Alexandra’s Plan

In Manhattan, at an upscale villa.

Alexandra enjoyed a delicious breakfast as usual.

Unlike Madame Gao, she had always maintained her love for this world, savoring every day of her long life. And while squandering time, she enjoyed every kind of wonder the prosperous world had to offer:

Delicious food, beautiful scenery, elegant music, handsome men.

She had enjoyed every beautiful thing in this world, yet it was never enough.

The appearance of the Immortal Iron Fist and Ghost Rider had put her in an unprecedentedly foul mood. Fortunately, on this not-too-terrible morning, there was still something to be happy about.

"Madam, Mr. Murakami has arrived." The well-dressed butler was respectful and impeccably mannered.

"Let him in."

Alexandra set down her knife and fork, smoothed her dress, and slowly rose to her feet.

As noble and elegant as ever.

The doors opened, and a strong young Japanese man walked in.

"Old friend, how long has it been since we last met?" Alexandra asked with a smile.

"Fifty years, or sixty? If there were no need, we would never meet at all, just as we did before World War I, my most exalted and fearless leader, Madam Alexandra."

Murakami handed his coat to the butler, as at ease as if this were his own home. He stretched his arms and gave a half-smile. "Are you sure this meeting is important? You seem very weak, far weaker than I imagined. How much longer can you live?"

Alexandra did not answer at once.

All these years, she and her companions had avoided fighting, because their power came from dragon bones, not the energy of life itself. Every bit they consumed could not be replenished. Every battle accelerated the aging of their bodies and the failure of their organs.

Once their power ran out, they would die.

In mere minutes, even seconds, they would undergo the aging that others experienced over decades. In Daoist terms, it was called the Five Signs of Decay.

And now, she was nearing that day.

"I may only be able to hold on for a few more years, but if I die, how much longer can the rest of you last?"

Alexandra sat gracefully on her chair and looked at Murakami. "The last dragon bone is in my hands. I deserve it; I saved it over all these years. Madame Gao is the oldest among us. She did not obtain dragon bones until she was over a hundred, so even though she avoided battle whenever possible, her consumption was faster than any of ours. Sowande, Bokuto, and you enjoy killing and fighting. Though you are all younger than me, you have consumed even more than I have."

"The dragon bones were taken from K’un-Lun by the five of us. They belong to all of us. The last resource does not belong to you. It belongs to everyone."

Murakami glanced at Alexandra, utterly blunt. "I think Bokuto and Sowande would agree with that. They came too, didn’t they?"

Alexandra smiled faintly, clearly unafraid of Murakami’s threat. "You all came not because I am your leader, but because you are all afraid. Madame Gao’s death frightened you. This generation’s Immortal Iron Fist may not be as powerful as the one from our era, but we no longer have dragon bones, and our power is far weaker than before. We simply cannot fight him."

"So?" Murakami raised a brow.

"So, just as I said before, we need to borrow other forces, even the most terrifying and uncontrollable ones."

Alexandra picked up the remote and pressed a button. The home theater turned on, followed by a news report.

"At a farm in eastern Missouri, a family of seven was brutally murdered. The killer was actually a fourteen-year-old boy?"

"Our reporters say the scene was shocking. More than ten police officers retched, and reporters did not even dare approach."

"An unnamed officer claimed this was the most disgusting crime scene he had seen in his twenty-three years on the force, without question."

"Multiple organs were missing from the victims, whose bodies bore claw marks and bite wounds!"

"All poultry and livestock were dead. The only surviving female dog was terrified and restless!"

Though the scattered footage had been blurred, the disgusting nature of the scene and the killer’s brutality were still apparent.

But Murakami was clearly used to such things. He frowned slightly. "The killer is the Black Sky? Beast has descended?"

Alexandra nodded. "Judging by the scene, Beast has completely taken control of that boy’s mind and will. The constant killing has allowed more and more of its power to descend into this world. It is strong now, but it has drawn the attention of the police, S.H.I.E.L.D., and even Hydra. It needs our help, and we need its power."

Murakami pinched the bridge of his nose. "We can summon it and help more of its power descend into this world, but we cannot control it."

A trace of mockery appeared on Alexandra’s face. "Other than Madame Gao, I was the most opposed to letting it descend, while you were the strongest supporter. Murakami, are you afraid? Only Beast can defeat, even kill, the Immortal Iron Fist."

"Afraid? Madam, you know me. Would I be afraid? Don’t provoke me. I simply do not want us to be killed by Beast before we return to K’un-Lun."

Murakami stared at the television screen and said in a low voice, "Madam, for you to be willing to take such a risk, it seems your time truly is running out. Have you arranged everything?"

Alexandra nodded. "Wilson Fisk has people in the police department and is trying to conceal Beast’s whereabouts. My people will bring it here soon. Then I will give it the remaining dragon bones and perform the ritual for that boy, making him stronger—and thus making Beast stronger."

Murakami’s eyes narrowed. "That is our hope of resurrection! If we use the last dragon bones, then if any one of us dies, we can never be resurrected again!"

Alexandra sneered. "The Immortal Iron Fist is not a fool, and neither is Stick. As long as they cut off our heads or completely destroy our bodies, even if they captured and killed Shou-Lao, we would have no way to resurrect."

Murakami fell silent for a full two minutes before finally speaking. "What is the exact plan?"

Alexandra smiled.

The hardest person to persuade, Madame Gao, was dead. Murakami, the one who understood Beast best and feared it most, had been convinced.

This plan could now be carried out!

During the day, Old Wang lay in a rattan chair teaching Robbie and Gabe. At night, he sat on the sofa teaching Matt, Elektra, and Stick. He returned to the Azeroth Specialties Shop at around ten-thirty, then lay in bed in the dead of night teaching Skye until dawn.

He had originally wanted to buy an apartment, but Skye had used all their money to buy Stark Industries stock.

After all these days, Stark Industries’ stock price had gone through its initial cliff-like plunge and gradually recovered through the efforts of all its employees. Even if Old Wang sold now, he could still make quite a profit.

By his calculations, the future Iron Man would probably be born soon. Once the news came out, the stock price would surely soar. Enduring temporary pain in exchange for pleasure not far off, Old Wang naturally could not just go limp like that. He kept going without stopping.

Skye’s truck was not suitable for living in at all, while Old Wang’s rented studio apartment had only one bed. Skye was unwilling to stay there; it would not be appropriate for a lone man and woman.

Old Wang truly could not understand it. The Azeroth Specialties Shop also had only one bed, and it was also just a lone man and woman. Why was it fine for her to stay there?

Could this girl be picky about beds?

If she was picky about beds, couldn’t they just buy another one? Did she really have to squeeze into one with him?

And it was only a four-foot bed.

Just like now.

Old Wang was broad-minded and fat. The moment he lay down, he took up most of the bed.

There was not much space left for Skye…

Fortunately, Old Wang had come up with a good solution: Skye could sleep in the rattan chair!

It was already the middle of the night.

Sweaty, exhausted, and sleepy, Skye was just about to carry Old Wang from the bed to the rattan chair so she could make room for herself and grab a little sleep.

Suddenly, the phone rang. It was Black Widow.

"Master Wang, your equipment is ready."

"Also, you are a special consultant for S.H.I.E.L.D. You earn even more than I do, yet you have not come to work for an entire week… Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?"