"Master, what on earth is happening?"
Before Zhong Qiang, who had been practicing a form diligently, could even fully articulate his confusion, he was shouldered aside by the combined, frantic movements of Risfisk and Jack.
Both students were buzzing with a mix of fear and aggressive excitement, ready to prove their worth. Seeing their eagerness—Jack's competitive spirit clashing with Risfisk's desperate urgency—Zhong Qiang couldn't help but let his lips curl into a pout.
"Yes, trouble has arrived right on our doorstep," Huang Wen confirmed with a serious nod, his eyes still fixed on the approaching black vans that were now maneuvering to seal off the street.
"You two," he looked pointedly at Jack and Risfisk, "start organizing the students. Get every remaining neighbor out of sight. The other side is heavily armed, so be careful and don't let anyone get injured."
"I'll immediately reach out to my contacts," Risfisk said instantly, pulling out his phone, his face pale but resolute. He knew his family's influence could cut through red tape, even if it exposed his location.
"Wait for your 'contacts' to get dressed and drive over? That'll take forever!" Jack scoffed, his eyes lighting up with a dangerous determination. As a cop, he instinctively understood the clock was ticking. "Our precinct is barely three blocks away. I'm calling them in now!" He immediately picked up his police-issued phone, dialing with practiced speed.
Huang Wen watched them, then addressed the small cluster of remaining apprentices. "After you all help ensure the neighbors are safe, please disperse yourselves. The situation is about to get extremely dangerous, and I won't have innocent people caught up in this mess."
Most of the remaining students, hearing the grim warning and seeing the serious expressions on their Master's face and Logan's ready stance, had a change of heart and quietly slipped away through the back entrance.
However, a small, stubborn core remained, their eyes fixed on Huang Liang. They wanted to see the martial arts they had dedicated months to learning finally put to the test. All eyes, except for Max's, held a burning curiosity. Max, still pale and trembling slightly, was simply tense, his fear of violence battling his loyalty to the school.
The area was cleared with remarkable speed. The surrounding Chinatown residents, long accustomed to respecting the Wing Chun school's authority and warnings, swiftly retreated and locked their doors.
Just as the last student ran for cover, the sound of engines ceased, and the enemy forces materialized in the dim light of the streetlamps.
Two distinct groups, each radiating a palpable aura of professional menace, formed opposing battle lines in front of the martial arts school. Two leaders, towering and heavily armored, stood at the forefront of their respective camps.
"You already knew we were coming, didn't you? You cleared the street for us? How thoughtful!" A rough, grating voice boomed out. This voice belonged to the largest leader, a man whose skin was unnaturally grey and rock-hard—the crime boss known as Tombstone.
"Ring! Ring!"
Jack's phone blared in the sudden, tense silence. He frowned, irritated by the interruption, and answered curtly.
"Hello?"
"Boss, listen to me, the Captain won't let us go! He's sealed off the entire precinct and put the lockdown protocol in place!" A distressed voice crackled through the speaker. "The Captain said someone from 'above' gave him direct orders: no one—not a single uniform—is to interfere with anything that happens in Chinatown tonight."
"The Captain? That spineless rat!" Jack roared, his anger boiling over. "Who in God's name gave him that kind of order? Isn't he terrified that my uncle, the Commissioner, will have his badge stripped and his pension revoked?"
"The person who issued the order is operating at the same clearance level as your esteemed uncle, Detective," a mocking, synthesized voice cut through the phone line. The voice was cold, mechanical, and chillingly confident. Before Jack could respond, the line went dead.
Jack's face was a mask of shock and fury. He slowly lowered the phone, turning to Huang Wen with a deeply apologetic shake of his head. "I apologize, Master. These people… they aren't common thugs. They're fully compromised. The people they have backing them are high-ranking officials in the NYPD. Even going through my father's political connections would take days, not minutes."
"Oh? They wield influence at that level?" A genuine flicker of surprise crossed Huang Wen's expression. He hadn't expected to be the target of an organized threat that could instantly neutralize the city's law enforcement apparatus.
This level of coordination, influence, and military-grade gear suggested an operation far exceeding the capabilities of a typical street gang. Influence no less than the Kingpin's, perhaps even greater.
Huang Wen immediately directed his attention to Risfisk, who was looking at him with a face consumed by guilt and fear. Now the puzzle clicked into place. These two organized crime families, known for their powerful abilities and deep underworld connections, weren't targeting Huang Wen. They were here for the Kingpin's son.
"Quite the security detail you have, Kingpin's boy," the second leader chuckled, stepping forward. He was a stocky man with a strangely misshapen head.
"What? You really think this ragtag crew of martial arts rejects can protect you? Fisk is truly losing his mind. The Punisher already knows your location, and yet you're still left here, exposed. We almost thought it was a trap!" This was Hammerhead.
"Perhaps the Kingpin's confidence has made him utterly foolish!" Tombstone sneered, his voice rattling in the air. He raised a massive, armored hand, and instantly, dozens of his men pulled out their heavy firearms, leveling them at the small group standing in front of the martial arts school. "Luckily, that little pest with the negative aura didn't bother showing his face. Otherwise, we would have been forced to split the bounty even further!"
"Master, they are two of the biggest gang forces in New York," Risfisk explained quickly, his voice tight with desperation. "The grey one is Tombstone, and the other is Hammerhead. They both possess 'acquired abilities'—enhanced physicality." He looked at Huang Wen with raw apology.
"I am so sorry, Master. I have brought this trouble to your doorstep, again. It seems the death of that Puzzle lunatic has triggered the entire criminal ecosystem to move against my father."
"Acquired abilities… and firearms?" Huang Wen let out a soft, almost soundless sigh, the faint, easy smile returning to his lips. He waved a dismissive hand, not an action of surrender, but of absolute power.
"Alright. Let's make this a fair fight, gentlemen."
"WHOOSH!"
With a sudden, massive surge of his Psychokinetic Energy, Huang Wen used his ability—a perfect imitation of Magneto's power—to simultaneously seize control of every firearm, every knife, and every metallic piece of equipment wielded by the two hundreds of gangsters.
Rifles, handguns, knives, and even armored plates were instantly ripped from the stunned men's hands, swirling into a dense, metallic vortex high above the street, suspended by an invisible force.
"Now, that's fair. No guns, just fists and feet." Huang Wen gave a simple instruction, settling the fate of the entire battle. He waved his hand again, and the folding wooden stool used for the lottery at the school magically flew over, landing gently beneath his rear.
Huang Wen sat down, crossing his legs, looking utterly relaxed, as if he were attending a performance rather than directing a lethal street battle. He was like a spectator waiting for the main event, almost tempted to pull out a bag of melon seeds.
He wasn't merely watching; he was acting as the overall overseer, ensuring that none of his students, even the greenest ones, were seriously injured during their baptism of fire.
"A… a mutant? Magneto? No, Magneto is far older and weaker than this fool!" Tombstone gasped, his eyes widening in shock. Both he and Hammerhead finally grasped why Kingpin felt so secure leaving his son under this man's protection.
"We are prepared to pay double, whatever Kingpin is compensating you!" Hammerhead yelled, his voice strained by fear, trying desperately to appeal to simple greed. "You clearly don't understand our true influence. Combined, the power and reach of our two organizations dwarf that of Kingpin in the everyday criminal world!"
"These two are all ours," Logan growled, his voice guttural and impatient. He and Yuriko, who had been completely silent until this moment, rushed forward as a single, blur-like entity. They seemed less interested in the money and more in finishing the fight quickly so they could get back to the cartoon they were watching.
"Careful! That Hammerhead fool was previously injured and had his skull entirely replaced with reinforced titanium! He is known to have an almost invulnerable iron head!" Risfisk shouted, leading the charge with his nervous students toward the scores of suddenly disarmed gangsters.
"Invulnerable iron head, you say?" Logan blinked once, a terrifying, carnivorous grin stretching his mouth.
Hammerhead, enraged by the sudden theft of his weapon, saw the smaller figure charging him. He immediately lowered his massive, surgically reinforced head, preparing to execute his signature move—a crushing, bone-shattering headbutt designed to turn Logan's skull into pulp.
"CLANG!"
Hammerhead's greatest weapon met its absolute, undeniable superior. No matter the purity of the industrial alloy used in his metallic skull, it was nothing compared to a head fully plated in Adamantium.
Logan barely staggered a half-step backward. Hammerhead, however, suffered a catastrophic, concussive trauma. His entire reinforced titanium skull audibly shattered, collapsing inward with a sickening crunch. The man's eyes glazed over instantly, and he pitched forward, collapsing like a felled redwood, his body dead before it hit the pavement.
The invincible headbutt had met its match—and lost instantaneously.
"What in the actual hell?!" Tombstone's pupils constricted violently. His old rival, a man who had survived countless attacks and gunshots, was just neutralized by a headbutt. In that horrifying moment, his sharp memory flashed, recognizing the terrifying, feral figure. "Wolverine? The… the Undying Wolf?!"
"Watch out, Logan! Tombstone is impervious to both blades and bullets, highly resistant to electricity, and can generate extremely high temperatures on his skin's surface! He's far tougher than that Hammerhead imbecile!" Risfisk screamed, his warning a fraction of a second too late.
"Whoosh!"
Before the information could even register, Yuriko, moving with the cold, silent efficiency of a killing machine, was already on Tombstone. Her own Adamantium claws, extensions of her father's rage and Stryker's engineering, pierced straight through the supposedly impervious grey skin. They tore effortlessly through muscle, bone, and his super-dense internal organs, sinking deep into his heart.