While Hayate Shiranui was leaving Tony Stark's seaside villa, trouble was brewing elsewhere.
At the Stark Industries headquarters, Obadiah Stane sat in his office, his face like a thundercloud. He glared at the subordinate reporting to him and roared, "What did you say?"
"No information? Impossible! How can a grown man have no digital footprint?"
The employee kept his head low, speaking in a trembling voice. "We've run every check, sir. There is absolutely nothing on him—no social security, no tax records, no network data. Even facial recognition comes up empty. We can't link him to any known corporation, government agency, or private fund."
"Furthermore," the man continued, "the surveillance footage from the reactor hall was tampered with. The audio was professionally scrubbed. We can't hear a word they said, but it clearly involved the reactor. He was touching it, inspecting it."
Obadiah felt his blood pressure spiking. I know it involved the reactor, you idiot!
He knew that hall wasn't for casual chats. If Tony took a total stranger there and then immediately to his private villa—which Obadiah knew served as a high-tech lab—it meant Tony was showing off his latest research. The miniaturized Arc Reactor.
"Get out! Keep digging," Obadiah barked. "No one drops out of thin air. Even deep-cover government spooks leave shadows. Use every corporate resource we have. I want to know who that man is and what he wants with Tony."
Once alone, Obadiah stood before his massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the city. "Tony... you survived the desert only to bring home a new golden egg. I was willing to let you live if you played the part, but if you're trying to cut me out of Stark Industries' future, don't blame me for being ruthless."
Elsewhere in New York, the remaining fingers of the Hand—Alexandra, Bakuto, Sowande, and Murakami—had arrived through secret channels.
They gathered in a secure conference room, each accompanied by elite guards and carrying a small, reinforced leather case.
Alexandra broke the silence. "You all brought your shares of the Dragon Bone?"
Murakami was the first to speak. "This operation carries risk. Even with our combined strength, accidents happen. If any of us fall, I want the Dragon Bone nearby so our followers can retrieve the body for immediate resurrection. I have no intention of ending up like Madame Gao—turned into a pile of ash."
The others nodded in grim agreement. Without the Dragon Bone, death was final. But as long as the essence remained, they were eternal.
"According to our intel," Alexandra continued, "one week ago, Shiranui Hayate purchased a plot of land in Hell's Kitchen and began an excavation. During that time, a localized seismic event was recorded at the site."
The others gasped. "He found it? The Dragon Bone?"
Alexandra shook her head. "I cannot confirm if he secured it. However, I do know that Stick and his Chaste members ambushed Hayate's High Table forces at that site. The result? The Chaste has been annihilated. Hayate, meanwhile, sustained negligible losses."
The news of their old rival Stick's demise was a shock. The Chaste had been a thorn in the Hand's side for centuries. For them to be wiped out so easily spoke volumes about the Shiranui Agency's lethality.
"I have already sent word to Stick's prize pupil, Elektra, in Greece," Alexandra added coldly. "I suspect she will be quite motivated to avenge her master."
Seeing the grave expressions around the table, Alexandra signaled her men. A dozen subordinates entered, carrying several heavy crates. At her nod, they pried them open.
The first crate contained RPG launchers and a stockpile of grenades.
The second was filled to the brim with fragmentation explosives.
The third held a terrifying weapon: a Croatian RT-20 anti-materiel cannon.
The fourth housed an M134 Minigun with massive belts of ammunition.
"Gentlemen, the era has changed," Alexandra said, her eyes gleaming. "The days of sending a few ninjas with short swords and shuriken are over. Even standard handguns and assault rifles lack the necessary 'stopping power.' We heard reports of explosions and heavy gunfire in Hell's Kitchen."
"Therefore, we will meet force with overwhelming destruction. We are going to erase Shiranui Hayate and his agency from the map."
Bakuto frowned. "Are you trying to start a war? If you use those in Hell's Kitchen, people look the other way. But his agency is in Queens—Forest Hills. You think the New York government will just ignore a military-grade bombardment?"
Murakami and Sowande looked hesitant. "Alexandra, that isn't a combat zone..."
Alexandra offered a confident, chilling smile. "Do not worry. I have already made the 'arrangements.' After midnight, 71st Avenue in Forest Hills will be effectively locked down. The area will belong to us. As long as we vanish before dawn and scrub the site, there will be no consequences."
"The price for this cooperation was Madame Gao's seat."
"The individual helping us will become our new fifth finger. In return, we gain the support of powerful figures across America and beyond. This is part of a larger partnership. I assume no one has any objections to this trade?"
Murakami narrowed his eyes. "Replacing a finger requires a unanimous vote. You haven't told us who this candidate is, Alexandra."