C81: Master Ye
"Penglai, Ye Wen?"
Danny's words were heavy with implication, especially the name Ye Wen.
To Matt Murdock, it immediately triggered a connection. He remembered what A Xing had said before—how Master Ye was a living legend from Penglai, trained in the ancient martial philosophies rooted in Taoist traditions and Buddhist combat disciplines—something only whispered among mystical circles like Shambhala or Kamar-Taj.
As expected of a superhero with superhuman senses, Matt didn't miss a beat.
In a dim corner of the taquería, Wesley—the sharp-eyed consigliere of Wilson Fisk—watched silently. Seeing Matt frown in recognition, he realized his quiet preparations with Li Ran hadn't been in vain.
"Why, have you heard that name before?" Danny asked, still standing by the door, his aura glowing faintly from the residual Chi of the Iron Fist.
"…Yeah," Matt said after a moment. "An ally once mentioned a man from Penglai named Master Ye. Someone who wielded a philosophy of combat that could match even the Ancient One's disciples. His fists weren't just weapons—they were like scripture."
"What happened to him?" Danny glanced around at the weary Defenders.
The moment he asked, the entire restaurant fell silent.
Jessica looked away. Luke Cage, wincing as he adjusted the ribs fractured by the Fire Cloud Evil God's devastating palm, answered grimly, "He's dead. Ambushed by Hand assassins during a skirmish in Chinatown near Roosevelt Park. It was a trap—same kind they used on Stick."
"Sorry," Danny muttered. "I think I get it now… Master Ye once told me a disciple of Penglai had fallen in New York. That's why he came here. He also spoke of a being—someone called the Fire Cloud Evil God."
Jessica's instincts as a former SHIELD-trained investigator stirred.
She glanced at the others, all battered and bloodied. "Guys, I don't need to remind you what just happened. That freak—Fire Cloud Evil God—curb-stomped us like we were street thugs. Matt was nearly killed in front of us."
"So what's your point?" Luke asked, crossing his arms despite the pain.
"I'm saying, why don't we track down someone who might actually stand a chance against that monster? This Master Ye—he's from Penglai, just like A Xing. He came here because of Fire Cloud. That's not a coincidence. He probably knows more about that thing than all of us combined."
Well played, Jessica Jones.
Her argument cleanly redirected the conversation toward Ye Wen conveniently serving Li Ran's objectives without making it seem orchestrated.
Wesley, catching the cue, added smoothly, "The creature you fought wasn't just strong—it was an entity laced with mythic energy, possibly older than the Sorcerer Supreme's own texts. If you want to stop him, you'll need someone with deeper lore."
Matt nodded slowly, absorbing Wesley's insight. Then he turned to Danny.
"Do you know where this Master Ye went?"
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Meanwhile…
The Hand's Manhattan Stronghold.
The Fire Cloud Evil God sat perched on a ruined throne fashioned from broken marble and obsidian. His eyes glowed faintly with ancient qi as he stared down at Madame Gao and the remaining three fingers of the Hand—Alexandra Reid, Bakuto, and Botuso.
His posture was casual, but the tension was palpable.
"We're looking for the Iron Fist," Alexandra said finally. "He appeared during your last battle and disrupted our plans. We need his Chi. With it, we can open the Celestial Gateway—a sealed interdimensional conduit hidden beneath New York's underworld. It was once guarded by Shou-Lao the Undying, and contains the energy we need to sustain our immortality."
The Evil God's gaze sharpened, but his expression remained unreadable.
"Immortality, huh? You mean like the old fools in Penglai?"
Gao flinched slightly.
The Evil God tilted his head. "Let me guess. You drain ancient bones—keystones, dragon remains, corrupted ley lines to cheat death. Amusing. But your so-called immortality is a mockery of real power. You cling to it like parasites."
"You don't understand," snarled Botuso, eyes alight with fury. "Our order has outlasted empires. We've survived Genghis Khan, Napoleon, even SHIELD's purges. We've walked through history unseen. Time is the most terrifying force in the universe and we've mastered it!"
"Yet here you are," the Evil God chuckled. "Aching for scraps of a dragon's corpse."
"This is only temporary!" Bakuto barked. "Once the gate is open, we'll channel the primordial energy beyond dimensions. Even K'un-Lun will bow to us."
The Fire Cloud Evil God's smile faded.
"You're loud. I don't like that."
With a blur, he vanished from his seat and before anyone could blink, he was in front of them.
Bakuto raised his blade, infused with dark Chi but it didn't matter.
Compared to Murakami, who had been effortlessly snapped like a twig, these leaders at least managed to mount a symbolic resistance. But they were relics of another time—beings who had stagnated while the world evolved.
Even united, they were no match.
The Evil God's palms glowed with Burning Vajra Palm, a forbidden Penglai martial art lost during the fall of the last Azure Temple. A deep Sanskrit hum radiated from his body as golden sigils lit up the air with every movement.
One by one, they fell.
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[Famousness from Alexandra +900]
[Famousness from Botuso +750]
[Legend from Wanda +1000]
---
The throne room fell quiet once again.
Only Madame Gao remained, trembling as she stood among the ashes of her long-standing comrades.
The Fire Cloud Evil God resumed his seat. "See? Simpler this way. One voice. One command. Yours."
The weight of his gaze pinned her in place.
Mrs. Gao, decades older than she looked and no stranger to horror, bowed her head low. Around her, the weapons of assassins lay scattered—Chaste relics, arcane scrolls, even a few dark artifacts once stolen from Dr. Strange's Sanctum Sanctorum.
She dared not lift her eyes.
"…As you command, Evil God," she rasped. "Everything will be as you wish."
Her hand tightened around her cane. The era of shadows had shifted.
And the Fire Cloud Evil God now sat on the throne.
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