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

Chapter 85 Real Men Always Go Through the Front Door! (4K, Please Subscribe!)

Victoria Peak.

Hou Shaorong knelt outside the carved iron gate, his knees hitting the imported granite floor tiles; the needle-like pain had long since turned into numbness.

Under the blazing sun, sweat streamed down his hairline, soaking into his shirt collar, and his back was already drenched in sweat, the dark fabric clinging tightly to his skin.

But he dared not wipe it, or even make any other movements.

Inside the door was a three-story European-style villa with beige exterior walls, a deep red pitched roof, closed windows, and curtains drawn tightly.

Several meticulously pruned Podocarpus macrophyllus trees grew in the yard, their shade falling less than two meters away from him, visible but untouchable.

The bodyguard stood inside the door, looking at him expressionlessly, as if he were looking at a lapdog lying at the door.

Hou Shaorong licked his chapped lips.

His phone vibrated countless times in his pocket, but he didn't answer, nor did he dare to.

In the Hong Kong police force, he is a superintendent, a sergeant, a man who can slam his fist on the table and yell at people.

But in front of the person behind that door, he was less than a dog.

Just then, the walkie-talkie on the bodyguard's waist suddenly emitted a static sound.

Hou Shaorong suddenly raised his head.

The bodyguard pressed the earpiece and listened for a few seconds, but his expression remained unchanged.

He then turned and walked a few steps toward the villa, replying in a low voice, but because they were too far away, no one outside the door could hear him.

A moment later, the security guard returned.

"Mr. Hou."

"Yes."

"My master told me to tell you—go back and clean up the rest."

Hou Shaorong's body trembled.

"Especially the things Magellan left behind; if you don't clean them up properly, you won't need to go back to Hong Kong."

The bodyguard continued, his face expressionless.

Upon hearing this, Hou Shaorong felt a sense of relief and almost fell to the ground.

"Thank... thank you, Master."

He slammed his forehead against the scorching hot floor tiles, each strike landing squarely.

"I will definitely get it done, I will definitely get it done."

At the same time, in an apartment in Tsim Sha Tsui.

Chen Fan stood outside Ruan Mei's door and knocked.

The door opened quickly, and Ruan Mei's pretty face came into view.

She was wearing a light yellow short-sleeved shirt and white capri pants, her hair loosely pinned behind her ears with hair clips, revealing her two small ears.

"Afan! You're back so early today."

Ruan Mei stepped aside to let Chen Fan in: "I haven't even started cooking yet."

"I'm not eating here today, I just came to see you. Where's Grandma?"

"Oh, Grandma's asleep. It was hot today, and she said she felt dizzy, so she stayed in bed all afternoon."

Ruan Mei took two steps toward the kitchen, then turned back. "I'll pour you a glass of water; there's something cold in the fridge."

"No need to rush."

Chen Fan sat down on the sofa and gestured for her to sit down as well.

Ruan Mei blushed, but she didn't resist; instead, she sat down close to him.

"Afan, don't make too much noise, Grandma is a light sleeper."

"What's making so much noise? Uh... never mind, how's work going?"

"It's great, not tiring at all. The salary isn't high, but your friend sends money over every month, so it's not only enough to live on, but you can also save a lot."

After saying that, she seemed to remember something and cautiously asked, "I also watched TV yesterday. Is what the director said true? Does he really treat those orphanage children like children?"

"It may be, it may not be, time will tell, Amei, I want to tell you something."

"Okay, go ahead."

"My friend and I started a company. It's not big, but we do legitimate business."

Chen Fan said softly, "You know my identity makes it inconvenient for me to do this, so I'd like to ask you to go and take care of it for me."

Ruan Mei was stunned at first, then she bounced up as if she had been burned, waving her hands in front of her.

"No, no, I haven't even had much education, how can I manage a company?"

"You just need to manage the accounts. Other things will be handled by other people. You just need to keep a clear record of every penny that comes in and goes, and make sure there are no problems with the accounts."

Ruan Mei paused.

Accountant?

She sat down again.

"Then, in what capacity should I go?"

"What do you think of my girlfriend, the boss's wife?"

Ruan Mei blushed deeply upon hearing this, clutching her chest and breathing heavily.

"I'm afraid I won't do it well... What if I make a mistake in the calculation? Or what if I get scammed?"

She said with some difficulty, "Afan, I'm so stupid. The convenience store owner used to always say I was slow at doing calculations."

"Don't worry, my friend is a very nice person, nothing like that will happen. Besides, you can go and learn it."

Chen Fan pulled her close, saying, "I'll pay for the tuition."

"Um... so, Afan, are we officially a couple now?"

Ruan Mei looked up, her slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with spring-like beauty.

"Yes, of course."

The following is omitted: 1.5 million words.

Tsuen Wan.

The night wind blew in from the sea, carrying a salty, damp smell.

Wang Jianjun squatted at the entrance of an abandoned warehouse, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, the flame flickering in the darkness.

Several brothers sat scattered on the wooden crate behind him, wiping their tools. No one spoke, only the occasional clinking of metal broke the silence.

Just then, footsteps came from the alley entrance.

Wang Jianjun stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, and squinted at the scene.

Chen Fan emerged from the shadows.

He wore a dark brown suit today, which was well-tailored and made his broad shoulders and narrow waist look even more striking.

He wore a smiling mask, and the upward curve of his lips looked particularly eerie in the moonlight.

"Hmm..."

"Boss!"

Wang Jianjun grinned, "Your outfit is even more impressive than what you see on TV."

Chen Fan tilted his head, and a hoarse, metallic voice came from under the mask.

"Is everyone here?"

"Not one less!"

Wang Jianjun stepped aside, saying, "I rarely admire anyone in my life, but you're one of them. I can take a little less commission for my work in the future."

He came down from the battlefield and was recruited into the army as soon as he arrived in port, without even having a chance to turn bad.

Therefore, she possesses a very simple sense of justice and greatly admires Chen Fan's style.

"There's no need. You risk your lives for food; I'm not going to take advantage of that."

"Alright, it's your choice. What kind of work are we doing tonight?"

"I'm going to that old dog's house to get something. Keep an eye on the surroundings and don't let any escape."

Chen Fan said softly, "Just watch the show."

"Boss, you're going in alone? What if..."

"Just do as instructed."

"OK."

Wang Jianjun finally nodded.

However, he also had his own thoughts: no matter what, he couldn't let Chen Fan die.

It's rare to find a boss who suits his taste and pays him generously. He doesn't want to end up like his competitors, hiding and unable to even get a hot meal.

"Set off."

Thirty minutes later.

Brocade Garden.

This is a well-known affluent area in Tsuen Wan, where villas of varying sizes are cascading down the hillside, with lights dotting the greenery.

The people living here are either popular celebrities or business owners.

The access control is extremely strict, with security guards patrolling 24 hours a day, and ordinary people cannot even get through the gate.

In a storage room opposite House No. 3.

Hou Shaorong leaned against a pile of dusty gardening tools, the cigarette in his hand already burned down to the filter, but he was completely unaware, and took another deep drag.

He only stopped when the burning sensation reached his fingers, frowning as he threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it repeatedly with the sole of his shoe.

There were already dozens of identical cigarette butts scattered all over the ground.

"Hou Sir, you should take a break."

Inspector Wang, who was sitting by the door, turned around and lowered his voice.

"The brothers are all keeping an eye on things. I'll keep watch over this side for you, and I guarantee not even a fly will get in."

"I'm not tired."

His voice was hoarse, but his words were filled with righteous indignation.

"This matter concerns the reputation of our entire police force. That V slapped us in the face in front of millions of citizens in Hong Kong. Now the Commissioner is watching closely. How can I take a break?"

"I'm worried your body won't be able to handle it, and then..."

"I can hold on. Go out and check again, and tell the brothers not to fall asleep!"

"Yes, Sir."

Meanwhile, in an alley 300 meters west of the villa.

An unassuming white van was parked in the shade of a large banyan tree, with the words "Home Appliance Repair" printed on its side. It looked like an ordinary construction vehicle.

Inside the carriage, Lok Wai-ching took off her headphones and rubbed her ears, which were aching from being pressed down.

She was wearing a dark gray hooded sweatshirt today, with all her hair tucked into the hood. She wasn't wearing makeup, and her lips were a little chapped from not drinking water for a long time.

His colleague, Qiang, leaned against the driver's seat, holding up an old-fashioned listening device with its antenna sticking out from the car window, pointing it at the direction the police had set up.

"Sister Zhen, it's been a whole day."

Ah-Qiang put down the listening device, yawned, and said, "Those cops have been keeping watch for so long, and we haven't even seen a ghost. How long are we going to have to wait?"

"You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?"

Lok Wai-ching bluntly retorted, "Getting big news always involves hard work. If you don't have the patience, you can go back to the newspaper now. I can handle it all by myself."

"Who says I'm impatient?"

Ah-Qiang awkwardly shut his mouth and raised the listening device again.

Just then, a figure suddenly appeared at the end of the road.

The police officers, who were on high alert, immediately noticed something was wrong and all looked in that direction.

The figure was slowly walking towards them.

He wasn't moving fast; his leather shoes made a crisp, rhythmic sound as they trod on the cement pavement.

The smiling mask on his face made the upturned corners of his mouth look particularly eerie under the streetlights.

The air seemed to freeze in that instant.

"House shovel, I've finally waited for you!!"

Behind the window, Hou Shaorong gripped the window frame, his face contorted with ecstatic elation.

"Quickly! Get the brothers to do it, dead or alive!"

Inside the bread cart.

Lok Wai-ching grabbed the earphones and threw herself against the car window.

The camera had been lying at her feet all day, and now it finally came in handy.

"Qiang, turn it on! Turn it on now!!"

Her shout startled Ah-Qiang so much that he almost threw away the listening device and frantically tried to find the camera.

But where no one could see, a pair of bright eyes shone brightly in the night.

This is a woman.

She wore a black sleeveless bodysuit that accentuated her extremely tall and slender figure, and her face was covered by a thin black veil, obscuring her features.

Her legs were extremely long, with well-proportioned and firm calves and rounded, full thighs. She wore a pair of black soft-soled ankle boots, and squatted there like a female leopard ready to pounce.

interesting!

The woman watched with great interest as the mask gradually stepped into the light on the road below, anticipating what would happen next.

But she wasn't sure if it was just her imagination, but she vaguely felt that while she was staring at the other person, the other person was also seeing her.

Chen Fan did not stop.

The pace was neither too fast nor too slow, like going to a pre-arranged date.

"Stop! Police!"

The plainclothes police officer at the forefront raised his gun with both hands, the muzzle pointed at Chen Fan's chest, his knuckles turning white from the force.

Behind him were more than a dozen policemen, also brandishing guns. The semi-circular encirclement quickly tightened, trapping Chen Fan in the open space in front of the villa.

The white light of the searchlights shone from all directions, illuminating the smiling mask in every detail.

"Put down your weapons! Put your hands behind your head! Kneel down!"

It was Inspector Wang who shouted, his face flushed red with excitement.

My mind is already filled with fantasies of getting a promotion and a raise.

Chen Fan finally stopped, but made no move. Instead, he casually looked at the police officers opposite him.

"I'm saying this one last time—put your hands behind your head and kneel on the ground!"

Inspector Wang's finger was already on the trigger, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

Chen Fan tilted his head, then raised his right hand and gently pinched the brim of his hat with his index and middle fingers, pressing it down slightly.

His movements were as graceful as if he were greeting a lady at a ball.

Inspector Wang's pupils suddenly contracted.

"open..."

He opened his mouth and shouted, preparing to pull the trigger.

But before he could make a move, a flash of fire appeared before his eyes.

A black pistol appeared in Chen Fan's hand at some point, and with the blessing of the Death Eye, everything around him slowed down.

The bullets spewed from the muzzle, flying at normal speed in a slow-motion world, tracing straight trajectories.

boom! boom! boom!

It was just a pistol, but at this moment it was showing the shooting effect of an automatic rifle.

The .38 rifles in the hands of everyone, including Inspector Wang, were precisely destroyed.

After doing all this, Chen Fan lowered his gun and looked at the police officers who were still in shock.

He held the brim of his hat with his other hand and bowed slightly.

"Officers, don't move, or you'll die next time."

No one speaks.

The air was filled with the smell of gunpowder and a suffocating silence.

The police officers who came with them on this mission were all veterans who had handled countless cases.

But there has never been a situation like this before.

Is this something a human can do?

Chen Fan straightened up and started walking again.

The leather shoes swept across the spent cartridge cases on the ground, making a crisp metallic clanging sound.

He walked in the lights as if he were on his own personal stage.

Unhurried and unhurried, so calm it sends chills down your spine.

Chen Fan didn't want to kill innocent people indiscriminately, so he gave them a chance.

But some people don't seem willing to cherish it.