Hong Kong film: Refusing to go undercover, the policeman's path to becoming the richest man.

Chapter 68: Deadly Scandal, Double Collapse

Liu Jianming sneered, not even stopping his chopsticks: "According to the intelligence we have, Ni Yongxiao passed the leadership to Han Chen. You were dissatisfied, so you stirred up trouble."

"Ultimately, it was you who wanted to rebel, wasn't it?"

"Bullshit!" Gandhi roared. "I asked the other tigers, and none of them acknowledge that pretty boy Han Chen! If they weren't cowards, would I be standing in front of them all by myself?"

Liu Jianming chuckled and continued gnawing on his tripe, as if he had heard a joke.

Gandhi's face was ashen, his breathing was heavy, and the veins on his forehead bulged.

He suddenly drew his gun, the dark muzzle pressed against Liu Jianming's temple, and grinned maliciously: "Cop, do you look down on me?"

Liu Jianming then slowly raised his head, his gaze sharp as a knife, piercing straight to the heart.

He casually remarked, "Save your breath."

"You're really capable; you would have taken down all four tigers long ago."

"You don't even dare to touch anything within the gang, yet you dare to kill me?"

"I am a police officer."

After saying that, he lowered his head again and casually started rinsing the beef tripe.

The air seemed to freeze for a moment.

Gandhi's finger was on the trigger, his whole body trembling, but he ultimately couldn't pull it.

Liu Jianming ate with great relish, his forehead sweating from the spiciness, but a sense of absurd regret welled up inside him.

Is this the ruthless character known in the underworld as one of the "Five Tigers"?

Back when he followed Mary into the underworld, Gandhi was a ruthless man who could stop street children from crying at the mere mention of his name; he was a force to be reckoned with in the Tsim Sha Tsui area.

What now?

Being scolded by a policeman sitting across from me, pointing his finger at me, I almost drew my gun but then pulled back, like a deflated fool whose balloon had been popped.

Liu Jianming chewed on the duck blood while giving a bitter smile.

If I'd known these mob bosses were so weak-willed in front of the police badge, why did I even bother hanging out with Mary? I should have just gone to police academy!

There's no going back in life, but he's now experiencing the consequences firsthand.

Since he met Mary, Huang Zhicheng was transferred by Han Chen to investigate other cases, while he himself received a transfer order to be parachuted into the Tsim Sha Tsui Precinct Major Crime Unit as a police sergeant.

Promoted exceptionally.

Cheng Guobin spoke to him personally, his tone carrying a hint of mentoring a younger generation: "Ni Yongxiao has completely cleaned up his act, and the underground business has been divided among the Five Tigers."

"As a result, this group of people turned on each other like dogs, and fought fiercely."

"They're swamped in Tsim Sha Tsui, and that's how they managed to pull you up from the uniformed unit."

"Recently, only three people with military backgrounds have been transferred to the entire West Kowloon Headquarters."

"He Chu, Yang Jinrong, and then you."

"You were specifically requested by Inspector Ho, don't embarrass him."

Liu Jianming silently finished the last bite of noodles, carefully wiped his mouth with a tissue, and then slowly said, "Put the gun away."

Isn't it tiring to hold?

Gandhi gritted his teeth and finally tucked the gun back into his waistband.

Liu Jianming glanced at him sideways, a mocking smile playing on his lips: "Gandhi, wouldn't it be better to just peacefully assist the leader? Why insist on bloodshed and infighting?"

"You're risking your life for someone else, and then paying them to do the work? What are you after?"

"You damn cop, what did you say?" Gandhi's eyes were bloodshot, and he almost lunged at him.

Liu Jianming remained calm and met his gaze, saying slowly and deliberately, "I'm saying, if you don't have the ability, don't try to put on a show."

"Large territory? Lots of money? Many henchmen?"

"That's all fake."

He casually tossed the file he'd been clutching onto the table, it slamming right onto the edge of a plate smeared with chili oil: "Take a good look. You don't even know how you lost, do you?"

Gandhi didn't touch the file, but stared intently at him: "Why?"

This is the question he's been holding back for two years.

Damn it, this is the second time!

Every time, it was Guoliang and Heigui who fanned the flames, pushing him to the forefront as the scapegoat, and then turning against him once the limelight came.

Wen Zheng, being a fence-sitter, immediately switched sides when he saw the situation was not going well.

The script was so bad it made him want to vomit.

But he was unwilling to give up.

Why? It's always the same ending!

He stared intently at Liu Jianming, as if grasping at a last straw: "Tell me—why did I lose again?"

Liu Jianming slowly pulled out a pack of cigarettes, flicked one to Gandhi, and said with a faint smile, "I'm telling you, you brought this on yourself, don't you admit it?"

Gandhi sneered. Admit it with his nose in the air? What a load of rubbish!

Liu Jianming shrugged, not annoyed, and placed a manila envelope on the table: "Take a look at this first, it will at least help you resolve a knot in your heart."

Gandhi frowned, grabbed the bag, and snapped it open.

The next second, his pupils shrank sharply, and his face turned as black as the bottom of a pot!

One photo after another was shown, and in one scene, the woman he loved most was having sex with Guoliang in a hotel bed!

Their actions were so intimate it made me want to grab a knife!

Holy crap! I'm so disgusted by Guoliang's cuckolding!

And they kept it a secret for so long?

Liu Jianming casually added, "According to our internal investigation, these two have been having an affair for four years."

"Two years ago, when Ni Kun died, Ni Yongxiao had already found out and even called Guoliang—now you understand why Guoliang suddenly switched sides?"

boom!

It was like a bomb had exploded in Gandhi's mind! His hand trembled, and he almost tore up all the photos!

"What are you doing?" Liu Jianming raised an eyebrow. "Evidence, brother! Are you trying to destroy evidence? That's illegal, you know?"

Gandhi's hand froze in mid-air, his knuckles turning white.

Liu Jianming casually added, "By the way, your wife gave birth to two sons, right? The older one is three years old, and the younger one is one year old?"

'

"I suggest you take them for a paternity test—before you still have any illusions."

"Bang!"

Gandhi's eyes were bloodshot, and he suddenly overturned the entire table! Wood chips flew everywhere, and teacups shattered all over the floor!

Liu Jianming jumped back and roared, "Couldn't you have told me before flipping the table? Do you even know how much this bespoke suit of mine cost?"

"Oh!"

The bodyguard rushed in: "What's wrong, boss?!"

"Get out!!" Gandhi roared like a wild beast, his voice tearing through the air.

The bodyguard was so frightened that he scrambled out of the room.

Gandhi clenched his fists so tightly they cracked, and roared, "Ah—ah—ah!"

The whole house was shaking.

After he had finished yelling and his voice was hoarse, Liu Jianming slowly spoke: "Alright, are you done venting your emotions?"

"There's a second thing I need to tell you."

Gandhi, panting heavily, his eyes blazing with madness, cried out, "I won't listen! I'll kill Guoliang! I'll chop that bitch to pieces! And those two bastards won't live either!"

Liu Jianming shrugged: "I'd support you killing that scumbag Guoliang."

"But you know—those two kids might actually be yours."

In short, it was like a bucket of cold water being poured over my head.

Gandhi paused, the murderous intent in his eyes fading slightly.

Liu Jianming shook his head and sighed. With this level of intelligence, he still wants to compete with Han Chen?

Even if you risked your life, it wouldn't be enough to fill a tooth gap!

He clapped his hands, then changed his tone: "Have you thought about one last question? Why do black guys always betray you at crucial moments?"

Gandhi looked up, his eyes red as if about to bleed: "Why?"

"Because among the Five Tigers, you are the most honest one."

"What did you say?!" Gandhi exploded instantly. "Are you insulting me?"

In the business of selling cigarettes, the word "honest" is even more offensive than "useless"!

Liu Jianming sneered: "You and that black guy partnered to transport goods, and five out of ten times the boat capsized. Is your luck really that bad?"

"Which Hong Kong businessman hasn't made a mistake? But yours is just too precise! You always seem to hit the exact same landmine?"

Gandhi was stunned.

"Don't you find it strange?" Liu Jianming stared at him. "Didn't you ever consider that those 'sunken' goods actually didn't sink at all?"

Gandhi's mouth slowly opened, as if struck by lightning.

"You've been working together for so many years, you know exactly where his warehouse is."

"Go take a look—that batch of 'sunken' white goods from last month is still neatly stacked in his warehouse."

Liu Jianming looked at him with pity in his eyes: "If you don't have a brain, don't fight for the top spot."

"Otherwise, we'll be eaten alive sooner or later, with not even bones left."

"Ah Chen!" Mary hung up the phone and turned to look at Han Chen. "Ah Ming sent a message that Gandhi wants to join you."

Han Chen raised an eyebrow, his face full of astonishment: "Did he take the wrong medicine?"

He has the biggest territory, the most money (in his own opinion), and his underlings are everywhere.

The only thing blocking his path to the top in the entire Tsim Sha Tsui was the old rock of Gandhi.

If it weren't for Gandhi holding him back, he would have been on the throne long ago!

Mary explained in a low voice, "Amin said that the police force is very dissatisfied with the current situation in Tsim Sha Tsui—it's too chaotic, so chaotic that even the higher-ups can't stand it anymore."

"Kwan Sir in Tsim Sha Tsui has been furious and has given a firm order that this chaos must be quelled within seven days."

"Amin has been sent to see Gandhi."

Han Chen crossed his arms and leaned back on the leather sofa, raising an eyebrow slightly: "This kid's pretty quick. He hasn't even had a chance to get into the plainclothes unit before, has he? Did he just get lucky?"

What he really cared about wasn't Gandhi, but Liu Jianming's rapid promotion.

As for Gandhi? He couldn't even win against four opponents, so he might as well just slit his own throat and leave the world. What's the point of living here?

Mary picked up her coffee and gently blew on it: "He didn't get to his position on his own; he used someone else's influence."

"To be precise, it was his classmate's influence."

"A classmate?" Han Chen narrowed his eyes. "At Ah Ming's age, how much ability could a classmate possibly have?"

Mary chuckled softly: "Huang Zhicheng told me that the Major Crimes Unit C has undergone a major reshuffle."

"As soon as Lu Qichang was promoted, all his old staff were purged."

"The new team leader is named He Chu, a senior inspector."

"Deputy team leader Yang Jinrong, with the title of inspector."

"Most importantly, they graduated from the same police academy as Amin, in the same year."

She paused, her tone meaningful: "It was they who pushed Ah Ming to be transferred to the plainclothes police force despite the usual procedures."

Han Chen's pupils contracted: "What?!"

"Young people these days are fucking terrifying," Mary said with a wry smile.

Han Chen muttered to himself, "Ah Ming only graduated from police academy a few years ago? His classmate has already become a senior inspector?"

After a moment of silence, he smiled and said, "But this is also an opportunity."

"I think this is a good thing," Mary nodded in agreement. "A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Han Chen chuckled softly, "If Ah Ming really climbs to the rank of Senior Inspector, our line of work will never have to bow our heads again!"

"This is enough for now." He crossed his legs. "The plainclothes officers from the Tsim Sha Tsui Major Crimes Unit are perfect for our territory." "Give him a few credits and let him climb the ranks."

"Once we become inspectors, things will go much more smoothly for us."

Mary nodded emphatically: "That's right."

Han Chen suddenly remembered something: "By the way, why did Ah Ming go to see Gandhi?"

Mary's expression was strange, as if she had swallowed a stale candy: "The police are fed up with this shootout."

"Amin went to deliver a message—give them a deadline to quell the situation, or else we'll close in."

"Oh?" Han Chen raised an eyebrow. "How do you plan to calm things down?"

Mary smiled and revealed her hand: "Amin brought a file folder to Gandhi."

"It's full of photos of Guoliang and his wife rolling around in bed."

"There are also records of black people secretly embezzling goods and making private deals with stalls in other places."

Han Chen froze for a second, then burst into maniacal laughter: "Hahaha! Gandhi would be so angry he'd vomit blood on the spot?!"

"That's great, we don't need to fight anymore, our own people will just implode first."

"The police did a great job this time," Mary rarely praised. "Ah Chen, you've truly secured your position as the leader this time."

Han Chen was about to laugh, but his smile suddenly froze.

He frowned: "No, that's not right—"

"What?" Mary's heart skipped a beat. "An ambush?"

Han Chen waved his hand to signal her not to interrupt, then rested his hands on his chin, his gaze growing serious.

"The police sent Amin in ostensibly to mediate, but in reality, it was to exert pressure, right?"

"But we know Gandhi."

"That guy is incredibly ambitious; he always considered himself the number one among the Five Tigers."

"He didn't even respect Ah-Xiao back then, so there's no way he'd bow down and acknowledge me now."

"Amin threw the photos and evidence in his face, intending to force him to stop."

"But given Gandhi's temperament—"

"This isn't peacemaking; it's clearly setting the stage for trouble!"

Mary was suddenly jolted: "You mean—he'll go completely mad and fight us to the death?"

Han Chen slowly shook his head: "No."

"He doesn't have that much of a grudge against me."

"The top position was given up by Ah-Xiao. If anyone should hate someone, it should be Ah-Xiao."

"It has nothing to do with me."

"But can he really hate Guoliang and Blackie?"

"Of course I hate it."

"He can't swallow the insult of being cuckolded and having his business stabbed in the back."

Mary instantly understood: "So he won't turn against you; he'll surrender."

"There's only one condition—hand over Guoliang and Blackie."

Han Chen grinned, a cold glint in his eyes: "Yes, I can imagine him gritting his teeth."

"That's his bottom line."

"The police think they can settle this with this little bit of information? They're naive."

Mary's eyes flashed, and she suggested another possibility: "Could it be—that the police are using someone else to do their dirty work?"

"They didn't want to support a bunch of 'flour' peddlers anymore, so they simply used Gandhi to clean house?"

Han Chen pondered for a moment, then slowly nodded: "That makes sense."

"It's very likely that this is the game."

He suddenly tilted his head back and laughed, his laughter low, husky, and joyful: "But—so what?"

"What did Master say back then?"

"One general's success is built on the bones of ten thousand soldiers—my life is no longer a life."

Mary reached out and gently massaged the tension in his shoulders, saying softly, "No matter how big the storm is, we'll just stand firm."

Han Chen's smile deepened, but his eyes were as cold as ice.

The phone suddenly rang, breaking the silence.

"It's Gandhi calling." Han Chen raised his phone, the screen facing Mary. "Brother Gandhi, what a rare guest. Ever since you and I were vying for the top spot, we've barely spoken on the phone, and we've never even had a hot pot meal together."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone before a voice came through: "Ah Chen, I can admit defeat—but I have one condition."

Han Chen still smiled like a pot-bellied, round-waisted Maitreya Buddha, wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes: "Oh? Tell me about it."

Gandhi's voice sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth: "I will personally kill Guo Liang, and the black devil."

Han Chen didn't respond immediately. He tapped the table lightly with his knuckles twice, and after a long while, he slowly smiled and said, "If someone else had said this to me, I would have thought twice. Are they trying to stir up trouble in my internal affairs so they can reap the benefits?"

"But you're a guy, I trust you."

Gandhi was speechless for a moment, his throat bobbing, and finally he managed to utter, "You know—that's why I had to kill them."

Han Chen nodded, his tone as calm as if he were talking about the weather: "That's the truth."

"Those two deserve to die."

He paused, then suddenly lowered his voice: "But buddy, to be honest—you're not suited to be the leader."

Gandhi's face stiffened, then he sneered: "I didn't accept Ah Xiao passing the position to you before."

Now—I'm convinced.

"I will abide by the rules, and I will still pay the gift money. Not a single penny less."

Han Chen looked up and laughed heartily: "Since you're so generous, I can't be stingy."

"Hey, it's been so long since we got together, how about some hot pot? I'll call everyone, see you at our usual spot?"

Gandhi paused for a moment, his voice hoarse: "If Guoliang and Blackie invited me to eat hot pot, I wouldn't dare to even step inside, for fear they'd shoot me in the head while I was looking down to pick up some tripe."

"But you're different, Ah Chen—I believe in you."

"I'll wait for your call."

With a "click," Han Chen hung up the phone, a smile still lingering on his lips.

Mary frowned: "Ah Chen, if Guo Liang and Blackie really die, we'll be completely at odds with the police." "Ni Kun"

The establishment of the "Five Tigers" was a way to secure a way out, precisely to prevent a situation like today.

Han Chen leaned back in his chair, his expression calm: "You can hide for a while, but you can't hide forever."

"Sooner or later, we'll have to fight face to face."

"Brother Chen!"

"Gandhi!"

"Brother Guoliang!"

"Blackie!"

"Brother Wenzheng!"

The hot pot restaurant owner, beaming with smiles, his wrinkles deep enough to trap mosquitoes, exclaimed, "Oh my, the big shots have finally all returned together!"

The red carpet in front of this store is practically covered in dust!

This is an old, run-down hot pot restaurant hidden deep in an alley. It has no signboard, no decoration, and relies entirely on regular customers to stay afloat.

But Han Chen and his gang love to come here. Anyone in the gang who dares to cause trouble is basically handing over their resume to the crematorium.

The boss knew exactly what was going on; over the years, he had secretly burned incense and prayed to Buddha, thanking these evil spirits for giving him a living.

Rumors have been circulating wildly in the martial arts world—Han Chen has taken the throne, Gandhi is dissatisfied, the Five Tigers have turned against each other, and bloodshed is brewing.

The owner once thought he would never see these five people sitting around a table eating spicy hot pot again in his lifetime.

And what happened? Rumors are just rumors.

The owner quickly served the dishes and then pulled the door shut, shutting out the noise from outside.

"Brother Chen, the top-grade bull penis, your favorite!" Wen Zheng quickly pushed the whole plate in front of Han Chen.

Guoliang immediately retorted, "Damn it! This is the only precious thing on the whole cow, why are you trying to steal it?"

"Brother Chen is so energetic, he doesn't need any supplements. His wife probably doesn't even tell him to stop at night, right?"

"This thing should be mine! I'm feeling really weak lately!"

Han Chen waved his hand with a smile: "When you get to that age, what man doesn't want to be a little more vigorous? Whether you can actually improve it or not is another matter, at least it gives you peace of mind."

As he spoke, he glanced at Gandhi out of the corner of his eye.

Gandhi was staring intently at Guoliang, his eyes so dark they seemed to drip with water, like a knife hidden in its sheath, ready to be drawn and drink blood at any moment.

Han Chen sighed inwardly.

Even he felt a chill run down his spine when he saw that look in her eyes.

But Guoliang was completely oblivious, still picking at the beef slices, making smacking noises with his mouth.

No wonder.

He was cuckolded for five years and his partner didn't even react. How could he have imagined that his lover had already been stolen by his brother?

Little did they know that the man who always smiled and acted like a nice guy had long been tired of sleeping with his wife.

"Gandhi, wouldn't it have been better if you had just backed down sooner?" The black man's mouth was stuffed with yellow throat, making his speech indistinct. "Now everyone outside is laughing at us, the five tigers fighting amongst themselves, isn't it shameful to get out?"

His mouth never stopped moving; even his swallowing was rhythmic.

"The five of us have been friends since we were toddlers, when have we ever fought? It's because of you that we almost ended up with bloodied heads!"

Han Chen simply smiled, remaining expressionless.

Wen Zheng, this opportunist, suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

His greatest skill is reading people's expressions and changing course immediately when the wind is blowing in the wrong direction.

But tonight, the air smelled of rust.

He subtly moved his chair half a foot away from the table, his eyes scanning back and forth like a mouse that had just heard a cat meow.

Gandhi gave a cold laugh and suddenly raised his hand.

"Snapped!"

The chopsticks were slammed hard on the table, making the bowls and plates jump.

"That's right, I was initially dissatisfied with Ah Chen." His gaze was sharp as he swept over Guo Liang and Blackie. "But the first people I went to were the two of you."

"What did you tell me?"

"You won't accept that! You say the three of us teaming up is a sure win!"

"Apart from Ah Chen, Wen Zheng didn't take sides at all. You two—how dare you blame me?"

"Not once, but twice!"

"Twice!"

"You two idiots!"

Wen Zheng suddenly shrank back, his back almost touching the wall, his face turned pale, and his palms were covered in cold sweat.

Guoliang said coldly, "In the affairs of the martial world, it's always the victor who takes all."

"You can't beat Ah-Hsiao, and you can't beat Brother Chen either."

"Following you? That's suicide."

"Who the hell would be willing to die with you?"

The black man nodded repeatedly, agreeing faster than anyone else: "What Guoliang said is exactly what I wanted to say."

Gandhi sneered, his eyes scraping across the table like knives: "I believe Wen Zheng; he's always on the right side."

"You two really think I don't know what you've been doing behind my back?"

Before the words were even finished, the air suddenly froze.

Guoliang and Heigui were both startled, alarm bells ringing in their hearts: something was wrong!

Just as the two were about to get up, the door creaked open.

Sha Qiang and Dibialu walked in, their movements swift and decisive, the muzzle of a gun "click" pointing to their foreheads.

Wen Zheng's pupils contracted, and he sprang up and stumbled backward, almost knocking over a chair.

Han Chen glanced at him, slowly put down his chopsticks and bowl, got up to wash his hands, and water droplets dripped down his knuckles.

He wiped his hands and chuckled, "What are you panicking about?"

Wen Zheng chuckled dryly, "Brother Chen, I haven't done anything to wrong you."

"Neither do we!" Guoliang and Heigui shouted almost simultaneously, their voices trembling.

Han Chen shook the water off his hands, his smile gentle yet chillingly calm: "Ah Xiao has handed over the seat to me."

"Gandhi is here today, and I am officially taking over." "Ah-Xiao is an upper-class man; he looks down on these dirty and tiring jobs in the gang."

"In the past two years, as long as everyone pays their dues, they are free to do whatever they want. I can afford it."

He looked around, and his tone suddenly turned somber: "I'm not as good as Ah Xiao. He's a scholar, and I'm just a hoodlum, a short mule, only fit to wallow in this mud."

"But he doesn't manage things; I do."

"Rules must be established."

Guoliang and Heigui, sweat beading on their foreheads, said in trembling voices, "Brother Chen, we'll follow the rules! Absolutely!"

Han Chen grinned, his fat head and big ears making him look just like the smiling Buddha in the temple: "That would be best."

"I don't ask for much, just one thing—discipline."

"We're into drugs; we risk our lives to make money."

"If discipline collapses, what's the point of even trying?"

He turned to look at Wen Zheng, his tone softening slightly: "Don't be afraid, you know my ways."

Wen Zheng felt relieved, and his breathing finally became easier.

Han Chen's gaze shifted again, landing on Guo Liang and Hei Gui. His smile hadn't faded, but his eyes were already icy: "We worship Guan Yu."

"When you're out in the game, loyalty is everything."

"If you've lost all loyalty, who's going to fight you to the death? Who the hell is going to risk their life for you?"

Guoliang was completely dumbfounded: "Brother Chen—what on earth happened?"

Han Chen remained calm and simply said, "You are the aggrieved party, so you speak."

All eyes turned to Gandhi.

Wen Zheng stood in the corner, his mind buzzing—this was the scene—was Brother Chen avenging Gandhi?

Gandhi slowly pulled out a file folder, took out a stack of photos, and slapped them at Guoliang's face.

Guoliang suddenly roared, "Gandhi! You fucking want to die?"

"Look carefully first!" Gandhi's voice was as cold as iron.

Dibialu slammed the butt of his gun down, pressing it hard on his head.

Guoliang gritted his teeth and picked up the photo. With just one glance, his blood froze instantly. The naked, entangled figures on the bed were clearly him and Gandhi's wife!

"Five years—five years!" Gandhi gritted his teeth. "I treated you like a brother, and you dare lay a hand on my woman?"

"You even made me have two sons because I was cuckolded!"

"If I hadn't done the paternity test, I would have been kept in the dark until the very end!"

Guoliang stared in horror, then abruptly turned and roared at Han Chen, "Han Chen! You betrayed me?!"

"Snapped!"

A hard slap landed on his face, leaving a burning red mark instantly.

Gandhi took a step closer, his eyes gleaming with venom: "What's it to him? I found out myself!"

"You fucking dare to do that—five years of adultery, two bastard kids, do you even deserve it?"

"Go down and keep them company."

As soon as he finished speaking, he snatched the gun from Dibialu and raised his hand—"Bang!"

The bullet pierced his temple, blood splattered, and Guoliang's head lolled to the side before he collapsed on the spot.

The black man trembled all over and screamed, "Gandhi! I didn't touch your wife!"

The gun barrel slowly turned towards him.

Gandhi sneered: "I know you didn't touch it."

"But over the years of our cooperation, how much of my goods have you embezzled?"

"The shipment you mentioned last time that sank into the sea—I found it in your dock warehouse."

"Paying back debts is a matter of course."

"If you don't pay me back, you'll pay with your life."

"Bang!"

Another gunshot rang out, and the black man fell backward, his blood spreading rapidly across the floor.

Gandhi stared coldly at the two corpses. After a moment, he turned around, walked to the table, picked up a bowl, scooped up a large amount of food, and began to eat voraciously, as if he hadn't eaten in ages.

Han Chen sat in the main seat, gnawing on a bull's penis, his face greasy, and said with a grin, "What kind of thing dares to compete with me for a bull's penis?"

Unfortunately, Guoliang will never hear it again.

Wen Zheng stood there, a chill creeping up from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

Two corpses lay on the ground, their blood still warm.

These two big shots are actually able to sit here and eat?

Aren't you afraid of vengeful spirits seeking revenge? Aren't you afraid of opening your eyes in the middle of the night and seeing a ghost crawling on your bed?

But then I thought, so what if I become a ghost?

They were so arrogant when they were alive, why would they be afraid of the cold wind when they're dead?

Once he understood this, Wen Zheng's initial fear dissipated.

He straightened his back, imitating Han Chen and Gandhi, picked up a piece of meat, and chewed it in big bites, even his eyes hardening a bit.

Han Chen ate slowly and deliberately, tapping the rim of his bowl lightly with his chopsticks: "What we do is a business of beheading."

"You can't trust anyone completely."

Gandhi sneered, his voice like a knife scraping through iron: "You're more clear-headed than I am."

I used to trust everyone, and what happened? Two dogs lied to me right under my nose for over five years!

Wen Zheng immediately raised his hand in affirmation: "My lords, I have absolutely no ulterior motives!"

Han Chen grinned, his smile gentle yet sharp: "Let's get straight to the point."

"In our line of work, we're always risking our lives."

"You need a pledge of loyalty."

"If we don't have any leverage over the enemy, who would dare to fight alongside us?"

Both of their gazes were fixed on Wen Zheng's face, their eyes seeming to be able to peel off his skin and pull out his bones.

Wen Zheng felt a chill run down his spine, his hair stood on end, and he quickly raised his hands: "You tell me what to do, I'll handle it! I'll go east if you tell me to!"

West!"

He sensed danger—this was no joke, it meant bloodshed was imminent.

Gandhi said coldly, "In the past, if Ah Chen had said that, I would have definitely slammed my fist on the table and refuted him." "Now I understand that you are right, and I was stupid."

"If you want to eat at the same table, you have to know whether each other's bowls contain human flesh or rice."

"I wouldn't even bother sitting at the same table with trash like Guoliang and Heigui."

"Their lives are my pledge of allegiance."

He turned his gaze to Wen Zheng and said, slowly and deliberately, "You have to pay too."

Cold sweat trickled down Wen Zheng's forehead, but he forced himself to remain calm: "Brother Chen, Brother Di, we've been working together since Uncle Kun's time. You really wouldn't doubt me, would you?"

Gandhi scoffed, "Why not doubt it?"

"I never suspected Guoliang and Blackie back then—look at me now!"

Wen Zheng cursed inwardly: "You being framed and cuckolded only proves you've lost your mind!"

But how could he dare say such a thing? The man in front of him was capable of tearing people apart alive!

He gritted his teeth and made up his mind: "Fine! I'll deal with those two corpses myself!"

Han Chen immediately laughed and patted him on the shoulder: "Did you hear that, Gandhi? I told you Wen Zheng was reliable."

Gan said expressionlessly, "Right now, I don't trust anyone but you."

Han Chen shook his head and sighed softly, "Once bitten by a snake, twice shy."

"But he deserved it." He paused. "As agreed beforehand, Wen Zheng is fine, and we'll split Guo Liang and Hei Gui's territory equally."

Gandhi nodded slightly: "I never break my word."

"I don't have any deep-seated grudge against you. The only thing that bothers me is that you knew perfectly well how disgusting those two beasts were to me, yet you didn't tell me."

o

Han Chen gave him a helpless look: "Dude, can I be blunt? Wouldn't that be adding fuel to the fire? I already hinted at it, but you just didn't react."

Gandhi was silent for a moment, then sighed heavily: "Indeed—"

"What I want is revenge."

"The revenge has been taken, but the rules remain the same."

"The person is now in your hands."

Han Chen nodded slightly: "Let's get together another day."

Gandhi waved his hand, turned and left, his back as cold as ice.

Han Chen turned to Wen Zheng and lowered his voice: "In our line of work, your hands can't be too clean."

"If you don't get your hands dirty, nobody will take you seriously."

"You will personally lead the men to bury those two bodies."

"After this is done, you can choose either Guoliang's or Heigui's territory."

Wen Zheng's heart suddenly raced, and he almost jumped out of his skin!

"Don't worry, Brother Chen, I'll do it myself. I won't delegate it to anyone else!"

Where there's land, there's a stage!

With a large venue, goods can be displayed, and money flows in like water!

Guoliang deserved to die! He seduced his sister-in-law, committing incest and moral depravity!

Black people deserve to die even more! They're double-crossing each other; their behavior is disgusting!

He died at the perfect time; it practically cleared the way for him!

It's as if a golden road has already been laid out before my eyes, with mountains of money and power in my hands!

Han Chen got into his car and went home. He took out his phone, dialed a number, and said in a relaxed tone, as if he were chatting about the weather: "Inspector Liu, a good citizen is calling."

He smiled kindly, like a benevolent god of wealth handing out red envelopes: "Report Gandhi—personally killed Guoliang and the black devil."

"I heard he didn't even spare his wife and children; they were all sent away."

"Wen Zheng disposed of the body, and the gun—it seems—is still in his hand."

"Wishing you a promotion and raise tonight, and continued success in your career."

The phone call ended, but the smile lingered.

Mary, sitting in the passenger seat, widened her eyes: "Guoliang and Blackie are really dead?"

"He's dead." Han Chen leaned back in his chair and recounted the scene that had just unfolded.

Mary's eyes lit up, as if she had seen the climax of the script: "Brother Chen, this is your chance!"

"Tsim Sha Tsui is so small, one noodle shop is enough!"

Han Chen threw his head back and laughed, a laugh that concealed a sharp edge: "My wife understands me best!"

His gaze turned cold, and a sinister smile curved his lips: "I am not Ni Kun."

He set up the "Five Tigers" not because he couldn't conquer the entire noodle market in Tsim Sha Tsui—he had the ability, but he didn't dare.

"Because he's afraid of the police."

"And I—"

"I'm not afraid."

"He deployed five tigers in an attempt to build a wall between himself and the police."

"What a pity! We're just 'fishing for rice noodles,' what kind of firewall do we have? No matter how big the fire is, it can't stop us from rushing in!"

"As long as you're in this line of work, unless you quit like Ah-Xiao, the cops will eventually come after you, stepping on your shadow."

They will find you eventually.

"Since we can't avoid it, why should we let others benefit?"

"Either way, we're dealing with the police; it's just a matter of who has the better methods!"

"Tsim Sha Tsui is such a small place, it can't hold five tigers."

"Gandhi, Guoliang, black devils, Wenzheng—they can all die!"

"For those who want to scoop out rice noodles, one is enough—that's me, Han Chen!"

Mary looked up at Han Chen, her eyes burning with passion.

The man wasn't tall, but in her heart, he was taller than anyone else, like a mountain pressing down on the entire island of Hong Kong.

For him, she would even throw her life into the sea!

"Ah Chen, you still need to be careful," she whispered, her voice full of worry.

Han Chen gently stroked her face with his fingertips, his voice as low as the night wind blowing through an alley: "They must die."

Even if it wasn't for flour, they had to be killed.

Mary's heart skipped a beat: "Why?"

He sighed, a shadow crossing his eyes: "Ah Xiao has never let go of Cha Ni Kun's matter."

"I did it to muddy the waters."

"Once Gandhi and the others have fallen, all that will be left is me, who has always stood by Ah-Xiao's side."

"Then we'll be safe," he said softly, as if he had crawled back from the brink of hell. "Ah-Xiao has the evidence; I'm still one of his 'own people'."

"With all four suspects dead, who can still investigate Ni Kun's case? The leads have dried up, and the case has become a dead end."

Mary lunged at him and kissed him passionately, her lips filled with fervor and adoration.

"Ah Chen, I knew I hadn't misjudged you!"

The two crashed into the depths of the sofa, their breaths mingling, desire surging within them.

On the other end, Liu Jianming hung up the phone and knocked on Cheng Guobin's office door.

"Officer Cheng, my intelligence has just arrived—Wen Zheng has killed two people!"

Hahaha! I'm about to become one of the top three giants in Sha Tsui!

Wen Zheng sat in the driver's seat, his heart pounding like a drum.

In the time it takes to eat one meal, the territory doubled. This meal was worth it! It was fucking worth it!

Recalling what had just happened, he still couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine.

Those two madmen, Gandhi and Han Chen, could still laugh and drink in front of two corpses.

Even Wen Zheng couldn't match that ruthlessness.

The reason he's still alive can be summed up in four words: never show his face.

Don't take sides, don't rush, follow the crowd, and make a fortune quietly.

Show yourself? That's suicide!

Drug lords are not most afraid of the police, but of their fellow drug dealers, especially their own brothers!

Gandhi was amazing, wasn't he? He had the biggest territory, the most money, and a huge following.

But he was the first one to be schemed against!

His wife cheated on him, and his goods were robbed. Who in Tsim Sha Tsui doesn't know this?

Han Chen knew, and Wen Zheng knew too.

But who would say it? Mentioning such a shameful thing is like slapping someone in the face.

If you say that, Gandhi will only think you are mocking him.

Therefore, not standing out is the ironclad rule for survival.

I'd rather earn less than steal the spotlight.

The nail that sticks out gets hammered down; once a person dies, they lose everything.

Look at Ni Kun, look at Guo Liang, look at Hei Gui—aren't they all bloody lessons?

Han Chen wanted him to have blood on his hands? Wen Zheng thought it was just right.

Only when everyone has dirty hands can we sit down as equals and divide the money.

Who would dare to risk their life against an innocent person?

He stuffed Guoliang and Heigui into the trunk; their clothes were already soaked in blood, turning reddish-black.

But he was smiling.

His mouth stretched from ear to ear, and he laughed like a madman.

"My two brothers, thank you so much for bestowing upon me this immense fortune!" He stared at the body bag in the rearview mirror, his tone light as if he were expressing gratitude. "Once I'm settled in, I'll burn two hundred million in paper money for you; you won't be able to spend it all over there!"

He hummed an old Cantonese song and sped onto the highway.

Twenty minutes later, blinding police lights tore through the night.

Liu Jianming and his men surrounded the car, the dark muzzle of a gun pressed directly against his temple.

"Sir, you are suspected of murder. Please get out of the car immediately for inspection!"

Wen Zheng suddenly looked up, roaring like thunder: "You fucking trying to frame me? I'll sue you until you're bankrupt! I'm getting a lawyer!"

"Bang!"

The butt of the gun slammed into his shoulder, sending him crashing into the car door.

Liu Jianming's eyes were as cold as ice, and his voice was completely unwavering: "Your trunk has been dripping blood the whole time."

"Your chest is covered in splattered blood."

"A forensic doctor can tell it's human blood in five minutes."

"Get out of the car, open the trunk—now!"

Wen Zheng froze.

His lips trembled, and he couldn't utter a single word.

He never expected this—

That little bit of blood that leaked out became his own death warrant.

Looking down at his blood-stained clothes, Wen Zheng felt a wave of nausea wash over him, wishing he could turn back time.

If he could do it all over again, he would definitely line the trunk with oil paper! He would never have touched those two corpses!

But now he stood frozen in place, not daring to move.

It's not that I'm afraid of getting dirty.

It's because they're afraid of dying!

Lying in the trunk were two corpses that had died less than an hour ago; they were still warm and dripping blood.

Getting involved in this kind of thing is a recipe for disaster!

His lips twitched, his smile more like a grimace: "Officer—it's all a misunderstanding!"

"A misunderstanding?" Liu Jianming shouted sternly. "Open the trunk and check it out!"

Before he finished speaking, he had already pulled Wen Zheng out of the car.

With a click, the trunk popped open, and in that instant, two or three gun barrels, like venomous snakes spitting their tongues, were pointed at Wen Zheng's temples!

The cold light was chilling; life hung by a thread.

"Inspector Cheng!" Man-cheng's voice trembled, but he suddenly looked up. "We've known each other for a long time, and I'm willing to be a witness for the prosecution! I want to report someone!"

Cheng Guobin sneered, his eyes sharp as knives: "Who you report is not important."

"Let's go back to the police station first, then we can talk slowly."

A flash of silver light, and the handcuffs fell.

Wen Zheng stared at the shackles on his wrists, his heart sinking to the bottom.

It’s over.

Just an hour ago, he was still planning to sit on the throne of the Big Three and enjoy boundless glory.

An hour later, he was a prisoner, and even his attempts to explain were like a dying struggle.

He slowly turned his head, looking at the two familiar corpses in the trunk, his lips barely moving: "You are both my strength and my weakness—"

At that moment, he finally understood—the game was over.

Let's flip the table.

Otherwise, not even a crumb would be left.

Liu Jianming's palms were covered in cold sweat, and his eyes were filled with disdain as he stared at Wen Zheng.

Waste! Utterly useless!