts, discipline, and how to defend themselves."
He tapped the table with his finger, his voice lowering.
"But don't let that fool you. The Lady of War may have retired… but her fire never died."
Vinny stared at the smoke drifting toward the ceiling, the faint scent of sandalwood still hanging in the air.
"Then," he said grimly, "we better pray she still remembers mercy."
Meanwhile…
Somewhere in Kyoto, a soft morning breeze drifted through a quiet neighborhood.
In a small wooden house—humble but serene—surrounded by a neatly kept garden, the air carried the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass.
Birds chirped as the wind rustled through the tall stalks of golden wheat swaying in the meadow. It was peaceful, almost timeless.
The front door slid open with a gentle creak. A woman stepped out, stretching her arms above her head, her well-toned and voluptuous body silhouetted against the morning sun.
"Hmm… ahh," she sighed with a soft smile. "Time to work, Tsuna."
Her voice carried a warm, motherly tone as she began tending to her small garden—plucking weeds, trimming the bushes, humming an old Khontaar lullaby under her breath.
"Sigh… this peace," she murmured, smiling faintly. "Don't you think so, Shen Goddem?"
She didn't need to turn her head. She already knew.
A deep voice came from behind her. "It's been a while, Lady Tsuna."
She chuckled softly, plucking a bundle of wheat before glancing over her shoulder.
"Dear child, just call me Mother. You've earned it."
"Alright… Mother," Shen replied, his tone respectful yet warm.
"Ahahaha," she laughed gently, her voice filled with fondness. "How have you been?"
"It's been… alright," Shen said, his eyes distant.
Lady Tsuna paused, her gaze softening as she studied his expression. Years of experience told her something was wrong.
"Son," she said quietly, "you know I was once a mother. A real mother knows when her child isn't okay. Even if I'm not your real mother, I still wish you were my child instead of those Tucker families. Casting you out like that and—"
"Mother," Shen interrupted, his tone sharp but pained. "You promised. Never mention the Tuckers again."
Tsuna sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she nodded. "Ah, sorry. Old habits. Being forty-seven isn't a joke, you know."
She stood, brushed her hands clean, and walked back into the house. Moments later, she returned with two cups of steaming tea.
"Here," she said softly, handing one to him before sitting beside him on the porch. The wooden floor creaked slightly under their weight.
"You're going to get your suit dirty, you know," she teased lightly, swatting a few stray wheat stalks off his shoulder.
Shen smiled faintly. "Doesn't matter. As long as I get to see you… it's worth letting a little dust in."
Tsuna chuckled, her laughter calm and sincere. She took a sip of her tea, then turned to him with a more serious expression.
"Boy," she said gently but firmly, "speak. What's troubling you?"
The breeze stilled. Even the birds quieted, as if waiting for his answer.
---
Chapter 20 — End.