Chapter 68: Blowing the Whistle (Seek to Continue Reading)

At the Assassin Alliance.

In the training room, Smith was wearing a weighted vest and working out, rapidly throwing punches and kicks as well as doing one-fingered handstand push-ups, occasionally firing a ki-dan (energy blast) to destroy moving targets.

"Ha! Ha!"

"Boom!"

Watching the shattered targets, Smith didn't even break a sweat. Too weak. The training environment here was far too easy. He needed the gravity chamber to push himself harder — otherwise, this was nothing more than a warm-up.

Just then, the training room doors opened and Fox walked in. Seeing the shattered targets on the floor, her eyes were full of envy.

"Smith, there's a letter here you need to see."

"Swoosh!"

Smith instantly flashed in front of Fox, so fast she only felt a gust of wind.

"Who sent it?"

As he spoke, Smith took the letter and tore it open.

Fox explained: "There's no sender. This letter was shot into the castle on a throwing knife, pinned right into a column."

Smith was intrigued — so that's how it was delivered. Interesting.

Reading the text on the letter, Smith frowned slightly — it wasn't handwritten, but printed. And the contents were unexpected: someone had blown the whistle, telling him that the Hand was about to make a massive move into New York.

Thinking over the contents, Smith recalled what he knew about the Hand. The organization had five leaders — Alexandra, Madame Gao, Botu, Sowande, and Murakami — all former K'un-Lun elders who'd been expelled. The five founded the Hand and had survived for five hundred years, sustaining themselves and resurrecting through dragon bones.

The Hand, the Chaste led by Stick, and the Assassin Alliance were all long-time enemies. The Hand's five fingers were formidable, but the Alliance's long-range assassinations were terrifying as well — they'd fought each other evenly for years. When Sloan rose to leadership, both sides paused their conflict, and even after Sloan's death, there had only been occasional clashes.

As for why they were coming to New York — in the original timeline, it was because Madame Gao had a drug factory in Hell's Kitchen, and also because the Rand Corporation owned a half-finished building under which dragon bones lay buried. But coming this early, and in such force — could it really be just for dragon bones?

Smith thought for a moment and guessed another possibility: the Dragon Balls.

After all, thanks to Gamora's bounty and John's notoriety, the Dragon Balls had become fairly well-known in the underworld, fetching two million dollars apiece. The Hand could very well be coming early because of that — though these Dragon Balls weren't the same as those.

Even so, the dragon bones were a good prize. Whether for resurrection or longevity, they were a perfect reward and insurance for his loyal subordinates.

As for who was so skilled with throwing knives — the most famous in New York was Bullseye, Kingpin's underling.

Having sorted his thoughts, Smith said: "Our old foe the Hand is coming to New York. This time, we'll make sure they don't leave."

"Call a high-level meeting, expand it by three — you, Wesley, and John Wick will also attend."

Fox nodded. "Alright, I'll notify everyone now."

On the other side.

At the top floor of Fisk Tower.

Kingpin stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, overlooking the dazzling lights of Hell's Kitchen. Whenever night fell, he was the king here.

By day he bowed to the government — by night, the government bowed to him.

At that moment, a thought rose in his mind: the High Table hadn't forced him to kneel — and neither would the Hand.

Just then, a knock on the door.

"Come in," Kingpin called.

The door opened and Bullseye entered, reporting: "Boss, I've already delivered the letter to the Assassin Alliance's headquarters. They should now know the Hand plans to move into New York."

"Do you want me to disguise myself as a Hand ninja and assassinate some of their members to frame the Hand? I'm pretty good with shuriken too."

Clearly, Bullseye was a restless sort, eager to stir the pot between the two great powers.

Kingpin turned, gripping his cane, his voice icy: "Bullseye, don't make trouble. This time, I don't want a single trace left behind."

"I've already investigated — the Assassin Alliance and the Hand are already enemies. Just telling them the Hand is coming will be enough to set them off."

"Remember, the Assassin Alliance's base is right here in New York."

"Our job is to stay alive while they fight each other. Let them burn."

Bullseye had to suppress his urge, and replied: "Yes, boss. I won't interfere in their fight. But recently there's been this guy always messing with us — I'll see if I can find a chance to deal with him."

Seeing Bullseye's constant itch to do something, this time Kingpin didn't object. That so-called Daredevil was indeed an annoyance — though he didn't kill, he'd disrupted plenty of their deals.

"Go deal with him then. He's a nuisance anyway."

Hearing Kingpin's agreement, Bullseye smirked and said: "I won't show mercy like he does."

With that, Bullseye withdrew, closing the office door behind him.

As he left, another thought arose in Kingpin's mind — if the Hand and the Assassin Alliance somehow didn't fight, then this so-called Daredevil might be the perfect wedge to drive them apart. He wondered: between Daredevil and the Night Demon, who was stronger?

On the conference table, a cellphone lit up — the caller was Madame Gao.

Kingpin answered: "Yes, yes. I've already gathered all the intelligence on John Wick and the Dragon Balls, and I've collected some on Smith as well, though it's from before the High Table fell."

"Mhm, mhm. I'll send you all of it shortly."

"Nothing big has happened in New York lately, and the Assassin Alliance hasn't made any major moves. They're probably still digesting the spoils of destroying the High Table."

"Alright. For some matters, we'll talk face-to-face. Yes, I'll pay you a visit once you arrive."

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(End of Chapter)

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