Tropical Beasts (1)
Time flew by, and the day of my departure from Chinese soil arrived sooner than expected.
"To think you're leaving so suddenly...."
Liu Linfei gazed up at me from my embrace, her eyes brimming with tears ready to spill at any moment. I'd mulled it over before, but as a physical phenomenon acting on the sympathetic nervous system, there's no meaningful difference between the tension of a once-in-a-lifetime windfall and the bodily excitement of falling in love. Both trigger the same hormonal cascade. Anyone who's hit a massive jackpot at a casino or clutched a winning lottery ticket, feeling lightning strike their brain, would agree from experience. That similarity sparks a mechanical glitch in the brain: the emotional transfer from tension to excitement. That's the essence of the misattribution of arousal, the swaying bridge effect.
From the infinity pool overlooking the entire cityscape, to the precarious Ferris wheel atop Guangzhou Tower, to scenic spots at high altitudes that left her breathless, to luxury brand corners in department stores with VIP escorts. Every time, amid the tension of endlessly awaiting my call, Linfei's glitch had accumulated with each meeting in new locations. Reinforced by pleasure recall and classical conditioning, at least by my diagnosis as the practitioner, her feelings—born from deception—had solidified into complete truth. To this animal, I was tension incarnate, a pounding heart, the source of irreplaceable pleasure and happiness in finding a mate.
The hunt was over, and the prey tamed. I pulled out a handkerchief and gently dabbed her tear-streaked eyes.
"Don't cry. I hate seeing women cry."
The word "hate" worked again this time.
"Was it a lie when you said meeting once a year would be fine?"
At my question, Linfei whimpered in reply.
"I was prepared for it, but... but I didn't know it'd hurt this much...."
Of course she didn't. What she'd imagined was one of the Inuit's ideal lifestyles: near-total luxury and freedom for the rest of the year, barring a couple meetings. North American Inuit live that way right now. Linfei had just layered professional success atop that dream, never imagining she'd be the one hunted in reverse.
I placed the handkerchief in her trembling hand as she fought back tears, feigning calm tenderness.
"That's why I never start a family. I hate making people wait."
Linfei's eyes widened in surprise.
"You've never... married?"
"And?"
"I just assumed you had...."
The delusion of someone whose mind had always pictured herself as a noble's concubine from the start. I felt her grip tighten on my clothes. Even if concubines were treated well on this continent of depraved desires, there was no reason not to rage if the principal wife's seat stood empty. Having tossed her another reason to cling to me, I smoothly shifted the conversation.
"Things are unsettled in the world, so take care of yourself until we meet again. Stay away from dangerous places."
"Yes."
"I'll summon you now and then, so don't be too sad."
"Summon me? Where?"
"Wherever I am. Whenever either of us has time."
"Ah...."
"What, you don't like it?"
"Of course not! I love it, I really do! Call me anywhere! Don't worry about my schedule at all! No matter what, I'll drop everything and come to you!"
"It'll be tiring flying every time."
"It's fine! If I can see you even briefly, who cares about a stupid plane?"
"Got it. Take this, then."
"Huh?"
Linfei blinked her teary eyes and took the car's smart key.
"This is...."
"The key to the car you rode in on. It's already registered, and the plates should be changed by now. Just drive it around. Open the glove compartment, and you'll find the paperwork plus another gift."
"Another gift?"
"If a man gives his heart to a woman, he has to take financial responsibility for her."
Even as her eyes reddened, a smile of emotion spread across Linfei’s lips. Probably the words she'd most wanted to hear from me—which was exactly why I'd said them.
"You should go now. Boarding time's soon."
A lonely announcement echoed through the international airport, no busier than when we'd first arrived as early birds. Linfei hesitated, glancing at her watch, then threw her arms around me with all her strength, leaving a long farewell kiss. It was passionate enough to draw glances from passersby.
Only after a while did she pull away, her breath warm against my lips as she choked back sobs.
"I'll wait for you. Day and night, missing only you. So please don't make me wait too long."
"I'll try."
"Can I message you often? I know you're busy, so calls might be tough, but texts at least...."
"As long as late replies don't bother you."
"They won't!"
The number Linfei had wasn't my real one. Messages and emails would route through the secretarial office and HQ support team. Most chats would be meaningless emotional exchanges anyway, and anything worth remembering could come as a summary report. Calls could rely on voice modulation tech—we'd invested in it for a reason. The support kids would welcome the new work.
As I passed the gate, Linfei's voice rang out behind me.
"I love you! I love you!"
Entering the boarding bridge, Kyung-tae let out an unnecessary exclamation.
"Whoa, she's head over heels, hyungnim. Total pure love."
"You mocking me?"
"Me? Mock you, hyungnim? No way, what kinda talk is that.... Nah, this Kim Kyung-tae is just blown away that you're perfect even in this department too."
"......"
"No joke, that girl is smitten with you. I was worried since you hate this stuff so much.... Heh, needless concern. As expected, hand anything to hyungnim and it's done flawlessly—my respect deepens by the day—"
"Enough."
"Yessir."
Cutting off Kyung-tae's incurable ass-kissing, I felt psychological fatigue settling in for the journey ahead.
Sultana Chandra Kirana's base in Jambi had no international flights. The nearest was Sultan Mahmud Badaruddin II Airport in Palembang, but there were no direct flights from Guangzhou or Hong Kong. To reach Jambi, we'd transit through Jakarta and Palembang, spending nearly a full day in planes including layovers. Then a four-hour drive from the airport to the Sultana's operations. Factoring in a route plan midway and passport swaps to launder our trail, exhaustion was inevitable from the start.
The Sultana had offered to come south to greet her "friend" traveling far, but I'd politely declined. I wanted to see the submersible construction site near her ops with my own eyes. Skipping a core business element uninspected was failure as a businessman, fugitive, and hunter.
Small consolation: the code with remaining puzzles to solve. Zero wasted seconds was impossible in human time management, but the weak must always minimize it. Sinking into first class, I closed my eyes and entered mage's meditation.
At Jakarta's Soekarno-Hatta Airport, our mid-transit stop, I passed enhanced manned immigration as Korean Awakened ability user Li Gyu-hwi. By then, most major airports worldwide included Awakening checks in procedures. International agreement mandated marking passports for it, with armed ability users stationed everywhere to scan entrants' mana fields. Awakened were dangerous even unarmed—a natural precaution.
The process was stricter but not arduous. Not as cushy as China's public security favors, but Korean passports ranked high in trust, and consenting to checks on criminal records, job info, main account balances, and credit let us skip much of the safety eval. Gold is the universal key.
The officer, seeing my alias account's massive balance and clean history, beamed amiably.
"Here to meet a friend?"
"Yes."
"How long will you stay?"
"No more than a month, at most."
Per plan, not even a week—but better to pad for surprises.
"A month, a month...."
The officer nodded at his monitor.
"Good. All foreign Aetherists must report location thrice daily via smartphone app, but deposit 500,000 rupiah daily—15 million total—for a 30-day waiver. Minus 1% admin fee, reclaim the rest on exit. What do you say?"
Since we spoke English, he used "Aetherist" for ability user—the term Britain pushed lately. Sometimes "Etherist." Round Table archmages called mana aether originally. English speakers preferred "hunter," but not all ability users hunted, even if high-risk hunts defined them.
500,000 rupiah daily was under 4,000 won. I slid my card through the window.
"Can I pay with this?"
"Of course!"
He looked thrilled—probably tied to performance metrics. Amid global recession, nations scrambled for forex liquidity; Indonesia too.
Post-payment, more guidance.
"Even with deposit, install the app. Follow my lead: scan this QR code first...."
Installing this nonsense app grated, but unavoidable now. And with subordinates, hiding my mana field meant little anyway.
Confirming install, he recited warnings.
"Delete only via exit authentication code. Premature tampering triggers international ability user protocols: detention and deportation. Understood?"
"Understood."
"Involvement in incidents or crimes as an Awakened may forfeit part or all deposit, beyond official penalties. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Extend via in-app if overstaying. Got it?"
"......Got it."
"All set. Welcome to Nusantara, land of a thousand islands. Enjoy your happy time here."
Passport back, I exited to baggage claim. Subordinates who'd gone ahead had our bags and set a discreet perimeter, waiting for the rest including me. Off in the distance, the Sultana's welcomer stood out: the man who always doubled as interpreter and local secretary whenever I came.
Spotting me, he bowed deeply.
"Selamat malam. Long time no see, Bapak Anonimitas."
Bapak meant "father," a honorific for high-status men; Anonimitas, the unnamed. The Sultana's crew, long-term partners, had long seen through my false identities.
I nodded back.
"Long time, Krut Wijaya."
Then scanned around.
"Where are your men? Came alone?"
My "men" meant the international business sales staff handling pre-deal coordination with the Sultana. They should've come too, properly.