Chapter 435

"Good, right?" Bolo asked, when Arthur polished the last of the claypot chicken rice bowl. Cooked in the traditional claypot dish, it had been perfect - the soya, hoisin and dark soya sauce perfectly blended along with a touch of rice wine, the rice crisped on the edges where it contacted the pot to give that crunch and the chicken tender and moist. 

"Very good. Almost as Lok's at Damansara Heights."

"Eh, they don't use ham yi there. Not authentic, lah."

"Yeah, but I like the stewed pork and the seeweed strips," Arthur pointed out.

"You children, always changing what is good. What's wrong with something classic like this?" Bolo said with a sniff.

"Nothing. I said it was good, right?" Arthur said. "Thank you, for the food." He picked up his drink, drained it with a suck on the metal straw and placed it down, the ice clinking as he set the plastic cup down. "Now..."

"So you need money, ah?"

"Nope," Arthur said. "Or, I won't, once I sell some cores."

"Not going to take the government offer?" An eyebrow rose.

"I might. But you know how they are, so slow. Better to have some Ringgit first, right?" Arthur said with a self-depreciating smile. 

"Mmmm, also can just sell to us what you have." He glanced down at the slip of paper that Arthur had slipped into his shirt pocket. "We can beat their prices."

"Really?" Arthur considered, pulled out the paper and slid it over. "Then write it out. If it works, maybe I sell to you."

"Maybe?"

Arthur shrugged. "I have other friends who want it too."

Bolo's lips pursed. "Would they be the Ghee Hin? Or the UN?"

"Depends. Who's asking?" 

"I'm 66." Bolo eyes narrowed, opened his mouth to say something more and then whipped his head sideways. It took a little concentration but Arthur heard it, the commottion growing down that side. "Tui!"

"I take it some others learnt of my presence?" Arthur said, sighing. "I was hoping to avoid this."

"Then you should have used another name," Bolo's voice was filled with derision and Arthur chuckled, awkwardly. Well, he knew that now. He just hadn't expected them all to throw this much of a commotion. 

Once again, old habits and not realising exactly how big a deal he was running into the reality of things. Sometimes, it seemed, everyone else thought he and the Durians were more important than they really were, it seemed. Or perhaps, he was just wrong.

Not long after, a member of the 66 rushed in to confer with Bolo. Arthur did not need to extend his senses or pay particular attention to know what the group was discussing, for not long after the man departed, the noise from outside decreased. He glowered at Arthur who considered taking off, though it was mostly idle.

If anything, with so many making trouble now; this was probably the safest that he could be.

On the other hand, the pair of parties that turned up was a minor surprise. The first were filled with mostly Chinese members, swaggering toughs led by another Climber who received a familiar nod from Bolo. The second were more surprising, office workers in semi-formal shirts and pants, with a light, black suit wearing gwailoh leading the pair.

“Arthur Chua?” the black suited gentleman was the first to speak, eyes locked onto his, the Scottish burr in his voice unmistakable.

“Yeah?” Arthur said, cautiously.

“My name is Keith Lister.” He gestured to the group behind him who had begun to spread out a little, some moving to take station behind Arthur. “Rick MacKenzie sends his regards. We’re here to help you out in any way we can.”

“He’s out?” Arthur said, surprised.

“He is.”

“Nice!” Then, recalling the other group, he raised an eyebrow at the bunch who were glowering at the 66. “Ghee Hin?”

“I am,” the man raised a chin. “My boss would like a word with you.”

“Got a card?” Arthur said, making Bolo twitch.

When the leader of the Ghee Hin reached into his pocket to fish out a card, Bolo let out a little growl and slapped the table. “Wah! Nei mou be ngo min ah! We were talking.”

“I’ll take a card from you too,” Arthur said to give back some face. “I’d talk to you, but the volume of cores we’re going to be talking about, it’s a bit out of your range.”

“You think so, ah? How many?”

Arthur scratched his chin, realizing he really did not know. This was what he needed someone like Casey who would have a better idea to help him. Or, thinking about the various roles he could hire, a Clan Treasurer.

“Talk so big…”

“Idiot,” the Ghee Hin man said. “You don’t know who this is, do you? Not really?” the man sniffed. “He’s a new Clan. He’s talking hundreds of cores. Your tai loh and mine will want to do the talking.” Then, he grinned. “Unless you’re trying to cut him out again, eh?”

“You… Don’t you dare, Doug.”

“Doug?” Keith said, turning his head to stare in surprise at the gangster from the Ghee Hin. Who was perhaps the least ‘Doug’-like man in the world. Not that Arthur had a very clear conception of a Doug beyond maybe a pasty white dude in a TV show; not a weathered and scarred middle-aged gangster with tattoos of a snake and tiger crawling up both well-muscled arms.

“What? Got a problem, ah?” Doug said to Keith who shook his head. Satisfied that he had pushed back sufficiently, he turned back to Bolo. “So, going to give the boy your boss’s card or not?”

“Card, card, so old fashioned.” Bolo rolled his eyes, reached over to his watch. He played with it for a few moments before adjusting it and waving the hand at Arthur.

Arthur glanced at the upgraded smartwatch, snorted and took out his own smartphone and triggered the contact switch. Moments later, he watched as the contact information triggered. What surprised him was that the card did the same, adding a second contact moments later.

Of course, Arthur made quick content changes, adding a note so that he could remember who was involved. As he stood up, ready to leave – still poor and not having sold a single damn core either – additional shouts for those to move aside in Malay drew his attention.

Because, of course it wasn’t over.