Chapter 200 - I Want You All Dead (Don't Skip)

Wuming was on his way back to the house. His job had been far from the city and he got the bus time mixed up so he had to stay in one of the shabby restaurants for heat until the right one came along.

He had taken a contract from a politician who wanted a union leader dead. Wuming did not ask for the why like he used to, he just did it. He thought it was something too typical that he did not even bother.

It was nothing personal. It was just a job.

When he got out of the bus two stops away from his home, he started to jog and went to a crowded area, looking around, then changing outfits in one of the department stores. He finally made his way home. By the time he reached their gate, he was shivering. That was why he was more than glad to enter the warmth of their home.

Then he saw the look on their faces and he realized it was colder here inside.

**

"What's up with you guys?" he laughed and took off his hat and shoes. He walked to the fireplace and sat next to it with his feet closest to the fire. He took off his gloves and his fingertips welcomed the heat. He could feel them defrosting.

"I heard you're taking contracts again," their father told him.

He did not even have to look at Qing Lok to know that he was finally outed. Their father probably pressured the sweet boy. "What about it?"

"When you came back, didn't we agree that you are not going to work?"

He shrugged. "I need to do something. The Zookeeper hunt is not really progressing that much. I have to keep myself busy."

"Are you running out of money?"

Wuming's lips stretched. "Are you kidding me? I have enough to last a thousand lifetimes. I do what I do because I want to do it." Some of his contracts even had eight digits in it. "I'm gonna go crazy if I stay here."

Then the silence hung in the air. It was so loud that he finally had the clue why they were all there. He turned around and faced them. "Is this an intervention?"

It was Qing Chen who sighed from his seat. His head being held up by two fingers while his elbow was perched on the armrest. "No, it's not. We hardly care with the people you kill. You've been at this for a long while. We know you're careful."

"So… why is there a tension in the air?"

"We know what you did, Wuming," said Qing Lok who looked somehow apologetic.

"Which one?" he teased with an easy smile. For a second his mind flickered a picture of Camille. But his brothers promised they were not going to look for her. He trusted them. 

"You burned The Seven Seas," their father said.

His lips made an O. "Ohhh, THAT," he chuckled. "I thought it would be something ground-breaking." He settled back near the fire. "What about that place?"

"You're not even guilty?!" 

"I burned that place alright. But I'm not guilty that I did it."

"Do you know how much you've cost us?!"

"The place needs renovation anyway. You've got Qing Chen to market it as a mini hotel of some sort and up the prices. It's all good."

"WHY?" their father demanded.

Wuming was not liking the air. He stood up and rested his body against the fireplace. "What do you mean why? You're the one who had always been complaining about Qing Chen not wanting to care about the properties that once belonged to the mafia. The Seven Seas was the only thing big enough that would catch his attention so I burned it."

"And you thought that would SOMEHOW make your brother care about the mafia?" his father asked like he couldn't connect how Wuming was able to think about something like that.

He shrugged. "Tough luck."

Their father closed his eyes. It was like his temper's scale was visible in front of them—they hit that point that their father could not believe what was coming out of their mouths.

Wuming suddenly felt mad. "Why are you suddenly angry about it? You know who you should be angry with? YOURSELF. You might think that you're a good father and maybe you are at times but in the grand scheme of things, you don't even know your own sons!"

Wuming did not know where the words were coming from but they came out before he could stop them. "You had been with my brothers all their lives but it seems like you're the least person who knows them. Example? Chen doesn't want the mafia, that's a given fact. Do you know that It's making him depressed? I think you're too blind to see that. Lok was failing his studies because you keep on shoving businesses courses down his throat. He wants to be involved in computers. But I guess you don't know that either because all you see are pawns you can use."

Their father rose from his seat. "What the hell are you talking about?! You went independent in a few short years and you think you know better than I do?!"

Wuming step forward, could not hold the emotions flaring inside his chest. "Yeah, I do. I may have been gone but I want to help my brothers from you. Just let them be."

"And be what?! Someone like you who kills people for joy?"

"You're the one who made me this way! You're the reason why WE are this way. You turned us to killing machines ever since we were kids. You made us murderers! I know I'll no longer be saved, I already crave that feeling I get when I watch a person's life drain away from them. But aren't you thankful that your other sons still had humanity left inside them? That they were not beyond saving?!"

Their father took hold of Wuming's collar and barked. "I did what I have to do to make sure you will not end up dead like your mother!"

"Then maybe you shouldn't have had kids when you know you're just putting us in line of danger. You should've left the mafia before."

"The mafia is who we are!" he let go of Wuming. "Why is it so hard for the three of you to understand that?!"

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Qing Chen shift in his seat like he was going to say something but Wuming placed a hand in front of his face. He was not yet done. "Because we don't want it! Don't you see? You're the only who wants that kind of life. We know you want us to be someone like you, angry at the world because our mother had been killed. But it had the opposite effect. We don't want it to happen again that's why we want out!"

"You're still in my house, my rules—"

Soon enough, Wuming was getting in a screaming match with his father. Qing Chen stood up and tried to break the two apart. He had managed to pull Wuming away a few short feet when Qing Lok stood up, unnoticed. He walked to the nearest drawer and dropped three pistols on the table.

The loud thumps on it made the three of them stop.

"Well?" asked Qing Lok, looking at his brothers and father. "Should we finish this now? Go ahead, take a gun and shoot at each other."

Nobody moved. Wuming's chest was heaving and Qing Chen's hand loosened on his arm. Their father looked away.

"What?" Qing Lok taunted. "Isn't that what the three of you are arguing about? Father, go ahead. Kill your sons. They won't follow you, right? News flash: they also want you dead." He turned to his brothers. "Isn't this the kind of situation the two of you were talking about when we left Master's training grounds? Here's your chance to kill Father so there's no one else standing in the way of your happy ever afters."

Silence answered him. 

"What, are you cowards now?" he marched to the door. "I want you all dead when I get home."