Hong Kong film: The cop backs down, the ladies beg me to check his license.

Looking at the twenty million in the bag, Liang Kun finally broke into a smile. All his previous frustration vanished, replaced by pure joy: "We're brothers for life! Ah Tian, ​​thank you!"

Ye Tian rolled his eyes: "Talking about this between brothers is too cheesy."

Handsome Kun laughed heartily, in high spirits. He grabbed the bottle, filled his glass, and downed it in one gulp: "That's right! Between brothers, there's no need to be polite!"

Lin Fu happily started drinking as well.

Ye Tian raised his hand to look at his watch; the hour and minute hands were aligned at twelve o'clock. Almost simultaneously, the familiar, cold notification sound in his mind rang precisely on time:

[Ding—Midnight has arrived, daily information refresh.]

[Criminal (Bronze): Brother Shan is actively contacting lawyers to prepare for the bail of the three arrested Vietnamese brothers.]

[Criminal (Bronze): Wu Zhaonan wants to make a name for himself in Tsim Sha Tsui and urgently needs the support of triad bosses. He is currently lobbying and giving gifts everywhere.]

[Criminal (Bronze): The Big Circle Gang has recently hidden several shipments of weapons on a beach and plans to rob a jewelry store in Tsim Sha Tsui.]

The three bronze-level messages were fragmented, but a faint smile still appeared on Ye Tian's lips. Over time, these fragments had become his advantage. This system was key to his success.

The three continued drinking and chatting. Liang Kun was in high spirits, drinking one glass after another, his face flushed. Lin Fu also relaxed, and the atmosphere became harmonious.

Liang Kun had drunk a bit too much, his eyes glazed as he stared at the banknotes before him, then at Ye Tian beside him, his heart overflowing with gratitude. Although Ba Bi's death had been unexpected, getting back the twenty million and completely escaping the risk of being implicated was truly a blessing in disguise. He knew it was all Ye Tian's arrangement.

He raised his glass, looked at Ye Tian, ​​and said with unusual seriousness, "Tian, ​​this glass is for you. Thank you for always helping and supporting me. Having a brother like you is a blessing I've accumulated over many lifetimes."

Ye Tian also picked up his glass, clinked it with his, and downed it in one gulp: "We're brothers, it's only right."

Liang Kun put down his cup, took a deep breath, and asked with a complicated expression, "Ah Tian, ​​did you... already know that Chan Ho-nam would kill Ba Bi, so you sent Siu Fu a step later?"

Ye Tian looked up at him, his eyes calm, neither admitting nor denying: "I just received news that Mr. Jiang summoned Sai B to Victoria Peak, it seems there are some arrangements. As for Chan Ho-nam's involvement, I only just found out."

A knowing glint flashed in Liang Kun's eyes. He didn't press further. He trusted Ye Tian wouldn't harm him.

He stood up, picked up the travel bag containing the money, and said with a mixture of weariness and satisfaction, "Ah Tian, ​​Xiao Fu, I'm leaving now. I need to take care of this money."

Ye Tian nodded: "Okay, be careful on the road. Let Xiao Fu take you home."

Lin Fu immediately stood up: "Brother Kun, let me see you off."

Liang Kun didn't refuse; he knew carrying so much cash wasn't safe. He glanced at Ye Tian, ​​his expression complex, but ultimately said nothing, turning and walking towards the door. Reaching the door, he paused, as if wanting to turn back and say something, but finally pushed the door open and went out.

Ye Tian watched his figure disappear through the door, the meaningful smile on his lips deepening. Some things are better left unsaid.

He picked up his glass, took a sip, his eyes unfathomable. Brother Shan wanted to bail out the Vietnamese, Wu Zhaonan wanted to rise to power, the Big Circle Gang wanted to rob a gold shop… Information was opportunity. The sea of ​​Hong Kong was never short of storms, nor was it short of opportunities to ride the waves. And he always seemed to see the direction of the approaching waves earlier than others.

……

In the dead of night on the streets of Mong Kok, the streetlights cast a damp, yellowish glow, as if pierced by a layer of oiled paper, casting long, thin shadows that clung to the wet ground. Lin Fu walked along, stepping firmly on his shadow, his steps carrying a unique heaviness of the night. It was nearly two in the morning; the fires at the street food stalls had all gone out, leaving only a few vendors silently packing up their belongings. The clanging of metal buckets sounded particularly cold and desolate in the empty street. His face was oily from staying up all night, and his eyelids were heavy, but a sense of smugness shone through his eyes—the matter was settled, Brother Kun had been sent back, and a weight had been lifted from his heart.

He pushed open the door to Ye Tian's apartment with very light movements; the hinges made a soft creak, which was particularly clear in the silence. "Brother Tian," he said in a low voice, his throat a little dry, "Brother Kun is settled in. I watched him lie down, tucked him in tightly, and only left when he was sound asleep. I kept a close eye on him the whole way, making sure he left no loose ends."

Ye Tian was slumped on the sofa, a cigarette between his fingers, a long ash clinging to it, threatening to fall. Hearing the sound, he slightly raised his eyelids, his expression expressionless, and simply asked, "That house, you've seen it?"

"I checked." Lin Fu nodded quickly, his expression turning cautious. "It's empty inside, just a few broken tables and chairs, a wooden bed, nothing else." As he spoke, he pulled a square package wrapped in old newspapers from his pocket, its edges neatly pinched, and gently placed it on the glass coffee table with a dull thud. "As you instructed, I searched every nook and cranny. Under the bed, there was thirty thousand yuan, all there."

Ye Tian had specifically instructed Lin Fu on this matter, so he didn't dare to be careless at all. He squatted down and reached his hand out little by little from the gap between the bed board and the crossbeam.

"Where's the gun?" Ye Tian flicked his cigarette ash, his gaze falling on the black handbag at Lin Fu's feet. The bag was made of cheap artificial leather, the edges worn white and frayed, the zipper pull rusted, and it didn't seem to match what might be inside at all.

Lin Fu crouched down and unzipped the bag. His movements were swift, yet he handled each item with a steady grip. First came five large black Star rifles, their bodies dark and dull, offering little reflection. Holding them, he felt a unique metallic chill that seeped into his bones. Next were AKs, their stocks bearing several dark wear marks, as if they were frequently rubbed against something, while the barrels were polished to a shine. Then came several long-handled grenades, their outer shells slippery, fuse coils wrapped around them, and their weight quite substantial. Finally, there were ammunition boxes wrapped in oiled paper, the paper translucent from being soaked in butter, revealing the round outlines of the bullets inside, and a greasy, oily smell wafted out.

Lin Fu lined up the items on the coffee table, straightened up, and slowly frowned. "Brother Tian," he said, his tone puzzled, "this style... doesn't seem like what locals do."

He had been in Hong Kong for quite some time and had seen and handled many guns. But the ones in front of him, in terms of style and configuration, exuded a strange ruthlessness, quite different from those commonly used by local triads. They had an indescribable, more direct and crude flavor.

Ye Tian took a drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled, not hiding anything from him: "From the Big Circle Gang."

"The informant gave us information that they had a hiding place for their stuff, in that room."

Lin Fu's brows furrowed even deeper, his fingers unconsciously tracing the shaft of a large black Star gun, the icy touch making his fingertips pause. "Those guys... they're not easy to deal with." His voice lowered, "None of them are locals, they have no ties after the connection is severed, and they don't hold back when they attack."

Those involved in shady dealings often value their "local reputation," and acting too ruthlessly can be unsightly for their neighbors. But the Big Circle Gang is different; they are rootless drifters, driven only by ruthlessness and speed, with no scruples whatsoever. This is entirely different from migrant workers who leave their hometowns to cautiously make a living—the latter restrain their temper for survival, while the former unleash their inherent daring and recklessness.