A woman with matted hair and hollow eyes didn’t have the energy to extend a hand, much less raise her arm; her open palms sunk like dead weights in her dirty dress. I’d been that hungry before, at my lowest. It’s a gnawing emptiness that stays with you. But she was wasting away from more than hunger. I reached into my wallet, something I hadn’t carried for years, not until after we all got a cut from the kidnapping, and dropped a wad of large bills into the sick woman’s lap. She didn’t notice, but a thin man beside her did, and he stared at me, his eyes too large in his gaunt face. I reached in again and thrust the rest of my bills at him. He took the cash, bowing his head over and over.

I was rich now, not rich enough to buy myself an twenty million you suit, but richer than I had ever imagined possible. Yet giving everything I might have to the sick meis did nothing to lift my mood. Because I knew that it changed nothing. Simply throwing money at them was not enough. Their existence wasn’t the heart of the sickness in Taiwan—it was a merely a symptom.

The smell of steamed buns and fried sausages from the food carts mingled with that of urine and vomit as I walked past dark, narrow side streets filled with more sick meis. I didn’t need to see them to know they were there. My stomach turned from the clash of odors. My throat felt dry, scratchy, and I wished I had an ice-cold beer to drink myself. To try and shake the futility of it all, the desperation.

Soon.

I was meeting Victor to discuss our group’s plans—and everything we needed to do before he took on his rich-you-boy identity.

I quickened my pace, broke through the covered walkways, and crossed the crowded intersection with other pedestrians, swarming like cicadas, toward my destination. The cool neon blue of the Rockaroke Building did nothing to dissipate the oppressive heat of the summer evening. Known to provide the best simulated entertainment in all of Taipei, with opulent suites to cater to your every whim and pleasure, Rockaroke was a major you destination every evening. And if your vices ran deep and you really needed to check out, the suites were available for long-term rental, starting at $250K a week. Blue and red laser lights darted and crackled over the windows of the tall glass-and-steel building, and a rooftop projector swept a neon green R and K across Taipei’s hazy skyline.