[lucaslegend]

Chapter 6:

Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of action in this chapter, but I promise big action incoming in the next few chapters!

My mind went blank as Ah Soon 舅舅 blasting me with questions over the phone about where Ying Ying and I had gone.

I decided to play dumb by saying I simply had just done as told, which was to chauffeur Ying Ying to a friend’s reunion.

I tried to turn the situation around by asking him why was this a matter of concern for him.

“她现在没有接电话叻，怎样办你自己讲?” Ah Soon 舅舅 ignored me and carried on forcing me to provide an answer I did not have.

We blabbered back and forth for a while before he hung up frustratingly.

A strange unease settled over me. Ah Soon’s reaction wasn’t just about concern—it felt more like panic. Something about Ying Ying’s absence was affecting him directly, and that made my stomach twist.

Then it hit me. What if Ah Soon 舅舅 was actually involved in the private party at the bungalow?

That would explain his shock when he saw me driving Ying Ying away. In his mind, Ying Ying had a job to attend to.

But what exactly was his role in it? Was he always part of a ring that organized fishy activities? I had never heard anything about it before.

I had to find out.

I returned to the neighbourhood at around 11pm.

As preposterous as it sounded, I held onto the belief that nothing too bad would happen to a Singapore citizen.

I had a simple plan: to blend into the party naturally. The first step was driving up to the house confidently and stepping out of the car with the aura of an invited guest.

Yet, my plan was immediately about to be thrown out of the window as two big Indian bouncers in front of the property had started walking towards me. One of them was scanning me up and down.

“Oh my god,” I murmured. In my mind, I was panicking as I hadn’t exactly thought of what to say to bluff them.

Miraculously, a car pulled up behind mine, and a man stepped out. It was a Singapore-registered vehicle!

He saw my car too and seemed surprised to find a fellow Singaporean among the attendees.

Seizing the opportunity, I casually introduced myself, shook hands with him, and then leaned in, whispering, “Eh bro, help me out—I forgot to register myself on the list!”

He didn’t say a word. He just smiled, nodded and put his arm around my shoulder, ushering me to walk together with him.

We just strolled past the two Indian bouncers effortlessly.

“Give them your car key,” he instructed me. We handed our keys to the bouncers and proceeded to enter the bungalow.

“Bro relax, it’s a Bolehland’s party, sial ah where got security check one!” He chuckled.

As we stepped inside, a thick haze of cigarette smoke and something heavier—weed, maybe—hung in the air.

The pulsing bass of Tiktok Mandarin manyao remix vibrated through the wooden floors, making my chest feel tight.

The entire space was dimly lit, save for neon lights flashing in erratic bursts, casting eerie shadows over the crowd of people. Must be more than a hundred people, I roughly counted.

Sofas, tall bar tables, bottles of liquor, cups, cigarette trays were just everywhere.

Scantily clad girls wove through the party like hostesses, draping themselves over men who mostly wore simple t-shirts and shorts. Only a handful of self-serious men put in the effort to wear something more formal or expensive.

Bottles of top-shelf liquor littered the tabletops, some still pouring into glasses, others knocked over, their contents seeping into sticky tabletops.

In the far corner, a group of men huddled together, exchanging small packets for cash.

Many of the people on the dance floor seemed high on substance.

The air reeked of alcohol, perfume, and something synthetic—something that made my skin prickle.

I gulped hard, forcing myself to stay composed. Even if I wanted answers about Ying Ying, I didn’t know where to start.

The man who got me in clapped me on the back. “Go enjoy yourself, bro.”

He then walked away to join his friends who stood at a corner of the house.

Soon, I got myself a pint of beer while being offered a cigarette to puff. I then walked around the house to see if I can find Ying Ying.

Most attendees were adults and middle-aged men, while all the girls who shuffled along the house seemed young. Most were college-looking local Chinese girls, some were eerily youthful. It was hard to tell as we Asians age really well.

A skinny guy with a gold chain slunk up to me, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

“Bro, want some good stuff? Weed, ketamine, ecstasy, juice, all got. Touch’n’Go also can!” He flashed a baggie of green and a tiny vial of white, tapping his phone like a hawker stall uncle.

I was at awe. Digging into my pocket, I peeled off some ringgit instead. “Just weed,” I said.

He shrugged, handed me the stash, and melted back into the crowd.

I tucked the goods away, sipping my beer to look casual. I tried texting Ying Ying and even Ah Soon 舅舅. No one responded.

As I was deep in thoughts, a commotion snapped me out of it.

A woman stumbled down the stairs from the upper floor, her heels clacking unevenly.

She shoved past me, wild-eyed, and dashed for the toilet near the bar. The toilet door banged open, and she doubled over the sink, throwing up hard.

There were two guys who seemed to follow her from upstairs, they were both laughing like hyenas. They then entered the bathroom together.

“Fuck…” I muttered, stepping back.


My stomach twisted. This wasn’t just a party—it was a fucking free-for-all.

To Be Continued