After locking Alexandra up, Harry hadn't paid any attention to her.
He just waited until her withdrawal symptoms kicked in.
Anyway, Harry only wanted the Secret Drug; as long as the other four fingers were willing to speak, she would have no value.
When Harry saw this woman again, her eyes were bloodshot, her face was as pale as paper, and her limbs were trembling.
"Poor woman." Harry clapped his Hands and turned off the surveillance feed.
"It seems your eye for choosing a leader isn't very good."
Harry said to the old woman in front of him, crossing his legs.
It was Madam Gao; this shrewd old woman had returned to New York.
Hearing Harry's words, she could only smile and nod.
"Mr. Osborn is truly young and promising; in less than two days, you have cured the Governor's illness."
Madam Gao got straight to the point as soon as she spoke.
The key to triggering this war was the Dragon Bone Secret Drug. If Norman Osborn hadn't had an accident, the Hand wouldn't have targeted Osborn, and Harry wouldn't have decided to take the initiative against the Hand.
But the Dragon Bone was ultimately meant for Norman Osborn. Now that Norman Osborn was cured, what was the point of the Dragon Bone?
This was exactly what Madam Gao wanted to know—how much bargaining power the Dragon Bone actually had.
As for continuing to fight in this situation—Madam Gao wasn't addicted to drugs, so Harry couldn't influence her thoughts.
"Madam Gao, stop talking in riddles with me. I think you are a very smart elder; after all, you listened to my advice last time."
Harry was referring to the time he told Madam Gao to leave New York.
Madam Gao not only left New York but also wiped the evidence clean. Because of this, the previous operation didn't have a direct impact on the Hand.
"I still need the Dragon Bone powder, but as you can see, the priority isn't as high anymore. So the conditions remain the same: the Secret Drug, you leave New York, and the shares of the Rand Corporation—of course, I will give you some compensation."
Facing Madam Gao, Harry could no longer act as recklessly as before.
The Hand, after all, was not Kingpin; they weren't just a local gang, but a global organization.
If they really fought on this level, it would have some impact on Osborn.
"Regarding this matter, I know you don't like the drug trade. We can withdraw all drug trade from New York, but completely pulling out of New York is something the others won't accept."
Madam Gao's terms were simple: they could make concessions, but they wouldn't fully back down.
Harry also knew what kind of petty calculations they were making.
"I know you've been digging for Dragon Bone under Midtown, and once the Dragon Bone is dug out, New York City will be finished."
Harry's words made Madam Gao's expression change—this was the worst-case scenario; Harry knew everything.
"And I also know that you don't have much Dragon Bone powder left."
In other words, the trick of resurrection couldn't be played many more times, and the Hand's influence had reached an all-time low.
"Since that's the case, you should know that we won't withdraw from New York."
Harry shook his head.
"Madam Gao, you still don't understand. If you leave New York, you can still go elsewhere to find Dragon Bone. But if you don't leave, you'll have to answer for it here today."
"If you accept, this is a deal."
Harry spread his Hands.
Madam Gao's expression was uncertain.
But what else did they have to offer?
"We can withdraw from New York, yes. But we can't give you the Rand Corporation." After thinking for a long time, Madam Gao decided to end the war.
As for the Dragon Bone, anyway, with Osborn guarding the pile of Dragon Bone in New York, they wouldn't be able to dig it up.
If they didn't reconcile with Harry, they would be finished right now.
Now was the most vulnerable time for the Hand; they couldn't afford any more trouble.
Compared to the original plot, they hadn't resurrected Bakuto and Elektra yet. If they were just resurrecting ordinary people, it wouldn't take much of the Secret Drug; at least they would have some left after giving some to Harry.
"Also, we want power armor."
Hearing this, Harry nodded indifferently.
"Of course, 50 units, but they are the old versions. If I recall correctly, Fisk seems to have stolen some."
Seeing Harry nod, Madam Gao also smiled, though it was an ugly smile.
At least there was some good news.
"So, this explosion was also planned by Fisk?"
"Of course, he is a gang emperor. It's not surprising at all that he could do these things from prison. But it's a pity his plane crashed; perhaps this is divine retribution."
The two shook Hands.
"After many days of investigation, we finally discovered that the mastermind behind all this is the same person who planned the Hell's Kitchen bombing more than half a year ago."
"Wilson Fisk."
"Even in prison, he completed this series of terrorist attacks through his remaining forces—especially with the sponsorship of overseas forces—and was preparing to escape sanctions step by step by transferring prisons."
"But fortunately, through the unremitting efforts of the new Governor, Norman Osborn, the NYPD, the courts, the National Guard, and various agencies coordinated effectively to successfully root out the 'Fisk Criminal Empire' hidden in the shadows."
"And it is regrettable that by the time we found clues proving all of this was related to him, he and the implicated officials had already boarded a plane."
People in front of the TV sighed, and some even cursed.
But the host didn't seem to show regret; instead, they seemed somewhat gleeful.
"This plane."
On TV, they broadcast the news from a few days ago about a plane that crashed after being struck by lightning.
"It really is just desserts, isn't it?"
The report ended, and Matt looked at Harry.
"Did you tamper with the plane?"
Harry spread his Hands: "No."
Although he felt Harry wasn't lying, Matt always felt something was wrong.
"By the way, do you know about meditation?" Harry said mysteriously.
Matt was stunned for a moment. The word "meditation" reminded him of when his teacher trained him a long time ago.
He needed to learn to control his senses and imagine himself as a weapon, not a person, which multiplied his combat effectiveness.
That was also a type of meditation.
"I recently discovered some fun techniques. Close your eyes—no, no, you don't need to close your eyes."
Matt spread his Hands, not knowing what Harry wanted to say.
"Imagine, imagine what you look like, imagine the people around you."
Matt raised an eyebrow at Harry, and Harry was stunned for a moment—it seemed Matt was always in a state close to meditation.
Harry tapped his head; in his eagerness to show off, how could he have forgotten this?
"Alright, since you're already in the zone, wait for me a second."
Harry closed his eyes and began to meditate.
Matt only felt that in his perception, Harry's vital signs gradually became weak. If Harry had always been like a volcano before, now he was like he had begun to hibernate.
As Matt focused his attention, he felt as if something on Harry was connecting to his own mind—
That was a feeling of anger!
"How did you do this?" Matt had strong resistance in this area and didn't lose control.
Harry opened his eyes, not expecting that even using his strongest output, he hadn't shaken Matt's emotions.
However, even a normal person would easily notice this emotional change.
Unless they had suffered some mental damage—for example, drug addiction.
"This is a theory, not quite the same as science in the general sense."
A theory of influencing reality by strengthening one's will in a certain aspect.
"Just like how he trained me." Matt nodded in deep agreement.
This "he" referred to Matt's master—Stick.
Speaking of Stick, now that the Hand had been beaten by Harry like rats crossing the street, what else could these street heroes do?
He would have to find something for them to do later.
Starting with Matt.
"So what do you want with me this time? It can't just be to show off this 'new theory' of yours, right?" Matt tapped the table.
"Of course not. Remember what I told you last time? Are you interested in being a judge?"
Matt's conditions were very suitable for working in the judicial system.
A Columbia University law graduate, with an excellent resume as a lawyer and rich experience.
As for the vacant judge position, Norman was now the Governor; many things could be maneuvered.
"Your idea is dangerous." Matt frowned.
"But your resume is truly excellent; you were the one who sent Fisk in. All you lack is a powerful backer, and Osborn can be that backer."
"Justice is blind, so is there anyone more suitable than you?"
Harry crossed his Hands and stared at Matt.
As for this daredevil, there were some things he had to admit: street heroes really couldn't change that much.
"I won't become an Osborn man, you know that."
"Of course I know."
Harry spread his Hands. You are justice, but justice is on Osborn's side.
After thinking for a long time, Matt nodded.
"Very good! You will receive the recommendation of Governor Norman Osborn. The hearing will be held soon; get ready."
Norman clapped his Hands and took a stack of documents out of his briefcase.
"Prepare according to this."
Matt took the documents, still feeling a bit unaccustomed.
The process of applying to be a judge is long and detailed, but Harry had already paved a golden path for him.
This was truly rare in his life.
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