Chapter Eighteen: The Old Man with the Staff

After the firefight, Hell’s Kitchen sank into an uneasy calm. Not only did organizations like Fisk’s and the Hand cease their activities, even the petty thugs, addicts, and hippies on the streets became noticeably restrained. For a while, there seemed to be an almost idyllic peace where no one dared steal and doors remained unlocked at night.

Yet any astute observer knew this tranquility was merely the lull before the storm. The clash between Vladimir and Fisk did not just affect the two parties; their reckless gunfight had ripped open the chaos of Hell’s Kitchen for the entire world to see. For whatever reason, during these times, Hell’s Kitchen had become the focal point of every interested power. At such a critical juncture, any reckless move would provoke a response from all sides.

Even Gu Zhongyan refrained from sending his Guardian Spirit to watch over Hell’s Kitchen during this period. The incident with Lady Gao had taught him that, although the Guardian Spirit could elude the notice of ordinary people, there were some who could sense its presence. If he hadn’t been able to make the Guardian Spirit fade away instantly at that crucial moment, Lady Gao’s attention would have jeopardized his plans. To release the Guardian Spirit recklessly now, should he encounter Lady Gao again, would spell disaster.

However, keeping the Guardian Spirit hidden did not mean Gu Zhongyan was idle. Lady Gao’s formidable strength had made him wary and acutely aware of the need to further enhance his own abilities. Given the current circumstances, further personal advancement seemed unlikely; he could only improve his external equipment. Thus, he discreetly sought out Melvin, the tailor who crafted special suits for Fisk, and commissioned custom uniforms for both himself and Matt.

Moreover, though he still hadn’t managed to concoct any magical potions beyond healing elixirs, his experiments had yielded several potent toxins—deadly trump cards now in his possession.

Day by day, Gu Zhongyan’s life seemed to settle into a deceptive calm. One evening, returning to his modest apartment after school as usual, he was about to open the door when a sudden gust swept toward him from behind. His pupils contracted; without thinking, he rolled to the side, his backpack slipping off in an instant. Gripping the strap, he swung it like a meteor hammer, hurling the book-laden bag toward the source of the attack.

There was a loud clang as the bag collided with something. In the next moment, a deft force wrapped around the strap. It twisted and yanked, sending a sharp pain through his palm and forcing him to release the backpack.

Out of the darkness, another fierce attack rushed at him. “Guardian Spirit!” Gu Zhongyan silently invoked, and his invisible protector sprang forth, illuminating the shadows. The assailant was wielding a pitch-black cane—not just any cane, but a blind man’s staff. Standing in the gloom was a gaunt, elderly man, his thin frame clad in a tattered shirt, resembling nothing so much as a bamboo pole.

The Stick!

The iconic figure made Gu Zhongyan instantly recognize his attacker. But why was the Stick assaulting him? There was no time to ponder. With agile steps, Gu Zhongyan dodged the sweeping cane like a mountain cat.

At that moment, the Stick seemed to sense the Guardian Spirit’s presence. He frowned. “What is that?” he muttered. Then, with a sweep of his cane, a flurry of heavy strikes surged toward the invisible Guardian Spirit, an intangible force swirling around the cane like a net, closing in.

As expected, a master of “chi” could sense the Guardian Spirit, perhaps even strike it. Gu Zhongyan had no desire to find out what would happen if the Guardian Spirit was struck by chi. With a thought, he maneuvered the Guardian Spirit out of the cane’s path.

Simultaneously, his hand flashed and produced a small glass vial. He didn’t know why the Stick was attacking him, but he had no intention of taking a beating without retaliation. Whatever the reason, even if this was Matt’s mentor, an attack was an attack—and he would respond in kind.

With a cold snort, Gu Zhongyan hurled the vial. It shattered with a sharp crack, releasing a billowing green gas that quickly filled the entire hallway.

“Poison gas?” The Stick might have been blind, but like Matt, his extraordinary hearing let him instantly discern the vial’s deadly contents. Caught off guard by Gu Zhongyan’s response, the Stick’s expression shifted. He quickly gathered his chi, sweeping his cane in an arc that generated a wave of force, keeping the toxic fog at bay.

“Young man, I’m Matt’s teacher, not your enemy! Call off your poison!” the Stick shouted urgently.

Gu Zhongyan ignored him, instead springing forward like a tiger descending the mountain, left fist clenched and swinging straight at the Stick’s face.

“No ill intent? You broke into my home and ambushed me in the dark. Now you claim you mean no harm? Save it for someone gullible!” he retorted.

The Stick twisted his cane to deflect the attack. “I truly mean no harm. I only wanted to test your abilities,” he insisted.

Gu Zhongyan sneered. “Is that so? Then let me show you what I’m really capable of.”

With that, he pressed in, his upper body and shoulders swelling with muscle before the Stick’s eyes. His right leg lashed out with a sonic boom, aiming a lightning-fast kick at the old man’s abdomen.

It wasn’t that Gu Zhongyan didn’t believe the Stick. In truth, he knew as soon as the man spoke that this was not a hostile attack. But lack of malice did not mean benevolence—testing his abilities was just a way to establish dominance, to assert authority.

In the original story, the Stick had pulled this stunt with Matt. Now, with Gu Zhongyan in the picture, nothing had changed. But Gu Zhongyan was no Matt. He owed the Stick no bond of master and student, and he wasn’t about to play along.

If the Stick wanted to act the sage and test his strength with cryptic games, Gu Zhongyan would give him all he could handle. Far from backing down, he pressed his assault even harder.

In terms of sheer strength, Gu Zhongyan knew he couldn’t match the Stick. The man’s years of training in chi, his accumulated combat skills and experience—few, even Matt, could hope to win against him in a head-on fight.

But where brute force failed, cunning would suffice. The Stick might be blind, immune to tricks exploiting darkness, but he possessed chi and could sense the Guardian Spirit. So Gu Zhongyan deliberately maneuvered the Spirit to approach from another angle.

Able to sense but not comprehend the Guardian Spirit, the Stick dared not let it come close. Thus, while fending off Gu Zhongyan’s relentless offensive, he was also forced to keep wary of the Spirit.