Matt finally gave in to his curiosity. Waiting until the others were gone, he sought out Hong Fei alone. The blind man fidgeted with his cane, head tilted slightly, brows twitching behind dark glasses before forcing himself still.
"Just say what's on your mind."
Hong Fei leaned back with an amused smirk.
"At this point, I can barely call you part of the team. But if you're strapped for cash, I could rally the boys for a quick job."
Matt waved off the joke and sat across from him. He hesitated before voicing the question burning in his mind.
"Why are we here? Why did we take this place?"
"Because I felt like it."
"But it belonged to them."
"Obviously."
"So why—"
"Christ, I just told you."
Hong Fei rolled his eyes.
"Because I wanted to."
Matt's grip tightened on his cane until the wood creaked. After a long pause, he whispered, "Doesn't that make you the villain here?"
"Newsflash—I am the villain. Was I not making that clear enough for you?"
Hong Fei spread his hands dramatically.
"Let's recap. I waltzed into someone's homeland with you lot in tow, ignored their protests, kicked them out, and rebranded their sacred Ta Lo as my personal Dragon Palace by morning. Textbook villainy, no?"
"But you helped them—"
"Incidental."
Hong Fei waved a dismissive hand.
"I like killing mobs. Drops make me stronger. That's the whole equation."
Matt's face twisted in confusion. Before he could process this moral whiplash, Hong Fei cut in: "Anything else?"
"Are you lying to me?"
Hong Fei barked a laugh. "Not this time."
Matt shook his head slowly.
"Something's off. What you described is objectively terrible... but I don't think you're purely evil."
"Deja vu," Hong Fei muttered.
"You didn't need to do this. You've got more than most people dream of—why take what wasn't yours?"
"Third time."
Hong Fei held up three fingers.
"Because. I. Wanted. To."
"You could've negotiated—"
"And turned this into some noble deed?"
Hong Fei made a disgusted noise.
"Absolutely not."
He shook his head firmly. Strictly good behavior stunted growth—balance was everything.
"Look," he sighed, "I get where you're coming from. But everyone walks their own path. We met long before you knew me, and I still moved against you. Why? Because it served my needs. My motives are simple—I see, I want, I take. Call it the Unity of Knowledge and Action if you want to sound fancy."
He shooed Matt toward the door.
"Run along now. Exchange students get a free pass—today."
"Why would you hit me?"
Matt blinked in genuine confusion.
Hong Fei's grin turned predatory.
"What do you think?"
Matt scrambled upright and bolted. The door barely closed behind him when Frank and Xu Wenwu entered together.
Frank crossed his arms.
"You enjoy traumatizing idealists?"
"He's a hero."
Hong Fei shrugged.
"Heroes don't fold from a little verbal sparring."
Silence settled between them until Hong Fei exhaled dramatically.
"When someone suspects you're terrifying? You'd damn well better be terrifying."
Frank's eyebrow twitched. Xu Wenwu simply nodded.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Frank asked.
Hong Fei smiled. "It's simple. You'll understand if I put it another way. When someone suspects you have a nuke, you'd better really have one."
Frank's expression cleared instantly. Some lessons, apparently, transcended cultures.
The war had effectively ended. It wasn't until February 15, 2011, that the Iraqi defector—the same one who'd convinced both the U.S. and Germany that Iraq possessed weapons of mass destruction—finally admitted for the first time that his earlier claims had been lies.
Then again, Master Hong actually did have a nuke.
Recalling those words now, they carried a distinct note of bravado.
"Have they all left?" Hong Fei asked, gazing out the window at the tranquil village.
Xu Wenwu folded his arms.
"Eighty percent are gone. The more who leave, the easier it is for the hesitant ones to decide. One group leads another. I'd estimate only ten percent will stay in the end."
"Perfect."
The people of Ta Lo would struggle to become citizens of Dragon Palace if they remained—their history and heritage were too deeply rooted. Earth offered them the best future. There, their tribal legacy could endure, eventually merging into that land's vast cultural tapestry as a vibrant new thread.
Frank leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"Big Head mentioned the evacuees aren't scattering. They want to establish a new Ta Lo Village in the outside world. But that requires your mediation with the authorities."
"I'll handle it. Honestly, the outside's safer than anywhere—probably the safest place in the entire universe."
Hong Fei's smile held private amusement.
After a beat, he added, "Tell them to take the palace with them. That long relief carving outside? It documents Ta Lo's battles against the Soul-Eaters. Better it travels with them to forge a new beginning. A fresh era paired with ancient struggle—that's the right balance."
Xu Wenwu nodded.
"I'll arrange it."
Hong Fei stood.
"Wenwu, I assume you're not taking a vacation?"
"Correct. Yingli and I will stay."
"Good. Expect an influx of construction teams soon. Coordinate with them—Arthur has the blueprints. Keep things running smoothly."
"Understood."
Hong Fei turned.
"Frank, your plans?"
"Japan."
"Why?"
"I hear their gangs lack humility."
Hong Fei grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Give them hell. Call if you need backup. I'll even lend you the little darlings from the warehouse. Run out? There's always more."
Frank's nod was ice.
"If necessary."
Hong Fei believed him utterly. This was the Punisher, not some sanctimonious hypocrite.
Xu Wenwu chimed in, deadpan, "If you deploy them, I want front-row seats."
"Done."
Hong Fei thumped his chest.
"I'll personally invite you."
Matt Murdock would've fainted clean away if he'd overheard this conversation.
The next day, Hong Fei left Ta Lo to meet Chen Qi after their long separation. They debated the Ta Lo resettlement at length, ultimately agreeing on terms that honored the refugees' needs while ensuring their compliance with modern societal frameworks.
Next came Dragon Palace's construction plans—advanced teams would mobilize shortly. Finally, Chen Qi, representing S.P.E.A.R., formally congratulated Hong Fei on his new title: Dragon King. The gift he presented was both lavish and tactful.
The moment Master Hong decided to rename Ta Lo as Dragon Palace, he'd effectively embraced his new title as Dragon King. So what if he sprayed water? White dragons excelled at that. And if you doubted his capabilities—well, one moment he might casually toss a nuke through your window. Back in Sokovia's castle hall, Hong Fei unwrapped the gift from his allies.
His fingers worked through the wooden packaging, peeling back smooth crimson silk to reveal a transparent glass display case. Inside stood an iron suit of armor—its design nearly identical to the black set Hong Fei had worn during the Battle of New York. This marked the second such gift they'd sent.
The first armor suit still occupied the hall's center, its bright red finish gleaming. This new iteration kept the scarlet base but incorporated intricate dragon motifs. Delicate gold filigree swirled across its surface like embroidered threads or carved reliefs, forming the image of a celestial dragon soaring through the cosmos.
A magnificent dragon's head dominated the left breastplate, its mane and whiskers frozen mid-undulation. Gleaming fangs caught the light, while the golden slit pupils contained startlingly realistic ocular details. The serpentine body wrapping around the armor featured translucent, scale-like hollows that caught the light.
As illumination shifted, the scales ignited in successive waves, creating the illusion of motion. The dragon's tail terminated at the right thigh, accompanied by wispy cloud patterns that enhanced rather than overwhelmed the design. Every element balanced perfectly.
Master Hong was instantly captivated by the craftsmanship alone. This final product clearly represented countless iterations and sleepless nights—some poor design team had probably gone bald perfecting it. Summoning Arthur, he transmitted the images to Dr. Helen Cho.
"Helen," Hong Fei said, "replicate this for me. Standard modifications—black base color, subdued gold accents."
Curious that S.P.E.A.R. had sent red armor despite knowing his preference for black. There must be layered symbolism at play—both sides now operated on the same wavelength.
"What stunning craftsmanship!"
Dr. Cho exclaimed upon reviewing the design.
"Consider it done. Swing by later for the swap."
"Mm. Incidentally, I've brought back an actual white dragon and several magical creatures. Care to visit?"
"Wait—seriously?"
"Dead serious."
"On my way!"
Helen arrived breathless with anticipation—only to find no white dragon in sight.
Though denied that spectacle, she encountered a different familiar reptile instead. Ever since mastering Qi cultivation, Dr. Cho had developed remarkable courage. Their reunion escalated into a spectacular brawl—one that ended with her opponent retching in defeat.