Negotiations on a Rainy Night

Nights in New York always had a clamminess that could never quite be washed away.

At an abandoned shipyard in Brooklyn, enormous tower cranes loomed in the darkness like the skeletons of steel giants. Rusted shipping containers stood stacked in layers, forming a labyrinthine death trap. This was hallowed ground for gang deals, and the perfect place for murder and robbery.

Zhao Fan stood alone on the platform atop a tower crane, letting the cold drizzle beat against his black trench coat. He had brought no umbrella, only the reforged alloy short blade at his waist.

He was waiting.

"Drip."

A drop of water fell from the crane's crossbeam.

Just before it struck the ground, a cold gleam slashed without warning through the dark, rainy night, heading straight for the back of Zhao Fan's neck.

It was Kestrel's blade-fast, precise, and ruthless, without a moment's hesitation or a wasted word.

Zhao Fan did not turn around, but in the panoramic view of [Weak Energy Perception], the hooded figure stood out as clearly as a blazing torch in the night.

Zhao Fan frowned. He had not noticed before, but why did Kestrel seem like a woman now?

Clang!

Zhao Fan drew his blade backhanded, his alloy short blade blocking the attack from behind by a hair's breadth. The collision sent a dazzling spray of sparks into the rainy night, gone in an instant.

Using the recoil, Kestrel flipped nimbly through the air and landed atop a shipping container five meters in front of Zhao Fan; she still wore that tactical mask that left only the lower half of her face exposed. Her visible eyes were cold as blades, and the twin blades in her hands shone with a chilling gleam in the rain.

"You're late." Zhao Fan shook out his wrist. That strike had carried considerable force. This woman's physique had definitely been enhanced, perhaps even enough to match his own when he was not using his abilities.

"I'm not used to keeping appointments. I'm more used to ambushes." Kestrel's voice sounded somewhat hoarse through a voice changer. "Your message to the black-market broker said you had technology that could repair irreversible damage to the nervous system? Zhao Fan, if you're screwing with me, I'll slice you into sashimi."

"I never joke about business." Zhao Fan took a sealed metal tube from inside his trench coat and casually tossed it over.

Kestrel caught it and inspected it warily, without opening it right away.

"What is this?"

"A 'deposit,'" Zhao Fan said evenly. "A neural repair solution based on extracts from Chitauri biogel. It won't cure the condition completely, but it's enough to ease your suffering... or that of someone important to you."

Kestrel stiffened slightly. Her fingers tightened sharply around the metal tube, her knuckles turning white.

"You investigated me?" Her killing intent surged, her whole body like a bow drawn taut.

"That makes two of us. You investigated me too, didn't you?" Zhao Fan looked at her calmly. "In this business, information is life. I already know you've been taking every black-market job you can, even venturing into highly radioactive areas, all to earn money for medicine. Unfortunately, the drugs on the market can't save the person you need to save. Only the advanced alien technology being kept under lock and key can do that."

"So what?" Kestrel sneered. "If I kill you, this stuff is mine anyway."

Before she finished speaking, she attacked again. This time, she moved even faster, her twin blades becoming two silver whirlwinds that cut off every avenue of retreat.

"What a crazy woman." Zhao Fan sighed.

He stopped merely blocking. Against a technique-oriented opponent like Kestrel, brute force alone would struggle to work. He had to overwhelm her on the level of the rules themselves.

Just as the tip of Kestrel's blade was about to pierce Zhao Fan's trench coat, his figure suddenly blurred.

[Phase Blink]!

Kestrel's blade pierced the afterimage and met nothing. This violation of basic physics made her pupils contract sharply, and she instinctively tried to retreat.

But it was already too late.

Zhao Fan appeared less than half a meter from her side. Rather than clenching his left hand into a fist, he pressed it gently against the air.

[Kinetic Repulsion: Restraint]!

An invisible, viscous force instantly enveloped Kestrel, as though she had been thrown into the crushing pressure of the deep sea. Her movements immediately slowed, her once-fierce assault turning into slow motion.

"What... is this..." Kestrel struggled in shock, but that force was everywhere.

Zhao Fan did not answer. Holding his blade in his right hand, he lightly tapped its spine against Kestrel's wrist.

"Clatter."

Both blades fell to the ground.

Immediately afterward, Zhao Fan closed in, clamped one hand around Kestrel's throat, and slammed her against the container's iron wall.

"If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead." Zhao Fan looked at Kestrel inches away, his voice as calm as if he were discussing the weather. "I don't need to prove I'm stronger than you. You should have seen that clearly in that battle."

Kestrel panted hard, her eyes beneath the mask full of resentment and anger, but also a trace of shock she could not conceal. She knew Zhao Fan was strong, but she had never expected his strength to reach such an overwhelming level in just a few weeks.

"Let go of me," she said through gritted teeth.

Zhao Fan released her. He even picked up her twin blades and handed them back.

The gesture left Kestrel stunned.

"What exactly do you want?" She accepted the blades but did not attack again, merely stepping back a few paces warily.

"I need a blade." Zhao Fan looked straight into her eyes. "A blade that belongs neither to the D.O.D.C., nor to S.H.I.E.L.D., nor to any official agency. A blade that can walk in the dark and cut away the rotten flesh I can't conveniently touch."

"You want me to be your hired muscle?" Kestrel sneered. "I'm used to working alone."

"Working alone will leave you starving." Zhao Fan laid out the reality without mercy. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has fallen, and the D.O.D.C. dominates the field. All salvage rights in the ruins are under my control now. Without my permission, you can't take out so much as a piece of scrap iron. The black market is drying up. You've noticed, haven't you? Less and less merchandise lately, at higher and higher prices."

Kestrel fell silent. Zhao Fan was telling the truth. For the past two weeks, she had not managed to get even scraps on the outskirts. Whenever she finally found something, the omnipresent drones would drive her away.

"Work for me, and you'll get resources you never even dared dream of." Zhao Fan dangled the bait. "The medicine you need? I can have top laboratories make it specifically for you. The equipment you need? I'll give you the best Stark technology. The money you need? That's the least valuable thing of all."

"And the price?" Kestrel was no fool. "The more you give, the more my life will cost in return."

"The price is loyalty." Zhao Fan held out a hand. "Join the S.C.U.'s special operations auxiliary team. Your identity stays secret, and you report directly to me. You'll take on the most dangerous, dirtiest jobs-but also the ones with the highest returns."

"Such as?"

"Such as going to Africa, into the most chaotic warlord territory on this planet, and stealing vibranium from a madman named Ulysses Klaue."

At the word "vibranium," Kestrel narrowed her eyes. Of course she knew what it meant. It was a legend on the black market, a sacred treasure worth a fortune per gram.

"You're insane," she said. "Klaue's place is hell. It's a graveyard for mercenaries."

"That's why we need a ghost like you to scout the way." Zhao Fan kept his hand extended, rainwater running off his fingertips. "What do you say? Keep digging through garbage for worthless scraps while you wait for your family to die in agony? Or come with me and seize that mountain of gold from hell?"

Kestrel stared at Zhao Fan's outstretched hand.

She thought of the frail figure lying in a hospital bed, of the expensive medical bills, and of the humiliation of being driven around like a rat lately.

The man before her was dangerous, mysterious, and ambitious. In just a few months, he had climbed from the bottom to his current position, even acquiring the powers of a superhero.

This was a gamble.

But she had never lacked the nerve to gamble.

Kestrel took a deep breath and removed her mask, revealing a cool, stubborn face. A faint scar marked her left cheek, but it did nothing to diminish her beauty, instead lending her a touch of valor.

She reached out and took Zhao Fan's hand.

Her hand was callused, cold, and strong.

"If I die, you have to pay the rest of my little sister's treatment costs," she said coldly.

"Deal." Zhao Fan tightened his grip, a victorious smile curling his lips. "Welcome aboard, Kestrel. Or should I call you..."

"Yelena." She gave the name that only a handful of people knew. "Yelena Belova."

"A good name." Zhao Fan nodded. "Let's go, Yelena. Our plane leaves in four hours. Before we head to Africa, you need a change of gear and a few weapons from our armory that suit you. Those two lousy blades of yours couldn't even scratch the plating on Klaue's armored vehicles."

"Don't underestimate my blades." Yelena sheathed them, pulled her hood back on, and followed Zhao Fan.

"Trust me, you'll like the new equipment."

The two disappeared into the rainy night, one behind the other.

Two hours later, in the underground arms workshop at the S.C.U. base.

When Yelena walked in, even she, who had seen plenty, could not help letting her mouth fall slightly open.

"God, did you rob Stark Tower?" she exclaimed, looking at the rows of energy rifles on the walls and the precision instruments on the workbenches.

"More or less." Old Dog, who was servicing a shotgun, looked up. At the sight of Yelena, he whistled. "Wow, this is our new partner? The famous Kestrel is actually a woman. Fan, you always have a sharp eye. This chick looks like trouble."

"Shut up, Old Dog." Zhao Fan tossed him a document. "The briefing for the Africa operation. Read it first."

"Let me introduce everyone." Zhao Fan pointed at the enormous "cockpit" in the corner. "That's Ben, our eyes and ears. This one beside us is Old Dog. He may look like a joker, but give him enough firepower and he can hold an entire street."

"And her." Zhao Fan pointed to Evelyn, who had just emerged from the laboratory.

Evelyn looked Yelena up and down, studying her like a lab rat, a gaze that made Yelena very uncomfortable.

"Good physical condition. Twice the normal bone density, extremely fast neural responses." Evelyn adjusted her glasses. "Looks like some kind of special genetic modification, or... Soviet Red Room training. But I seem to remember S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files saying only one person survived? That shouldn't have been you, though."

Yelena's eyes instantly filled with killing intent, and her hand went to the hilt of her blade.

"Relax. Everyone here has secrets." Zhao Fan stepped between them. "Evelyn, where's the equipment you prepared for her?"

"Station three." Evelyn pointed to the side.

A black, form-fitting combat suit lay there. It looked thin and light, but a faint sheen flowed across its surface. Beside it lay two brand-new short blades, their edges semitransparent as they vibrated at high frequency.

"Nanofiber body armor, with built-in temperature regulation and life support. Those blades were reforged from high-strength alloy recovered from the mothership wreckage, with miniature Stark sonic oscillation generators added. When activated, they can cut through fifty-millimeter steel plate," Evelyn explained evenly. "Consider them a welcome gift."

Yelena walked over and picked up a blade. Its perfect balance and the power it held in her hand made her reluctant to put it down.

"This is ten times better than the best stuff I've seen on the black market," she murmured.

"This is only the beginning." Zhao Fan looked at the team, ready to move out-Old Dog, Ben, Evelyn, and their newly joined blade, Yelena.

"Our target is a derelict shipyard in the Gulf of Guinea, on Africa's west coast." Zhao Fan brought up a holographic map and pointed at the red dot. "Ulysses Klaue is there, guarding his treasure. There are mercenaries, heavy weapons, and possibly even people with superpowers."

"But we only have one thing to do."

Zhao Fan swept his gaze over them, a fire called conquest burning in his eyes.

"Take everything they have, then come back alive."