That Person's Underling?

Daredevil had once been Richard's favorite Marvel TV series. He had watched each of its three seasons at least three times. He might not remember every character clearly, but he still had a deep impression of anyone who had appeared in Daredevil.

For example, Nobu Yoshioka.

This ninja held no low position within The Hand. He appeared in the first season of Daredevil and possessed boss-level combat strength in the show. The famous Daredevil was simply no match for him. After several exchanges, Daredevil had not even touched a hair on him, while he himself had been battered all over. If Daredevil had not crossed his own no-killing line and used the room's fluorescent tubes to pull a dirty trick and burn Nobu to death, Daredevil would definitely have been the one to die in a fair fight.

So it was hardly strange that Richard remembered a character with so much screen time, one who had nearly killed the protagonist. But from Nobu Yoshioka's perspective, things were entirely different.

In the TV series, Nobu Yoshioka was responsible for negotiating with New York gangs and managing part of The Hand's affairs in New York, but he had not yet taken on so many positions. At present, Nobu was merely one of The Hand's several generals stationed in New York. Logically, only people within the organization should have known his name.

Who was this guy in the black coat? How did he know his name?

Sweat began to bead on Nobu's forehead, and all manner of terrifying guesses rose unbidden in his mind. He began imagining Richard as some powerful figure with an enormous background. Since the other man recognized him, he surely knew more secrets about The Hand. Compared to people like the police or gangs, someone like this was a far greater threat.

No matter what, he could not be allowed to leave.

With that thought in mind, Nobu struggled to his feet. His gaze turned cold as he produced another dagger. He gathered the "chi" within his body once more, his blade flashing like a flower before him. Then he lunged forward in a burst of speed and hurled himself at Richard again.

But Nobu had already been severely injured by the backlash, and both the power and speed of his attacks were far inferior to before. Richard watched the dazzling blade light rush toward him and did not dodge at all. He merely gripped the throwing knife he had seized and thrust straight ahead.

The silver blade drove directly through the center, as though slicing open that web of blades. It perfectly and precisely slipped around Nobu's swinging trajectory, then plunged into his heart with a wet thunk.

Nobu Yoshioka's eyes went wide. He let out a pained groan, clutched the heart pierced through by the throwing knife, staggered back several steps, and fell onto his back.

With his heart pierced by a blade, even if this ninja had been ten times more badass, he should have been dead. But Richard knew perfectly well that this was not over. The Hand had some secret method of extending life. As long as the corpse and bones remained, no matter how thoroughly dead someone was, they could be dragged back from the gates of hell. In other words, if he wanted to solve this problem once and for all, he would have to finish him off and blast the body into scraps so they would have nothing left to resurrect.

But that step would have to wait a little longer.

Richard stopped moving. Without even turning his head, he spoke as if talking to himself. "Are you planning to squat there all night, or do you want me to drag you out?"

The darkness remained silent for several seconds. Then a figure slowly emerged from the shadows in a corner.

It was a hunched old woman leaning on a pitch-black wooden cane. Her tiny eyes were almost narrowed into slits, and she looked exactly like the vicious old crone from a fairy tale.

Richard turned his head to glance at her and could not help narrowing his eyes slightly.

Madame Gao, one of The Hand's Five Fingers, was a traitor who had fled the hidden realm of K'un-Lun. This old woman had lived for more than four hundred years and was truly accomplished in chi cultivation. At least, judging by her portrayal in the TV series, she was the kind of expert who could send a car flying through the air with a single palm strike. Daredevil had been defeated by her in one move and was completely no match for her.

The ancient hag slowly walked out on her cane, seemingly unconcerned that her capable subordinate had just been stabbed through the heart. She trembled her way into the light. If Richard had not known better, he might truly have been fooled by her frail, decrepit appearance.

Madame Gao stopped and sized Richard up from head to toe.

"From the look of you, you do not seem to be from S.H.I.E.L.D., or any other government agency." She spoke slowly. "Then, are you the one known as 'Shafolin'... or one of his subordinates?"

Richard froze instantly.

What the hell? How had this gotten dragged back to Shafolin again?

Who knew how Madame Gao interpreted his reaction, but the old woman nodded with an understanding expression. "Then you must be his subordinate. Do not look so surprised. I know your master does not like showing his face, but we of The Hand have our own channels of information. I had long heard of that person's name..."

The more she spoke, the more dumbfounded Richard looked. By the end, she even sounded somewhat proud of how well-informed The Hand was, as though merely having heard the name "Shafolin" proved their intelligence network was exceptional.

Richard was practically speechless.

First Kingpin, and now The Hand. What was wrong with these people?

"Heard of him long ago," my ass. That would have been a real ghost story. Richard had only casually mentioned the name "Shafolin" to Kingpin a few weeks ago. He had not even come up with the character's backstory yet. How had it already spread from one to ten and from ten to a hundred?

From Madame Gao's perspective, someone who knew so much about The Hand and possessed such exceptional skills could not possibly be some random passerby who had popped out of nowhere. And this man in the black coat clearly did not act like a government agent. As far as she knew, the only organization in all of New York that fit those conditions was the mysterious force rumored to belong to "Shafolin."

Although she was quite confident in The Hand's own strength, the scant intelligence they had gathered suggested that "Shafolin" did not regard The Hand as a threat at all. Naturally, they would not blindly believe such rumors, but neither could they ignore them completely.

At the very least, The Hand's knowledge of that organization was limited to the name "Shafolin," while the other side seemed to know quite a bit about The Hand. They had already fallen behind in intelligence. In their eyes, the other party had to be an organization at least equal to their own in scale and power.

The old woman thought her deduction was quite sound. She was nearly eighty percent certain that this man in the black coat belonged to Shafolin's side.

Sometimes people just loved being clever on their own. They thought their reasoning was flawless and their logic airtight, never realizing that to someone who knew the truth, they looked like a smug idiot...