"Li Ming plans to complete a large illegal arms deal in three days at Dock Number Three. The buyers are a Sargon mercenary band. He's doing it both to retaliate against me—and to cement control over Hongsheng's underground leverage."
In the Gu estate's study, Gu Yunchuan reviewed the chip's contents, fingertips tapping lightly against the desk.
"Still refusing to learn." His eyes hardened.
The shipment was significant. If Li Ming succeeded, he'd gain a private armed force—and shove Lungmen's already tangled underworld into outright chaos. That crossed Gu Yunchuan's line.
"I won't let him succeed," Gu Yunchuan said flatly. "And I'm going to make sure he never gets back up."
A plan took shape in his mind at speed.
The next day, a rumor suddenly erupted through Lungmen's high society:
Gu Yunchuan of the Gu Group had taken a strong interest in an old warehouse district near Dock Number Three. He'd even sent people to survey it, supposedly intending to convert the area into a massive private party venue.
The rumor came with detail after detail—down to photos of Gu Yunchuan's assistants near the docks.
"Young Master Gu really knows how to play—buying a warehouse district just to throw parties?"
"Rich. Young. Lawless."
"I heard he even invited a Siesta idol to perform. Big spending."
Amid the chatter, the message made its way—inevitably—to Li Ming.
"Gu Yunchuan? Dock Number Three?" Li Ming sat in his office, a vicious grin spreading across his face. "Heaven has a road and he won't take it. Hell has no gate and he charges in anyway. Does he think I'm made of clay?"
He immediately called an encrypted contact.
"Vulture. I've got a new job for you. Three nights from now—Dock Number Three. I want Gu Yunchuan and everyone around him handled. Clean. Money isn't an issue."
After that, he contacted the Siracusan mob's local lead.
"The deal stays where it is. But I want more people on site. We'll also take care of a nuisance. If it goes smoothly, I'll sell you the shipment at twenty percent off."
In Li Ming's head, it was perfect: complete the transaction, erase his biggest headache.
What he didn't know was that every step he took was already inside a hunter's trap.
Gu Yunchuan had planted the rumor for two reasons:
First, to steer Li Ming's focus onto the idea of "killing Gu Yunchuan," loosening vigilance over the deal itself.
Second, to give himself a plausible "alibi"—a story that explained why he might be near the docks.
Three nights later, with everyone's eyes fixed on the "party warehouses," the true storm would arrive—quietly—somewhere no one expected.
Midnight, three days later. Dock Number Three.
Sea wind carried a wet, briny stink across the silent zone. Containers stacked like mountains in the distance—a maze of mute steel.
Inside Warehouse Two, Li Ming waited with over a dozen men, nerves fraying. Along the opposite wall, a squad of Siracusan gangsters leaned with arms folded, bad news written in their stance.
"Why isn't Vulture here yet?" Li Ming snapped, checking the time on his terminal.
"They say they're in position, Young Master," a subordinate answered. "They're waiting for Gu Yunchuan to show."
Just then, the rumble of a truck engine rolled in from outside.
"They're here." Li Ming straightened.
Minutes later, several tall mercenaries in Sargon garb entered under the lead of a one-eyed man.
"Li," the one-eyed man rasped. "Where's the goods?"
"Where's the money?" Li Ming shot back.
The one-eyed man clapped once. A mercenary hauled forward a heavy metal case and flipped it open—neatly stacked red gold.
"Good." Li Ming nodded, satisfied, and signaled his men.
They pulled away a massive waterproof tarp near the warehouse corner, revealing crate piles—weapons, stacked like a small hill.
As both sides approached to inspect and exchange—
Everything exploded.
Bang—bang—bang!
Vent shafts around the warehouse blew open. Dozens of shadows dropped down like apes and immediately fired crossbow bolts into the crowd.
"Blackclaw Gang!" the Siracusan leader roared. "They're trying to rob us!"
The warehouse turned into a slaughterhouse of chaos: bolts screaming, curses flying, bodies dropping.
Li Ming and his men panicked—they were businessmen, not fighters. They huddled and scrambled like rats.
The Sargon mercenaries were disciplined. They dove to cover and returned fire, grim and efficient.
No one noticed a black silhouette already perched in the warehouse's highest shadows, overlooking the carnage like a judge watching a farce.
"Perfect," the figure murmured. "Saves me the work."
Gu Yunchuan—now the Batman—watched without emotion.
The "black-eat-black" was his doing.
All he'd done was send an anonymous message to Blackclaw's boss: there was a "huge score" here tonight. Greedy scavengers came right on schedule.
He didn't strike immediately. A hunter waited.
The fight escalated quickly. The Sargon mercenaries were tough, but Blackclaw had numbers and surprise. The mercs were pushed back. Even the one-eyed leader took a stray bolt to the shoulder.
As Blackclaw neared victory, Gu Yunchuan decided it was time.
He drew three smoke bombs and tossed them into the warehouse's most contested zones.
Pop—pop—pop!
Thick white smoke surged outward, swallowing visibility.
"Cough—what the hell?!"
"Who threw smoke?!"
Through the haze, a black shadow fell from above.
Gu Yunchuan landed among the Siracusan thugs like death itself. He didn't draw a sword—didn't need to. Enhanced strength and speed from the suit, plus pure technique:
Knife-hand strikes. Elbows. Knees.
Every move was simple, efficient, devastating. One by one, men went down with snapped bones and ruined joints, combat-ready no more.
Then he turned on Blackclaw.
"He's there!" someone shouted, catching a glimpse of a black outline in the smoke, raising a crossbow—
A bat-dart whistled through and struck his wrist dead-on. The impact shattered bone.
"AAAH!"
The scream became a beacon.
Gu Yunchuan moved faster—smoke-ghost, uncatchable. The grapnel snapped and reeled, wrenching enemies off their feet: some hoisted into the air, others slammed into container walls with brutal force.
In less than five minutes, silence returned.
The floor was scattered with groaning bodies: Siracusan mobsters, Blackclaw raiders, Sargon mercenaries—every last one neutralized.
Only Li Ming and a few terrified subordinates remained unhurt in a corner, trembling.
As the smoke thinned, Gu Yunchuan stepped out of the darkness and stopped in front of Li Ming.
"W-who… who are you?" Li Ming stammered.
Gu Yunchuan didn't answer. He raised a hand and spoke, voice rough through the modulator:
"Tell everyone in Lungmen—betrayal and evil will be swallowed by the night."
Then he turned to leave.
At that moment, sirens tore through the dock's stillness.
Red-and-blue lights flashed through the warehouse door cracks, frantic as a heartbeat.
"The Guard Department? This fast?" Gu Yunchuan frowned. He'd timed the anonymous call—there should've been a ten-minute delay.
No time to think.
He raised his grapnel, aiming for the blown-out roof—
CREAK—
The heavy steel doors were forced open from outside with brute force.
A figure charged in first—Guard Department uniform, long blue hair streaming behind her, a crimson scabbard gripped in one hand.
Inspector Chen Huili of Lungmen's Special Superintendent Unit.
Her eyes were hawk-sharp. Instantly, she locked onto the black figure about to escape.
Their gazes met.
Through the cold mask, Gu Yunchuan felt the shock, caution—and a flicker of probing curiosity—inside those red, draconic pupils.
He didn't hesitate. The grapnel motor screamed. He shot upward like a cannon round, leaving Chen with a rapidly shrinking black speck—until it vanished into the deep night.
"Chen! Don't chase—this scene is messy!" Hoshiguma's voice crackled over her comms.
Chen stopped, staring at the direction the shadow had disappeared, brows drawn tight.
She moved through the scene, taking in the piles of incapacitated criminals and the gleaming weapon crates. Her expression hardened into something grave.
"Report the situation," she ordered coldly into the comm.
"Chen, we also caught a team lurking outside. They claim they're 'Vulture' mercenaries—said they were here to ambush Gu Yunchuan of the Gu Group…"
"Gu Yunchuan?" Chen's eyes shifted. She crouched beside Li Ming and found a data chip placed as if deliberately left.
She connected it to her terminal.
Her pupils tightened.
Hongsheng Group's illegal dealings with the Siracusan mob—complete documentation. A terrifyingly clean evidence chain.
"This person…" Chen murmured. "He had everything prepared."
A Guard Department officer approached with an evidence bag.
"Chen, we found this on one of the unconscious mercenaries."
Chen took the bag. Inside was a small, bat-shaped piece of black metal.
"Batman…" The word surfaced in her mind, strange yet fitting. Her expression turned complex and unreadable.
Tonight, Lungmen would not sleep.
-------
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