The air in the underground secret room of Renxin Hall smelled of three things: herbal medicine, ozone, and the fresh ink of newly printed stock charts.
Zhou Mo sat in front of his workbench.
To his left was a jade bottle sealing a faint electrical arc, and to his right was a second-hand computer, its screen displaying a crisscrossing pattern of red and green charts.
He took a deep breath, circulating his Nine Breaths of Qi Refinement for a full cycle.
The balance between the light and dark energy inside him stabilized further.
“Alright,” he murmured to himself.
“Time to start multi-threading.” The workbench was divided into three distinct areas.
The left side was his lab: electroshock equipment “borrowed” from a decommissioned LexCorp San Francisco warehouse, an oscilloscope, and a pile of disassembled circuit boards.
The center was the analysis zone: hand-drawn diagrams modeling energy flow, flanked by dense columns of mathematical formulas.
The right side was his operations desk: a computer, a phone, and a stack of documents for newly opened bank accounts.
Zhou Mo dealt with the left side first.
He picked up the jade bottle and uncorked it.
A tiny arc of electricity leaped out, dancing across the bottle’s rim.
Activating his Wall-Piercing Vision to its full capacity, he entered a microscopic view where the trajectories of the electrical particles became crystal clear.
This wasn’t just raw current; it was laced with the remnants of emotional frequencies: the wild frenzy of anger, the chaotic disarray of fear, the gentle flow of calm.
“Emotional resonance,” Zhou Mo jotted down in his notebook.
“Standard insulation is useless.
However, a guiding channel can be established through frequency tuning.” He thought of the Nine Breaths of Qi Refinement from the Tiangang Arts.
The essence of that technique was to harmonize the world’s primordial qi.
If he could adjust its frequency to simulate a stable energy field, he might be able to put a leash on Livewire’s powers.
It required experimentation.
But not right now.
Zhou Mo turned back to his computer.
On the screen was a California company called Silicon Light Technology, stock code SGTC.
The company had released a new chip last week, and its stock price had been riding a wild roller coaster ever since.
He closed his eyes.
Foresight, activate.
He didn’t look far ahead, focusing only on the next two hours.
Fragmented visions rushed in: At 10:15, the stock price would suddenly spike by three percent.
At 10:40, institutional dumping would cause the price to nose-dive.
At 11:00 sharp, positive news would break, triggering a rebound.
Zhou Mo glanced at the clock: 9:58 AM.
He logged into his trading account.
The account, under the alias “Zhou Ming,” held 872 dollars, which he had snowballed from an initial 300 dollars last week using the exact same method.
He went all-in on SGTC with a market order.
At 10:00 sharp, the order was filled.
At 10:15, the stock price spiked right on schedule.
Zhou Mo didn’t move.
At 10:40, the wave of institutional selling hit, and the price plummeted.
Zhou Mo placed a limit order at the absolute bottom to buy more shares, reinvesting his paper profits.
At 11:00 sharp, the positive news arrived, and the stock rebounded.
He liquidated his entire position at the peak of the rebound.
Account balance: 3,435 dollars.
“Slower than robbing a bank, but a hell of a lot safer.” Zhou Mo logged out and cleared his cache.
Operating only once a day, rotating brokerage accounts, and keeping the trades under a few thousand dollars.
In a month, he would have gathered enough for his “first pot of gold.” The phone rang.
Zhou Mo picked it up.
“Boss, the map has been updated,” Remy’s voice came through.
“Over on the Wah Ching side, Mad Dog Johnny is officially out of commission.
Right now, his underlings Ah Biao and Skinny Monkey are fighting for the top spot.
The Italians are busy fighting the Russians for control of the dock warehouses.
As for the Foot Clan…
things are getting interesting.” “Speak.” “They have three training hubs in the Bay Area; I’ve mapped out two of them.
Their smuggling routes primarily rely on shipping, but they’ve recently started using trucks.
Also, Weyland-Yutani has a biotech lab in Silicon Valley.
Last month, a shipment of ‘special samples’ arrived at the port, and it cleared through the Foot Clan’s channels.
Umbrella Corporation has an office building downtown.
Officially, they’re in pharmaceuticals, but I looked into their import-export logs, and some of their equipment looks highly suspicious.” Zhou Mo jotted these down on his intel board.
“Any progress on deciphering the symbols on the Foot Clan’s metal cases?” “I reached out to an antique dealer.
He said the symbols look a bit like sealing talismans used by ancient Japanese Onmyoji, but mixed with elements of mechanical blueprints.
He wasn’t sure, so he suggested I find someone who actually specializes in this stuff.” “Keep digging.
Let me know if you run low on funds.” “I have enough for now.
Oh, right, there’s also some gossip.” Remy’s tone turned casual.
“Back in New York, the Maggia still haven’t given up looking for that test subject.
Supposedly named Martin Li.
They’ve put out a black market bounty on him, dead or alive.
Word on the street is they hired a real heavy hitter to track him down.” Zhou Mo’s fingers paused.
“Who?” “Elektra Natchios.
Ever heard of her?
Supposedly a top-tier assassin who charges astronomical rates.
The Maggia is really shelling out for this.” “Understood.” Zhou Mo’s voice remained flat.
“Keep an eye out for anyone matching her description appearing in San Francisco recently.
Female, East Asian or mixed race, mid-twenties, highly skilled in combat, likely wielding dual sai.” “You know her, Boss?” “I’ve heard of her,” Zhou Mo said.
“That’s all for now.
Back to work.” Hanging up, Zhou Mo stared at the name “Elektra Natchios” on his intel board.
Dark Angel.
Daredevil’s old flame, a former trump card of The Hand, now a freelancer.
Her threat level was a whole step above the Foot Clan’s.
He needed a plan, but he couldn’t panic.
Elektra was here to investigate Martin Li, and Martin Li was already dead.
Now, the one alive was Zhou Mo—acting as Zhou Ming, a doctor at Renxin Hall.
As long as he didn’t slip up, she wouldn’t find a thing.
But what if?
Zhou Mo circled Elektra’s name, writing next to it: *Observe, Misdirect, Contact if necessary.* If he could win over a pure martial arts master like her, her value would be no less than Gambit’s.
But first, he had to neutralize her initial investigation.
A knock came from outside the secret room.
Three short taps, one long—the agreed-upon signal.
Zhou Mo packed up his things and climbed the stairs.
The clinic was already closed, and Uncle Chen had gone home to rest.
Standing outside the back door was Leslie Willis.
She was wearing a black jacket tonight, her red hair tied in a ponytail, looking calmer than last time.
Yet, that volatile restlessness still flickered deep in her eyes, ready to erupt at any moment.
“You said you’d teach me how to control it,” Leslie said, cutting straight to the chase.
“I’m here.
Show me your ‘First Lesson.'” Zhou Mo stepped aside to let her in, locking the door behind her.
“Follow me.” He led her down into the basement room.
Leslie scanned the laboratory equipment, raising an eyebrow.
“What is this?
Some amateur science fair?” “This is your treatment room.” Zhou Mo pulled a modified, vintage radio from beneath the workbench.
Its casing had been stripped off, the internal circuit board completely rewired.
Nested at its core was a small shard of jade, etched with a simple stabilization rune.
“What’s this?” “An energy frequency stabilizer,” Zhou Mo said, flipping the switch.
The radio emitted a low hum.
No music played, but the static charge heavy in the air noticeably dissipated.
“It generates a stabilization field to help calm your energy spikes.
Give it a try.” Leslie eyed the radio skeptically, but she reached out anyway.
Tiny arcs of electricity crackled between her fingers, but as they drew close to the radio, the sparks became docile, slowing down.
“It works.
A little,” she admitted.
“That is an external aid,” Zhou Mo said, handing her a piece of paper and a jade pendant.
“And this is the internal method.
On the paper is a mental meditation technique.
Practice it for twenty minutes a day.
Keep the jade pendant on you; it will help stabilize your emotions.” Leslie took the pendant.
It felt warm and smooth, carrying a subtle, soothing effect.
She stared at Zhou Mo.
“That’s it?
A broken radio, a rock, and a sheet of paper?
You think this solves my problem?” “It’s a start,” Zhou Mo replied.
“Gaining control over your powers doesn’t happen overnight.
You need to learn two things: first, to perceive your own energy; and second, to intervene before it goes out of control.
The radio and the pendant create a stable environment for you, while the meditation technique teaches you to feel.
Once you master these, we’ll move on to the next phase.” Leslie fell silent for a few seconds.
She slipped the pendant into her pocket and folded the paper, tucking it away.
“How do I know this isn’t some scam?” “You don’t need to,” Zhou Mo said.
“You only need to try it for a week.
If it doesn’t work, you can smash the radio and strike me with lightning.
If it does…
we continue.” “And what’s the catch?” Leslie asked.
“I doubt you’re teaching me for free.” “I’ve already stated my terms,” Zhou Mo replied.
“I get to borrow your strength when I need it.
But I won’t force you to do anything that goes against your principles.
In addition, I’ll need your cooperation for a few tests to help me refine this method.” Leslie pondered this for a moment.
“One week.
I’ll be back in a week.” *** Zhou Mo returned to his workbench.
The oscilloscope screen flickered with static waveforms.
The stock market charts on his computer screen showed the day’s close.
On the intel board, Elektra’s name was circled in red.
Three distinct domains converged here.
Energy research, wealth accumulation, and an information network—now joined by a hunter coming from New York.
He had to move faster.
The control protocol for Livewire needed to be accelerated, his capital growth expanded, and his intelligence net woven tighter.
As for Elektra, he needed to prepare a contingency plan before she could uncover even a single trace.
Zhou Mo picked up his pen and wrote a few words next to Elektra’s name: *The Continental Hotel.
Neutral ground.
Approachable.*