Haifeng

Prologue

Long ago, deep in the ancient lands of Asia, there used to be a city known as Haifeng, the sea breeze. Haifeng was an ancient place of bustle and activity. And, as with any city, that came with a rise of crime. The first crime was brutal. A man known as Xiu-Li. But no one calls him that name anymore. They call him Shīmián. Insomnia. For he is the man that never sleeps.

Shimian’s First Crime: The Basuki Massacre

2:30 a.m. The morning was bright and cold. In the small town of Sahiri, lay the even smaller Basuki Supermarket. Thirty seven occupants, ranging in age from six to sixty, plus a young shopkeeper. And, in the midst of all this, there enters a thirty-eighth person. Xiu-Li, for back then, that is what they called him.

“Hello, Xiu-Li,” says the shopkeeper, Miss An-Li Soul.

“Hello, Miss Soul,” Shimian says with a polite nod.

“What would you like to buy this early in the morning?”

“Oh,” Shimian says. “I’m not here to buy.” He waits in silence for all the shoppers to be lined up in neat rows at the checkout, like lambs begging for slaughter.

“Citizens of Haifeng!” he shouts. “Bow to me, or pay the price!” All thirty seven heads turn to him. Murmurs arise, but no one bows. What a crackpot, they think. Then, Shimian pulls out a katana. The first row scrambles back, but still, no one bows. What can he do with just a sword? He leaps down, and, at the speed of light, slices the throats of everyone in the room. As if held up by a string, they wait until Shimian is out of the way before unanimously falling to the floor. Puppets, led by the master puppeteer.

**UNFINISHED**