Joshua's heart pounded as he weaved through the alleyways of Yangon, his breath shallow and rapid. The two men were still behind him, their steps methodical and unhurried, as if they already knew where he was headed. There was no point in running now. He couldn't outrun them forever, and his instincts told him this was more than a simple chase. He had to confront it—whatever "it" was.
After a few minutes, he stopped in a small, dimly lit side street, hands slightly trembling as he reached into his jacket and touched the cold metal of his apartment keys. His apartment wasn't far now, and he hoped the thin walls and crowded street around it might offer him some kind of protection. He didn't have many options. With a shaky exhale, he decided to go straight home and face whatever came next.
Once he reached his apartment building, he quickly unlocked the door, stepped inside, and slammed it shut behind him. He leaned against it, heart pounding in his chest as he locked the door, his mind racing. He glanced at the large iron box where he'd stashed the package and felt the weight of it in the air, almost suffocating.
Joshua checked the time, it's late noon. The city outside seemed quieter than usual, the distant hum of traffic oddly muffled. He threw his backpack on the couch and slumped into a chair by the window, staring blankly into the darkness. He reached for his flip-phone again, thumb hovering over Elena's number, but something stopped him. She wasn't answering, and calling her again wasn't going to change that. No, he had to handle this himself. But how?
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. A sharp, authoritative knock that echoed in the small apartment. He froze.
"Joshua," a voice called from the other side. It was calm, deep, and oddly composed. "We know you're in there. talk kid we ain't patient enough.*bangs the door*"
Joshua's pulse quickened, but he forced himself to stay calm. There was no point in pretending he wasn't home. He took a deep breath, crossed the room, accepting that he fucked up and cautiously unlocked the door.
Two guys with black clothes and another two typical looking street thugs with red, bloody looking mouths from chewing betel- nuts, wearing boonies, tuckled up longyi and tank tops with absurd ammounts of tattos, stood in the dimly lit hallway, the men in the black clothes are the same ones who had followed him earlier. The thugs were ordinary blokes you'd see on the slums of Yangon, but the men in black clothees both have chinese features. One was taller, his face weathered and rough, while the other had a sharp, angular look about him. But it wasn't their presence that unnerved him—it was the man standing between them.
Nang Long....
He was older, in his late fifties or early sixties, wearing a crisp, tailored suit that seemed out of place in the dingy hallway. His face was hard, etched with the lines of a man who had seen too much and cared too little. Yet there was something regal about him, something that demanded respect—or fear. He wasn't as tall as the two men flanking him, but he didn't need to be.
His presence dominated the doorway. His suit was tailored to perfection, sharp lines cutting through the dim light of the hallway. His face, angular and severe, was like a mask of stone—expressionless, but his eyes told a different story. They were dark, calculating, like two bottomless pits of knowledge. Not the wild kind of danger, but the controlled, methodical threat of a man who had been pulling strings in the shadows for decades.
Nang Long looked around the room first and then Joshua up and down, a flicker of something—amusement, maybe?—crossing his face for the briefest moment. Then, with a voice as smooth as silk and as cold as steel, he spoke.
"Young man.."
Joshua swallowed hard, stepping back as Nang Long strode into the room, the thugs guarding the entrance and his two men following in his wake like shadows. Without asking, Nang Long casually made his way to the center of the room, glancing around as though he owned the place. His eyes landed on the iron box for just a second, then drifted back to Joshua.
"I apologize for the sudden visit," Nang Long said, his voice quiet but so commanding it seemed to fill the room making things go heavy as the Blues that had been played in the room. "Have you eaten yet? what do you have for lunch?, the man asked the usual chitchat questions you'd hear from anyone from Myanmar when they visits someone's place."
Joshua's pulse quickened. His mouth was dry, and he struggled to find his voice. " No I haven't eaten my lunch yet sir, so let's get to the point, Elena just...."
"Elena, ahh that young lady..." Nang Long interrupted, his tone cutting like a blade. "Yes, Elena. She has always been... resourceful. But perhaps too much for her own good." His gaze locked onto Joshua, sharp as a hawk's. "Do you know what you're holding, Joshua?"
Joshua shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep his breathing steady and to appear calm. "I don't know what's in it but know it's important." he lied straight to his face.
Nang Long's lifeless dry lips curled into a thin smile, though his eyes remained ice-cold. "Important doesn't begin to describe it, young man."He took a slow step toward Joshua, the leather of his shoes barely making a sound against the floor. Joshua's instincts screamed at him to back away, but he stood his ground, even as Nang Long's presence seemed to suck all the air out of the room.
"I'm a man of many interests, Joshua," Nang Long said, his voice low, almost hypnotic. "My business spans countries, oceans, generations. What you're holding—what Elena gave you, it's worth years of work, years of careful planning. It's a ledger, yes, but not just numbers on a page. It's a roadmap to empires. It's power."
Joshua's throat tightened as Nang Long stepped even closer, his voice now barely above a whisper. "And power, Joshua, is the most dangerous thing in the world, can drive people to kill, rob, rape, do anything to gain that, even if it's a little fraction."
Joshua felt sweat bead on his forehead. "I—I didn't want to get involved. I just—"
Nang Long raised a hand, silencing him. "Involvement, Joshua, isn't always a choice. you fucked up. Elena trusted you for a reason. She believed you could handle this responsibility." His eyes bores deep into Joshua's. "Do you believe that?"
Joshua's breath caught in his throat, repeating I'm fucked inside his mind repeatedly. He didn't know how to respond. Nang Long was close now, uncomfortably and in an intimidating way so, and Joshua could feel the weight of his stare. It wasn't the usual kind of intimidation—Nang Long wasn't threatening him with violence, at least not directly at his face. But the way he moved, the way he spoke, it was clear that Nang Long didn't need to raise his voice to make men disappear. His power was in his control, his precision.
"I'm not looking for trouble, she told me to hold on to it" Joshua said finally, his voice strained.
Nang Long tilted his head slightly, considering Joshua's words. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he placed a hand on Joshua's shoulder, squeezing just hard enough to make his presence undeniable.
"I believe you," Nang Long said softly. "But trouble... it doesn't care what you want. don't fuck with things you aren't supposed to." He let his hand drop and gestured toward the iron box. "Now, the package."
Joshua swallowed hard and moved toward the box, unlocking it with trembling fingers. He pulled out the package, holding it out toward Nang Long, who didn't move. The two men stepped forward, but Nang Long raised a hand, stopping them.
He reached for the package himself, his eyes never leaving Joshua's. The weight of his gaze was almost unbearable, like he was seeing through Joshua, peeling back every layer of fear, guilt, and uncertainty. Nang Long took the package with the same calculated precision he did everything else, and Joshua felt a strange relief when the weight was no longer in his hands.
But the relief didn't last.
Nang Long looked down at the package briefly, then back at Joshua. "You'ved perhaps saved yourself and maybe even your bloodline." he said quietly.
Joshua's stomach dropped. He had hoped that this would be the end, that giving back the package would mean walking away, free and clear. But Nang Long wasn't finished.
"You've seen what's in this book," Nang Long said, his voice dropping to a more dangerous whisper. "You've glimpsed the kind of world I live in. And now, you're in this, if you tell a soul there will be ugly consequences."
Joshua's mouth went dry again. "I don't want to be part of it."
Nang Long's smile was thin, almost pitying. "Few do. But the world doesn't care about our wants. It is about power, survival. And now, Joshua, don't walk into the wrong den boy.."
Joshua felt a knot tighten in his gut. "What do you mean?"
Nang Long didn't answer right away. Instead, he took a step back, still holding the package, his eyes never leaving Joshua's. "People die trying, but don't worry—it won't be now. But one day, soon enough, you will if you don't behave like you're supposed to boy."
Joshua's hands clenched at his sides, frustration and fear warring within him. "I didn't ask for any of this."
Nang Long chuckled softly, a sound that chilled Joshua to the bone. "No, you didn't. But Elena brought you into it, and now you are responsible, you're a man deal with it."
The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on Joshua as Nang Long turned to leave, the two men and the thugs falling into step behind him. But just before he crossed the threshold, Nang Long paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
"Stay away from that woman Elena, Joshua," he said, his tone soft but final. "She's no longer your concern and keep out of our way."
And with that, Nang Long disappeared into the night, leaving Joshua alone in his apartment, the silence pressing in on him like a vice. The package was gone, but the weight of what Nang Long had said still hung heavy in the air.
Joshua knew one thing for sure—he was in deep now, deeper than he'd ever imagined. And there was no escaping it. Joshua sat in the dim light of his apartment, heart still pounding from Nang Long's visit. The room was silent now, the tension left by Nang Long's presence still clinging to the air. But Joshua wasn't focused on that anymore. His mind was racing with something else—an idea.
The ledger was gone, safely in Nang Long's hands, but Nang Long didn't know the whole truth. Joshua had been smart. Cautious. Paranoid, even. Elena's trust in him might've been misplaced, but Joshua knew better than to get sucked into a dangerous game without a backup plan.
He had made a copy of the ledger.
It wasn't easy, and it sure as hell wasn't simple. The moment he'd first unwrapped that package, after the initial shock wore off, Joshua had known what he was dealing with was far beyond his pay grade. That book was dangerous. And dangerous things came with dangerous people—people like Nang Long. If he was going to survive whatever mess Elena had dragged him into, he needed leverage. Something to protect himself if things went sideways.
The cloning process took him the better part of that first sleepless night. He hadn't known what to do at first—there were multiple languages, codes, sketches—but Joshua was resourceful. He had scanned each page of the book, taking high-resolution photos with his cheap photo camera, careful to keep them organized. And just in case things got dicey, he transferred the files to an encrypted flash drive. The kind that erased itself if anyone tried to tamper with it.
He didn't just make one copy either. One was hidden in his old toolbox, buried under layers of rusted-out wrenches and bolts no one ever touched. Another was disguised as a regular work document, stored in a hardrive he had.
Joshua had made sure no one could get to the copy without his say-so. It was his insurance policy, and now, as he sat in the quiet aftermath of Nang Long's visit, he was thankful for it.