Broken Tooth led Cobus into the Emperor Sauna, where he was bathed in the pink neon glow of the lobby. A dozen teen girls stood in a line like mannequins, wearing color-coded schoolgirl outfits based on what services they offered. Cobus scanned the tableau in bewilderment, feeling as if he had just stepped into a science fiction story set on some alien planet.

Cobus’s eyes fell on a booth in the corner, where a middle-aged john groped the buttocks of a girl straddling his lap. She couldn’t be more than thirteen years old. Cobus tried to tamp down his disgust. He was in the jungle now. And in the jungle, there is no right and wrong—only predators and prey. He would need to hold on to that bit of wisdom if he planned to survive this game he was playing.

Cobus followed Broken Tooth up the stairs to the half-empty VIP floor, where his boss, Wan Koi, held court as three breathtakingly gorgeous young women pole-danced nearby. Wan was in his thirties, dressed thug-chic in brand-name attire. His arms were covered in tattoos of dragons and tigers. He had the look of a man who had no intention of ever engaging in civilized Chinese society.

Broken Tooth approached Wan and whispered in his ear. Cobus stood before Wan, each predator studying the other to see where he fit in nature’s hierarchy.

“Pretty girls,” Cobus uttered, nonchalantly evaluating the crown jewels of Wan’s sex empire.

“When they get old, we sell them to the Middle East,” Wan informed Cobus matter-of-factly. “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

Cobus was surprised. It was the first English he had heard since he stepped off the ferry. His host spoke it perfectly, albeit with a light accent.

Wan stubbed out his cigarette. “So you are the man with the bamboo.”

Wan’s convoy snaked through the tight streets of Taipa. The South African had promised to deliver a sizable amount of horn, and Wan wished to inspect it in a secure location. He rode separately from Cobus, not yet trusting the white man who had come seeking access to his business.

The cars approached the security checkpoint for the container port, where they passed through without showing any credentials. It was a roundabout journey for Cobus to end up only a few hundred meters from the ferry terminal where he had landed earlier in the evening. Though they could have saved half a day if Wan had just met him at the terminal, Cobus wasn’t surprised at all the back-and-forth. Wan wasn’t the kind of guy who came to you—unless, of course, you were the Sky Dragon, the capo dei capi of the Sun Yee On triads.

Cobus followed Wan and his security detail through a warehouse, where a dozen men were sorting shipments of pills and bricks, which, based on his own history of substance abuse, he assumed were speed or cocaine. Cobus knew that being allowed to see the narcotics escalated the jeopardy he was in. It indicated that by the end of the meeting, Wan intended either to be in business with the South African or to make him disappear.