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When Raymond arrived, Ren was already waiting for him.
He still had that same smiling, harmless look, and no one could tell from his face that he was actually a high-ranking figure in the biggest Chinese gang in North America.
"Long time no see, Doctor," Ren greeted warmly in Mandarin.
"Long time? It's only been a little over a month," Raymond laughed, patting his shoulder.
"Come on, let's go inside and talk."
"Sure, this way please."
Ren led Raymond inside. Along the way, waiters stopped in their tracks, nodding slightly to show respect as the two passed.
Once inside the private room, Ren clapped his hands to signal the waiter to bring tea.
After sitting down, Raymond went straight to the point. "We're friends, so no need for polite talk. That matter you asked the agency about before—what exactly is going on? Can you explain it in detail?"
"Of course, of course."
Ren nodded quickly and said, "Here's the situation. Lately, some of our brothers in the gang have suddenly been losing control of their emotions. At best, they pick fights. At worst, they pull out knives and slash people…"
"Isn't that what gangs normally do?" Raymond looked at him in surprise.
"You must be joking."
Ren shook his head with a bitter smile. "It's the twenty-first century. Killing is a crime… Unless there's no choice, no one wants to draw a knife or pull a gun. Not even us. Even the Kingpin's gang is trying to change."
"But the news shows shootings almost every day."
"Sure, they happen. But most of those shootings come from street punks or desperate people. Actual gang members don't account for much of it.
"Besides, Chinese gangs like ours aren't welcome in politics. If a major case breaks out, it's almost impossible to smooth things over.
"So over the years, we've kept things quiet. If we can avoid violence, we avoid it."
As Ren explained, Raymond gained a deeper understanding of the underground world in North America.
Ren knew Raymond had ties with S.H.I.E.L.D., so there was no point lying. For S.H.I.E.L.D., things like this were never a secret—any quick check would reveal the truth.
That was why, in this era where every gang was trying to "go legit," the North American Hongmen was no exception.
Normally, they wouldn't resort to knives or guns.
But according to Ren, something was clearly wrong lately with the Hongmen branch in Washington, D.C.
Many members were acting like they had swallowed gunpowder—ready to explode at the slightest spark, sometimes even striking with deadly force.
Some men who used to be calm were now like ticking bombs, which was very strange.
If it had just been one or two people, it could be brushed off as a sudden change in temper, nothing serious. It wouldn't have caught Ren's attention as the branch leader.
But in recent weeks, three men had already died from internal conflicts, all over tiny, meaningless arguments.
That immediately made Ren take notice and start digging into the matter.
What he found shocked him.
Within the past three months, fights and brawls inside the gang had increased by more than five times, with injuries and deaths shooting up as well. Many brothers were lying in hospitals.
Anyone could see something was wrong. A shrewd man like Ren of course saw it too.
But noticing a problem was one thing—figuring out the cause was another.
The change in these men seemed sudden and without any outside reason.
Even when asked, the men themselves couldn't explain it. They only said they felt more irritable than usual, getting angry over the smallest things.
Medical checks showed nothing wrong with their bodies.
This left Ren with a headache.
To fix a problem, you first had to find the source. But after a full week of investigation, he found nothing. The "hot-tempered brothers" had normal health, normal routines—nothing stood out.
And yet the problem clearly existed.
That made Ren realize this was no simple matter.
When he was at a loss, he suddenly thought of Raymond.
Back when he had helped Raymond set up his detective agency, they had chatted. Raymond had casually mentioned that the agency didn't just handle ordinary cases.
As a senior figure in the North American Hongmen, Ren of course knew about the existence of superpowered people.
The Hongmen's headquarters had such people, though not many. But branches like his could only recruit the most average ones—barely useful, yet demanding to be treated like royalty. Not worth it.
So he had no powered people under him.
But he had understood Raymond's hint—that his detective agency also took cases involving superpowered matters.
Which meant, the boss himself—Raymond—might be a superpowered person!
That was why Ren had been so polite to him from the start.
Yes, part of it was because of Vincent, but part of it was Raymond himself.
Now that trouble had erupted in the Washington branch, and it might involve the superpowered world, Ren's first thought was to ask headquarters for help.
But the headquarters' powered people acted so high and mighty. If this turned out to be nothing, they'd blame him harshly for wasting their time.
So he thought of Raymond.
"This time I came to you mainly to confirm whether our people are being targeted by someone with powers. If that's true, then I'll have reason to ask headquarters for help," Ren said plainly.
"I understand the situation," Raymond nodded. "I can take the case, of course. But my fees aren't low. Even if I give you a discount, it won't be cheap. Are you sure you want me?"
"Well… about how much? Could you give me an estimate first?" Ren asked cautiously, rubbing his hands together.
"Here's the deal. To find the source of the problem, one million. If you want me to solve the problem, the cost depends on how difficult it is. Of course, if you can handle it yourself afterward, that's fine too."
"One million? That's fine." Ren agreed right away.
That price was still within his reach. Besides, Raymond clearly wasn't overcharging. Even the Hongmen's own powered people back at headquarters charged much more whenever they had to make a move.
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