"Manager Frank, the King's here. Where's my welcome party?"
Hong Fei's pre-departure text might as well have been tossed into the ocean. Touching down in Tokyo, a quick check with Big Head confirmed his suspicion—Frank was off playing assassin again. Typical. Not wanting to interrupt Frank's solo Tokyo rampage, Hong Fei resigned himself to working alone.
The meetup spot with Ulysses was that same tired entertainment club by Tokyo Bay. Ulysses, ever the professional, had already arrived and gone to ground for operational security. No point contacting him now. The exchange was set for tonight, and Wakanda's team should've been in position. Hong Fei suited up and showed up an hour early.
Everyone knew about the Yokosuka Naval Base hugging Tokyo Bay—joint US-Japanese operations, Seventh Fleet headquarters. The so-called entertainment venue crawled with foreigners the moment Hong Fei stepped inside. Tourists? Sailors? Or maybe his Wakanda contacts hiding in plain sight.
The elevator ride to the seventh floor offered a panoramic view of the glowing naval base below. Up here? A casino. Legal or not didn't seem to matter—the place dripped with opulence. Couples clung to each other between tables, testing luck or skill or something else entirely.
Nobody cared if these people had met five minutes ago. Gambling wasn't the only game being played here. Not that Hong Fei approved—gambling was a cancer. Nine out of ten games were rigged. Best case? You lost your shirt. Worst case? Your family's future went up in smoke.
It hooks you fast too. One win chases another until you're hollowed out, chasing that high with nothing left to bet. When someone dangles bait, they're not feeding you—they're fattening you up for slaughter. No mercy, no leftovers. That's why Hong Fei never touched the stuff.
As a sworn enemy of gambling and drugs, Master Hong walked the talk. He moved through the hall with deliberate casualness, scanning the room like any other patron hunting for the right table. In reality, he was tagging every Black face in the crowd. Wakanda's team had to be here.
Luckily, Black patrons were scarce—mostly Asians, then whites dominating the floor. A familiar "WTF!" cut through the noise from some slick operator with a woman on each arm. The guy cursed every bad hand but never seemed to run out of chips.
Hong Fei's trained eye soon picked out the professionals. By his estimate, eighty percent of the Black patrons were Wakandan—about twenty in total. Another twenty white faces probably represented their CIA handlers.
They clearly hadn't seen his photo though. None reacted to his presence. But his circling eventually drew attention—several earpiece-wearing suits had him marked now. Hong Fei caught their stares and exhaled quietly.
These people were betting way too high, and he couldn't even understand half the games. What he wouldn't give for a simple round of Fight the Landlord with one-dollar minimums...
A well-dressed woman approached Hong Fei with a professional smile. Her light makeup accentuated her features as she spoke in crisp English.
"Sir, would you like me to introduce things to you?"
Hong Fei's gaze flicked over her. Petite but curvaceous.
"Sure," he replied in Chinese.
Her eyes lit up, and she switched to Chinese, though her halting fluency made Hong Fei lose interest almost immediately. She led him around the hall, standing unnecessarily close at each stop, her body brushing against his as she whispered the rules into his ear. Hong Fei remained impassive, his expression unreadable.
When they finished the tour, she smiled brightly. "Sir, may I ask what kind of game interests you?"
Hong Fei glanced at the clock on the wall, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"Actually, I'm waiting for someone."
"Oh? Would you like me to arrange a meeting room? We have private, quiet spaces."
"No need," he said, his gaze shifting. "He's here."
The doors swung open, and Ulysses strode in, impeccably dressed in a suit and leather shoes. A cigar dangled from his lips, his confident swagger unmistakable. Two subordinates trailed behind him, carrying cases. Their eyes met, and both men laughed in unison. Ulysses spread his arms wide from across the room.
As they closed the distance, Ulysses pulled Hong Fei into a hearty embrace, slapping his back with both hands.
"Hahaha, honored guest, I'm not late, am I?" he boomed for the room to hear. Then, in a lower tone meant only for Hong Fei: "Sorry, sir, please forgive me."
Hong Fei stepped back, shaking his hand with a polite smile.
"Of course not. I just arrived early."
Ulysses grinned.
"Haven't you played a couple of rounds?"
"I'm not very proficient."
"Don't worry," Ulysses said, clapping Hong Fei on the shoulder. "Come, I'll show you. Everything's on me tonight—play as much as you want!"
He grabbed Hong Fei's hand and led him forward.
The woman trailed behind, her eyes calculating.
"Shall I arrange an empty table for the two of you?"
"Sure," Ulysses said with a grand gesture. "Let's play by ourselves. If we lose, it's on me. If we win, it's all yours!"
He seemed magnanimous, his voice carrying a tone of generosity.
Soon, the two men settled at a corner table. Hong Fei leaned back, shaking his head.
"No rush to play. Let me see the goods first."
"No problem!"
Ulysses waved a hand, and one of his subordinates handed over a case. He opened it deftly, revealing a sleek, silver hammer-like object inside. Hong Fei gave it a cursory glance and nodded.
"What about the rest?"
Ulysses grinned wider and opened the second case. This one was more intricate, its mechanisms complex. He allowed Hong Fei only a brief look before snapping it shut and swiftly resetting the password. As this exchange unfolded, a group of Black and White figures began to close in, forming a loose perimeter around them.
The tension in the room thickened. Casino security frowned, stepping forward while calling for backup. The woman accompanying Hong Fei and Ulysses twitched her ears, sensing the shift. She turned toward them, her tone polite but cautious.
"Guests, is there anything I can help you with?"
She just didn't know that the person she was facing was actually the prince of Wakanda—T'Challa. The commotion drew Ulysses' attention. Before he could even reach for his gun, several Black women strode forward with precision. Double-ended spears extended from their hands, swiftly immobilizing him and his two subordinates.
The sudden commotion drew the attention of all the surrounding guests, causing a brief disturbance. T'Challa remained silent, but the Black woman beside him immediately stepped forward, blocking the approaching woman with a stern look.
"Miss, we don't need assistance. Please step aside," she said curtly.
The woman glanced behind her, her brow deeply furrowed.
"Sir, ladies, this is..." she began, but the Black woman cut her off with a glare, her eyes wide and intense.
"I know this is your establishment, but we're busy here. Step aside!"
At her command, casino security personnel began to converge on the scene.
A White man nearby stepped forward voluntarily, flashing his identification. After a brief exchange with the casino's management, the security team quickly withdrew, and the guests were ushered out one by one.
"WTF, I was about to win this round!" the middle-aged man from earlier cursed under his breath.
Only after someone promised compensation did he reluctantly stand, brushing off his clothes before sauntering away with a woman on each arm. The casino woman had no choice but to retreat as well. T'Challa stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back.
"Ulysses Klaue, we've been searching for you for a long time," he said calmly.
Ulysses laughed upon seeing him. "You really do take after your father."
"After all these years on the run, did you ever imagine it would end like this?" T'Challa asked, his tone steady.
Ulysses grinned.
"Haha, my friend, I thought I'd hidden myself well enough."
T'Challa frowned slightly.
"Why do you seem so unafraid?"
"Afraid?"
Ulysses chuckled.
"You've already caught me, haven't you? That spear of yours looks sharp enough to pierce my skin. Could you ask her to ease up a bit?"
The woman beside T'Challa didn't hesitate. She stepped forward and punched Ulysses squarely in the face. Despite the split lip, Ulysses only laughed harder.
"I've seen you before. Okoye, Captain of the Royal Guard of Wakanda. Your reputation precedes you."
"Ulysses Klaue," Okoye replied coldly, "I've heard your name many times. But today is the first time it's brought me any joy."
"Is that so?"
Ulysses smirked.
"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."
Okoye frowned and reached for the cases held by Ulysses' subordinates.
"Wait!" a voice called out. She paused and turned to see Hong Fei seated at a nearby table, his expression calm.
"That's my property," he stated.
Okoye's brow furrowed deeper.
"You're the buyer?"
"That's right," Hong Fei confirmed.
She let out a short, humorless laugh before regaining her composure.
"Your transaction has failed. Vibranium is illegal. Don't attempt to purchase it again."
Hong Fei sighed. "Fine. Even if you're right, I've already paid for today's goods."
Okoye glanced at Ulysses, whose smile only widened. She shook her head.
"I'll ensure he compensates you for your losses."
"I don't want money," Hong Fei replied.
"Then what do you want?"
"Only what I've already purchased."
Okoye's glare hardened.
"These items belong to Wakanda. Not a single piece will be handed over to outsiders."
Hong Fei's frown deepened.
"So, you're robbing me?"
"It's not robbery. These things were never yours to begin with!"
"I've paid for them. Why don't they belong to me? Or are you bullying me because you have more people?"
Okoye's anger flared, but T'Challa reached out, placing a calming hand on her shoulder.
"Sir, perhaps you don't fully understand the situation," T'Challa began, his tone gentle and polite.
"The seller you're dealing with is a thief, and the goods you're about to purchase are stolen property."
"And then?" Hong Fei asked.
"These items belong to Wakanda, and we must reclaim them. As for your losses, I'll compensate you double."
"But I just want what I paid for," Okoye insisted, frustration creeping into her voice. She shot Hong Fei a sharp look.
"Stop being unreasonable. This is a matter of national importance for Wakanda!"
Hong Fei tilted his head slightly, his expression calm but dismissive.
"And what does that have to do with me?" he replied, his tone casual yet cutting. Okoye's brows furrowed deeply, her irritation simmering just beneath the surface. Catching T'Challa's subtle shake of his head, she clenched her jaw and turned away, reluctantly gathering the two cases of Vibranium.
"Wouldn't it be easier to just set those down and hand them over?" Hong Fei suggested, leaning forward slightly. His voice carried a hint of mockery.
"I'd rather not resort to force."
Okoye spun around, her eyes blazing.
"One last warning," she snapped, her voice sharp and commanding. "This belongs to Wakanda!"
Hong Fei rose slowly, his movements deliberate.
"Then let me warn you as well," he said, his tone icy. "Only out of respect for this gentleman's earlier courtesy. You will put down what you're holding, and then all of you will leave. Now."
He paused, his gaze locking onto hers.
"I can pretend nothing happened."