"Right now I've got very little to go on." Danny shuddered. "The book of the Iron Fist kind of just showed up and I haven't read that far into it. All I certain of is there have been sixty six Iron Fists before me and sixty five of them died at thirty three and one, Orson Randall went missing which is as good as dead. I can't imagine it being a sickness or something like that, there has to be someone or something orchestrating the demise of Iron Fists." Danny sat down on the floor and got into a lotus position, he was stressed and tense and needed to control it in the safest place possible.
Danny took a few calming breaths and opened his eyes, "what I really need is a professional stalker to watch my every move, or at least everyone else around me. What's the cost of constant surveillance these days?" Danny knew that if nothing else his name your price attitude would certainly help him sleep better at night.