Hong Kong variety show: The mastermind behind the scenes is emerging.

Seven o'clock in the morning.

Although the downpour had stopped, the alleyways of Kowloon Walled City were still flooded up to ankle-deep. The backflow of the sewers filled the air with an indescribable stench of decay, but this stench could not mask the intense, blood-pumping aura emanating from the three returning travelers—a mixture of money and gunpowder.

The tornado-themed barbershop had already put up a "Closed" sign.

The roller shutter door was pulled down halfway, leaving only a gap for the three people to squeeze through.

The innermost compartment, which was originally a secret room used by Tornado to store things that couldn't be seen in the light, had now been emptied out. The heavy iron door was closed, cutting off all outside prying eyes.

"Splash—!"

As Shinichi threw the waterproof bag from his shoulder heavily to the ground, the dull thud seemed to strike everyone's hearts. Then came the second, the third... a total of six enormous bags, piled up in the cramped room like a small mountain.

"This is... what we've gained tonight!"

Xin Yi, panting heavily, ripped off his hood. He hadn't even had time to wipe the mud off his face, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.

Lu Chen didn't say anything, but silently walked over and unzipped one of the bags.

"hiss--"

In that instant, even under the dim light, the dazzling interplay of red and gold light still made everyone present gasp for breath.

That's money.

They are Hong Kong dollars that are simply bound, haphazardly stacked, and have the distinctive smell of ink from the Hong Kong Jockey Club vault.

"Pour it out." Lu Chen's voice was a little hoarse, but it was filled with an irrepressible excitement.

The three of them worked together to dump the contents of the six bags onto the mahogany tea table in the center of the room.

The water couldn't fit on the table, so it spilled onto the floor.

A full 180 kilograms of banknotes!

The visual impact is terrifying. It is no longer a string of cold numbers on a bank account, but a real, overwhelming ocean of matter capable of drowning out reason.

Most of them are "Golden Bull" (1,000 yuan denomination), which is less common in the market, but there are also quite a few "Red Snapper" (100 yuan denomination), which are the most commonly used chips by gamblers.

Even the seasoned veteran of the martial world, the once-powerful Tornado, paused slightly in mid-air, his hand holding the cigarette twitching. A long streak of ash fell onto his Tang suit, but he remained oblivious.

"How much is this?" Chen Luojun wasn't much better off. He leaned against the wall, clutching a bottle of water tightly in his hand, his eyes somewhat glazed over. He fought in underground boxing matches at the gym, risking his life to win a single fight for a few thousand yuan. This pile of money was enough to buy hundreds of boxing gyms.

"Let's take inventory."

Lu Chen casually picked up a bundle of banknotes and weighed them in his hand. "These are all gambling winnings from the Jockey Club. Most of them are old banknotes, and there are few consecutive serial numbers. Although the denominations are different, they are easy to circulate."

Three young men, along with a Kowloon Walled City leader, began counting money in the small, dark room as if they were doing handicrafts.

This counting took a full two hours.

Most of them were pre-packaged 1,000 NTD "Golden Bull" notes, with a small portion consisting of loose 500 and 100 NTD bills.

"Three hundred and sixty catties."

Lu Chen dusted off his hands and announced the final figure, "Approximately 120 million."

A deathly silence fell over the room. "One hundred million...twenty million?!"

Xin Yi's voice changed. He looked abruptly at Lu Chen, then at the money on the ground, and felt his legs go weak.

In an era when an ordinary police officer earns a monthly salary of just over two thousand yuan and a thousand-square-foot luxury house in an ordinary area costs only a few hundred thousand yuan, what does 120 million yuan mean?

This means they could buy an entire street in the Mid-Levels! It means they could live a life of luxury for generations, even if they retired right now!

Stop spacing out.

Lu Chen kicked the pile of money on the ground, breaking the suffocating silence. "Money only becomes money when it's spent. If it's just piled up here, it's just waste paper. Come on, let's divide the spoils."

He moved swiftly, scooping out two large piles of money from the pile, each estimated to be at least ten million.

"Xin Yi, Luo Jun. This copy is for you."

Lu Chen pushed the two piles of money in front of them, his tone as calm as if he were dividing two heads of cabbage, "Ten million each. Cash. Use it to buy a house, a car, get married, or save it as your funeral money, it's up to you."

Xin Yi and Chen Luojun exchanged a glance, both seeing the shock in each other's eyes.

"Brother Lu, this...this is too much!" Xin Yi pushed the bag of money away, swallowing hard. "We agreed before that we were just helping out, and five million each was already an astronomical sum. This ten million...it's a hot potato."

Chen Luojun shook his head vigorously, saying, "Brother Lu, you saved my life and gave me my ID card. I only need enough to live on. This ten million... I won't be able to sleep if I take it."

Although both men came from humble backgrounds, they upheld the most basic code of honor among江湖 (jianghu, the martial arts world). In their view, the entire operation was planned by Lu Chen, the intelligence was gathered by Lu Chen, the guns were bought by Lu Chen, and even the decisive shot was fired by Lu Chen. They were merely acting as two porters and bodyguards, and did not deserve so much money.

Seeing the two of them decline, Lu Chen's admiration deepened.

In this world of double-crossing, those who can remain unmoved by millions of dollars and uphold their principles are the true brothers you can entrust with your life.

"Here you go, take it." Lu Chen's face darkened, feigning displeasure. "I, Lu Chen, never shortchange my brothers. Tonight's job was a life-or-death struggle. This ten million was for your lives back then, what? You think it's not enough?"

"No, no, no! It's not that it's too little!" Chen Luojun exclaimed anxiously, "It's too much!"

"Then shut up and accept it."

Lu Chen said without any room for doubt. Then, he pulled out another ten million from the pile of money and pushed it in front of Long Juanfeng.

"Brother Long, take this one."

Tornado, who had been silently smoking to the side, froze. He looked at the pile of money in front of him and frowned.

"Chenzai, this isn't fun."

Tornado stubbed out his cigarette, his tone turning serious. "I only helped you guys make a connection by buying a few shotguns; I didn't even leave the walled city. What are you kids doing with the money you risked your lives for, an old man like me? I earn a few dozen dollars a day at my barbershop, enough to eat and drink my fill. Do you want to take this money to your grave?"

"Brother Long, this money isn't just for you," Lu Chen said earnestly, looking at Long Juanfeng's weathered face, as if he had expected Long Juanfeng to refuse. "It's for Kowloon Walled City."

"Give it to the walled city?" Tornado paused for a moment.

"The electrical wiring in the walled city was severely aged, causing several fires every year; the water pipes were the same, and everyone had to queue up to fetch water from the street pipes; and there were also the elderly living alone and the children who couldn't go to school..."

Lu Chen pointed out the window, "Take this ten million and use it to repair the roads, replace the electrical wiring, build a decent clinic, and pay some tuition for those kids who can't afford to go to school. Even if it's just to do us a good deed, you have to accept this money."

These words precisely struck at the heart of the tornado.

He had no children of his own and regarded the entire Kowloon Walled City as his home and the neighbors as his family. He dreamed of improving the environment there, but unfortunately, he was powerless to do so.

He looked at Lu Chen, and his eyes actually felt a little warm.

This young man is not only resourceful and courageous, but more importantly... he is kind-hearted.

"You young man... you really know how to read people's hearts." Tornado gave a wry smile, but there was a hint of relief in his tone. "Alright, I'll accept this money on behalf of the walled city. From now on, every new lamp and every new water pipe in this walled city will have your contribution."

After a long silence, Tornado took a deep breath and nodded heavily. "Chenzi, since you say so, I'll accept this money on behalf of the neighbors. On behalf of the more than 30,000 elders and folks of the walled city, I thank you."

"I'll donate too!"

"Shin-yi suddenly shouted. He pushed half of his pile of money, about five million, into the pile with the tornado. "Brother Lu is right! I grew up in the walled city too, and I want to contribute to it! Five million is enough for me, the rest is for Brother Long!"

"Me too!"

Chen Luojun smiled憨厚ly and pushed his own five million yuan towards the project, saying, "I'm an orphan, and this city is my home. Count me in for the house repairs!"

Looking at the two passionate young men before him, Tornado smiled. His smile smoothed out all the wrinkles on his face, making him look twenty years younger.

"Alright, alright, stop arguing," Tornado waved his hand, pushing the money the two were offering back. "Ten million is more than enough for repairs to the city. You two need the money right now, so stop making a fuss. Keep the money safe; you won't need a dowry when you get married, right?"

"But……"

"Listen to Brother Long." Lu Chen made the final decision. "Brother Long doesn't need your money. As long as you mean it, that's enough. At worst, you can lend a hand when it's time for repairs."

This incident, tested by money, not only prevented the relationship between the four from cracking but also forged it into an unbreakable bond. Lu Chen's status in Xin Yi and Chen Luojun's hearts had completely risen from "partner" to "leader."

After dividing the lion's share, Lu Chen accepted the remaining ninety million without hesitation. Of course, his real "big share"—the five hundred million lying in his personal space—was his biggest spoils of the night.

However, there is still a big problem ahead.

"This money can't be made public."

Tornado looked at the pile of banknotes on the ground, clicking his tongue in exasperation: "This is the Jockey Club's money. Although it's bearer banknotes, they all have serial numbers. Spending a small amount is fine, but if a large quantity flows into the market, it will definitely attract the attention of the Organized Crime and Triad Bureau (OCTB) and the Commercial Crime Bureau. Right now, this money is a hot potato."

"It needs to be washed," Lu Chen nodded, "and it needs to be washed thoroughly."

Tornado pondered for a moment: "I do have connections. There are a few places in Sham Shui Po that specialize in 'water rooms,' handling these things for triads. But..."

He held up four fingers. "Their rules are shady. No matter how much, they take 40%. And your 100 million is too conspicuous; you can't pay it all at once. You have to pay it in batches, and it will take at least two months to digest it."

"Forty percent?" Xin Yi exclaimed in shock. "That's over forty million gone? That's outrageous!"

"There's nothing we can do, that's just how it is in the industry," Tornado said helplessly. "Money laundering is a technical job, and it's also a high-risk business. People have to take the risks too."

Lu Chen frowned slightly.

A 40% loss is indeed painful. But he has no other choice now. His "portable space" can only store money, not make it worthless. And "Jiahe Group" has only just been established. If more than 100 million yuan of unknown funds suddenly floods in, it will immediately attract the attention of regulatory authorities.

"Four out of four is achieved."

Lu Chen made a decisive decision, "Safety comes first after all. I'll leave this money to you, Brother Long, to handle. We can afford to wait two months."

But he secretly made a mental note of it.

This situation will definitely continue in the future, and there will only be more and more illicit money being made. Relying on underground banks is not only costly, but also makes one vulnerable to being controlled by others.

"It seems that establishing our own 'channels' is now urgent."

Countless classic scenes from Hong Kong movies flashed through Lu Chen's mind.

The group in "A Better Tomorrow" that possessed top-notch counterfeiting technology and a money laundering network...

The movie "From Vegas to Macau" features a massive transnational money laundering organization called "DOA"...

And then there's that "painter" in "Project Gutenberg" who has connections everywhere...

"The waters of Hong Kong Island are still deep." A glint of shrewdness flashed in Lu Chen's eyes. "It seems we need to pay more attention to talent in this area in the future. If all else fails, we'll just train one of our own DOAs."

……

Two flowers bloom, one branch each.

While Lu Chen and his group were dividing the spoils in the Walled City, the Happy Valley Jockey Club vault was shrouded in gloom, as if it were the end of the world.

The piercing sirens wailed all night long. Hundreds of police cars surrounded the Jockey Club, their red and blue flashing lights casting a bizarre glow on the floodwaters after the torrential rain.

The door to the underground vault has been opened.

When the fat, big-eared operations director of the horse racing club saw the empty vault and Lao Gao's body riddled with bullets on the ground, his eyes rolled back and he fainted.

"Seven...seven hundred million!" The director screamed like a pig being slaughtered after waking up. "A full seven hundred million in cash! How am I supposed to explain this to the board of directors! How am I supposed to explain this to the big boss?!"

Inspector Ah Hung (Bao Weixiong) of the Serious Crimes Unit stood in the center of the vault, his face as black as the bottom of a pot.

He was the on-site commander of this operation. He originally thought it was a perfect trap, that he had guessed McQueen's intentions, and even obtained the vault's password.

But he was too late.

It was only ten minutes late!

"Bao Weixiong! What the hell are you doing?!" The foreign bureau chief, who had rushed over, pointed at Bao Weixiong's nose and cursed, "Is this what you called a tight net? The thief escaped! The money is gone! And one of them is dead! How am I supposed to write a report?! Huh?!"

With a full 700 million in cash gone, if the money can't be recovered, he, as the director, will definitely be the first to go down!

Ah Xiong kept his head down, not saying a word. His fists were clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh.

He stared at Lao Gao's corpse, at the blown-open sewer opening, his mind a complete mess.

The traces at the scene were very messy.

The large amount of heptafluoropropane extinguishing agent spray destroyed almost all fingerprints and DNA. There were only messy footprints on the ground, which looked like they were left by several people in a hurry to escape, but the traces were destroyed and it was impossible to tell how many people there were or find any obvious characteristics.

"Sir," a forensic officer approached and reported in a low voice, "the crime scene investigation is complete. Preliminary assessment indicates that Lao Gao was killed at close range with a shotgun. It's likely a dispute over the loot, which led to McQueen killing him to cover it up, and then McQueen ran off with the money."

"How did those seven hundred million disappear?" Ah Xiong sneered. "Tell me, how could he, all by himself, move seven hundred million in such a short time? Does he have eight hands?"

"This..." The forensic chief was also stunned. "Perhaps there were other people with him? Like his wife, or some of Lao Gao's henchmen? After all, the evidence at the scene was too messy; besides Lao Gao and McQueen, there might be other accomplices..."

"That possibility can't be ruled out," the foreign police chief interrupted impatiently. "It's definitely a dispute over the loot! What wouldn't those ruthless thugs do? Killing their own accomplices for money is perfectly normal! The most urgent thing now is to issue arrest warrants! Arrest McQueen and his wife! Recover the money!"

The chief inspector's assessment basically represents the mainstream viewpoint within the police force.

After all, to admit that even with the police heavily surrounding the area, a "third-party force" managed to sneak in unnoticed, double-cross the police, and escape unscathed is a slap in the face to the entire police force.

Therefore, the case can only be characterized as: the McQueen gang committed the crime, killed each other due to internal strife, and fled with the money.

However, in a corner of the noisy scene, a young plainclothes policeman who looked seven parts like Ah Xiong was squatting at the blown-open sewer opening, with a strange expression.

Instead of busy collecting evidence like the others, he squatted down, extended a finger, and gently touched a bullet hole next to the white humanoid silhouette.

Those were the marks left on the wall by stray bullets when Lu Chen blasted Lao Gao to death with a shotgun.

The young policeman closed his eyes and muttered to himself, as if something was speaking to him.

His name is Chen Guibin.

Ah-Hsiung's cousin, the protagonist of the movie "Mad Detective", is also a well-known "freak" in the police force.

He didn't look at the corpse or the money bag, but closed his eyes, muttered something, and made strange gestures with his hands.

In his mind's eye, the scene was being replayed.

He "saw" Lao Gao climb up and excitedly put the money in.

He "saw" McQueen climbing up.

then……

Chen Guibin suddenly opened his eyes and stared at the dark void.

"wrong."

He muttered to himself, "There... are still people there."

He seemed to see three blurry figures emerging from the sewer like ghosts.

"It's not internal strife."

Chen Guibin stood up, walked to Ah Xiong's side, and said firmly, "Cousin, there was a third group of people there. McQueen was coerced. That seven hundred million wasn't taken by McQueen alone."

"Bin-zai, don't talk nonsense." Ah-xiong frowned and lowered his voice. "The higher-ups have already made their decision. Are you trying to make me take the blame by going against them now?"

"But that's not the truth!" Chen Guibin exclaimed, pointing to the hole. "Can't you feel it? That stench of greed doesn't belong to McQueen. It's a different kind of greed—a more insane, more ruthless greed. There's a real mastermind hiding somewhere, laughing at us all!"

"That's enough!"

Ah Xiong snarled, "Without evidence, it's all your imagination! Go back and write a report, don't embarrass yourself here!"

Chen Guibin looked at his cousin's stern eyes, then at his busy but aimless colleagues around him. The light in his eyes dimmed for a moment, but then became even more determined.

He didn't argue anymore, after all, he was just a sergeant now, with a lowly position and little influence.

He simply pulled out a notebook and drew a strange symbol on it—a trivial detail he had discovered at the scene, one that everyone else had overlooked.

"I will find you."

Chen Guibin stared at the dark sewer opening, a fire igniting within him. He stood outside the horse racing club, watching the police cars whizzing by, but he felt no dejection.

Instead, he pulled a small notebook out of his pocket and drew a question mark heavily on it.

I don't believe it.

Chen Guibin muttered to himself, his gaze piercing through the layers of rain, as if looking at three blurry figures in the distance.

"There is no perfect crime in this world. If you take the money, you will definitely spend it. And once you spend it, I can smell it."

"Ten years... even twenty years, I will find you, you little bird that has been caught."

Little did he know that his investigation would truly last for twenty years. The "third group" on that stormy night became the biggest obstacle in his career, and also the thread that led to the uncovering of a vast, global black money empire.

Now, this "Hong Kong Jockey Club bank robbery" has become one of the biggest unsolved cases in the history of the Hong Kong police force. The police's wanted posters are covered with photos of McQueen and his wife and Lao Gao's remaining gang, vowing to recover the missing 1 billion (poor McQueen, not only took the blame for Lu Chen's 600 million, but also took the extra 300 million bad debt for the Jockey Club).

As for the real "mastermind" behind this unsolved case, he is currently sitting in a warm barbershop in Kowloon Walled City, drinking hot tea and plotting how to use this windfall to build a vast business empire.