Handong: Sha Li wants political achievements? I'll shut down the entire province.

New York, John F. Kennedy International Airport.

Yan Qingfeng stopped and turned to look at Su Jianxin behind him.

"Those old vampires on Wall Street are in your hands now."

Su Jianxin pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, a sly, roguish smile playing on his lips.

"Don't worry, Mr. Yan, the quantitative system has already been integrated with the US stock market."

A fierce glint, like that of a hungry wolf, flickered in his eyes.

"Within three days, I guarantee I'll squeeze every last drop out of them, down to their underwear."

Yan Qingfeng didn't waste any more words and turned to walk towards a small private plane next to him.

Three hours later, the plane landed in Los Angeles.

A black, bulletproof Cadillac drove out of the airport and headed straight for a dilapidated Chinatown in the suburbs.

Outside the car window, a light rain was falling, and the street scene was gloomy.

"Master Yan, Interpol has already set off."

Shen Pojun gripped the steering wheel and glanced at Yan Qingfeng, who was resting with his eyes closed, in the rearview mirror.

"They're planning to surround that apartment building in ten minutes. Should we speed things up?"

Yan Qingfeng didn't even open his eyes, but only tapped the leather armrest twice.

"No rush, go at the right time, that's how you have more fun."

Meanwhile, in China, at a budget hotel in Jingzhou.

The room was filled with smoke, and the ashtray was piled high with cheap cigarette butts.

Hou Liangping clutched an old, encrypted phone tightly, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

He roared into the phone like a cornered beast driven to the brink of despair.

"You must catch him! This is Handong's last chance!"

On the other end of the phone was the last old acquaintance he met in Interpol.

"Director Hou, the person has been located in Chinatown, Los Angeles."

The familiar voice came through the wailing of police sirens.

"The commando team is on their way and will be able to break down the door in five minutes."

Hou Liangping shuddered as if he had been electrocuted, and tears almost welled up in his eyes.

"Okay! Okay! Don't let him get away!"

He grabbed his hair, a smile that looked more like a grimace spreading across his face.

Ding Yizhen! That's the Achilles' heel of the entire Hantong officialdom!

As long as you get the USB drive hidden in the sole of his shoe, even if Yan Qingfeng has extraordinary abilities, he will be doomed!

The billions of dollars in illicit funds could send the entire Jingzhou Municipal Party Committee to jail, and the Lingxiao Consortium would also get tainted!

"Yan Qingfeng, you think you've already won? I still have a trump card up my sleeve!"

Hou Liangping gritted his teeth and paced back and forth in the cramped room.

Let's switch our focus back to Chinatown in Los Angeles.

The dilapidated tenement building with peeling paint reeked of the sour smell of sewage.

A dark and damp basement.

Ding Yizhen huddled on the moldy single bed, wrapped in a tattered military overcoat whose color was indistinguishable.

He was holding a half-eaten, cold hamburger, the bread slices already covered in a layer of green mold.

"vomit--"

Ding Yizhen took a bite, and her stomach churned violently; she almost vomited bile.

He wiped away his tears, recalling his days as the deputy mayor of Handong.

Back then, we drank Moutai and ate sea cucumbers with every meal, and people bowed and scraped to us wherever we went.

Now look what's happened! He's gone to America to wash dishes, and he still has to hide from gangsters and collect protection money.

"Beep beep—beep beep—"

A faint police siren suddenly sounded from a street corner in the distance.

Ding Yizhen sprang up from the bed like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

"The cops? They're after me?"

He frantically reached for the tattered leather suitcase under the bed, his hands shaking so badly he couldn't even unzip it.

Before he could even pull the suitcase out...

"Bang!"

The rusty security window in the basement was kicked and shattered, frame and glass alike!

Shards of broken glass landed all over Ding Yizhen's face.

A large, thick hand, as strong as an iron clamp, reached through the broken window and grabbed the collar of his military overcoat.

"Ah! Don't kill me! You can have all the money!"

Ding Yizhen was so frightened that his crotch felt hot, and a pale yellow liquid flowed down his trouser leg and onto the ground.

Shen Pojun snorted coldly and, like picking up a chick, forcefully dragged him out of the narrow window frame.

In the back alley, the bulletproof Cadillac sat quietly in the rain.

The back door was open.

Shen Pojun flung Ding Yizhen, who reeked of urine, out of the car door.

Ding Yizhen lay in the mud and water, trembling like a sieve.

He looked up and saw a pair of spotless, handmade custom-made leather shoes standing in front of him.

Looking up from the crisp, tailored trousers, Yan Qingfeng was looking down at him.

"Yan... Yan Qingfeng!"

Ding Yizhen's pupils contracted, and he was so frightened that he scrambled backward.

It's over, Yan Qingfeng has come to silence us personally!

"President Yan! Master Yan! Spare me!"

Ding Yizhen kowtowed repeatedly, his face covered in mud and water.

"I haven't told anyone! I'll just find a bridge hole and hang myself right now, I won't cause you any trouble!"

Yan Qingfeng frowned in disgust and took out a plain black card from the inside pocket of his suit.

With a flick of his wrist, the card floated lightly into the muddy water in front of Ding Yizhen.

"A Swiss bank's anonymous gold card with ten million US dollars in it."

Yan Qingfeng's voice was cold and devoid of any emotion.

"Take this, go to Europe, buy a farm, and live a peaceful and comfortable life for the rest of your days."

Ding Yizhen was stunned, and even forgot to cry.

He stared blankly at the bank card on the ground, his mind completely blank.

You won't kill me? You'll even give me ten million US dollars?

"Buy that little gadget on the sole of your shoe."

Yan Qingfeng took a hot towel from Shen Pojun and wiped his fingers, which had been chilled by the wind and rain.

"Master Yan is so generous! Master Yan is a living bodhisattva!"

Ding Yizhen realized what was happening and was overjoyed.

He hurriedly took off his tattered leather shoes and pried open the hidden compartment in the heel.

He handed over a USB drive that was wrapped tightly in waterproof tape, holding it with both hands.

Yan Qingfeng didn't even touch it; Shen Pojun reached out, took it, and put it into a sealed bag.

"A boat will take you away from the country in ten minutes. Never set foot on Chinese soil again in your lifetime."

Yan Qingfeng coldly uttered a sentence and bent down to get into the Cadillac.

The car door slammed shut.

The luxury car sped through the puddles and disappeared silently into the night of Chinatown.

Just ten minutes later.

"boom!"

Interpol officers forcibly broke down the iron door to the basement using a battering ram.

A fully armed tactical squad rushed into the house with rifles at their feet.

"Clear!"

"Captain, the target is not here, the house is empty!"

The officer leading the team entered the room with a furrowed brow.

The bed was still warm, and the hamburger on the floor was still unfinished.

The person just left.

He raised his flashlight, the beam sweeping across the mottled wall.

Suddenly, everyone's breath caught in their throats.

On the wall, someone had arrogantly spray-painted a dark gold totem in red paint.

That's the exclusive logo of the Lingxiao Consortium.

Across the ocean, at the Jingzhou Express Hotel.

Hou Liangping held up his phone, his face full of anticipation as he waited for good news.

The phone is on.

"Director Hou... I'm sorry, we've come up empty-handed."

The old acquaintance's voice carried a hint of helplessness and apprehension.

"When we broke down the door, the person had already been taken away."

Hou Liangping's smile froze instantly, and his voice suddenly rose.

"How is that possible! You're special forces! Who could snatch someone right under your noses!"

"They're from the Lingxiao Consortium."

A sigh came from the other end of the phone, shattering Hou Liangping's last illusions.

"They left a sign on the wall, which was a blatant warning to us."

"Director Hou, this case is too complicated. Don't contact us again."

"Beep beep beep..."

A cold, dial tone came through the receiver.

Hou Liangping stood frozen in place, as if his bones had been removed.

His proud intelligence network, his desperate last resort.

In front of Yan Qingfeng, he was simply a transparent joke!

"No...this is impossible! Yan Qingfeng isn't human, he's a devil!"

Hou Liangping roared like a madman, raised the encrypted phone in his hand, and smashed it hard against the wall.

Parts flew everywhere, and the battery hit the ground, emitting a plume of black smoke.

He knelt down with a thud, covered his face, and burst into tears.

Despair, a despair that penetrated to the bone, completely shattered his psychological defenses.

Two days later.

A private jet bearing the Lingxiao logo flies smoothly at an altitude of 10,000 meters.

On the luxurious leather sofa inside the cabin, Yan Qingfeng gently swirled the red wine in his glass.

The USB drive, which had been covered in mud, had been cleaned and now lay quietly on the small rosewood table.

Yan Qingfeng picked up the satellite phone next to him and dialed a number.

"Lin Yubing".

A respectful female voice immediately came from the other end of the phone: "Master Yan, what are your orders?"

Yan Qingfeng looked at the sea of ​​clouds outside the window, a cruel smile curling at the corner of his lips.

"I have some local specialties that I brought back from Los Angeles. Someone will come to pick them up when we land."

He swirled the red wine in his glass, the red light reflecting in his deep eyes.

"Take this and go to Kanghua Hospital."

"Send a small gift to Secretary Li, who is lying in the hospital bed, to help him stay alert and refreshed."