The clan residence was three stories tall, and from what Arthur recalled, should have looked almost exactly like most of the other buildings on this block. The general pattern was a big structure, but unlike the office buildings, these hotel types had small Juliet balconies—plus bigger balconies for the top floor—and a single main entrance. Not much in terms of decoration, just a wood-and-brick outer layer with some clay cladding and grey paint. Boring as hell.
Overall, their clan’s new building was similar to that general design, but it was in the details that made it look so different. Rather than wood and brick, the structure was made of gray stone, each block thick and imposing. The balconies railing were metal instead of wood; the filigree added a little aesthetic touch to them as well as to drain pipes and gutters along the roof.
Even more startling was the entrance: double doors so tall they nearly stretched to the roof, and impressive golden knockers upon the banded metal. The entire building screamed of both security and comfort.
“What does it say on the top?” one of the bystanders asked her friend, peering over the heads to read the inscription above the doors.
“Uhh . . . I can’t be reading that right,” her friend said.
“Why? What’s wrong?” the girl asked, elbowing the man. “Tell me!”
“The Benevolent Durians.” Frowning, he shook his head. “I’m sure that’s what it says but . . . durian?”
“I like durians!” she said.
“Yeah, but do you want to be a durian?” the man said.
Arthur shook his head. He had no time to deal with these people or their thoughts. Rather, he wanted to check out his building and the Tower guard that was supposedly assigned to it. Perhaps he could make use of the guard.
So thinking, he pushed his way through the crowd. Yao Jing moved past him after a few feet to help guide the group through. Their large number of thuggish-looking men moving through with purpose was enough to make the crowd part, few wanting to start a fight. Or perhaps the crowd wanted to see what would happen when they arrived at the entrance.
After all, entertainment was always hard to come by, without the Internet or TV.
Breaking through the crowd, Arthur noticed Yao Jing step aside to let him take the lead now. He came up to the door and then pushed on it. The door refused to budge, nor was there a visible lock. Cocking his head to the side, ignoring the jeering suggestions of those who had tried the same, he eventually used the knocker.
“Who will answer, you think?” Mohammad Osman said curiously beside him.
Before Arthur could reply, the door swung open without a word. Standing behind was one of the Tower guards, dressed in his breastplate and armored uniform. The most striking aspect of the guard—other than the fact that he actually had a face, unlike the shadowed, faceless figures that patrolled the Tower otherwise—
was just how tall he was. He stood nearly a foot taller than Arthur at what must have been close to seven feet.
“Oh, wow,” Arthur said, then quickly correcting himself, added, “I’m Arthur Chua. The, uh, owner of this place?”
“Yes, Clan Head. I have been so informed and have been awaiting your entrance.” The guard’s face was entirely impassive. “You may address me as Guard Shu.” Then moving aside while pulling the door open, he waited for Arthur to enter. “You will need to acquire servants or other individuals to handle the entrance after today. This is not, obviously, my duty.”
“Right. I didn’t see a key or anything…” Arthur trailed off, for as he stepped over the threshold the Tower had sent him another series of notifications.
A mental confirmation was all that was required for the Tower to give him the layout. At Yao Jing’s rather gentle urging, Arthur made sure to move away from the front entrance while he scanned through the wire diagram floor map that appeared in his view, allowing Yao Jing to pass the threshold. Even as he walked in, he remarked on the greater concentration of energy within the building, similar in some ways to the beginners’ inn but less dense.
Maybe if they upgraded the building or the clan, that density of energy would grow stronger?
At the same time, Mohammad Osman and the rest of his people had been gently but firmly barred from entry by the guard. To his credit, Osman made no move to hurry the matter along, even if he curiously eyed the inside of the building.
“Huh. Keys,” Yao Jing said, scooping up one key. “I guess that explains one thing.” He put it in his pouch, only for Guard Shu to appear beside him, glowering. “What? I’m a Clan Member.”
“There are protocols that you must know of. The Tower supplies a number of such keys equal to the number of rooms available. Upon loss, keys must be repurchased at the Administrative Building. Each key is individually designated for its current owner and only the Clan Head or his representative on the floor will be able to remove such allocation,” Guard Shu said.
Arthur had a rough idea of the layout now: Lots of residential rooms on the first floor; fewer but bigger rooms on the second floor; and lastly meeting rooms on the ground floor, plus a few residential rooms. Exiting the map, Arthur ran through Guard Shu’s explanation in his mind.
“Is this normal, for clan buildings?” he asked.
“No. You have chosen added security features, and as such, the building includes some minor benefits to myself. The keyed keys are another benefit. As the Clan and the building itself improve, additional security features and other bonuses may be applied,” Guard Shu explained.
“Thank you. For being a frank you.” No response from the guard. So. Another critic of his humor.
So many critics.
Arthur’s gaze tracked outside to where the Double Sixes were waiting patiently. “How about guests?”
“They may be allowed entry by any key holder. You may inform me if you wish to place specific limits on the number of guests. Those overstaying their welcome or attempting to enter without permission will, of course, be ejected by myself.” Guard Shu grinned, a little malice glinting in his eyes. “As expressly and quickly as you may desire.”
“Umm, let’s not start any wars. So no deaths,” Arthur said. Seeing the slight disappointment in Guard Shu’s gaze, he added, “Except those of the Suey Ying tong. Those you can kill if they try to break in.” Another pause. “You know who they are, right?”
“I do.”
“Good, good.” Arthur then gestured at Mohammad Osman. “Let them in. And if any of the Thorned Lotuses come, let me know. I’ll want them in too. Maybe let Jan and Uswah know, when they arrive?”
“Of course, Clan Head.”
“Thank you.” Having said his piece, he waved Mohammad Osman and his people in before gesturing towards the hallway. He did so with his hand closed, using his thumb instead of his index finger to point the way, as he assumed was culturally polite to Osman. Once the Sixes were through the door, he walked off quickly to the nearest meeting room.
The meeting room was outfitted with a boardroom table and chairs, a nice surprise. It would have been problematic if he had to actually furnish the entire place, what with his lack of funds. He hoped that the rest of the building was furnished, especially the residences. If so, it would save him a pretty penny.
His mercantile thoughts were pulled apart as Mohammad Osman stepped into the room, his eyes sweeping the insides before taking a seat near the head of the table and keeping an eye on the door as he sat.
Arthur, leaning on the middle chair of the table, smiled a little at the paranoid nature of the man’s movements but chose not to comment. Instead, he waited until the others had filed in, Yao Jing being the last to enter and take up post nearby.
“So, Clan Head, what are your plans?” Mohammad Osman said.
“Hard to plan without information. But if Boss Choi is to be believed, he has captured a friend of mine. And might have acted against the others in the Thorned Lotuses.” Arthur paused, considering his next words before continuing. “I cannot allow that.”
“What are you going to do? Declare war?” Mohammad Osman’s eyes narrowed. “War is expensive.”
“It is,” Arthur said. “And my clan is small, for now. But once the Lotuses arrive, that will change.”
“And my people?” Mohammad Osman said.
The words made Arthur freeze, staring at the other man. Of the things the man might have negotiated for, entrance to his burgeoning clan had not been part of it. His mind spun, searching for an answer, his instincts screaming against answering in the positive. And yet . . .
“I did not think the Double Sixes were looking to tie themselves so tightly to a clan,” Arthur said, stalling.
“Things change. A true Malaysian clan is rare. Especially one not controlled by the corporations. Or politicians.”
Those words brought more than a few grimaces to the faces of those around. An unfortunate fact of life that the politicians and their cronies—many of whom ran large corporations of their own—had the majority control of clans here. They made up the cultivator families, the sects, and other groups that controlled information that ran through the Tower. But apart from these groups with powerful backing, rarely were there multiracial clans that better represented the diversity of ethnic-religious groups in Malaysia: not just the Malays and Chinese, but the Indians, the indigenous tribes, and the more recent immigrants.
Thus far, the powerful clans had left Arthur alone. Why would they care for the scrambling of those who were guaranteed to be weaker than them? But now that he had an actual clan? Now he was a threat. And Arthur could not help but realise it at that moment. Perhaps his enemies were larger and bigger than the Suey Ying tong. Even if they were the ones he had to deal with first.