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

1 points in the early hours.

Dundas Street, Mong Kok.

The once bustling night market seemed to sense some kind of danger signal. Ten minutes earlier, the vendors pushing carts selling fish balls and offal had vanished without a trace.

The shops on both sides of the street pulled down their iron shutters, leaving only the streetlights and neon signs emitting a crackling electrical sound, illuminating the empty asphalt road in a stark white light.

"Boom—!!!"

A burst of intense and noisy engine roar shattered the tranquility of the night.

A dozen or so dilapidated Toyota vans, like a pack of mad dogs, came charging recklessly from the street corner. The screeching of brakes rose and fell, and the tires rubbed against the asphalt, giving off a burnt smell.

"Splash—"

The car door was roughly pulled open.

Like stirring up a hornet's nest, countless figures poured out of the car. There were more than a hundred people, carrying steel pipes, machetes, and chains, all with brightly colored hair, cursing and shouting, making quite a scene.

The leader was a large man with a thick bandage wrapped around his forehead, the bandage still stained with blood.

At this moment, his face was contorted with rage, and he held a sharpened machete in his hand. The more than one hundred brothers behind him gave him boundless confidence.

"Damn it! Surround them!" Big Guy stood at the bar entrance, pointing at the half-closed roller shutter, spitting as he roared, "Don't let a single fly escape tonight! Chop that Ah Hua into mincemeat later!"

According to the unwritten rules of the martial arts world, such large-scale "showing off of horses" usually involves a "pre-battle shouting" session before the fight begins. This includes exchanging introductions, greeting each other's female relatives, uttering a few harsh words, and finally, engaging in combat.

Big Guy cleared his throat, preparing to gather his strength and shout some platitudes like "Hung Hing has crossed the line" or "Tung Sing is doing its business, idlers get out of the way" to boost his prestige.

however.

"Crackling sound—!!"

A sharp metallic scraping sound suddenly rang out.

The roller shutter door, which was originally half-closed, was suddenly pulled up from the inside.

No nonsense.

There was no standoff.

There wasn't even a single extra shout.

"kill!"

With a low growl that was filled with boundless killing intent.

A dark blue figure shot out of the bar like a cannonball.

Ahua.

The gleaming longsword in his hand flashed a cold light under the neon lights, and before Big Guy could even react, the blade was already upon him.

"Grass!"

The big guy was so scared that he swallowed all the harsh words he had just prepared, and instinctively raised his knife to block.

"clang!!"

Sparks flew everywhere.

The immense force made the big man's hand go numb, and he staggered back several steps.

Immediately afterwards, sixty black torrents burst forth from behind Ahua.

On the left is the plane leading a pack of thirty "wolves." Although they are young and only have rubber batons and steel pipes, their ruthless ferocity is just like that of wild wolves that have been starving all winter.

On the right are thirty "ghosts" from Jiahe Security. They are silent and ruthless. Their specially made batons are not raised high above their heads and swung around, but are neatly hung at their sides, a tactical posture ready to launch a fatal blow at any time.

"Beat them! Kill them!"

The big guy was somewhat surprised to see the other side charging forward, but relying on his superior numbers—over a hundred against sixty, the advantage was in his hands—he still fiercely waved his hand and gave the order.

The two groups of people collided instantly on the not-so-wide Dundas Street.

If it were a typical gang fight, this would have been a close and uneventful battle, or Ah-Hua's side would have been driven away due to their numerical advantage.

But that's not the case.

This was a one-sided massacre.

"ah!!"

As soon as the battle began, heart-wrenching screams came from the East Star side.

Jiahe Security formed a tight tactical formation of three-person teams. They barely spoke, simply charging headlong into the Dongxing group, their teamwork was outrageously seamless: one blocked, one attacked the lower body, and one finished off the attacker.

"Snap!"

"Snap!"

Each swing is accompanied by a sickening cracking sound. No fancy moves are needed, just the simplest and most effective strikes—wrist taps, knee sweeps, and collarbone strikes.

Any Tung Sing henchmen who got close to them either had their arms or legs broken, instantly losing their fighting ability and lying on the ground howling in pain.

The gang of thugs from Tung Sing, who usually only bullied honest people and fought by ganging up on each other, had never seen anything like this before.

This is the superior force of a regular army defeating a rogue.

On the other hand, the combat style of aircraft is at the other extreme.

Crazy.

He held two steel pipes in his hands, making no attempt to defend himself, letting the other man's sticks fall on his back without blinking, his eyes fixed on the other man's face as he relentlessly smashed the pipes.

"puff!"

One of the Tung Sing henchmen slashed at the plane's shoulder with a knife. Although the protective gear provided some protection, blood still flowed.

The plane seemed oblivious, instead grinning with a creepy smile, then lunged forward and bit the other's ear.

"Ah!! You're insane! You're insane!!"

The henchman screamed, dropped his knife, and rolled on the ground, clutching his blood-soaked ear.

The plane spat out the blood and foam from its mouth and swooped down on its next target. This reckless fighting style terrified the Tung Sing henchmen on this side.

As for Ahua.

Although he wasn't as extreme as Jiahe Security or as crazy as Airplane, he was steady enough.

He was like a pillar of strength, firmly guarding the front of the group, specifically targeting the enemy's minor leaders.

In just ten minutes.

Of the more than one hundred Tung Sing henchmen who were originally so imposing, more than half have fallen.

The entire street was filled with people lying there, clutching severed limbs and wailing in agony. Blood mingled with the sewage from the street, gleaming eerily under the neon lights.

Lu Chen's previous orders were to injure or maim, but not kill, so Ahua and his men were very careful, only breaking bones and not taking lives. But for the people of Dongxing, this was worse than death.

"We can't hold on! These guys are too strong!"

"My hand! My hand is broken!"

"Run! Run faster!"

Finally, Dongxing's already weakened willpower completely collapsed. Less than half of the remaining men began to abandon their weapons and run towards the bread truck.

"Trying to run away?"

The fly, which had been hiding in the shadows with a baseball bat in its hand, suddenly lit up.

Although he's not good at fighting, "finishing off" and "picking up the scraps" are his strengths.

He kept staring at the big guy.

At this point, Big Guy, seeing that the situation was hopeless, no longer cared about saving face as the boss. He clutched his shoulder, which had been slashed by Ahua again, and crouched down, trying to crawl into the Toyota van.

"Damn it, as long as the green hills remain, there's always firewood to burn..."

The big guy had just opened the car door, but hadn't even stepped on it yet.

"Hey! You idiot!"

A sleazy shout rang out behind him.

The big guy instinctively turned around.

"state--!!"

A solid metal baseball bat flew through the air in a perfect arc and struck the big guy squarely on the back of the head.

The fly used every ounce of strength it had to deliver that blow.

The big guy didn't even utter a sound. He rolled his eyes, and his whole body went limp like a lump of mud, collapsing to the ground with a "thud".

"Hahaha!" Fly jumped up excitedly, struck a Bruce Lee pose, and stepped on Big Guy's fat face. "Serves you right for being so arrogant! Serves you right for bringing people to wreak havoc!"

"Tie him up!" Ahua strode over, kicked away the machete next to Big Guy, and shouted at Fly, "Stop posing and get to work!"

With their leader captured, Tung Sing completely scattered like birds and beasts, and the remaining underlings abandoned their cars and fled in all directions, crying and screaming.

At this point, only twenty-five minutes had passed since the start of the battle.

At the entrance of the Hero Bar, dozens of wounded men lay sprawled out, groaning in pain. Meanwhile, on Ahua's side, apart from a few newcomers suffering minor injuries, the main force was unharmed.

"Brother Hua, we won!" Fei Ji wiped the blood from his face and said excitedly.

"It's not over yet."

Ahua glanced at his watch; it was 1:30 a.m.

There are still at least five hours until dawn.

"Send the injured brothers to the hospital, and the rest..."

Ah Wah's gaze drifted to the other end of the street, towards Portland Street, where Tung Sing's other venues in Mong Kok were located.

"We should press our advantage and pursue the enemy to the bitter end," Ahua recalled Lu Chen's words, a ruthless glint in his eyes. "Tonight, Dongxing's main force is all here; the rest of the venues are mostly empty shells."

"Airplane! Take your people and follow me!"

"Tonight, I'm going to completely wipe the Tung Sing flag off Mong Kok!"

"yes!!"

The troops, having just won a battle, were in high spirits and jumped onto the captured bread carts.

The engine roared.

This "wolf pack," which had just begun to bare its fangs, started a frantic "clean-up" under the cover of night.

……

at the same time.

Kowloon Regional Police Station, Commissioner's Office.

Although it was already past midnight, the office was still brightly lit.

Through the window, one could faintly hear the distant sirens of police cars and the incessant ringing of emergency phones.

"Commander! There's fighting in Mong Kok!" A young uniformed officer rushed in, knocking anxiously. "The emergency call center has been overrun! They say hundreds of people are fighting on Dundas Street! And on Portland Street, Sai Yeung Choi Street... fighting is happening everywhere!"

"Should we deploy the riot police?"

Sitting behind the desk was a fat, foreign police superintendent with a mustache.

He held a glass of whiskey in his hand, a freshly cut cigar on the table, and... a thin check.

The HSBC logo on the check gleamed under the lights, and the number on it was one million.

This was personally delivered by Chen Yao of Hung Hing half an hour ago.

He also brought a message: "Hello Commissioner, tonight's Mong Kok cleanup will only cause minor damage, not fatalities. And it will absolutely not disturb ordinary citizens or businesses."

The foreign police superintendent slowly took a sip of his drink, glanced at the young officer, and said in broken Cantonese, "What's the rush? Let the gangsters fight like dogs. What if they hurt my officers if we go out now?"

"But……"

"There's no 'but' about it!"

The foreign superintendent hardened his face. "Pass the order: all police cars are to stand by at the station. We'll arrest them after they've finished fighting and it's daylight. Remember, as long as no one dies and no shops are burned down, we'll pretend we didn't see anything."

"Yes, Sir..." The young police officer was puzzled, but could only step back helplessly.

As the door closed, the foreign police superintendent picked up the check, a greedy smile spreading across his face.

……

This night was the end of the world for the Tung Sing faction in Mong Kok.

Without the leader's command, and with the elite forces wiped out in one fell swoop at the entrance of the Hero Bar, the remaining underlings were simply unable to mount an effective resistance.

Ahua led his men like autumn leaves swept away by the wind.

At 2 a.m., we won the "Golden Capital Mahjong Parlor".

At 3 a.m., they wiped out the "Ruby Nightclub".

At 4 a.m., I took over all the parking spaces on Sai Yeung Choi Street.

When the first rays of dawn appeared on the horizon.

Ah Wah stood on the Mong Kok footbridge, looking down at the street that was gradually coming back to life.

His suit was stained with blood and dust, and the long knife in his hand was dulled from repeated blows. But he stood tall, his eyes brighter than ever before.

Behind him, Fly, Airplane, and his sixty brothers, though exhausted, all had excitement written on their faces.

Overnight.

Tung Sing's flag in Mong Kok was uprooted.