I'm in Detective Conan, and I start with the Grand Theft Auto system.

Although Lin Shen had never actually been involved in organized crime, he had watched plenty of gangster movies.

He's watched all kinds of movies—Hong Kong films, Japanese films, American films, like "Young and Dangerous," "Crows Zero," and "The Godfather."

In short, organized crime is all about who has the bigger fist and who gets to listen to you.

All those so-called rules are utter nonsense.

When it comes to personal gain, they can turn on you in a heartbeat and flip the table without hesitation.

If everyone obediently followed the rules, would it still be called a mafia?

Lin Shen's most cherished belief is this saying: Dignity resides only on the edge of a sword, and truth lies only within the range of a cannon.

Only those with strong fists have the right to speak.

You have more guns, more men, and more firepower, so you're the boss.

If you have nothing, then you deserve to be bullied.

It's simple and brutal, but that's reality.

Therefore, Lin Shen had no intention of engaging in any convoluted schemes or tricks.

Waste of time!

He told Mingmei directly, "Take the hard line."

Upon hearing his plan, Mingmei froze, her face turning as white as a sheet: "This...is this really okay? Isn't it too risky?"

"Don't worry." Lin Shen patted her back, his tone relaxed. "Just do as I say. I guarantee everything will be fine."

Mingmei hesitated for a long time, biting her lips until they turned white, her fingers gripping the hem of her clothes until her knuckles turned white.

But she eventually nodded—she had no choice.

Now that things have come to this, she has no other choice but to trust Lin Shen.

…………

Three days later, at dusk.

Mihua Wharf.

The setting sun painted the sea a golden-red hue, which looked quite beautiful, but the salty, fishy smell on the dock was very unpleasant.

Mingmei drove a white sedan and parked it in the open space in front of Warehouse No. 3 at the dock.

The gin and vodka have arrived.

Gin leaned against a black Porsche 356A, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, a cold smile playing on his lips.

He wore his signature black trench coat, his long silver hair swaying slightly in the sea breeze, making him look like a drawn sword, ready to take a life at any moment.

Vodka stood next to him, as strong as a bear, wearing sunglasses, a cigar between his fingers, and a smug grin on his face.

Akemi took a deep breath and got out of the car.

She walked to the trunk, opened it, and pulled out two large suitcases.

The box landed on the ground with a dull thud, clearly indicating its considerable weight.

"I've brought the one billion yen." Akemi looked up at Gin, her voice as calm as possible. "Where's my sister?"

Gin didn't say anything.

He just sneered, his smile filled with undisguised mockery, as if he were looking at a fool.

Vodka burst out laughing, a rough and unrestrained laugh: "Hahahaha! You stupid woman! You really thought we'd make a deal with you?"

Akemi's expression changed instantly.

Her face turned deathly pale, her lips trembled slightly, and her eyes filled with disbelief and anger: "What...what do you mean? Are you going to break the contract?"

Vodka sneered as he drew his gun, the dark muzzle pointing directly at Akemi: "Of course! We'll take the money, but we won't give you the person!"

These words were like a knife, piercing straight into Mingmei's heart.

She swayed as if she couldn't stand up straight.

Although Lin Shen had told her this would happen, hearing Gin and Vodka say such things still overwhelmed her with a sense of despair like a tsunami.

She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails almost dug into her flesh.

Her eyes reddened, but she stubbornly refused to let the tears fall.

She looked at Gin, gritting her teeth, her voice filled with barely suppressed hatred: "So... you were lying to me from the very beginning?"

Gin finally spoke, his voice as cold as a winter night's wind: "Your sister is very important to the organization; we can't let her leave. Unless she's dead!!"

These words completely extinguished Mingmei's last glimmer of hope.

She remained silent for a few seconds.

Then she laughed.

It was a smile that calmed down after reaching the depths of despair, carrying a resolute tone: "So that's how it is... Fortunately, I didn't come empty-handed."

As she spoke, she suddenly reached out and ripped off her coat.

Underneath the jacket was a black bulletproof vest.

No, it's not a bulletproof vest.

The vest was neatly covered with tubular explosives, and red wires were intertwined like a spider web, with a palm-sized electronic device embedded in the middle, its red indicator light flashing.

Bomb vest.

"In that case, let's all die together." Beneath Akemi's calm voice lay a mad urge to perish together!

Gin's smile froze instantly.

The cigarette in his mouth almost fell out, his pupils suddenly contracted, and he stood motionless as if nailed to the ground.

He always had excellent control over his expressions, but at this moment, a visible crack appeared on his perpetually indifferent face.

He squinted, staring intently at the bomb vest on Akemi's body.

He had a sharp eye and immediately recognized it—it wasn't an ordinary bomb vest; it was equipped with a heart rate monitoring device.

This means that the bomb will detonate immediately once Akemi's heart stops beating.

Shoot her dead? It's useless.

The bomb will explode the moment she is killed.

How many people should hold her down together?

It's no use. If her heart rate suddenly increases to a certain level or stops abruptly, it will still explode.

This is a dead end.

Vodka realized what was happening, and his arrogance vanished instantly.

He took a half step back, his voice trembling slightly: "No...impossible! Those bombs of yours must all be fake! Where did you get so many bombs?!"

"Fake?" Mingmei sneered. "I'll show you, then you'll know."

After saying that, she kicked a suitcase in front of her.

The suitcase slid out and came to a stop right next to Vodka's feet.

Vodka glanced down at the suitcase, then looked up at Akemi, and swallowed hard. He hesitated for a moment, then squatted down and unzipped it.

The moment the box was opened, Vodka froze completely.

A whole box full of bombs.

Tubular, blocky, and duct-bound items were densely packed throughout the suitcase.

Detonators, wires, and timers were arranged neatly, clearly indicating that they were made by professionals.

A rough count reveals at least twenty or thirty of them.

If this box explodes, not only will the three of them be wiped out, but half the dock will be blown to smithereens.

Vodka's legs went weak instantly.

He almost lost his balance and quickly grabbed the Porsche next to him to avoid falling to the ground.

A layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on his forehead, his eyes behind his sunglasses widened like saucers, and his mouth was agape, unable to close for a long time.

"B-Big Brother..." Vodka's voice trembled, and he began to stutter, "This...this woman is insane! She...she wants to take us all down with her!!"

Gin didn't say anything.

He stared intently at the box of bombs, his cheek muscles twitching slightly.

He remained expressionless, but the cigarette he held in his mouth was deformed from being bitten.

He had killed many people and experienced countless life-or-death moments in his life, but never before had he felt like this—having a box of bombs shoved into his face, leaving him without even the courage to draw his gun.

At that moment, all the cards in his hand were useless.

No matter how good he is at fighting or how cunning he is, can he be as powerful as a whole box full of bombs?

Ultimately, he was just a flesh-and-blood human being, easily shattered by an explosion, no different from an ordinary person.

Faced with so many bombs, this so-called experienced top assassin was no different from a stray dog ​​on the roadside!