The Twin Tower Labyrinth.

  One of only three currently classified SSS-Rank RIFTs in the world. It sits in the once-metropolitan heart of Kuala Lumpur, the city that served as the grim cradle of the Cataclysm, where the first RIFT tore open the sky almost sixty years ago.

  While Southeast Asia remains the world's worst-hit region, with close to two billion lives altered across eleven nations, the city itself has become a fortress of survival. According to the intelligence Elise collated for the trip, the Labyrinth is currently ‘inactive’.

  “I’m impressed with Elise’s work,” Emilia said, her voice competing with the rhythmic clatter of her luggage wheels against the airport tiles. “Not only did she secure a last-minute first-class booking, but she even managed to dig up everything about the place. I’ve never been here, so it’s a massive help. Have you been here before, Frank?”

  “A long time ago,” Jin replied.

  “Oh? Aren’t you Mr Worldwide?” Emilia teased.

  He fell silent as they stepped toward the glass doors. Once they slid open, the tropical heat hit them like the steam from a heavy iron wok. It was a wet, heavy heat, made worse by a recent downpour that had left the pavement steaming. It was a sharp contrast to the warm, breezy summer air of Neo-Tokyo.

  To Jin, this was nothing more than bittersweet nostalgia. He had once accompanied Elyzabeth here when they were still dating; she wanted to challenge the Twin Tower Labyrinth. It was during that raid, deep within its depths, that she officially earned the name ‘Valkyrie’.

  “I don’t get it,” Emilia added, shielding her eyes from the glare reflecting off the wet road outside. “What kind of RIFT never closes? Do you think my brother is here because of it?”

  “Maybe,” Jin said. He stepped out from the shade of the terminal roof, his eyes moving to the waiting line. “Whatever his reasons are, remember our plan. That is all that matters. Understood?”

  “Oh, right. Hehehe.” Emilia blushed and adjusted the tudung, the headscarf she now wore to complete her disguise.

  To blend into the local population, Jin only wanted Emilia to dye her hair black. Red hair was a beacon in this region, and the last thing Jin needed was a visual flare for Vincent or the Lowenhald’s enemies to identify and track the girl in an instant. Instead, she had made a sacrifice that would have been unthinkable a week ago, cutting her waist-length red hair to a shoulder-length bob and then dyeing it jet black.

  “We’ll check in first at the hotel that Elise booked for us before we visit SEAPAC’s HQ for more information,” Jin said as the two waited for a taxi outside Sepang Airport.

  “Ohhh…” Emilia blushed even harder.

  And this time, Jin was not about to let her thoughts go too wild. With a gentle smack on the back of her head, he reminded her, “Focus on why we’re here.”

  “Ouch. Let a girl dream, will you?”

  “Dream too much, and you’ll miss getting in the taxi. Now, hurry up.”

  They joined the taxi queue and loaded four heavy suitcases. All belonged to Emilia while Jin carried a single weathered backpack. As the taxi sped away from Sepang Airport, the forty-kilometre journey to the city centre revealed the scars of the last half-century. The towns that once lined the highway were now overgrown ruins, reclaimed by the jungle or levelled during the initial Cataclysmic surges.

  The scene reminded Jin of the old Shirokane District of Neo-Tokyo. A remnant of human failure to prepare for the worst.

  And like Neo-Tokyo, Kuala Lumpur had survived by evolving into a fragmented city containing sixteen daerahs, or districts. Their destination was District One, also known as the Twin Tower District. It was not only an administrative hub but the heartbeat for all Player activity across Southeast Asia, commercial and political included. Within its heavily fortified borders sat the SEAPAC headquarters, the high-end hotel Elise had secured for them, and the SSS-Rank Twin Tower Labyrinth.

  Yet, for Jin, he had his work cut out for him.

  “Hehehe. I’ll thank Elise once we get back,” she said as they checked into their hotel room. It was a single large bed suite overlooking the city.

  Jin could only shake his head and sigh. “I’ll have to sleep on the sofa. Else…”

  He did not even continue with the thought.

  After a short lunch, the two went to the SEAPAC headquarters. Short for the Southeast Asia Player Association, this was the place where all Players across this region would ply their trades. There were branches elsewhere, but this was the main office.

  “Whoa!” Emilia said as she looked up towards the skyscraper. “I thought ours was already impressive, but damn. This HQ is even taller and bigger than I thought.”

  Jin smiled. “Good to see some things did not change.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing,” came the reply. “Come. Let’s carry on with the task at hand.”

  The first order of the day was to identify if Vincent van Lowenhald was still here. Jin told the receptionist who he was. Although he was a fellow Player from a different association, Jin was well-received. Everything he needed to know, the receptionist answered politely and in the most helpful way possible. However, it came as no surprise that there was no Player named Vincent van Lowenhald registered here.

  Unfortunately, Emilia did not take the news well.

  “What do you mean, my bro–ouch! What was that for?”

  Jin did not say anything. His cold, hard stare was enough to remind Emilia that she had forgotten to play her role. He leaned over and, in no uncertain terms, warned her.

  “One more time your tongue slips, I’ll send you back to your father. We are here not to play. No one is your brother. You are my fiancée, and you are here to sightsee with me. Remember that.”

  “I-I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Promise. So please, don’t send me back. Please.”

  Jin nodded before he returned to the receptionist at the counter. “Do you have any Players with red hair? About this height?”

  “Is it the same Player you are looking for, sir?” the receptionist asked. “The Platinum V-ranked Player from Neo-Tokyo?”

  “Yes,” Jin said. “The Chief has been getting on me to find him and deliver this letter to him, you see.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  To prove his point, he waved an envelope. Inside was the same letter Vincent wrote to his father that Jin had ‘borrowed’.

  “Usually, it is not a problem, but for the last few days, the Chief failed to get through to him. Since it is rather urgent, I was sent here in his stead.”

  “Very well, sir,” the receptionist said without much probing. “We’ll see what we can do. Please wait for a moment.”

  While they waited at the lounge, Emilia asked, “Is it that easy to ask for information about a Player?”

  “It is,” Jin answered. “Except for some personal details, most information about us is public knowledge. It is only a matter of whether someone is interested enough to go through hundreds of thousands of details. That is all.”

  “Eeww. So much work.”

  “It is. So many names attached to so many faces and so many details to go through. I would rather sew up dead bodies than do what that bloke is doing for us.”

  “Is it me, or did you say something gross, Frank?”

  “What do you mean gross? It is good old honest work,” Jin replied. He mimed his old work, a gesture that sent Emilia shaking in her clothes. “One day, you and I will die. As a Player, this is the risk we take. It is better that we die with our bodies intact rather than have our limbs scattered everywhere and our brains and guts spilt.”

  “Please, no more,” Emilia begged. “The way you describe it is too gruesome. I might–”

  She stopped herself from vomiting on the spot before excusing herself to the bathroom.

  Jin knew what he did. That certain trauma inside the pyramid still haunted her. Without a shred of guilt, once his partner was out of sight, he returned to the receptionist.

  “Is there a club or two nearby where Players tend to hang out? Where do they serve alcohol and stuff?”

  “We have a couple here, but…”

  “But?”

  “Both places are rather unruly, sir, to put it kindly,” the receptionist answered. “It is what being drunk does to people.”

  Jin nodded. “Especially people who have powers and are too eager to show them. Not enough fighting in the RIFT, so they have to bring it outside.”

  “I have no comment, sir, since I am not a Player,” said the receptionist. “Anyway, we have a few Players that fit your description. Unfortunately, none of them is Vincent van Lowenhald.”

  Thought so, Jin mused to himself. If the man were half as smart as his reputation suggested, the first thing he would do is ditch his real name and hide the red hair. If an idiot like me can think of this, then surely a genius from the Lowenhald family could.

  Jin wanted to cover all bases and eliminate the ‘ifs’. If he was unfortunate – or fortunate, depending on the point of view – he would also bait those who wanted to harm the Lowenhalds out of their hiding place. He had learnt from a young age that no matter how polite and helpful someone seemed, trust was a hard-earned currency.

  What he wanted to ask next was the most important question.

  “After all that travelling and talking, I’m rather thirsty. Other than those two places you mentioned, is there somewhere else better? On my way here, someone recommended me to a den or something?”

  The receptionist raised an eyebrow. “Den? Oh. You mean that Den?”

  “What about that den?”

  “Well, it is an exclusive club for the mid-tower rankers and above, sir. Since you are new, I doubt that you can enter the place.”

  “Mid-tower rankers?” Jin asked.

  Before the receptionist could answer, someone else did.

  “Assalamualaikum, brother,” a large man with a scruffy beard greeted Jin. A small group of five men trailed behind him, all sharing the same prim and proper look; full-bearded, wearing songkoks, and dressed in their ironed baju melayu with samping. “I have never seen you here before. You are new, brother?”

  Jin turned around and, with his palm on his chest, answered, “Salam, brother. Yes. I arrived earlier this afternoon. I was thirsty and asked the kind receptionist here where I could get my fill. An old senior of mine recommended the den.”

  “Ah. Haram for us, brother. But if you insist on the Den, then, as the receptionist said, you need to be a mid-tower ranker. A mid-tower ranker means you must successfully clear floor thirty at the very least.”

  “Floor thirty?”

  “Our RIFT,” the bearded man said. “The world-famous SSS-rank RIFT. Have you entered it yet?”

  “Ah, no,” Jin answered. “I haven’t–”

  “What are you doing? Stop!” Emilia rushed forwards, standing between the two with her arms wide. “Are you alright, Frank?”

  She feared those men meant to corner and harm Jin, but the moment the group laughed, the tension vanished. When the truth came out, Emilia apologised non-stop.

  “Your wife is very modest, brother. Even if she is new here, she took to our customs. We are impressed. She is a model of a solehah women.”

  “Solehah? Is that a good thing?” Emilia asked.

  “A very good thing, sister. Beautiful, kind-hearted, understanding, modest, and obedient. Especially to your husband.”

  Emilia, who had met this group not even a minute ago, found herself agreeing with every word. “Yes! Yes! I am a good wife. I am beautiful, kind-hearted, understanding, modest, and obedient. Especially obedient, right Frank? Frank? Frank?! Oi, are you listening, dear h-u-b-b-y?”

  Jin, who had made himself busy with the receptionist while trying to find more information on how to enter the Den, waved her away. But Emilia was not having it. She pulled him to her side.

  “These guys are so lovely, dear hubby. Don’t you think so?”

  Jin shot a weak smile. “Yes. They are. By the way, brother, you said I should enter the SSS-RIFT, right?”

  “Yes, yes. Since you are here, you must. Today, if you can. The Den or not, if you clear floor thirty, your life here will be much more rewarding. But it is easier said than done, brother.”

  “I see,” Jin said, rubbing his chin.

  “Anyway,” the bearded man continued, “the receptionist will tell you more about it. We shall be going now. Wassalamualaikum, brother.”

  Emilia and Jin bid them farewell, with the girl even offering to buy them a late lunch, but the men were quick to decline. Their wives, as they said, were waiting at home for them.

  It was the end of the short encounter, yet it was both informative and deductive. Jin tried to piece the puzzles together.

  From the letter Vincent wrote to his father, Tome had discovered more than secret words and letters. The paper used pulp native to Southeast Asia and had been subjected to tropical weather, but it also carried a tinge of alcohol contamination in its ink. It was a simple matter of putting two and two together.

  And based on Vincent’s mission of vengeance, Kuala Lumpur was the first destination that Jin and Count Emil picked from the list.

  After getting the directions, Jin led Emilia away from the SEAPAC headquarters. The walk took them deeper into the heart of District One, where the shadows of the famed headquarters stretched long over the streets. Here, the atmosphere changed. The air was heavier and more humid. Ironed suits and crisp uniforms gave way to the rugged attire of active Players as they shopped for equipment.

  “Is the Twin Tower Labyrinth this way?” Emilia asked. Her eyes darted between the crowded street food stalls and the neon signs of equipment shops.

  “We are taking the long way,” Jin replied, his gaze scanning the side streets. “We need to see the layout of the district before we commit to the Labyrinth. Like they say, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

  Emilia nodded, convinced by the logic. “So, if we are in Kuala Lumpur, we should do what Kuala Lumpurians do? Or is it Kuala Lumpurnese? Or…”

  Jin tuned her out as he tracked the specific street names the receptionist had mentioned.

  They eventually reached a corner where the street hit a dead end. Beyond it sat a large, single building three stories high. Muffled noise thumped against a heavy, reinforced door. A sign above it read ‘The Den’ in big, bold script, a loud statement for such an exclusive yet out-of-the-way establishment.

  Even during the day, there was a steady flow of high-level Players moving in and out of the place. Still holding her hand, Jin brought Emilia along with him toward the club.

  But before they could even get close to the entrance, two bouncers stepped forward. They did not need to speak. Their crossed arms and the frowns they wore spoke volumes.

  Jin stopped. According to Tome’s analysis, he could defeat these two with minimal effort, but doing so would expose his strength and attract the eyes of every Player in the surrounding area. If Vincent was nearby, a brawl at the front door of ‘The Den’ would send him off into the shadows.

  “Sorry. New here. Wrong turn,” Jin muttered to the bouncers before catching Emilia by her elbow and steering her back toward the main road.

  “Wait, was that a club?” she asked, looking back over her shoulder. “It is a club. Hehehe. Aren’t you a bad boy, Frank? So early in the day, and you are already thinking of getting me drunk.”

  Jin sighed. “A club, yes. But not a place for you and me to be.”

  Emilia pursed her lips. “You are no fun, Frank. Just like Daddy. I am already an adult, you know!”

  Jin did not care what Emilia said as his mind was moving ahead. To get the truth about the letter, he had to get inside one way or another. That meant either through a flawless stealth approach or a legitimate mid-tower ranking climb. The latter was time-consuming, and time was a luxury he did not have.

  Stealth, eh?

  Jin smiled. When was the last time he had snuck into a club? The one he remembered was thirty years ago, under the oyabun’s order. And tonight, he would give it a try once more. And who knows, Lady Luck might favour the bold.