[i]Inspector Huang is not in a good mood. It's goddamn muggy out there, the yelling of the street vendors is getting on his nerves, he's just run out of smokes, and he is absolutely, positively bored out of his skull. Not even the photo of the late Sun Meiying on his desk is enough to improve his mood. If anything, it only makes it worse, knowing she's not there to do something to cheer up his mood.
Usually when he's having a slow day like this, he'd be over at the range shredding paper targets with his dual Berettas or blowing up bowling pins with the Persuader, but that asshole Richardson wants him at his desk in case a call comes in. Not that he's had many calls today that weren't someone trying to sell him something or calling for dim sum -- one of these days he's going to have to get Ming or some other tech wiz to fix up the goddamn switchboard.
He can count the number of worthwhile cases he's fielded since the Mingxia affair on one hand and still have fingers left over. The weirdest by far was a haunting that had turned out to be a domestic dispute between two ghosts that had not been resolved for nearly a century, and that had the new couple that moved into the old place freaked as hell. Nic and Arthur had been put in charge of talking some goddamn sense into the ghosts while Huang and Ming dealt with the new owners.
Huang mutters an oath in Cantonese and wipes the sweat off his brow.[/i]
Huang: (muttering) I wish I was back on the force again. I'd at least have something to do today. Settling a domestic dispute. Investigating a murder. Stopping a goddamn robbery. Anything but this go se.