The hot pot restaurant was a cacophony of cheerful chatter and bubbling broth. The surviving students, still riding the high of their victory over two major New York crime syndicates, were eating, drinking, and recounting their favorite moments of the fight in exaggerated detail.
The sheer exhilaration of having faced down certain death and emerged triumphant was intoxicating. In the cozy, steamy atmosphere of the restaurant, they were untouchable—no common robber would dare approach this den of heroes.
Amidst the boisterous celebration, Huang Wen was gently but firmly steered away from the main dining area and into the quiet sanctity of the kitchen by Uncle Zhong. The older man's face, usually beaming with warmth, was etched with a deep crease of concern.
"Xiao Wen, my boy, I need a moment of your time," Uncle Zhong began, his voice lowered. He leaned in conspiratorially.
"Tell me truthfully, will this… this madness… bring trouble back to your doorstep? I've never heard of those two gangs, but those were professional soldiers, and they carried enough firepower to level the whole block. They were far beyond the scope of those Star Gang hoodlums or even the Brotherhood, weren't they?"
Huang Wen smiled reassuringly, placing a calming hand on Uncle Zhong's arm. "Don't you worry your head over it, Uncle Zhong. We are absolutely fine. Look at the situation: we have Detective Jack, a man climbing the legitimate ladder of the police department, handling the entire legal cleanup. And we have Reece Fisk, the son of the underworld's very own Kingpin, ensuring the dark side leaves us alone."
He paused, his gaze softening. "Besides, even if the city's entire underworld decided to converge on this street right now, I am still here. I promised you, Uncle Zhong—nothing will happen in Chinatown while I stand here."
The reassurance was comforting, but it didn't fully address the core of Uncle Zhong's anxiety. He hesitated, his eyes searching Huang Wen's with a profound seriousness that demanded the truth.
"Xiao Wen, what exactly are those powers you demonstrated tonight? The floating guns, the speed… it's not martial arts, is it? Not truly." He shook his head slowly. "Even if your family possessed some ancient, powerful lineage of martial arts, it shouldn't be this powerful. If your father had abilities like that, he wouldn't have… he wouldn't have gotten into that fatal mess years ago."
Huang Wen knew this was the moment. He couldn't lie to the man who was closer to a father than anyone else. He decided to use the vague, emotional truth.
"Do you remember, Uncle Zhong, the day after my father died, when I collapsed in the street? The day everyone thought… I had died too?" Huang Wen's voice dropped to a near whisper.
"That moment changed everything. At that exact point, when I was at the very edge of life and death, it felt as though something in me broke open. A dormant force, perhaps, a blessing or a transformation—I can't name it. But when I woke up, the world felt… different. I could do things I never imagined. I could perceive things I shouldn't."
He looked into Uncle Zhong's moist eyes, injecting sincerity into his gaze. "Those abilities, whatever they are, came to me in the aftermath of my father's death. They are now my shield. They are what allow me to protect this place and honor his memory. You don't need to understand the how, only the what: I am powerful enough to guarantee the safety of the school and the neighborhood."
Uncle Zhong stared at him for a long moment, processing the impossible explanation. He saw no lie, only profound, heartfelt conviction. He ultimately settled on the only conclusion that made sense to his traditional mind. "I understand," he said, a wide, relieved smile slowly spreading across his face.
"That must be your father, watching over you from the other side, giving you the strength he never had. His blessing is upon you." He patted Huang Wen's shoulder firmly. "So, you must live well, Xiao Wen. And on that note, you are certainly not a young boy anymore! It's high time you found a nice girl to date, settle down, and bring some happiness back into your life…"
"Ahem!" Huang Wen choked on his own breath, completely taken off guard by the sudden, strategic shift from mystical powers to matchmaking. "Uncle Zhong, please! I'm starving! I need to go back and eat before the students finish all the good cuts of meat!"
"Don't run off! Do you want Uncle Zhong to help you find someone? I hear the daughter of the local baker is quite lovely and polite…" Uncle Zhong pressed on, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Why are you moving so fast?!"
Huang Wen didn't pause to answer. With a playful flash of movement that looked like he'd been swapped out for a different person, he vanished from the kitchen door and reappeared moments later, leaning against the main entrance frame, shaking his head at Uncle Zhong's relentless pursuit of his happiness.
"Teacher, did you just… appear from the doorway?" Max, who had unwisely consumed a bit too much beer, squinted at him in confusion. "I swear I saw you walk into the kitchen. No, I must stop drinking. I'm definitely hallucinating now…"
"Ring! Ring!" Jack's phone broke the spell. Jack immediately stood up, his posture instantly shifting back to the sharp, focused detective. He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, knowing the heavy responsibilities waiting for him.
"Master, my uncle is here," Jack whispered, his excitement palpable as he nodded towards the street.
"Go. You handle it. I'm not getting involved tonight," Huang Wen responded with a wave of his hand. He then sat down beside the confused Max, casually taking Max's beer glass away. "If you can't hold your liquor, then you shouldn't drink so much. We don't encourage peer pressure drinking here."
"Yes, Teacher, understood." Max, instantly chastened, smiled warmly, grabbed a piece of beef with his chopsticks, and focused on eating.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Jack's face. He had really hoped his uncle, the powerful First Deputy Commissioner, could meet the mysterious and formidable Master Huang Wen. But Jack quickly reminded himself that the Kingpin himself only managed to send his son, Reece Fisk, not attend personally. This small victory made him feel better.
Jack strode out of the restaurant. As he exited, Bullseye, still perched silently on a nearby rooftop—having been commanded to "maintain order"—gave a barely perceptible nod, acknowledging the police official. Bullseye knew better than to interfere; he had heard Huang Wen's instructions and, more importantly, recognized the political leverage Jack possessed.
Just as Jack reached the sidewalk, a caravan of unmarked, high-end police vehicles and tactical response units pulled up to the curb in Chinatown, surrounding the neatly immobilized piles of gang members. A distinguished, middle-aged man in an expensive suit, Chief Andy, the First Deputy Commissioner, stepped out, his face alight with a politician's practiced satisfaction.
"Jack! You made the absolute right decision to join the force, son. And you did a phenomenal job tonight! A brilliant tactical strike," Andy announced, clapping Jack on the shoulder as he surveyed the scene.
He then lowered his voice, dropping into the familiar, rhythmic cadence of their family code. "When are these… bodies… ready for transport? And what is Kingpin's henchman doing loitering on that roof?"
Jack responded in the same, precise code, his voice calm and controlled. "The Hammer and the Tombstone were targeting Kingpin's son, Reece. He is also a student of the Master here. The Master insisted that we insulate both Chinatown and Rhys from the official record. My cover story is prepared and will be delivered immediately to your office." He didn't forget his most crucial protégé. "And I ensured the young Max, one of my trainees, gets the full credit for stumbling upon this 'secret meeting' and calling it in."
Chief Andy nodded slowly, approvingly. "Good. Very good. That you have managed to align yourself with a powerful ability user, and even acquire some of his training, is a remarkable asset." He gestured dismissively toward the immobilized thugs.
"The official credit for this incident, combined with the comprehensive evidence provided by Chief Inspector Duke, is sufficient. It is more than enough to force the resignation of your current Precinct Chief and secure your immediate promotion."
Andy looked Jack directly in the eye, dropping the code entirely for the political punchline. "To ascend to the position of Precinct Chief at your age is an immense achievement. It provides a foundational layer of legitimacy and experience that will ease your transition, regardless of which ultimate path you choose to take in the future."
"So, Inspector Duke is willing to sacrifice the Chief to protect himself?" Jack internalized the information instantly. Chief Inspector Duke was the powerful political operator who had been propping up the disgraced Chief. Duke's willingness to surrender his immediate pawn was a clear sign of weakness and damage control.
"Precisely," Andy confirmed. "Since Duke has come forward to offer a substantial sacrifice and a clear path forward, there is no need to make him an outright enemy. Having Chief Inspector Duke as a silent, indebted ally will certainly cement your authority as the new Precinct Chief." He gave Jack a final, knowing look. "The price of this promotion is simple: let the matter drop here. Do not dig further up the chain for the stand-down order."
"Understood, Director. The chain of command ends with the former Chief's immediate departure," Jack affirmed, accepting the political compromise.
"Excellent. There will be a major press conference tomorrow morning. Ensure your statements and reports are meticulously prepared. You need to personally escort these high-profile detainees downtown," Director Andy ordered. "Now, go say your farewells to your teacher."
As Jack turned to go, Director Andy looked up towards Bullseye's shadowy perch. His voice, though not in code, carried a chilling authority that resonated across the street.
"Tell your master, the Kingpin, this: everyone who matters is fully aware of his ambition. The only reason we tolerate his consolidation of power is that we demand a stable, predictable environment in New York. If he genuinely disrupts the established order, if he crosses the line from controlling the darkness to causing chaos on the surface, then he should not expect us to remain polite. He will face consequences far beyond his current political reach!"
Bullseye chuckled softly, his figure flickering with predatory contempt. "Heh heh, 'First Deputy Director'? What a boastful title. Come talk to my Master when you drop the 'Deputy' part!" With a lightning-fast, silent leap, Bullseye vanished into the deeper shadows of the night. He had delivered his boss's surveillance report, and now he had secured the city's message for his master. His job was done.
Jack returned to the hot pot restaurant, finding Max still happily eating.
"Teacher, I have to leave now. Max, you need to come with me immediately. We need to get your official statement recorded," Jack said, unable to hide the grin of a man on the cusp of his greatest victory.
Huang Wen stood up, his own smile genuine. He patted Jack firmly on the shoulder. "Go and make us proud, Detective. Take good care of Max, and I look forward to seeing the news report announcing your swift rise to Precinct Chief."
"Thank you, Teacher. I will ensure Max is treated like the hero he is, and I will not let you down!" Jack nodded happily, pulling a slightly confused but compliant Max away from the table. They left the celebration, quickly climbing into one of the unmarked police vehicles to head towards the police headquarters, where the serious, high-stakes political maneuvering would begin.
Back at the restaurant, the remaining trainees finished their meal. As the hour grew late, they all dispersed, heading home to their beds. But their sleep was anything but restful; it was filled with vivid, victorious dreams of the night's fight, a permanent, exhilarating mark left on their young lives.