Hong Kong variety show: From being bitten by a cockroach to becoming a legend

Chapter 161 The Great Provocation

Three hundred million in cash displayed as bait at the triad headquarters? This is practically a declaration of war against all the notorious gangsters in Hong Kong! No, it's more like a targeted slap in the face to that mysterious group of robbers!

"Mr. Song—Mr. Song, are you—seriously?" Huang Jieyi tried her best to keep her voice steady. "This is too dangerous! And what about the police—"

Song Zhaowen interrupted her, his tone full of disdain: "If the police were reliable, I wouldn't have lost my money. I, Song Zhaowen, don't need to curry favor with the police. Ms. Huang, you just need to answer me: does your Taiwan Island TV station dare to take this exclusive? Do you want to be the first media outlet to report it?"

Dare or not? Countless thoughts flashed through Huang Jieyi's mind in an instant.

What's there to be afraid of? This is a golden opportunity!

Exclusive live broadcast of a powerful figure in the underworld publicly challenging a mysterious robber, with 300 million in cash as the wager—this is absolutely explosive news that will shake Hong Kong and even reach the international stage. If handled properly, her position at the television station will be unshakeable!

"Mr. Song, this exclusive—we'll take it!" Huang Jieyi made up her mind, her voice regaining its usual decisiveness. "What are your requirements regarding the time, location, and schedule? Do we need to arrange camera positions in advance?"

"3 PM, at the entrance of the Cheng Hing General Hall in Tsz Wan Shan. You can arrive two hours early to prepare." Song Zhaowen paused, then added, "By the way, when you report this, remember to relay this sentence verbatim—I said those guys who robbed the armored truck were cowardly cowards, only fit to fire shots from the mountain. If they really came to my territory, Song Zhaowen, they'd be scared to death! If they have the guts, come and take this 300 million, let me see if they're just blind cats and cowards."

These words were extremely harsh, and their provocation was so strong it was almost palpable. Huang Jieyi could imagine how furious those arrogant and flamboyant robbers would be upon hearing such remarks.

"I understand, Mr. Song. Tomorrow at 3 PM, live broadcast on Taiwan Island TV." Huang Jieyi solemnly promised.

After hanging up the phone, Song Zhaowen wore a confident smile.

The tactic of provocation is the simplest and often the most effective. Especially for a rebellious young master like Ah Zu, who comes from a privileged background, is extremely arrogant, and craves excitement and recognition, open contempt and provocation are more unbearable than police pursuit.

"Tony!" Song Zhaowen pressed the intercom button.

"Boss!" Tony appeared at the door shortly after.

"Pass down the word: tomorrow afternoon, the main hall will hold an incense offering ceremony. All brothers above the rank of Red Pole who can attend should be present. Also, send two hundred of the most capable fighters and best marksmen to be stationed inside and outside the main hall starting tomorrow, with three layers of sentries, both overt and covert. As for the vault—go to HSBC and Standard Chartered, count out three hundred million in cash, and display it in the most conspicuous place in the lobby on the first floor, so that everyone attending the press conference can see and remember it. It must be real cash; make it a complete charade."

Tony's eyelids twitched: "Boss, three hundred million in cash on display? This—this is too ostentatious! What if some fool doesn't know what's good for them—"

"What I want is to make a scene." Song Zhaowen's eyes flashed coldly. "If I don't make a scene, how will I lure the snake out of its hole? Do as I say."

The next afternoon, at the Tsz Wan Shan Ching Hing General Hall.

The usually somber entrance to the triad headquarters was now unusually filled with cameras and microphones. Several media outlets arrived, but were politely but firmly kept outside the designated area by the Zhengxing Society members. Only the Taiwan Island Television team, led by Huang Jieyi, was allowed to set up their cameras at the closest possible distance.

The main hall doors opened, revealing a spacious lobby. Most striking was the dozens of open silver alloy boxes piled in the center, densely packed with neatly bound thousand-yuan bills! They gleamed alluringly yet dangerously under the lights. The visual impact of three hundred million yuan in cash piled together caused all the reporters watching through their cameras to gasp in shock.

At 3:00 PM sharp, Song Zhaowen began his "performance" in front of Huang Jieyi's camera.

"Thank you to all the media friends for coming today." Song Zhaowen had a faint smile on his face, but his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's. "I, Song Zhaowen, am here today for no other reason than to say a few words to some people."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the camera lens, as if he could see through the screen to the person he wanted to see.

"Hong Kong's been rather turbulent lately. Some cowardly scoundrels have pulled some strings, made a little money, and think they're all that, that they can act with impunity." Song Zhaowen's tone was laced with undisguised sarcasm. "One hundred million? Is that a lot? In my eyes, it's nothing!"

He turned to the side and pointed to the mountain of cash piled up in the hall behind him: "See this? Here, three hundred million Hong Kong dollars in cash. I, Song Zhaowen, have left it here."

The camera immediately zoomed in, giving the pile of cash a long close-up. Countless viewers in front of their televisions watched with their hearts pounding and mouths dry.

"I heard those guys who robbed the armored truck were well-equipped and very professional?" Song Zhaowen scoffed. "Professional? They didn't even dare show their faces, only daring to ambush people on the mountain roads. You call that professional? I think they're just cowards! They're cowards!"

"Today, I, Song Zhaowen, am putting my words here! Whether it's those guys who robbed the armored truck before, or any other arrogant Tom, Dick, or Harry, as long as you have the guts, the ability, and the fearlessness to die, come find me, come to my territory, Song Zhaowen, and take this 300 million in front of me and my thousands of brothers! If you can take it, I, Song Zhaowen, will admit defeat and admire you as a man. If you can't take it—"

Song Zhaowen's eyes instantly turned icy cold, radiating murderous intent: "Then leave your lives behind! My Zhengxing Society brothers are just short of a few to sacrifice as a flag-bearer!"

A hush fell over the scene, broken only by the faint noise of cameras and the suppressed breathing of reporters. This blatant provocation and demonstration was practically a declaration of war against all criminal elements in Hong Kong!

Huang Jieyi promptly handed over the microphone: "Mr. Song, have you considered your own safety before doing this?"

Song Zhaowen glanced at her and said frankly, "Safe? I, Song Zhaowen, have made it this far in the martial arts world by relying on my own two hard fists."

The interview ended in an explosive atmosphere.

Taiwan's television station almost simultaneously edited and broadcast the footage with a sensational headline: "Gangster tycoon Song Zhaowen throws 300 million in cash to provoke robbers: Come and take it if you dare!"

The news was like a bomb, instantly igniting the entire city of Hong Kong.

In the streets and alleys, in teahouses and taverns, everyone was talking about this unprecedented public provocation. The underworld was shaken, the legitimate world was watching with bated breath, and ordinary citizens, with a "the more the merrier" mentality, excitedly awaited what would happen next.

Inside that hidden, high-tech secure house in Kowloon Tong.

On the huge curved screen, news footage from Taiwan's television station was playing. Song Zhaowen's arrogant face, the mountain of cash, and his harsh words like "coward" and "lackey" echoed like the most vicious mockery in the empty room.

"Bang!" A powerful punch slammed into the control panel, denting the alloy surface.

"Fuck Song Zhaowen, that bastard, who does he think he is?! How dare he talk like that!"

Liang Mais pushed up his glasses, his eyes turning cold: "He's trying to provoke us; his methods are clumsy."

Ah Tian licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with excitement and danger: "Three hundred million in cash—piled up in the gang's headquarters—"

"Damn, this is a hundred times more exciting than robbing an armored truck! Brother Zu, are you in? If this works, we'll be famous worldwide! All of Hong Kong, no, the whole world will know that we dare to raid even a triad's headquarters!"

Azu slowly turned around.

His face was expressionless, but his eyes burned with a cold and frenzied flame.

Song Zhaowen's words on TV were like poisonous thorns, precisely piercing the most sensitive, proud, and rebellious part of his heart.

"Coward? Cowardly rat?" Ah Zu repeated the two words in a low voice, a twisted and crazy smile slowly spreading across his lips. "Very good—Song Zhaowen, you have successfully angered me."

He walked to the central sand table, which had been replaced with a detailed topographical map of Tsz Wan Shan and the surrounding area of ​​the Ching Hing Cathedral.

"If he wants to play, we'll play big with him. What's so special about robbing a police-protected armored truck? We'll take down a triad headquarters, seize their money, and then trample them underfoot in front of all of Hong Kong—"

Ah Zu raised his head, his gaze sweeping over his eager companions: "This time, we're going to show everyone that in this city, there's no place we dare not go, no one we dare not mess with! The police won't do, and the underworld certainly won't!"

Let's turn our attention back to the West Kowloon Police Station.

"FUCK!" In the chief's office, an enraged Richard threw a coffee cup at the television.

"That madman! That damned, arrogant thug!" Richard paced back and forth in his office like an enraged lion, his expensive suit collar ripped open in frustration. "Who does he think he is? God? Laying out three hundred million in cash as a target? Does he think Hong Kong isn't chaotic enough, or that we West Kowloon police are just for show?! Is there any way to stop him?"

The other subordinates in the office didn't dare to breathe loudly.

It's that troublemaker Song Zhaowen again!

Originally, Richard was not implicated in the incident involving Deng Weitao and his gang of corrupt police officers some time ago. Although the matter could not be made public and was handled internally, he was severely reprimanded by the commissioner for failing to manage his subordinates properly. Many people in the police system found this quite laughable.

I had hoped to have a few days of peace and quiet.

But who would have thought that Song Zhaowen could be so cunning?

Three hundred million to provoke armed robbers.

His deputy, a senior Chinese superintendent, cautiously spoke up: "Sir, although Song Zhaowen's actions are reckless, legally speaking, he hasn't broken the law. He's merely displaying his property; we have no reason to take coercive measures. Moreover, the location he chose is the Cheng Hing General Church in Tsz Wan Shan, which is his private property. Without a search warrant, even approaching it would be very sensitive."

Richard whirled around, his blue eyes bloodshot. "What are you talking about? When those lawless robbers actually go and cause a bloodbath, what will the media write? 'Police sit idly by and watch gangsters and robbers clash, another HK$300 million heist'? Or 'West Kowloon Police Station is incompetent, allowing crime to escalate'? Do I even deserve to be the commissioner?!"