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

1981, winter.

Lu Chen sat in the large leather boss's chair, toying with a gold coin that had just been brought back from Italy and had been laundered.

"Boss, things are going even better than we expected."

Fourth Brother (Rum) stood in front of the desk, his face filled with undisguised admiration, "Miss Ruan Wen... oh no, Vermouth, she gave us a big surprise."

"Oh?" Lu Chen raised an eyebrow. "She got that gravure printing press sorted out?"

"It's all sorted out, and it was quite an unexpected turn of events."

Fourth Brother handed Lu Chen a encrypted intelligence report. "Do you remember the 'Gold War' you had Ah Sheng and the others create in North Africa? The rumors about those 240 tons of gold turned the entire North Africa into chaos. Warlords were fighting each other, and mercenaries were rampant."

"Chaos is a ladder." Lu Chen smiled.

"That's right, wars cost money and require arms purchases. One of the small warlords who occupied the Algerian border urgently needed cash to buy guns and cannons, so he sold a batch of 'scrap metal.' Among that batch of 'scrap metal' was an intaglio printing press that was originally a European aid project to the local government, intended for printing official currency and stamps. Because of the war, the machine was still in its original packaging and brand new."

Lu Chen chuckled to himself upon hearing this.

This is called the butterfly effect.

The chaos he created in the Sahara Desert to cover up his share of gold not only swindled countless greedy treasure hunters, but also indirectly helped Nguyen Van obtain the most crucial money-printing equipment.

That unfortunate warlord probably never dreamed that he would sell a money-making machine worth billions of dollars for a few truckloads of AK-47s.

"Vermouth is a ruthless person too."

Fourth Brother continued, "She personally led a team to North Africa, and amidst a group of warlords who were bloodthirsty, she traded two truckloads of weapons for the machinery. It was then shipped by sea and just arrived at Lamma Island last night."

"As expected of the woman I chose." Lu Chen put down the intelligence report. "Now that the machine has arrived, what about the rest?"

"Everything is ready. That artist named Li Wen is simply a genius. Working with Wu Xin, he perfectly replicated the printing plate for the new US dollar bill in just one week, and it's currently in trial production!"

……

at the same time

Lamma Island, a hidden factory.

Inside the enormous factory, the newly arrived gravure printing press resembled a steel behemoth, emitting rhythmic "click-clack" sounds as it was operated by several technicians.

Ruan Wen was wearing a white lab coat stained with a little ink, his hair was casually tied back, and he was wearing goggles, staring intently at the paper output slot.

Beside her stood a seemingly timid but fervent-eyed young man—Li Wen, and a seasoned veteran—Wu Xin, who was adjusting the machine.

As the machine roared, stacks of US dollars were cut into pieces. Ruan Wen, ignoring the remaining warmth, picked up a bill. The moment his fingertips touched it, he felt the unique textured surface.

She picked up a magnifying glass and examined it carefully under the light.

Franklin's eyes are deep and vivid, capturing the essence of the character Li Wen imitated, and also showcasing the pinnacle of Wu Xin's craftsmanship.

Moiré patterns? They don't exist. Li Wen's genius lies in his ability to hand-draw complex lines with 100% accuracy.

Security threads, watermarks, color-changing ink… Lu Chen had already obtained these through the plot. Under the ultraviolet light, every anti-counterfeiting detail was outrageously perfect. Even the unique crisp sound of the paper was exactly the same as that of real banknotes.

"Perfect!" Ruan Wen gave it the highest praise. "If this thing were thrown on the ground on Wall Street, even the chairman of the Federal Reserve would bend down to pick it up."

"Hooray!" The subordinates cheered upon hearing this, celebrating the birth of the super dollar.

……

Kowloon, DOA headquarters.

The night outside the window was deep, and the neon lights of Victoria Harbour were reflected on the sea, shimmering in the sunlight.

Lu Chen sat on the sofa, holding the "sample banknote" that had just been delivered from Lamma Island in his hand.

"artwork."

Lu Chen sincerely exclaimed, "Vermouth truly gave me a perfect score."

"Boss, when do we start mass production?"

Fourth Brother (Rum) stood aside, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "At the current rate, if all that batch of acid-free paper and color-changing ink is printed, that's billions of US dollars in cash. With that money, shorting Japan will be a piece of cake."

"No rush."

Lu Chen put down the banknotes, his eyes becoming deep and playful. "Notify Vermouth to immediately produce the first batch of goods, but..."

Lu Chen paused for a moment, then made a request that shocked Fourth Brother: "Have her lower the level of craftsmanship."

"Lower...lower it a bit?"

Fourth Brother thought he had misheard. "Boss, we went through all this trouble—finding the machines, the ink, the artists—just to strive for perfection, right? Why would we deliberately do a poor job?"

"Because this batch of goods isn't for spending, it's for 'fishing'." A cunning glint flashed in Lu Chen's eyes, but he didn't explain his plan to his fourth brother.

Although Fourth Brother didn't quite understand, he knew that his young boss was incredibly intelligent, and sometimes he just needed to obediently follow orders.

"Okay, I'll go and inform Miss Ruan right away."

"Also, send an urgent telegram to Milan, telling Hao and Mark to come back. This first batch of flawed 'super dollars' is the weapon of revenge I've prepared for them."

……

One day later.

Kai Tak Airport.

A Boeing 747 from Milan landed slowly.

Two men wearing trench coats and sunglasses walked out of the arrival gate, blending into the crowd.

The man walking in front had slightly graying temples, but his steps were steady, and he exuded a calmness that came from washing away the superficiality of life.

The man walking behind had a toothpick in his mouth. Although his limping leg made him walk with a slight limp, he still walked with an arrogant and domineering air. His unruly temperament could be smelled from a distance.

"call--"

Ma took off his sunglasses, took a deep breath of the air thick with car exhaust and the smell of the sea, and exclaimed, "Hong Kong's air is so much better! The pineapple pizzas in Italy are making my mouth feel so bland!"

"Alright, stop complaining."

Song Zihao smiled and patted his brother on the shoulder. "Ah Chen urgently summoned us back, there must be something important. Let's go, don't keep the boss waiting."

A black Mercedes was already waiting by the roadside.

Half an hour later, at DOA headquarters in Yau Tsim Mong.

"Boss!"

As soon as he entered, Little Ma excitedly gave Lu Chen a bear hug. "Haha! It's finally time! How are we going to deal with those two bastards this time? My gun's been gleaming for ages!"

"Sit down," Lu Chen said with a smile, pouring them both a cup of tea. "We'll definitely have to kill them, but we'll do it in a more sophisticated way."

"What would constitute a more advanced method? Does it involve using rockets?"

"Little Ma! Let the boss finish speaking first."

Compared to Little Ma's fiery temper, Song Zihao was much more composed. He knew that Mr. Yao's international counterfeit currency group was incredibly powerful, with connections in both the legitimate and underworld circles. It was inconvenient for Lu Chen's Golden Harvest Group to intervene, and even if the winery and DOA were to intervene, the best outcome would be a lose-lose situation.

But he also knew that since Lu Chen had brought it up, he must already have a solution.

Lu Chen took out a stack of newly printed, slightly flawed "Super Dollars" from the drawer and threw them on the coffee table.

"Take a look at this."

Song Zihao was an expert; he had spent his entire life counterfeiting. He picked up the stack of money, touched it just once, and his expression changed.

"This feel..."

He picked up another one and examined it against the light, his expression growing increasingly serious before finally turning to shock. "This...this is fake?"

"It's fake." Lu Chen calmly took a sip of tea.

Holy crap!

Little Ma leaned over for a look, his eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. "This is fucking fake? Then what are those things Tan Cheng has in his hands? Ghost money?"

"Mark, look here."

Lu Chen pointed to a line of microtext on the banknote, "Isn't the small print on Franklin's collar a bit blurry? And the security thread is also a bit flawed; I had it left there on purpose."

"Even so, it's still much better than what's on the market. After all, no one has been able to make counterfeit versions of the new US dollar bills yet..." Song Zihao was taken aback, then realized, "Could it be that you, boss, are thinking of—"

"Yes, let's use this batch of defective products as bait!" Lu Chen nodded.

"Brother Hao, do you remember what I promised you back in Stanley Prison?"

Lu Chen looked into Song Zihao's eyes, his tone becoming serious.

Song Zihao's hand trembled slightly. How could he forget?

Back then, Tan Cheng betrayed him, causing him to go to jail in Taiwan; he also crippled Xiao Ma's leg, forcing them to eke out a living in the underworld like dogs. This hatred is etched into his very bones.

"You said you would help me get back what I lost," Song Zihao said in a deep voice.

"That's right."

Lu Chen stood up, walked to the wall, pulled back the curtain, revealing a whiteboard behind it.

Two photos were pasted on the whiteboard. One was of Mr. Yao, who looked peaceful and wore reading glasses; the other was of Tan Cheng, who looked arrogant and had his hair slicked back.

"Now that we have the weapons and the men," Lu Chen pointed to the US dollars on the table, "we can begin my plan."

"First, Brother Hao, you need to compile a list of clients of international counterfeit currency groups and their latest contact information. You were in charge of the sales network back then, so this shouldn't be a problem for you."

"Well, boss, this might actually be a bit troublesome," Song Zihao said with a troubled expression. "It's been three years since I went to prison. As you know, customers who buy counterfeit money generally don't live long... Of the customers I had back then, some are dead, some have been arrested, and I'm afraid I can't contact more than one in ten of them."

"It's okay, as long as I can contact a few people, that's fine," Lu Chen waved his hand, indicating that he didn't care. "I don't need a complete roster to compete for business. I just need a few greedy and influential people. As long as one or two of them are still alive and still in this line of work, that's enough."

"That makes things much easier." Song Zihao breathed a sigh of relief, a sharp glint in his eyes. "I'll filter out the most greedy ones."

"very good."

Lu Chen picked up a red pen and drew a large X on the two photos, a mysterious and cold smile playing on his lips:

"Next, you need to help me pick out the biggest fish from among them. I'm going to use this specially made bait to drag them, boat and all, into hell."