Nervousness and a peek of outright fear dripped off the heavy silence in the little square several blocks behind the boutique facade lining Downtown’s main avenue. What was once a haphazard intersection had grown into a public space after the usually cramped buildings in the so-called ‘back alleys’ fell into such disrepair that earthbenders leveled the area to make more space, or were razed as colteral in inter (or even intra) triad fighting.

  Lin kept a wary eye as she scanned her surroundings. Though they were not completely impoverished, the lower css inhabitants here still showed the signs of invisible oppression weighing on them. The triads’ influence was pervasive throughout Republic City, and by now all Lin could do was hope that the next generation of gangsters would grow fat and compcent off their ill-gotten wealth that they became stupidly arrogant.

  The gangs had taken root in the early days of the city’s founding, according to Lin’s mother they mainly consisted of former soldiers on either side of the Hundred Year War. Led by discharged commanders or opportunistic businessmen, they quickly carved out their territories while Toph was building up the metalbending police force. Despite her power, the great Toph Beifong could not be everywhere at once, and Aang, Katara and Sokka were all busy forming the administration of the United Republic.

  What started as localized protection rackets grew into more complex syndicates that learned to adjust to the Republic’s ws just as they were being put into effect. Lin remembered her mother’s bitterness at being held back from simply crashing through the unconcealed strongholds of the Agni Kai and Triple Threat Triad, because legally they did not deserve any punitive action.

  Not without any concrete evidence, or any witnesses brave enough to testify.

  According to Auntie Katara, this whole issue of legality was what soured retions between Toph and her friends, Sokka especially. It was also what drove her to be ruthlessly thorough when she hunted down any wrongdoers. Toph would give her prey space, letting them think they’ve escaped or accomplished their crimes without a hitch. Then, once they had enough of the proverbial rope, the chief of police would come down on them with all the gentleness of a ndslide. Every scrap of evidence would be thrown at them and enough witnesses (all of whom quickly learned to be far more scared of the name Toph Beifong than any scarred crime lord) would come up to ensure there’d be no wriggle room to negotiate.

  Lin remembered sitting in one of those trials and seeing her mother’s vindictive smirk as an Agni Kai lieutenant was sentenced to decades behind bars, the accumuted price of every crime he’d committed over two months delivered with interest. His wyer didn’t even try to fight for his innocence, and went straight to fighting for a lighter sentence.

  Unfortunately, however satisfying such busts were, they were infrequent and honestly, barely effective as none of the triads’ leadership ever got caught. The incarcerated gangsters almost never talked, and whatever intel they did provide often proved to be useless as their gangs quickly reshuffled, went to ground, and sometimes liquidated their more damning assets like a jaguarskink shedding its tail to escape predators.

  By the time Lin took up her mother’s mantle as chief of police, the dance between police and gangsters had evolved into a quiet stalemate that made things look outright peaceful to outsiders. The crime lords stuck as closely to the underside of the w as they could, while keeping the reins on their underlings loose to occupy the police. And for all their illicit operations, the triads kept their territories in order, as much to secure their power as it was to minimize police presence.

  It was why the people presently around her were almost skittish as they filtered into the square. The eyes on some of them darted about, looking for the triad enforcers that usually roamed the back alleys to maintain triad influence.

  There were no such goons to be seen though. From what Lin gathered, the power struggle within the Triple Threat had created various pockmarks in their territory, areas that were strategically unimportant enough to be abandoned. It was probably also relevant that the triad had suffered a spree of violence just a couple of days ago - which Lin only found out through unofficial channels like healers, carpenters and such.

  No surprise then that Future Media was allegedly able to breeze through their negotiations with the Triple Threat Triad to gain the rights to set up their soup kitchen here. Whichever Triple Threat captain in charge here all but gifted this square to cut his losses and consolidate his forces.

  Allegedly.

  Unfortunately, this site was all that Xing was able to secure for his questionable publicity stunt, as other areas were still heavily contested or downright votile.

  If anything, it was a good opportunity for Lin to get a better read on the young media director. Her curiosity was definitely piqued when informants had brought news of Future Industries reaching out to the Triple Threat Triad. It was known that Hiroshi Sato was no fan of the triads, so learning of this communication, and that it was for a Future Media project, immediately drew Lin’s attention.

  For better or worse, Xing had seemed immensely grateful when the police chief said she’d be personally observing the proceedings of his charity work. No attempts at deflection or even a smidge of nervousness, nothing to rile Lin’s suspicions.

  Which, her mother might say, itself could be suspicious.

  Still, try as Lin might, she couldn’t find anything that might suggest an untoward agenda. She saw how the quartet of stalls were set up, and there was nothing unusual about the frames nor were there any of the usual signs of hidden compartments. Nothing seemed off about the rge pots of food that arrived either (she volunteered an officer to make sure). Instead of triad goons roaming about like a pack of crowhounds, there were a dozen or so men and women in neat Future Media uniforms that seemed just as nervous as the locals being here as they flipped through lists or id out the tables and benches or went about speaking with the gathering residents.

  “The truck’s clear, ma’am.”

  Absently, Lin nodded at Lieutenant Koshi’s report, not surprised at all that the rather conspicuous closed-top vehicle parked nearby was clean. Xing was there overseeing his staff, after all.

  “What’s in it?”

  The sharp-faced lieutenant shrugged. “A bunch of huge electrical boxes. The director let us look inside the panels-” Of course he would. “-and all that were inside were wires. Nothing suspicious. Oh, there was a microphone in there as well?”

  Lin hummed in thought for a moment, watching the locals becoming more animated as the steaming bowls of food appeared on the stall countertops. The lines to the soup kitchen stalls began moving, and the first lunch was served to the Downtown back alley residents. At the same time, rge, cabinet-sized boxes were wheeled out from the truck.

  Speakers, the police chief realized after a second of squinting.

  Huh.

  Well, if this publicity stunt was interesting enough, at least it wouldn’t be a complete waste of her day.

  *****

  “The line has begun moving,” Mozi reported, earning a quick thumbs up from Xing as he maintained his conversation with Future Media’s first ‘talent’ in the back of the truck. With the speakers brought out the space within was no longer crushingly tight, allowing for the director and the young woman to stand comfortably by a console as they talked.

  “-all unique tics, right?” the aide heard, not for the first time, as his director made doubly (triply by now?) sure that Ping’s persona would be truly unique. Hearing of the woman’s history, Mozi couldn’t really bme Xing at all for the precaution, and judging from her excited expression, neither did Ping..

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. We’ll be starting soon, so take the time to do your warmups.”

  Ping nodded before slipping into a stool before the console and closing her eyes in what probably was some sort of calming meditation. In the meantime, Xing’s attention shifted onto Mozi.

  “”No signs of trouble?”

  “None, sir. The Triple Threat’s keeping their word.”

  “Or the police presence is doing its job,” the director added wryly.

  There was a shuffling from beside Mozi, and another familiar staff member joined him at the back of the truck. “Word’s spreading,” old man Lidai remarked without any formality. “We’re getting more diners trickling in.”

  “Within estimates?” Xing asked.

  “Eh, hard to tell. Everyone’s wary of new joints, no matter how good the food smells. Gotta see how fast people actually get it into their head that we’re not asking them to sign up or spill anything.” Lidai turned to give a nod over at a cluster of metalbending police. “Having them around doesn’t exactly help either.”

  Xing nodded at that, far from disappointed. “Well, we have a decent enough crowd.”

  There was a sudden electronic crackle that filled the air. Movement at the edge of Mozi’s vision drew his attention, and then he gave the director a quick update. “Speakers are up.” Mercifully, the engineers at Future Industries delivered on their promise and neither the boxy equipment nor the truck batteries caught fire this time around.

  An honest smile formed on Xing’s face as he sat by the console next to Ping’s and handed her the microphone. “Right then. Ping, you ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Mozi, keep watch of the crowd. Gramps, I’ll leave the food to you, call in a top up if you think we’ll need it. At worst, we can donate the extras to another food bank.”

  Lidai left with a soft grunt and a surprisingly prideful nod, leaving Mozi to just turn around to observe the crowd by himself. By now, some have paused in their eating to note the speakers set up around the square that have come to life. Chief Lin and her police were simirly eyeing the hardware with curiosity. Mozi then turned his attention to the staff keeping the lines in order or walking among the tables, and they responded with trouble-free nods and smiles.

  Well, it’s good that things were finally going to pn. For a moment, there was doubt that there’d be any avaible sites to set up the stalls at all. Then the hasty back and forth with the engineers when it was discovered that, no, it wasn’t just a simple thing of hooking up a truck’s batteries to power the electronics, as they had initially assured. That they got here at all without their transports breaking down from the extra weight of their modifications was itself also a miracle.

  The familiar whine of a gramophone winding up first was heard behind Mozi before it spilled out of the speakers, and seconds ter, music started to py. It was a simple light tune, the sort that usually accompanied street pys due to how cheap those records were. They wouldn’t be resorting to this if it wasn’t the start of rehearsal season and practically every musician wasn’t already booked, or were clearing their schedules in the hopes of being booked, by the stage pys. Out of the two musicians they did get to secure, the guzheng pyer cancelled just five days ago because the theater hosting ‘Lament of the Painted Lady’ suddenly decided to expand its orchestra, and only two nights ago did Xing discover that the shamisen pyer was incarcerated for at least a week for drunken misconduct, because the topic popped up by chance in his final checks with Chief Lin.

  While Mozi quietly fumed at the near misses this project faced, the tune slowly faded away.

  “Ara~ This is a Future Media exclusive.” Ping’s voice was lower and breathier than what it usually was, and thanks to Xing’s coaching for days now, it exuded something that wasn’t quite professional. It definitely got the diners’ attention though, as many eyes were looking up from their bowls towards the speakers, and those in line froze in pce. “It is currently noon in Republic City, the weather is…quite fine, and hopefully, it’ll remain so. On behalf of Future Media, let me extend my utmost gratitude to the patrons who’ve given us a chance today.”

  Now even some of the police were gawping at the sultry voice, and Mozi spied Lin smacking one of her younger officers in the back of his head to un-distract him.

  “The following is an excerpt from ‘Water in the Fire: A Steaming Romance’… Chapter 4: Princess, meet prince. ‘The doors opened wide…’”

  Mozi forcefully dragged his attention to his present surroundings as Ping read from the controversial fiction about an illicit affair between a waterbending princess with a firebending prince. Supposedly, the author went into hiding the moment the book was published, not wanting to risk the wrath of Lord Zuko or Katara for using their likeness for the main characters, and creating a sort of conspiracy theory that the book was an actual account of an affair between them.

  Mozi himself hadn’t read the book, but Li Ming did, and she thought that the whole thing was overhyped ‘shlick bait’, whatever that meant.

  Overhyped or not, the continued reading was drawing a crowd to the square. Heads were peeking out nearby windows, and more and more people were trickling in. Off to the side, Lidai was sending someone out to call in another catering truck.

  It only took a few minutes before Ping finished reading the chapter, but by then the damage was done. Many bowls had gone cold as people fixed their attention to the speakers, the staff had to nudge the line to move as those who collected their food were more fixated on being an audience than sating their hunger.

  “Thank you for listening. Now, if you’d like to know the rest of this enthralling story, Kadoka Publishing is still printing this love story, and you can find it in bookstores and libraries.”

  Kadoka Publishing being a minor subsidiary of Future Industries, of course, mainly because it’s in charge of printing manuals.

  “Now then, have you heard of I hope you find your meals acceptable.” And Mozi didn’t now whether to ugh or palm his face as a few heads bobbed in response. “Kindly provide any feedback you have to our friendly Future Media staff. While we appreciate any honest remarks, I do so hope that you might not be too harsh on my dear colleagues.”

  “We won’t,” someone muttered, earning another round of nods from the captivated crowd.

  There was another reading, this time of an advertisement for Cabbage Corps’ driving gloves and goggles. Considering the state of the audience, Ping could’ve read an obituary and they’d still be eagerly listening.

  “...and that concludes today’s broadcast.” A collective ‘aww’ of disappointment rose from the crowd, some of the police included. “I do so hope you’ve enjoyed the short time we’ve spent together.”

  Someone yelled, “I do!” which was a sentiment quickly echoed by a significant number of the gathering.

  “But who knows, maybe we’ll get to meet again, in the future? But for now, stay safe, and buh-bye!”

  And with that the speakers cut out, and a heavy mood of strange mencholy seemed to fill the air as people got back to eating their free food. The rest of the day went on without any issues, though poor Ping had to remain in the truck, out of sight, through the whole thing.

  Two days ter, Mozi ushered in a highly amused Asami Sato for a meeting with Xing. Right after that, there was a rather terse request from Chief Lin for Xing’s presence in the police headquarters, in regards to the spike of burgries suffered by Cabbage Corps’ stores and various bookstores across the city.

  Mozi guessed that with those kinds of results, Director Xing would be getting his radio station after all.