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

Kowloon, Black Reef Bay.

There are no soft, fine sandy beaches here, only jagged black reefs, stretching out into the sea in bizarre shapes, like ghostly hands reaching out from hell. Due to the turbulent undercurrents and lack of development potential, you won't see a soul here on ordinary days; only the roar of the waves crashing against the reefs sounds like the howl of a wild beast.

It is precisely this deathly silence and treacherous terrain that makes Black Lagoon a natural haven for smugglers, human traffickers, and outlaws.

10 PM.

Two unlicensed SUVs bumped and rolled across the gravel beach, stopping in front of an abandoned shack belonging to the village keeper.

The car doors opened, and several burly, fierce-looking bodyguards stepped out first, cautiously scanning their surroundings. Only after confirming it was safe did the rear door of the middle car slowly open.

A foot wearing a handmade, custom-made leather shoe stepped onto the muddy ground.

Mr. Hung wrapped his black cashmere coat tighter around himself, leaned on his walking stick—a symbol of his status—and covered his mouth with a clean white handkerchief, letting out a suppressed yet heart-wrenching cough.

"Cough cough cough..."

The sea breeze was too cold, a torment for his already failing heart.

But a rare, sickly flush appeared on his pale face. It was excitement, a desire for the enormous wealth and power that was about to be his.

The bodyguards behind him carried two heavy metal briefcases containing ten million US dollars in cash.

"Sir, there's no one inside," the bodyguard captain reported after inspecting the shed.

"As expected."

Hong Wengang pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, his voice weak yet chilling, "Go inside and wait."

Stepping into the shed, a musty and dusty smell hit you.

Hong Wengang covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief in disgust and sat down on a worn-out wooden chair that his bodyguard had wiped clean. He looked at the pitch-black night outside the window, but his mood was surprisingly good.

Once he gets his hands on this "super dollar," his profit margin will double, and when settling accounts with Southeast Asian gangs, he can further reduce the ratio of genuine to counterfeit organs. This means he can obtain more fresh organs at a lower cost.

"Using waste paper to save lives, that's the most profitable business in the world."

Little did he know that in the darkness beyond his sight, a huge net had already been cast.

……

In the bushes 300 meters away from the shed.

"Attention all units, the target has entered Zone 1."

Ya Zi lay prone on the damp, cold grass, her eyes glued to the dimly lit shed through her night-vision goggles. She lowered her voice and spoke into the microphone, "Everyone be silent. Wait for the trading partner to appear."

Beside her, Song Zijie's palms were sweaty as he held the police gun.

"Relax, Ah-Jie," Ya-Zi gestured for him not to be too tense. "According to our intelligence, the person he's dealing with tonight is from an international counterfeit money ring. We need to wait for the 'seller' to appear and then wipe them all out."

Song Zijie took a deep breath and nodded.

Lu Chen's intelligence indicated that Hong Wengang would be making a transaction with the counterfeit money group here tonight. In order to play the long game and catch the big fish, the police chose to hold back for now.

At the same time, inside the shed, the private encrypted mobile phone on the table suddenly rang.

On this night filled only with the sound of waves, the ringing of the bell seemed particularly jarring.

The bodyguards tensed instantly, their hands gripping their gun handles. Hong Wengang waved his hand, signaling them to relax, and then slowly answered the phone.

Good evening, Mr. Hong.

On the other end of the phone, it was still that elegant and mysterious "painter": "It seems you are a punctual person, I am very satisfied."

"Mr. Painter, I've arrived." Hong Wengang's tone was somewhat displeased. "But I haven't even seen a trace of you. Is this your way of treating guests?"

"Don't rush."

Ruan Wen chuckled lightly, "For safety's sake, we need to change the rules."

"What do you mean?" Hong Wengang frowned.

"See that corner on your left where they pile up fishing nets?"

Nguyen Van instructed, "There's a loose floorboard over there, lift it up."

Hong Wengang gave a signal. A bodyguard immediately stepped forward and used a dagger to pry open the moldy wooden board.

Below is a hidden compartment.

In the hidden compartment, two black suitcases lay quietly.

"Open it," Hong Wengang ordered.

"Click".

The box was opened.

Instantly, that alluring dark green caught everyone's eye.

Two whole boxes, neatly stacked with hundred-dollar bills! Under the dim kerosene lamp, they gleamed with the unique, alluring luster of money.

"Here are goods worth twenty million."

Ruan Wen's voice rang out at the opportune moment, "You can inspect the goods first. If you are satisfied, take your cash and go to the fishing village pier three kilometers to the east. We will conduct the final transaction there."

Hong Wengang's eyes were firmly drawn to the "paintings" in the box. He no longer cared about the dust and rushed over, grabbing a wad of banknotes with trembling hands.

The feel, the sound, the color-changing ink... apart from that tiny, insignificant flaw, this is a real banknote!

"A perfect work of art..."

Hong Wengang muttered to himself, his greed instantly overwhelming his reason.

"Have you inspected the goods?" Ruan Wen asked.

"It's been tested! Excellent!" Hong Wengang's voice trembled.

"Very good. Now, take these twenty million, along with your cash, and head to Baisha Village next door."

Nguyen Van gave the order: "The real deal takes place there. I don't like staying in one place for too long, lest I be ambushed or followed. You know, things are tense lately."

"As expected of a painter, he is indeed very cautious."

Hong Wengang stood up and waved his hand dismissively, "Take the money! Let's go!"

……

In the bushes.

"Madam! The target has been identified!"

Song Zijie hurriedly reported to his superior, "They're carrying canvas bags! It looks like they've received the goods!"

Through the binoculars, Ya Zi could clearly see the things that Hong Wengang and the others were carrying out of the shed.

Something's not right...

The boy frowned.

The transaction is complete? But the seller didn't even show up! Could the seller have been hiding inside the house the whole time? Impossible, they already checked the place; there was no one inside.

"Madam, they're running away!"

Seeing Hong Wengang and his men quickly get into the car, the commander of the mobile unit, assuming they were about to leave, grew anxious. "Should we arrest them or not? If we don't, it'll be too late!"

The boy was caught in a dilemma.

The situation is awkward. Hong Wengang clearly has counterfeit money, and arresting him would mean catching him red-handed. But her goal is to dismantle the counterfeit money ring behind it all, and if she arrests him now, the "big fish" lurking in the shadows will definitely escape.

Arrest them? Or release them?

At this critical moment.

"Ring ring—"

The red secure phone in the boy's hand vibrated.

The caller ID only has one code: Hao.

"Feed?" the boy answered immediately.

"Madam, the plans have changed."

On the other end of the phone, Song Zihao's voice was urgent and low, "I just received a tip that the counterfeit money syndicate's informants discovered your ambush! They sensed something was amiss and have already withdrawn!"

"What?!" the boy exclaimed in surprise.

"But the goods have already been given to Hong Wengang," Song Zihao continued. "That was a batch of goods they gave him to appease Hong Wengang. Now the seller has run away, and if we wait any longer, Hong Wengang will run away too!"

"Damn it!"

The boy gritted his teeth. Although it was a pity that he hadn't caught the seller, he absolutely couldn't let Hong Wengang, this big fish, get away with it!

"Attention all units!"

The young man tossed aside the phone, drew his service pistol, and his eyes sharpened. "Target attempting to escape! Apprehend him immediately! Open fire if he resists arrest!"

"action!"

……

at the same time.

Hong Wengang had just gotten into his SUV, preparing to head to the "next trading point," when his mobile phone rang again.

"Feed? Mr. Painter, I'm out now, I'll be there soon..."

"Mr. Hong Wengang, I regret to inform you," Ruan Wen's voice suddenly turned cold, and he spoke very quickly, "the transaction is cancelled."

"What?" Hong Wengang was stunned, his heart suddenly clenched.

"Look out your window, someone's following you." Ruan Wen's voice carried a hint of pity and a touch of schadenfreude. "Looks like you're not very popular."

"A tail? A policeman?!"

Hong Wengang's expression changed drastically. He subconsciously looked back at the pitch-black surroundings. "Impossible! My whereabouts are absolutely confidential!"

"Keep it a secret?"

Hong Wengang's face turned deathly pale instantly. His already fragile heart convulsed violently, as if gripped tightly by an invisible iron hand. Cold sweat instantly covered his forehead.

How could it have been leaked?

This trip to Hong Kong Island was a completely impromptu decision, and the itinerary was kept absolutely secret. Apart from a few "old friends" with whom I have a life-or-death bond, no one else knew about it. As for that "painter"? That's even more impossible. In this line of work, reputation is everything. No one would be foolish enough to turn around and report their sugar daddy instead of making big money.

If all the impossibilities are eliminated, then the remaining one, however absurd, is the truth.

A venomous glint flashed in Hong Wengang's eyes: Could it be that old bastard, Mr. Yao?!

Just because I canceled his order, this crazy old man is actually trying to send me to jail in revenge?!

"Good luck, Mr. Hong."

"Beep—beep—beep—"

The phone hangs up.

"Drive! Get out of here!!" Hong Wengang roared hysterically.

However, it was too late.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Three red signal flares soared into the sky, illuminating the dark beach as if it were daytime.

"Waaaaahh ...

The piercing sound of sirens instantly tore through the night sky.

Countless police cars and riot control vehicles rushed out of the darkness from all directions, their blinding searchlight beams like sharp swords, locking onto the two SUVs.

"All vehicles ahead, turn off your engines and surrender immediately! You are surrounded!"

A stern warning from the police came through the loudspeaker.

"Boss! They're all police officers! At least a hundred of them!"

Looking at the densely packed Special Police Unit (PTU) and Special Duties Unit (SDU) outside, the bodyguard captain shouted desperately, "We can't get out!"

Hong Wengang slumped into the leather seat, his gold-rimmed glasses slipping down to the tip of his nose.

He looked out the window at the dark gun barrels, then at the two bags of "evidence" worth 20 million yuan at his feet.

It's over, everything is over.

His lifelong empire of human organs and his vast wealth vanished in an instant.

"Yao... Yao the Old Dog..."

Hong Wengang clutched his chest tightly, his heart throbbing with pain, his eyes filled with venomous resentment. "You tricked me...you actually dared to trick me..."

In despair, Hong Wengang would not doubt the painter who gave him 20 million yuan worth of "genuine goods"; he would only hate Mr. Yao who "betrayed" him.

"Boss, let's fight them!" The bodyguard captain drew his gun.

"What a load of crap!"

Hong Wengang slapped the bodyguard on the head, breathing weakly, "Do you want to be riddled with bullets? Surrender... surrender!"

As a human trafficker, he values ​​his life more than anyone else; as long as he's alive, there's a chance to turn things around. Moreover, the police can only charge him with counterfeiting; they have no evidence of human trafficking. With his money and legal team, he might still have a glimmer of hope.

The car door opened.

The bodyguards, with their hands raised, slunk off the building.

Hong Wengang straightened his disheveled coat, picked up the walking stick, and shakily got off the bus.

"Don't move! Lie down!"

Song Zijie was the first to rush forward, kicking the bodyguard to the ground, and then pressing the dark muzzle of a gun against Hong Wengang's forehead.

"Hong Wengang, you're under arrest!"

Looking at this monster who had destroyed countless families, Song Zijie's eyes were filled with pleasure. "You have the right to remain silent, but everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law!"

Hong Wengang was pressed down on the muddy ground, his pale face pressed against the cold rocks.

But he did not beg for mercy. Instead, he struggled to raise his head and revealed a sinister smile.

"Officer...I request to see my lawyer."

"I won't say anything until my lawyer arrives."