Dragon Kings of the Orient (The Myth Hunter Book 2)

by Percival Constantine

  Nezha shook his head. “Yes, I get it.”

  “And the arrow’s pointing at you!”

  “I get it.”

  “The shirt says you’re stupid!”

  “I said I get it,” said Nezha in exasperation. “It’s not that funny.”

  Sun Wukong hopped in front of his old friend, landing in a crouch. He looked up at Nezha in a mixture of confusion and hurt feelings. “What do you mean it’s not funny?”

  “It’s an old joke these days.”

  The Monkey King looked down at the shirt and frowned. “...but it’s new to me.” He hopped back on the railing, seemingly forgetting all about Nezha’s snub against his new favorite joke. “Isn’t it amazing? I can’t believe everything I missed!”

  “Look, what’s important now is we find the Dragon Kings,” said Nezha. “Have you had your fill of exploring the new world yet?”

  “That’s a stupid question,” said Sun Wukong. “I haven’t even seen all China has to offer! I can’t wait to see the other countries!” He flipped his orientation on the railing and pulled out several brochures from the pockets of his shorts. They were all travel brochures. “Japan, England, America, France, Australia! I want to go to all these places and more!”

  “Later,” said Nezha. “First, we need to worry about the Dragon Kings. It won’t be long before they discover you're free.”

  A man in a suit flanked by a few security guards came onto the terrace, walking towards Sun Wukong and Nezha. The man in the suit, an administrator who was a thin, older gentleman with large, round glasses spoke first.

  “Excuse me sir, could you please get off the railing?” he asked.

  Sun Wukong bent backwards, looking over the edge of the Sky Terrace. He then looked at the administrator and shook his head. “No thanks, I like it up here.”

  The administrator sighed. “Sir, I’ll have to ask you to either get off the railing or these men will escort you off the premises.”

  “Escorts? Really?” asked Sun Wukong with a beaming smile. He patted Nezha on the shoulder. “I read about those! This is gonna be fun!”

  “No, not that—” The administrator just faced the guards. “Forget it. Please get rid of him.”

  One of the guards stepped forward but Sun Wukong gripped the railing with his hands and used it to bear his weight as he swung his legs forward and struck the guard in the chin. He pounced as the second guard came forward, flipping in the air and doing a handstand on the guard’s shoulders. Sun Wukong flipped again, bringing the guard around over his head and crashing down against the terrace floor.

  The other two guards stood in stunned amazement at what they had just witnessed. Sun Wukong hopped on his hands and spun his legs around like helicopter blades, his outstretched legs knocking both those two down.

  Now, he regarded the administrator with his fiery, golden gaze, the eyes burning even in the shadow of his hat’s brim. At first, the Monkey King had a visible scowl on his face. He pounced and landed next to the administrator, the scowl quickly transformed to a smile and then he threw his arm around the frightened man.

  “Look!” he said, motioning to the shirt. “Now you’re the stupid one! Isn’t that a funny joke?”

  The administrator’s face was one of abject terror. Sun Wukong playfully poked the administrator with his elbow. “C’mon, don’t you think this is a funny shirt?”

  The administrator hastily nodded his head. “Y-yes! Funny, so very funny!”

  “So why aren’t you laughing?” asked Sun Wukong, his smile starting to diminish. The administrator responded with a nervous laugh and Sun Wukong followed with his own boisterous one.

  Nezha, however, lowered his face, covering it with his hand. “Are you finished yet?”

  “Oh fine,” said Sun Wukong, walking back to Nezha. “You’re not as much fun as you used to be.”

  “I just think we should move. The more time we waste, the more time the Dragon Kings have to find out what’s happened.”

  “So who’s first on the list?”

  “Ao Jun. He’s still a king, but sits on a different throne. Now he runs one of the world’s largest shipping companies. And his main office is located in Kowloon.”

  “So what are we waiting for?” asked Sun Wukong. “Let’s move on out!”

  He flipped towards the entrance to the Sky Terrace with Nezha running to catch up. “One more thing,” said Nezha.

  “What?”

  “Take off that damn shirt.”

  Sun Wukong blew a raspberry. “Spoilsport!”

  CHAPTER 5

  Asami hadn’t told Elisa much about why she needed to come to Hong Kong. What she did say is that it involved a demigod known as Sun Wukong, the Monkey King. Asami’s employer arranged for Elisa and Max to come to Hong Kong via private jet, which meant no problems at customs for Elisa’s ancient weaponry.

  The jet was small but extremely well-appointed. The leather-backed chairs were more comfortable than most beds, the kind of chairs that you fell to sleep in the minute you sat down. And Elisa had done just that. Among the other creature comforts were a fully-stocked bar, hi-definition television set with an OnDemand system that provided access to the latest movies, video games and a host of television channels streamed via satellite. There were also connections for laptop computers to access the Internet through the satellite hook-up.

  Max didn’t pay much attention to the comforts. He settled into his seat and using his laptop, downloaded whatever information he could find on Sun Wukong. He spent several hours entirely engrossed in his reading.

  “This is interesting,” he said.

  Elisa stirred slightly in her chair. She was awake but tried to feign sleep, hoping Max would just let her be.

  “You know, if you don’t give me your attention, I’ll just keep rambling on anyway.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled and crossed to his side of the plane. He turned the laptop on the fold-out table toward her. Elisa began scanning through the information.

  “This Monkey King seems like one tough character,” she said.

  “According to the legends, he defeated an army of celestial warriors, set the Cloud Horses free, stole several mystical artifacts, and even managed to erase his name from the Book of Life and Death,” said Max. “The Buddhist and Taoist forces combined weren’t able to contain him for more than fifty days. It was a Buddha who finally tricked him into being captured and trapped him within a mountain.”

  “This can’t be the same guy,” said Elisa. “The Monkey King, wasn’t he a hero?”

  “That was five hundred years after he was trapped in a mountain,” said Max. “According to legend, he protected Xuanzang on his quest to retrieve the Buddhist sutras.”

  “Yeah, Journey to the West,” said Elisa. “He was granted Buddhahood, wasn’t he?”

  Max closed his laptop. “And that’s where the legend stops. There’s nothing I’ve been able to dig up in the past several hours about Sun Wukong after he became a Buddha. Just what exactly did Asami tell you about this?”

  “Only that the Monkey King had broken free from his prison and was prepared to kill her employer.”

  “And she didn’t say who her employer was?”

  Elisa shook her said. “She said we’d meet him once we arrived in Kowloon.”

  ***

  The plane landed and a limousine waited for Elisa and Max directly on the tarmac. Standing in front of it, hands stuffed in the pockets of her pin-stripe, charcoal-gray suit, was a Japanese woman. The fedora hat she wore matched the suit and beneath the jacket was a red shirt and black tie. She had a playful smile on her slender face and bright, copper eyes, and dangling from her lips was a long cigarette holder.

  “Elisa Hill and Maxwell Finch,” she said. “Welcome to Hong Kong.”

  “Pleasure to see you again, Asami,” said Max. “I never quite got the chance to thank you properly for the first time we met.”

  “The secrets of Lemuria are safe, that’s all I wanted out of the
deal,” said Asami.

  During the quest for Lemuria, Asami and Elisa crossed paths. Although she looked human, Asami was actually one of the yokai, spirits from Japanese mythology. Specifically, Asami was kitsune, a magical creature that was a cross between fox and mortal. While Elisa had pursued Lemuria, Asami liberated Max from the clutches of the Order.

  “You ready to explain what this is all about?” asked Elisa.

  Asami sucked lightly on the end of the cigarette holder. “Am I ever?”

  “Pretty much what I expected,” said Elisa.

  Asami motioned to the car. “Hop in, I’ll take you to meet our boss.”

  “Your boss,” said Elisa. “Max and I have only agreed to speak with him, that’s it.”

  “Oh please, Hill. If you weren’t already sold on this case, you wouldn’t have come all the way to Hong Kong.”

  “Fine,” said Elisa, taking the bag of weapons from off her back. She threw it at Asami, who was taken aback and dropped her cigarette holder as the bag struck her. “Be a doll and put that in the trunk, would you?”

  Asami uttered a low growl.

  ***

  The home of White Tiger International is one of the tallest buildings in Kowloon City. It glittered in the afternoon sun like a towering crystal in the center of the city. The floors and walls were all made of glass, even the furniture. The elevators provided a view of the harbor and The Peak. Only certain room within the skyscraper were concealed through the use of fogged glass, such as restrooms and a few private offices.

  The elevator let the trio off at the top floor. Asami led Elisa and Max down the corridor past several rows of cubicles and desks until they came to a pair of large doors that were fogged. The secretary who sat out front nodded to Asami, understanding she had free access.

  Asami opened the doors and inside the spacious office was a large, clear desk. The legs of the desk were carved in the form of crystal tigers and the man behind it wore a pristine suit so white it nearly blinded any who laid eyes on him. He had a shock of short, white hair neatly combed back and looked to be in his fifties or possibly sixties. Despite this, he had a tall, lean frame and seemed like he could take on a man half his age in a fair fight and come out on top. On an opposing wall was a large, ceremonial sword, the hilt of which was adorned with the head of a dragon.

  “Are these the advisors you brought in?” he asked.

  Asami nodded. “Professors Elisa Hill and Maxwell Finch of Burroughs University in America.”

  “I’ve heard the names,” said the man. “But not in connection with academia.”

  He came around to the front of his desk, sizing the two up carefully. Elisa did the same.

  “You’re myth hunters,” he said.

  “I’m actually retired,” said Max.

  The man looked at Elisa. “Then you’re the one Asami speaks so highly of.”

  “Oh really?” asked Elisa, tossing a glance at the kitsune.

  Asami shrugged. “He exaggerates.”

  “I hear tell you’re the reason the mysteries of Lemuria remain buried.”

  “Not by choice but necessity,” said Elisa. “Asami works for you, huh?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “That means you’re not human.”

  “What?” asked Max.

  “I know Asami works for some higher power, someone who wanted the secrets of the Naa’cal to stay a secret. She was working for you, wasn’t she?”

  Asami scowled. “That’s none of your—”

  The man in white held up his hand. “Asami, please. I believe we can trust Ms. Hill. You’re right, of course, I’m not human. My name is Ao Jun.”

  “One of the Dragon Kings of the Orient,” said Max.

  Ao Jun nodded. “My brothers and I are the ones who control the waters of Asia.”

  “And the Monkey King?” asked Elisa. “How does he fit into all this?”

  “Sun Wukong escaped his prison recently, a prison we trapped him in. And now, he wants us dead.”

  “That doesn’t add up,” said Max. “Sun Wukong became a Buddha and there’s no further information about him in any of the legends.”

  Ao Jun smiled. “I see you’ve done your homework. In truth, there was no further record made because no one wanted the shame of knowing a Buddha had gone rogue. Not long after Sun Wukong was granted his promotion he attempted to usurp the throne of the Jade Emperor. We tried to kill him...”

  “But he erased his name from the Book of Life and Death,” said Elisa.

  “Correct,” said Ao Jun. “So the only way to defeat the Monkey King is to contain him. And now, centuries later, he’s escaped once more. And he’ll come after us for revenge.”

  “You’re gods,” said Elisa. “You can’t stop him?”

  “Sun Wukong took on the forces of the Jade Emperor single-handedly and won,” said Ao Jun. “The only thing that’s ever been able to capture him is trickery. And that’s one skill you mortals have far greater mastery of than any god or demigod.”

  “Almost any,” said Asami.

  “And if Sun Wukong wins?” asked Elisa.

  “If my brothers and I were to perish, all of Asia would be swallowed by the oceans,” said Ao Jun. “Is that reason enough to help?”

  “Just asking,” muttered Elisa.

  The phone rang and Ao Jun went to his desk to answer it. As he listened through the receiver, his face turned almost as white as his suit. He carefully set the phone back down on the cradle.

  “He’s here.”

  “Sun Wukong?” asked Asami.

  Ao Jun nodded.

  Elisa set her bag down on the floor and opened it up, revealing the ancient weaponry contained within.

  “Time to go to work.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Sun Wukong strode purposefully into the lobby of White Tiger International, a broad grin on his face. His long hair was pulled back to proudly showcase his simian features. He wore loose-fitting pants and a short robe, but his feet and hands were bare.

  He strolled to the front desk, and tapped his fingers on the glass top. The young receptionist wearing a headset glanced up at him briefly. “Just one moment, please.” She looked back at her computer, but paused and slowly turned her head up again, her mouth hanging open.

  He winked. “Hi. Would you let your boss know that Sun Wukong is here to kill him?”

  “Umm...o-of course,” she stammered in response. She quickly entered in the extension for Ao Jun’s office and passed on the message. There came no response from the other end, just the sound of a click. The receptionist slowly turned her eyes back up to the Monkey King. “He...umm...he didn't...”

  “Respond?” asked Sun Wukong.

  The receptionist nodded. “Right. He just—he hung up.”

  Sun Wukong nodded in understanding. “I see.” He balled the hand he had been tapping on the counter with into a fist, then shattered the glass desk with it. The receptionist shrieked and pushed her chair back, her phone, papers and computer equipment slamming to the ground.

  “He should know I don’t respond well to disrespect,” said Sun Wukong.

  Security guards approached the area, drawing their guns. Sun Wukong held up his arms in surrender. One of the guards slowly approached him, but once he was within range, Sun Wukong grabbed his arm with one hand, his gun in the other, and flipped the guard onto his back. Sun Wukong had moved so quickly that the guard hadn't had a chance. Now Sun Wukong looked at the weapon in his hand with curiosity.

  “So...this is a gun...”

  “PUT IT DOWN!” shouted another guard.

  “This?” he asked, pointing to the gun. “But I’ve only just gotten it.”

  “Put it down now! Do it or we’ll drop you!”

  Sun Wukong blew a raspberry. The guards opened fire but the Monkey King ducked, swerved and flipped to avoid the bullets. And he made it look easy. When the guards had exhausted their rounds, Sun Wukong stood upright and aimed his own gun. He spun in a circle as he
pulled the trigger several times. Once he finished his rotation, each of the guards fell to the ground, a bullet wound dead-center in their foreheads.

  He looked at the gun again and dismantled it almost instantly. “That wasn’t as fun as I expected. Guns end the fight too soon. I miss my staff.”

  Sun Wukong wandered towards the elevator and pushed the button. He stared at an imaginary watch on his wrist as he tapped his foot impatiently. Glancing up again, he saw the receptionist huddled in a corner, sobbing as she stared at the dead guards.

  “Oh relax, all mortals die,” he said.

  The elevator chime called his attention back to the doors. When it opened, two women stood there. One of them was Japanese and dressed in a pinstripe suit and possessed copper eyes that burned brightly once she fixed her view on him. She jumped from the elevator, pouncing on him with an animalistic growl that seemed peculiar coming from human lips.

  Sun Wukong rolled with the ferocious attack, and managed to kick her off. He flipped back to his feet. Asami regained her feet and held out her hands, her fingers elongating and red fur growing on them. Her nails became claws and she opened her mouth to reveal fangs.

  “Kitsune, huh?” asked Sun Wukong. “Don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking one of you out.”

  “And you never will.” Asami leapt at him, her claws going for his throat.

  Sun Wukong bent backwards so her hand passed harmlessly over him. He planted his hands on the floor and brought his feet around in a scissor-kick. His body twisted until he was back on his feet and Asami lay on the ground.

  “Wanna bet?” he asked.

  Asami growled but before she could attack again, Sun Wukong gestured and a massive gust of wind arose, shattering windows and blowing open the doors, and these titanic winds blew Asami, who left long claw-marks in the floor, into the far wall.

  Elisa advanced on Sun Wukong next, wielding a pair of katara daggers. They were lightweight Indian push daggers characterized by the horizontal hilt. Sun Wukong assessed his second opponent. This one appeared to be of mixed ancestry with long dark hair and crystal-blue eyes. She thrust with one of the katara, but Sun Wukong could dodge bullets, and it was easy to duck her strike. He launched into her from his crouched position, driving his head into her abdomen and pushing her back ten feet.