CH: 139 - Shadows and Steel

{Chapter: 139 - Shadows and Steel}

Laurel and Oliver seemed to be enjoying a rare moment of peace. Their conversation flowed with surprising ease, a nostalgic echo of their more innocent past. Laurel had always had a sharp mind, and her banter with Oliver—light teasing layered with subtle emotional probing—was something he had missed more than he'd ever admit.

"It's kind of weird, huh?" Laurel said with a smile. "Us... just talking like this again. No masks. No lies."

Oliver gave her a small chuckle, but there was a weight in his eyes that hadn't been there in the past. "Yeah. Feels like... a lifetime ago."

She nodded, her gaze softening. "You're different now."

"You have no idea," he muttered, though not unkindly.

Up above, cloaked in shadow and watching from the rooftop, Aiden adjusted the edge of his suit with mild impatience. The high-tech armor shimmered faintly under the moonlight, and though he could hear every word exchanged in the apartment below, he didn't care. Their unresolved drama was not his business. At least, not unless it directly impacted the mission.

Then came a shift.

Inside, Oliver suddenly paused mid-laugh. His features tensed.

"Did you hear that?" he asked, his voice instantly serious, every ounce of warmth gone.

Laurel blinked, confused. "Hear what?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached for the fruit knife resting beside a half-eaten apple on the counter. It wasn't much, but in his hands, even kitchenware could become lethal. His years on the island—and everything after—had trained him to react to the faintest sign of danger.

Laurel followed him, her instincts as a junior prosecutor and daughter of a cop kicking in. She wasn't used to being part of the action, but she refused to stay behind either.

Bang!

The apartment door burst open with a deafening crash.

Without hesitation, Oliver grabbed Laurel's wrist and pulled her into a sprint. Gunshots rang out instantly behind them, rapid and relentless, tearing through the air with sharp, metallic screams. Bullets shredded the walls as they ran for cover, narrowly dodging the deadly barrage. The hallway turned into a war zone in seconds.

They ducked into the bedroom—only for the window to shatter violently as another attacker burst through.

Trapped.

There was no time to think. Oliver's hand went to his waist instinctively, but he had left his bow and gear behind. He was just a man now. A man with muscle memory and a deeply-ingrained sense of protection. He pivoted, placing himself squarely in front of Laurel.

Then came another threat.

A woman—striking and deadly—stepped into view.

She wore a skin-tight black leather suit, her long silver-white hair gleaming in the dim light. In her hands, she held two short blades, gleaming with menace. There was no doubt who she was.

Na Wei. Codename: China White. Triad Enforcer. Assassin. Ghost of the underworld.

Oliver's jaw clenched. He knew her from the list. He had faced her before—and barely survived. She was dangerous, fast, and absolutely merciless.

Behind him, Laurel whispered, "Who is she?"

But before Oliver could answer, the man from earlier reappeared in the doorway, his gun now trained squarely on Oliver's chest.

Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. No weapons. No advantage.

Oliver did the only thing he could—he braced himself, shielding Laurel with his body, ready to take the bullet.

PAH!

A gunshot rang out, echoing like thunder.

But the pain never came.

Instead, the man with the gun dropped to the floor, blood pooling beneath him.

Oliver's breath caught in his throat, stunned.

Another shot rang out, and another attacker fell.

A calm, steady voice echoed through the chaos:

"Looks like I arrived just in time."

From the hallway's end, a figure stepped into the light, emerald suit glowing faintly in the gloom.

Aiden.

Oliver's relief was instant and unguarded. "It's you...?"

The system notification echoed in Aiden's mind:

> [Green Arrow: Oliver Queen. Friendship rate has increased by 30%]

He hadn't expected such a leap in rapport, but it seemed that protecting Laurel had made all the difference. Heroics worked well in theory, but when someone's life was actually on the line—especially someone close to the target—the emotional impact soared.

Aiden raised an eyebrow. Guess the world really likes saving damsels. He wasn't complaining.

Laurel stared in awe. "Is he... is he the Green Lantern? The one who saved you before?"

Oliver gave a nod, his eyes still locked on Aiden. "Yeah. That's him."

Aiden didn't waste time. "We can catch up later. China White's on the run. I'm going after her."

Sure enough, Na Wei had vanished in the confusion, her instincts guiding her to retreat the moment she saw Aiden arrive. The Triad didn't believe in needless sacrifice. Especially not her.

Without waiting for approval, Aiden sprinted to the shattered window and launched himself into the night sky, vanishing like a shadow cast by a dying flame.

Oliver turned to Laurel. "We need to get out of here."

They didn't get far before a new figure emerged—this one less mysterious and more familiar.

John Diggle—Oliver's personal bodyguard, ex-military, and soon-to-be confidant—appeared in the hallway, weapon drawn and ready. His tactical mind had clearly kicked into overdrive.

"Are you two alright?" Dig asked, his tone clipped but concerned.

"We're fine," Oliver replied. "Thanks to Green Lantern."

Not long after, footsteps stormed the building as Laurel's father, Quentin Lance, arrived with backup. Once a grizzled detective, now the newly appointed mayor of Star City, Quentin still moved like a man trained to handle crisis.

His eyes locked onto his daughter, and for a second, the mask of authority slipped. "Laurel!"

"Dad, I'm fine," she said quickly.

Quentin turned his sharp, skeptical gaze to Oliver. "What the hell happened here?"

"We were attacked. Triad. She was here for Laurel, I think. But Green Lantern intervened," Oliver answered.

Quentin's frown deepened. "Green Lantern again? The same guy from Coast City?"

"That's what it looks like."

"You expect me to believe this guy just happens to show up every time you're in danger?" Quentin snapped, then took a breath. "You sure you don't know him better than you're saying?"

Oliver met his gaze without flinching. "I don't. I swear."

Eventually, Quentin relented, though his expression remained distrustful. "Whoever he is, keep him away from my daughter."

As the building began to fill with emergency responders and shaken tenants, Oliver escorted Laurel to safety.

But his mind remained elsewhere.

China White was still out there.

And Aiden—whoever he really was—had just become a major player in the silent war for Star City's soul.

---

Na Wei—known in certain criminal circles as China White—was more than just a contract killer. She was a legend in the underworld, a ruthless assassin operating under the flag of the Triad. Years of bloodshed had sharpened her instincts to a razor's edge. The moment she sensed the balance tipping out of her favor back at the apartment, she didn't hesitate. Disengage. Retreat. Survive.

Those were the principles she lived by.

And she followed them to the letter.

Her movements were swift, deliberate. As she fled through the back alleys of Star City, she utilized every trick in the book to disappear—doubling back on her trail, cutting through construction zones, slipping into shadowed corridors, and changing her route on a whim. A skilled tracker would have to be clairvoyant to keep up. She dropped smokescreens—literally and metaphorically—and even tossed a burner phone into a trash fire along the way.

Thirty minutes later, she reached the docks—a port long abandoned by commercial enterprise but frequently used by smugglers, gunrunners, and yes, even assassins with a plan for escape. Her boat, a sleek black speedboat modified for silence and agility, was already waiting for her by the pier.

She didn't hesitate. Her boots hit the wooden planks in rapid succession as she leapt aboard, signaling the crew with a wave of her hand. The engines hummed to life with a soft whine, and in seconds, the boat glided across the water, away from Star City and all its complications.

Inside the cabin, Na Wei finally let herself breathe.

She didn't trust easily, but the Triad had assured her this port was secure. Still, her hand hovered near her twin blades.

That man—wasn't ordinary. Laurel and Oliver might have only seen a costumed vigilante making a dramatic save, but she had seen more. A strange, luminous energy had surrounded him. His presence disrupted the air itself, bending it like heat rising off concrete. She had crossed paths with metahumans before, but this… this was different. There was a discipline in him, a calm authority, as if violence was only a small part of what he could do.

He hadn't chased her.

That fact unnerved her more than anything.

"Too arrogant," she muttered, trying to convince herself. "Or too confident."

Her heart was finally beginning to slow when she caught a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye. A dark silhouette emerged silently from the shadows of the cabin.

She froze.

Her hand reached for her blades in a blur as she turned to face the intruder—and stopped.

He was already standing there.

Leaning casually against the wall of the cabin, his posture relaxed, his eyes unreadable, and an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The dark green suit clung to his frame like a second skin. The emblem on his chest, a glowing ring of emerald light, identified him without the need for words.

"Green Lantern…" Na Wei's eyes narrowed. "You followed me."

"I didn't need to follow you," he replied smoothly, stepping into the dim glow of the cabin lights. "I just had to let you lead me."

"You're playing a dangerous game," she said, pulling her short blades free, their tips gleaming under the dim light. "I'm with the Triad. That means something in this world."

Aiden raised an eyebrow. "You're afraid."

Na Wei's breath caught. Her jaw clenched.

He smiled again—calm, disarming, and infuriating.

"That's why you're hiding behind the Triad's name," he said. "Real power doesn't need to announce itself. It just is."

"I'm not afraid," she spat.

"Oh?" Aiden stepped forward, slowly, as if testing her boundaries. "Then prove it. Attack me. Show me what the White Demon of Kowloon can do."

She didn't need a second invitation.

Her legs moved before her mind even fully registered the choice. She dashed forward, blades flashing like lightning, honed instincts kicking in. Her entire body became a weapon, her form perfected over years of training. Her target: his heart.

But when her blade reached the edge of his chest—

It stopped.

Completely.

She pushed harder, using every ounce of force in her body, but the tip of her blade hung motionless in midair, as if embedded in a wall of invisible stone.

Her eyes widened.

He hadn't flinched. He hadn't even raised his arm to block. The space around him shimmered slightly, like water held in suspension.

"What—?" she gasped, stunned.

Aiden looked down at her with something between disappointment and pity.

"You're good," he said. "Fast. Dangerous. But you've spent your whole life sharpening a sword to fight people who bleed. That's not me."

*****

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