Chapter Twenty-One: Action

The old man with the staff opened his mouth, wanting to speak but hesitated. On one hand, he couldn't believe that Gu Zhongyan, a mere greenhorn, could possibly deal with the legendary Beast. On the other, knowing firsthand the power of Master Ku Yi, he doubted Gu Zhongyan would dare to impersonate such a figure and make a show of it.

This tangled mix of emotions left him at a loss for what to do. In the end, he couldn't help but ask again, "You really have met Master Ku Yi?"

"Believe it or not," replied Gu Zhongyan. "Either way, you only have two choices now. One, work with us to find Heikong and let me destroy the Beast. Two, cling stubbornly to your own plan—try to kill Heikong and stop the Beast from coming."

"If you choose the first, then everyone gets what they want and we cooperate happily. If it's the second, Matt and I will prevent you from killing Heikong and take him from you ourselves."

"But if it comes to that, it will give the Hand an opening, letting them profit from our conflict. The choice is yours."

Faced with Gu Zhongyan's unyielding stance, the old man furrowed his brow instinctively. If he had to choose, he'd still prefer to kill Heikong; it was the simplest and most effective solution. But with Gu Zhongyan refusing to back down, and Matt silently standing behind him as support, the old man knew that if he persisted, neither of them would stand idly by.

That being the case, the outcome would likely be exactly as Gu Zhongyan described: while they fought, the Hand would swoop in and take advantage.

"Are you truly confident you can destroy the Beast?" he pressed, unwilling to give up.

Seeing that the old man was beginning to yield, Gu Zhongyan eased his pressure and nodded. "Don't worry, I want to kill the Beast more than anyone. Here's what we'll do: let's capture Heikong first. Whether I can destroy the Beast or not, as long as Heikong isn't in the Hand's possession, the Beast can't descend."

"If in the end I can't kill the Beast, I'll withdraw from the matter entirely and leave everything to your discretion. How about that?"

Seeing Gu Zhongyan take a step back, the old man could only nod. "Very well, I agree. But if we only capture Heikong instead of killing him, that will definitely provoke a major assault from the Hand."

"If we can't hold them off in the end, and to prevent Heikong from falling into their hands, I may have to take emergency measures."

"It's settled then," Gu Zhongyan nodded. "Now, share the information you've gathered. When will Heikong appear?"

Now that cooperation was decided, the old man no longer concealed anything. "Tomorrow night, the Hand will transport Heikong to New York Harbor. At that time, Nobu Yoshioka will lead Fisk's men in a pickup at the docks. We need to intercept Heikong then."

"However, in the gang war between Fisk and Vladimir, they lost quite a few men. To ensure security, the Hand's ninjas may get involved this time too. Intercepting Heikong won't be easy."

"With that in mind, I've drawn up an operation plan for us to review." As he spoke, he drew a plan from his coat and handed it to the two.

Examining the operation plan, written in both Braille and English, Gu Zhongyan felt for the first time the wisdom that comes only with age. The old man, a cunning fox who had opposed the Hand for years, had a far more organized approach than those who simply relied on super-hearing and guardian spirits.

The plan detailed every structure at the harbor, the size and placement of the containers, Heikong's precise docking point, nearby cover, enemy positioning patterns—nothing was left out. From assault to retreat, everything was meticulously mapped out: the trio's capabilities, the estimated time needed to subdue each enemy, possible mistakes and contingencies—all accounted for.

The only flaw was that the plan was entirely centered around how to kill Heikong, not seize him—meaning they couldn't follow it to the letter. Even so, it was still far better than operating on instinct alone.

Late at night, the bustling New York Harbor fell silent as the sun set. At the edge of the docks, three shadowy figures blended seamlessly into the darkness, their heartbeats slowed, their breathing gentle—like three puppets, they watched the placid water in stillness.

At last, after an indeterminate wait, the sound of rolling wheels broke the silence of the night. Simultaneously, a ripple of waves sounded across the water as a battered fishing boat, bearing a rust-stained container, slowly approached the shore.

Gu Zhongyan opened his eyes, his heartbeat steady as ever.

In the dim glow, several black sedans escorted a small truck to the edge of the pier. Broad-shouldered men in suits, their faces etched with menace, spread out systematically under Nobu Yoshioka's command. Weapons glinting coldly in their hands, they scanned the surroundings with vigilance.

On the container, the trio held their breath, poised for action.

At last, the fishing boat docked. Nobu Yoshioka's face lit up with a trace of delight. At that moment, the old man gave a subtle nod.

Gu Zhongyan and Matt vanished into the darkness, moving like two swift fish to encircle their targets. Matt slipped silently up to one of the henchmen; his hand emerged from the shadows, clamping over the man's mouth and nose. A sharp blow to the neck and the man collapsed without a sound.

Like a ghost in the night, Matt felled one burly guard after another, without so much as a whisper of alarm.

Meanwhile, Gu Zhongyan moved even more deftly. Unlike Matt, who took down men one by one, Gu Zhongyan quietly uncorked a glass vial in the darkness. Guided by magic, a green mist merged with the fog, spreading silently.

Even the old man couldn't endure the poison—let alone these merely trained mortals. Wherever the mist drifted, the guards fell unconscious before they even realized something was amiss.

Like dumplings dropped in boiling water, the outer guards were dispatched with ease, leaving only a few elite men at the dock's edge.

Gu Zhongyan and Matt crept closer to the dock. At that moment, the container on the fishing boat finally opened. Inside the empty container, a thin, refugee-like Asian youth was chained within by a heavy iron shackle.

Now!

From atop the container, the old man finally moved, nocking an arrow and letting it fly with a sharp twang.

Gu Zhongyan had been watching him from the shadows, wary lest he try, as in the original tale, to slay Heikong. But this time, the old man did not betray his trust—the arrow was aimed directly at Nobu Yoshioka's heart.