A week had passed since the parents' conference.
In the past few days, after opening the gym, Gu Xing spent most of his time cultivating—pushing, refining, searching for that breakthrough.
He could feel it.
Close.
Very close.
Danny and Colleen hadn't returned. They said they'd be gone for an unknown period, offering no real explanation.
But Gu Xing understood.
'The Hand.'
They didn't want him implicated.
He didn't mind.
Less trouble.
—
The Martial Arts Hall was quieter now.
Without instructors, fewer people came.
Only Kevin remained consistent—though most of the time, he just stuck to the gym equipment.
But today—
"Fix your stance," Gu Xing said calmly. "Power comes from your legs. Strike."
Kevin stood in the center, wearing a loose robe that hung awkwardly on his frame.
It used to belong to Gu Xing.
Now, it swallowed Kevin whole.
Fhwo—
The robe fluttered as Kevin threw a punch.
Too high.
Too stiff.
Smack!
Gu Xing's stick lashed out, striking the back of Kevin's leg.
"Ow!" Kevin yelped, rubbing the spot, eyes watering.
"Coach… are you sure this will make me an expert?" he asked doubtfully.
Gu Xing looked at him seriously.
"No strength comes easy."
His voice was calm—but firm.
"When I was your age, my father made me kneel on dry beans if I didn't listen."
Kevin froze.
"…What?"
A chill ran down his spine.
He didn't ask any more questions.
—
Gu Xing, on the other hand, felt a faint shiver.
'Those days…'
His father really was insane.
He shook his head and tapped the stick lightly on the ground.
"Again."
Kevin straightened immediately.
This time—
More focused.
Less complaints.
Watching him, Gu Xing nodded slightly.
At least he learns fast.
Time passed like a horse running across an open field. Kevin went home after cleaning the hall and closing the lights.
Gu Xing decided to give Kevin a key to the hall since he's the only one coming by anyway. So the responsibility of opening the door and waiting for customers naturally fell into Kevin's hands.
Gu Xing still remembered how Kevin had reacted earlier when he saw the keys.
"Alright, since I took a liking to you, kid… congrats on your promotion from customer to staff member."
Kevin, with wide eyes, held the keys with trembling hands and asked, "Coach… is this true?"
Before Gu Xing could even respond, Kevin quickly added—
"I do have a salary, right?"
A black line formed on Gu Xing's face.
Smack!
He hit Kevin on the head without hesitation.
'Free training from the instructors and me—this is a once in a lifetime opportunity—and this kid is thinking about money.'
Shaking his head, Gu Xing still sighed in defeat.
In the end, he decided to give the guy some pocket money anyway.
"It's hard being this kind…" he muttered.
—
Right now, the hall was quiet.
Gu Xing sat in a cross-legged position, the wooden sword resting steadily on his lap.
His breathing was calm and even.
His mind, however, was active.
He was trying to recall the moves Colleen taught him about the sword. Among them, she was the most knowledgeable when it came to swords.
He vividly remembers the movements —the stances, the angles, the flow of each strike.
Every detail was clear in his mind.
Perfect.
Thanks to his enhanced memory and perception, he had already memorized everything.
But memorization… wasn't enough.
Understanding—that was the real challenge.
Slowly, Gu Xing lifted the wooden sword.
He didn't rush.
Instead, he followed the sequence step by step, letting his body move according to what he remembered.
A swing.
Then another.
Each movement carried a slight stiffness at first, but gradually, it became smoother.
More natural.
He adjusted his footing.
Shifted his weight.
Let the motion travel from his legs, through his body, into the sword.
The faint sound of air being cut echoed in the quiet hall.
Fhwo—
Gu Xing's eyes sharpened.
So this is how it's applied…
The sword wasn't just something he held.
It had to become part of him.
An extension of his body.
An extension of his will.
He continued practicing, repeating the sequence again and again—refining, correcting, improving.
It was already deep into the night when he finally stopped.
Sweat rolled down his cheeks as he steadied his breathing, standing at the center of the floor with his eyes closed. The wooden sword rested lightly in his grip, unmoving.
"Soon."
He could feel it—just a little more, just one final push, and he would be able to extend his chi into the blade.
The next day early morning, Kevin arrived at the Martial Arts Hall as usual, ready to train. Gu Xing was already in the middle of guiding him through a series of strikes and stances.
The soft buzz of Gu Xing's phone caught his attention. He glanced at it briefly—the news was reporting on the drug spreading through the city.
Kevin, while practicing a kick, overheard it. "Even in our school, there are rumors that it's spreading," he said, concern lacing his voice.
Gu Xing didn't respond.
A worried frown crossed Kevin's face. "Some students have even gone missing… I wonder if it's connected?"
"Focus on your training," Gu Xing said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Yes, Coach!" Kevin replied, nodding and returning his attention to the drills.
---
Somewhere in another part of New York.
In Harlem, a lone figure walked with a slow, deliberate pace. His broad shoulders and unbreakable stride made him stand out even in the dim streetlights. Luke Cage, eyes scanning the dark corners, tightened his fists.
"Still nothing?" Misty Knight's voice came from beside him. The detective had a sharp edge in her tone, her hands tucked casually in her coat pockets.
Luke shook his head. "Nothing concrete. But I've got a feeling this is bigger than the usual gang bullshit."
Misty glanced at him. "My sources say the new drug is hitting the schools. Kids are getting involved before they even know what they're doing."
Luke's jaw clenched. "I won't let anything happen to Harlem."
They moved silently, their footsteps echoing off brick walls. Both knew the streets were alive tonight—something was stirring, and it wasn't small-time trouble.
--
At the same time, in a shadowed chamber deep beneath the city, five figures sat around a circular obsidian table, their faces barely illuminated by flickering torchlight.
The first, an African man with sharp features and an air of calculated authority, leaned forward. "Is this not too early?" he asked, his voice calm but edged with impatience.
A Japanese leader, his kimono dark and ornate, spoke next, his tone measured. "He is right. We should not be making noise."
A frail, ancient Chinese woman, her hair pulled into a tight bun, sat upright in her chair, her gnarled hands gripping a cane. "We have to," she said, her voice surprisingly strong. "Some pest is interfering with our business."
A middle-aged woman with piercing eyes and a refined posture added, "We need the resources to accelerate the creation of the elixir."
A tall, silent man in shadow remained motionless, observing the others.
The middle-aged woman's gaze hardened, almost desperate. "I need it. I'm dying." The table fell silent as the group turned their eyes to her, tension hanging heavy in the air.
The ancient woman tapped her cane against the table, eyes narrowing. "Then we act tonight. The pest won't wait, and neither can we."
The African leader nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Prepare the operatives. Every district. No mistakes."
The Japanese leader's hand hovered over a dagger at his belt. "And if this… pest interferes again?"
The middle-aged woman's voice was cold. "Then they will die. All of them."
The silent man finally spoke, his voice low and menacing. "We've waited too long. Let the city burn if we must."
Shadows shifted across the walls as their plans solidified, a dark storm about to descend on New York.