Hong Fei finished breakfast and headed out of the city, climbing the mountain to retrieve his equipment. He'd left his Vibranium Cross-blade behind during his last trip due to the hassle of transferring planes repeatedly. That decision had cost him—even while fighting Killer Croc, he'd managed to nick the blade. With the Vibranium Cross-blade in hand, though, he could slice Killer Croc into ten thousand pieces without breaking a sweat.
Next was the Sword of Sif, a masterpiece forged from Uru and imbued with the divine powers of both Sif and Odin. Not only was it nearly indestructible by mortal weapons, but it also had the passive ability to slay or repel ghostly entities. Hong Fei hadn't forgotten Constantine's warning, and the sword would be invaluable if they encountered anything supernatural.
His thermal weapons were no slouch either. Used strategically, they could save him a lot of trouble. After packing away his arsenal, he checked the time—still before noon. Hong Fei leaned back and said, "Tell me about the seven major gangs in New York."
"Alright," came the response. "According to Constantine's intel, the largest of the seven gangs is the False Face Society. They're from Gotham and have already taken control of Brooklyn and parts of Queens. Up until two months ago, they were expanding rapidly. But for some reason, they stopped and reached a stalemate with the other six gangs. Still, they're the most powerful and dangerous group in the city."
"False Face Society? Do they wear masks?" Hong Fei asked.
"Some do, but many don't," came the reply.
Hong Fei thought for a moment.
"You said they're from Gotham. That sounds familiar."
"They are. And based on police intelligence, they're closely tied to the Sionis family in Gotham City. It's believed to be a family-based criminal organization."
"Sionis… isn't that Black Mask?"
Hong Fei mused.
"Check it out. Keep going."
"Next is the Mafia. It's divided into two factions: the local Mafia and the Russian Mafia. While they're separate groups, they allied to resist the False Face Society's invasion. They lost the least territory during the False Face Society's expansion. Then there's…" The briefing continued for a while longer.
When it was over, Hong Fei sat in silence. Aside from the False Face Society and the Mafia, the other gangs meant nothing to him. After a long pause, he said, "Find the leaders of all these gangs. See if they have ties to the New York City government. If they do, gather evidence and hand it to me."
Controlling both the underworld and the upper world required leverage, and dirt on these people would be invaluable. Of course, the key was having the confidence to survive their retaliation. Hong Fei trusted himself completely in that regard. And if any gangs were connected to high-ranking police officials, even better.
That was almost guaranteed—the only question was how high up the dirty cop was. Hong Fei felt a surge of optimism. The future looked bright.
---
In the afternoon, he arrived at the police station. As he'd expected, someone was assigned to question him about his actions the previous night. The interrogation was serious, but Hong Fei handled it effortlessly. It was clear the department was treating the attack on the five officers as a major incident. Attacking cops wasn't a small crime, and the assailants had been well-prepared and armed.
Although the whole process was very serious, Hong Fei found it almost laughably easy to navigate.
Hong Fei was just a patrol officer now, and these matters no longer concerned him. He didn't ask questions, and even if he did, no one would tell him. After wrapping up, he changed clothes and followed Cora to the parking lot. Remembering her words from the night before, he asked bluntly, "What car are we switching to today?"
Cora chuckled without turning around.
"Guess."
Her tone carried confidence and a hint of arrogance. Hong Fei raised an eyebrow.
"Did we actually get a new car?"
"Duh!"
Usually, he was the one dishing out that line; hearing it directed at him was a first.
They reached the parking lot, and Cora stopped, slipping her hand into her pocket. She glanced back.
"One more chance. Mustang or Camaro?"
"Camaro," Hong Fei replied casually.
"Uh-huh. Good luck, kid—you nailed it."
She tossed him the keys. He pressed the button, and a sleek black Camaro lit up in the distance.
As they hit the road, Cora eyed him curiously.
"You don't seem excited."
"Why should I be?"
"Fine. Looks like you've driven this kind of car before. You weren't just some ordinary civilian, were you?" Hong Fei smiled but stayed silent.
No matter how impressive the car was, it couldn't spark much passion in him. He'd once had access to any vehicle in the world, even those not for sale. He could fly, for crying out loud. Still, he couldn't help but ask, "I am curious, though. How do you keep getting new cars? The last one was one thing, but this one too?"
Cora hummed, not bothering to hide it.
"Because I have a rich and powerful daddy."
"Second-generation rich?"
"Wrong. Fourth-generation rich."
Hong Fei nodded and dropped the subject. He didn't want to know who her father was—it might complicate things if he ever had to rob the guy.
Still, this revelation made him wonder about Cora and Sergeant Neil. If appearances were anything to go by, Neil was probably around the same age as her wealthy father. Marrying into a rich family wasn't easy, and being a son-in-law came with its own set of challenges. Another dull day of patrol began.
This time, Cora and Hong Fei tried to trigger the curse one after another, but nothing happened. They ended up aimlessly cruising the streets. Hong Fei used the opportunity to observe their surroundings more closely.
He noticed that encountering serious cases in this patrol area was rare. Sure, there were plenty of wannabe tough guys playing street, but it was all posturing. No matter how high a city's crime rate, its sheer size meant Hong Fei wouldn't stumble into trouble every time. Otherwise, this place would be Gotham.
Hong Fei remembered an old saying: "One must rely on oneself."
---
Meanwhile, in Louisiana, Amanda Waller, the United States government's agent for meta-human affairs, was busy doing what she did best—handling dirty work. The organization she was part of would later become the prototype for "A.R.G.U.S."
Unlike S.H.I.E.L.D., A.R.G.U.S.—short for "Advanced Research Group Uniting Super-humans"—was entirely subordinate to the U.S. government.
Someone like Amanda Waller cannot be a good person in the traditional sense. Yet, unlike many of her black peers, she was an unwavering patriot. Deep down, she believed meta-humans posed a significant threat to the country. Even when dealing with a superhero like Batman, she would never fully trust them—she'd only use them to achieve her goals.
The transformation of Belle Reve Prison stands as one of Amanda Waller's most ambitious projects—a cornerstone in her strategy to restrict, and ultimately eliminate, meta-human threats. In her vision, Belle Reve would evolve from housing ordinary criminals into the largest meta-human detention facility in the country, if not the world. Yet, all of that had been reduced to ashes by Hong Fei. Amanda Waller was furious.
The deaths of ordinary prisoners meant nothing to her. What truly ignited her anger was the disappearance of three meta-humans. Here, the term "meta-human" wasn't limited to those born with extraordinary abilities. Anyone who mastered skills far beyond the reach of ordinary people—like Deadshot or Captain Boomerang—fell into this category.
Despite her rage, Waller remained analytical. The investigation made it clear: the intruder had come specifically for the three meta-humans in her custody. But the complexity of the operation far exceeded her initial assumptions.
Though the prison's surveillance footage showed nothing, forensic evidence revealed that only one person had infiltrated that night. The intruder had driven to a spot four or five kilometers outside the swamp, abandoned the vehicle, and trekked through the treacherous terrain.
They then hacked into the prison's remote control systems, bypassed layers of security, and silently infiltrated the facility. Once inside, they unlocked every cell, creating chaos, and escaped by helicopter.
But that wasn't the end. The helicopter was discovered more than ten kilometers away. Footprints and tire tracks were found at the scene, but the trail vanished after a short distance, merging into the main road. The clues stopped there, leaving only two possibilities: the intruder possessed unparalleled hacking skills or commanded a highly skilled team.
Neither possibility was good news for Waller. The most pressing question was: how did the intruder know those four individuals were being held here? For Waller, an external breach was far more terrifying than an internal leak. Did the intruder know about her and her role? What was their purpose in taking those three? Who would they target next?
These questions sharpened Waller's focus. She and her entire organization were now on the highest alert, with all external communications strictly monitored.
She had spent the entire day alone in her temporary office at Belle Reve. Finally, she organized a stack of detailed personal files, each accompanied by a photo, on her desk. Pressing a button, she summoned someone. Moments later, the door opened, and a man entered.
Her expression was dark as she tossed the files across the table.
"Bring these people—or non-human entities—back. Use whatever means necessary."
The man picked up the documents and flipped through them, his brow furrowing.
He looked up, but Waller's icy glare silenced any objections before they could form.
"You have three days. Mobilize whoever you need. I'll coordinate with all necessary departments. I expect to see them here by the afternoon of the third day."
Though the pressure was immense, the man dared not protest. He clenched his teeth and nodded.
"Yes, ma'am."
Waller's gaze shifted to the drizzling rain outside the window, her tone softening slightly.
"How is Dr. June?"
"At home. She's been behaving well, hasn't left."
"And Colonel Rick?"
"He's been watching over her."
Amanda Waller spun around sharply.
"Is that what I asked for?"
Her voice cut like a blade.
The subordinate flinched, head bowing low.
"They... seem to have feelings for each other, but there's been no real progress these past few days."
"Then help them," Waller snapped. "Do I need to spell out how to do your job?"
"No, ma'am! I'll handle it immediately!"
"Wait."
Her tone softened, but only slightly.
"Have Colonel Rick keep tabs on her. Handle the other matter I mentioned first."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Dismissed."
The man turned on his heel and hurried out. Waller reached for the alloy case beside her, flipping it open with practiced ease. Inside lay two objects: a sleek self-destruct device, and beside it, what appeared to be a withered heart. The latter pulsed with an eerie green glow, light seeping through its cracked surface like liquid emerald.
Seeing this thing, the sense of urgency in Amanda Waller's heart eased slightly, but her gaze remained cold and detached.