In Hong Kong variety shows, what does "crime buster" mean?

Chapter 112 Wang Jiu

Saigon Street.

A seafood restaurant that has been open for more than 20 years is located here. The restaurant is not big, but it is good because of the freshness of its ingredients, and regular customers keep coming.

Han Chen sat in a booth by the window on the second floor, with half a typhoon shelter-style stir-fried crab, a plate of salt and pepper mantis shrimp, and two bowls of white porridge in front of him.

His wife, Mary, was sitting opposite him, using chopsticks to carefully remove the meat from the crab claws and put it into Han Chen's bowl.

"I can do it myself."

Han Chen picked up the bowl of porridge and took a sip, his expression showing a rare relaxation he hadn't had in days.

"You've been having a lot of social engagements lately, and your stomach isn't feeling well, so eat more."

Mary didn't even look up, her hands still moving. "Try to avoid those social engagements if you can. Your health is your own responsibility."

"Okay."

Han Chen smiled, his gaze falling through the glass window onto the neon sign across the street.

Tsim Sha Tsui is always so lively at night, with a constant flow of cars and people.

Since the Ni family went into hiding, his business has more than doubled.

Those establishments that used to have to be mindful of Ni Yongxiao's feelings are now coming to him one after another, saying they want to cooperate with him.

When Blackie and Wen Zheng met, they kept calling each other "Brother Chen" and showering each other with compliments.

But Han Chen knew very well that these were all opportunists. As long as he still bore the Ni family's name, he would remain one of the Five Tigers of Tsim Sha Tsui, not Han Chen of Tsim Sha Tsui.

However, these are not important at the moment.

As long as he has enough in his hands, those who should bow their heads will naturally bow their heads.

"husband."

Mary put down her chopsticks, looked up at him, and said with a serious look in her eyes, "Don't you think things have been going too well for us lately?"

'

"Isn't going with the flow good?"

Han Chen put down his bowl of porridge and leaned back in his chair.

"I did not mean that."

Mary carefully considered her words, "The Ni family also has Ni Yongxiao. Although he seems frightened, you should know better than me that he definitely won't let this go so easily."

As the person behind Ni Kun's murder, she had been waiting for that mysterious phone call, but unfortunately, it never came.

This state of uncertainty is the most agonizing.

If she can't find that person, then the best solution is to get rid of Ni Yongxiao.

However, Han Chen clearly didn't think that way.

"Wife, I am a member of the Ni family. If it weren't for the old man's help back then, I might never have been able to turn my life around."

"But he's dead. You've been paying for this for so many years, and now this rare opportunity has arrived. Could it be...?"

"Stop talking! As long as Ah-Xiao is still alive, I will never betray the Ni family!"

Han Chen interrupted his wife, perhaps feeling that it was a bit inappropriate, and continued, "Didn't you say you wanted to buy that new bag? Let's go buy it later."

Mary felt helpless, but couldn't say anything more.

She lowered her head and continued picking the meat out of the crab claws, but the wrinkles between her brows did not relax.

Just then, a commotion suddenly broke out downstairs.

The sounds of tables and chairs overturning and dishes shattering were interspersed with a few short screams.

Han Chen frowned.

As a seasoned veteran, he immediately had a guess in his mind.

Someone is probably coming to cause trouble for me, but I don't know who it is.

Ni Yongxiao? Or those two good-for-nothings?

Han Chen slowly wiped his mouth with a tissue, then smiled at his wife; "Go hide in the back."

Mary exhaled softly, her face showing no sign of panic. She calmly tidied up the things on the table and then walked towards the restroom at the back.

The noise downstairs lasted for less than half a minute before stopping, replaced by an unsettling silence.

Then footsteps came from the direction of the stairs.

It was unhurried, yet it felt like stepping on people's hearts.

Han Chen's hand had already slipped inside his coat.

At the top of the stairs, a person slowly appeared.

Han Chen paused slightly as he saw the face clearly and drew his gun.

The person who came was dressed very strangely.

He was wearing a dark long gown from an unknown era, with wide sleeves and several black iron chains wrapped around his wrists, which gleamed coldly under the light.

He was very tall, but very thin, and with that outfit, he looked like a stick.

However, what's most unsettling is that face.

His facial features were nothing special, but he wore a strange and stiff smile.

"Brother Chen!"

Another person appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

Sha Qiang's face was covered in blood, one eye was so swollen he couldn't open it, and the strange man was holding his head with one hand, lifting him in mid-air like a chick.

He raised his hand and grabbed the man's wrist, trying to pry it open, but to no avail.

"Get your shovel!"

Han Chen didn't look at Sha Qiang again. He pulled his right hand out of his coat and pointed the dark muzzle of the gun at the unchanging smiling face.

Who are you?

The strange man tilted his head, as if trying to identify the person speaking.

Then he casually tossed Sha Qiang aside.

Sha Qiang's body traced an arc in the air before crashing heavily onto the table against the wall, shattering the tabletop and sending wood chips flying.

He groaned and curled up among the broken pieces of wood, remaining motionless.

"Wang Jiu".

The strange man spoke in a hoarse voice, "Guns? Come on, shoot!"

As he stepped forward, he pointed to his head with his finger.

"I promise I won't dodge!"

Han Chen's pupils contracted slightly.

Without a word, he pulled the trigger.

boom!

The bullets were ejected from the muzzle, making it almost impossible for them to miss at such close range.

Wang Jiu really had no intention of hiding.

The bullet struck him squarely in the chest with a dull thud.

The scene of blood splattering that Han Chen had envisioned did not occur.

The bullet had torn a hole in the outer garment, revealing the skin underneath.

The bullet lodged in the skin like a pebble embedded in a tree trunk, only scratching the surface before falling limply to the ground.

Ding-dong...

The bullet bounced twice on the tiled floor and rolled to a stop in the corner.

Han Chen's eyes widened suddenly.

"You've hit me in the head all along!!"

Wang Jiu was furious. In one step, he covered a distance of seven or eight meters and appeared directly in front of Han Chen.

Han Chen pulled the trigger.

The second bullet went straight for Wang Jiu's forehead.

Wang Jiu tilted his head slightly.

The impact was slight; the bullet grazed his temple, leaving a bloody mark on his earlobe.

At the same time, his right hand reached out, fingers spread, and gripped Han Chen's wrist holding the gun.

"You actually dare to hit me?!"

Wang Jiu became even angrier and began to exert force with his fingers.

Han Chen felt as if his wrist was being clamped by an iron clamp, and the bones were making a cracking sound under his skin.

He gritted his teeth, trying to break free, but his hand remained motionless until he could no longer hold the gun.

"husband!"

Mary, who was hiding in the toilet, eventually rushed out.

She grabbed the soy sauce dish from the table and threw it at Wang Jiu's face, while simultaneously reaching for the gun on the ground.

Wang Jiu didn't even look at her, casually waving his left hand.

Mary's body flew sideways like a kite with a broken string, crashing into the wall and sliding down softly.

"Wife!!"

Han Chen's eyes reddened, and he clenched his other hand into a fist, slamming it hard into Wang Jiu's temple.

Wang Jiu did not dodge.

The fist landed on his temple, making Han Chen's knuckles ache, but Wang Jiu didn't even flinch.

He looked down at Han Chen, the smile still on his face.

Then, he released his grip on Han Chen's wrist, instead grabbing the back of his neck and lifting him up like a chick.

Han Chen's feet left the ground.

He struggled to fight back, but the hand pressed down on the back of his neck like a mountain, preventing him from even lifting his head.

Wang Jiu carried him to the window.

"I hate it when people hit me on the head!"

Click!