Hong Kong Crossover: From Punk to Crime Lord

Hong Kong, 1970. Kowloon Walled City.

Damp, stinking, cramped.

Chen Jiajun woke amid a splitting headache and a pungent smell of mold.

Before him was a low ceiling that looked ready to collapse at any moment, papered over with thick, blackened old newspapers. Beneath him was a hard wooden bed, its thin straw mat giving off a foul mixture of sweat and mildew.

“I'm... not dead?”

He sat bolt upright, only to be hit by a wave of dizziness. Countless fragments of unfamiliar memories flooded into his mind like a burst dam.

Chen Jiajun, eighteen, a mainlander who had illegally crossed into Hong Kong three days earlier. Penniless, he had gone to stay with a distant uncle in the Walled City, but after falling ill with a high fever, he had died.