Villain? No, I'll catch up with the protagonist after passing the civil service exam.

Late the next night. South City Night Market.

Cumin powder mixed with the smoke from burning cheap charcoal was carried into people's nostrils by the cool autumn breeze.

At the street-side stall with the red signboard and yellow lettering that read "Old Liu's Authentic Lamb Skewers," the exhaust fan was whirring away.

The fan blades were covered with a thick layer of black grease. They creaked and groaned as they turned.

There were six or seven low plastic tables, red and blue, around the stall. They were almost all full of people at the moment.

It looked lively and bustling, but the atmosphere was inexplicably awkward.

At the table near the streetlight, four shirtless men were sitting around a plate of peanuts and edamame.

The fat guy at the head of the group grabbed a green beer bottle and clinked it against the one opposite him. The bottle necks made a crisp clanging sound.

"Let's get this done!" the fat man shouted at the top of his lungs.

He tilted his head back and took a swig, his Adam's apple bobbing. But while wiping his mouth, he spat most of the wine into the drain strainer at his feet.

His bloodshot eyes didn't even glance at the edamame on the table.

Through the white smoke rising from the barbecue stall, he stared intently at the activity across the street.

These tables weren't occupied by late-night diners. They were all plainclothes officers from the Special Investigations Unit.

Each of them had cold electromagnetic restraint net guns and tactical handcuffs clipped to their lower backs, and stab-proof vests were worn under their floral shirts.

Two hundred meters away.

A black van disguised as a refrigerated logistics vehicle was parked quietly under the shade of a tree.

The headlights were off in the carriage. The cold white light from several rows of instruments shone on Lu Jingyan's profile.

He was wearing a plain black tactical shirt. His arms were crossed over his chest.

He leaned back in his seat, his dark eyes fixed on the live monitoring feed on the screen.

"Huff... huff..."

Through the earphones came a series of heavy, labored breaths, like a broken bellows.

That was the sound recorded by a miniature listening device. The voice trembled noticeably.

Su Xiaoxiao sat in front of the control panel. Her fair fingers pushed the volume control panel.

She leaned closer to the microphone and lowered her voice.

"Liu Biao, can you breathe a little lighter? This bug is sewn into the collar of your apron, and it's almost deafening me."

At the night market stalls.

Liu Biao was wearing a tattered canvas apron stained with oil. His heels were planted in the mud beside the charcoal brazier.

He was startled when he heard the female voice coming from the invisible earpiece.

I almost threw the whole bunch of lamb skewers I was holding into the charcoal pile.

"Grandma... I... I can't control myself!"

Liu Biao buried his head in the fumes. His lips barely moved; the sounds were squeezed out entirely from his throat.

"My calves are cramping, and my underwear is soaked with cold sweat. If this deal falls apart, those bastards will chop me up, skewer me, and grill me."

He grabbed the dirty towel draped around his neck and frantically wiped the sweat from his forehead.

The towel was covered in dust, leaving several black marks on his fleshy face.

Lu Jingyan looked at the screen.

In the video, Liu Biao's left hand was shaking, causing the metal tongs in his hand to clang against the edge of the grill.

"Switch to your right hand to hold the clip," Lu Jingyan said into the communicator.

His voice was flat and even, without the slightest inflection. It was as if he were instructing his apprentice on how to analyze physical evidence.

"You're a mob boss back in the game now. Straighten your back."

He watched Liu Biao's actions on the monitor. "The charcoal fire is too small. Add two more pieces of charcoal. Use tongs to stir the fire."

Liu Biao swallowed hard.

He quickly switched the metal tongs to his right hand. With his left hand, he grabbed the fire tongs and poked them into the stove a couple of times.

With a loud "boom".

Sparks from the stove flew upwards with the wind, scorching a tuft of stubble on his chin.

A burnt smell wafted out. Liu Biao took a half step back, ignoring the pain.

Just then.

Four people walked over from across the street.

They were all wearing black leather jackets. Their leather shoes made a clattering sound as they stepped on the greasy floor tiles.

The one leading the group was the same crew-cut man with a scar on his left cheek from yesterday.

The man with the buzz cut was carrying a black metal briefcase.

The box looked quite heavy. The veins on the back of his hands were bulging.

At the plainclothes officers' table, the fat man crushed a peanut.

He nudged his partner with his elbow and nodded in that direction. The muscles of the plainclothes officers tensed instantly.

The man with the buzz cut swaggered to the front of the oven.

He didn't look at the people eating skewers around him. His slanted eyes were fixed on Liu Biao.

He kicked the metal rack under the oven with his leather shoes.

"Brother Biao, you're pretty busy."

Scarface grinned, exhaling a strong smell of tobacco.

The bamboo skewer in Liu Biao's hand suddenly stopped.

He frantically recited the commutation clauses of the Criminal Law three times in his mind. Only then did he forcefully pull the stiffness from his face and squeeze out a smile that was uglier than a grimace.

"Oh, Brother Jin. You've arrived."

He casually slapped the meat skewers onto the wire mesh. With a sizzle, white smoke rose from the fatty meat.

"It just caught fire. Come on, have a seat inside."

Liu Biao patted an empty plastic table next to him with a dirty towel.

The man with the buzz cut didn't sit down.

He slammed the heavy black box onto the folding table with a loud bang.

The table legs wobbled twice, almost falling apart.

"We're not sitting here. Our boss needs the money."

The crew-cut man took half a step forward, staring into Liu Biao's eyes across the meter-wide oven.

"Have you sorted out the personnel on your side, as agreed yesterday?"

Cold sweat trickled down Liu Biao's forehead, dripping into his eyes and stinging painfully.

He reached up and rubbed his eyes.

"It's all sorted out now."

He stammered for a moment. Then he quickly raised his voice, trying to sound more confident.

"I've already spoken to all the rich young men in the south of the city who drive supercars. As long as the car is top-notch, money is no object."

He poked the charcoal with the fire tongs. The flames rose a little higher.

"But brother, let me be clear from the start. I've never touched this before, so I need to check its quality first."

The crew-cut man gave a cold laugh.

"Brother Biao is a man of principle. Okay, let's broaden our horizons."

He turned around, his fingers resting on the mechanical combination lock on the briefcase.

Inside the command vehicle.

Lu Jingyan leaned forward slightly.

He stared at the screen. His gaze fell on the two hands that were manipulating the keypad.

"Attention all groups. Once the safety buckles are released, prepare for action."

He pressed his index finger against the headset. His speaking pace remained unhurried.

Inside the carriage, Zhao Tiezhu grabbed the electromagnetic restraint net gun next to him.

He pulled back the bolt, producing a crisp metallic click. He licked his back teeth, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

At the night market stalls.

"Click. Click."

Two crisp clicks followed. The metal latches on the suitcase popped open.

The man with the buzz cut pinched the edge of the box lid with two fingers and lifted it up.

The moment the box was opened.

A pungent smell of synthetic chemicals wafted out, mixed with the aroma of cumin.

It was lined with a layer of black shock-absorbing foam.

In the middle of the sponge grid, there were a dozen or so neatly stacked transparent plastic resealable bags.

Each packet contained that powder that emitted an eerie, ghostly blue glow.

Under the dim streetlights, the light looked somewhat eerie, like shards of crushed, cheap glass.

Liu Biao looked at the blue-pink figures.

My head went blank. The undigested dinner in my stomach started refluxing acid.

He shakily stretched out his right hand and took several skewers of freshly grilled, sizzling lamb.

handed over.

"Jin, Brother Jin. Have some meat first. This thing..."

His hands trembled like leaves. He couldn't hold the bamboo skewers steady, and the meat skewers swayed in mid-air.

The oil droplet hit the tip of the crew-cut man's leather shoe.

The man with the buzz cut glanced down at the oil stains on his shoes.

His brows furrowed instantly. A flash of impatient rage crossed his eyes.

"Eat my ass!"

He shoved aside the meat skewers Liu Biao offered. The bamboo skewers fell to the ground.

"The goods are here. Where's the money?" The crew-cut man lowered his voice, his right hand already reaching for the inside pocket of his jacket.

That place is bulging and full, hiding something hard.

Liu Biao was so startled that he took half a step back. His back hit the exhaust pipe of the oven, and the heat made him shudder.

Just at this time.

Lu Jingyan's voice rang out clearly in the headphones.

"Grasp."

One word: clean and efficient, without the slightest hesitation or ambiguity.

The voice just fell.

The four burly men sitting at the next table suddenly overturned the plastic table in front of them.

"Splash!"

A beer bottle and a plate of edamame from the table were smashed onto the asphalt road. Glass shards littered the ground.

"Don't move! Police!"

The fat plainclothes officer in charge shouted loudly, his voice drowning out the noise of the entire street.

He pushed off with his feet, his body shooting like a cannonball, leaping over the mess and hurtling towards the crew-cut man.

A black telescopic baton appeared in his hand without him noticing.

The man with the buzz cut was horrified.

He hadn't had time to pull his hand out of his clothes.

The fat plainclothes officer had already rushed up to them. His baton, swung with a powerful gust of wind, slammed into the back of the crew-cut man's knee.

A muffled "crack" sounded.

The crew-cut man screamed, his legs buckled, and he knelt heavily on the greasy cement floor.

My knees are sore from the impact.

The other three henchmen were just about to run away.

A dozen or so special police officers in stab-proof vests suddenly sprang out from behind several tables nearby.

They seemed to spring from the ground. Their movements were so fast that no one could react in time.

The dark muzzle of the gun was pressed directly against the foreheads of those henchmen.

"Hands behind your head! Lie down! Lie down!"

The roar was deafening.

The entire night market instantly descended into chaos. The girl selling grilled squid was so frightened that she threw down her skewer, and passersby scrambled to get out of the way.

The crew-cut man still tried to struggle.

The fat plainclothes officer stepped on his shoulder, grabbed his short hair, and slammed his face down.

"Bang!"

The crew-cut man's cheek slammed into the suitcase filled with blue powder. His nose was broken, and blood seeped onto the foam padding.

The cold, silver handcuffs were pulled out.

The clicking sound of the plastic gears meshing was particularly crisp in the noisy night market.

"Behave yourself!" The plainclothes officer tightly handcuffed the crew-cut man's hands behind his back.

Liu Biao leaned against the scorching hot oven.

His mouth hung open as he watched everything unfold in the blink of an eye. His legs gave way, and he slid down the stove and onto the muddy ground.

The apron was covered in charcoal ash that had just been rubbed off.

He swallowed hard, looking at the suited thugs pinned to the ground.

Several SWAT officers burst through the door and pinned the drug dealer down next to the charcoal-covered oven. They caught him red-handed.