Hong Kong Storm: The King of Jobs

Chapter 717, Section 307: A Brilliant Idea (Happy National Day!)

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(Having not slept for 24 hours, Ah Xian felt a little dizzy.)
Promotion?

Bai Fengxian hesitated for a moment, then quickly nodded in agreement.

Everyone in the Criminal Intelligence Division knows that alarm clock is a complete idiot.

One piece of firewood can become two. As long as you play a role in the task force, get a personal commendation order, and say a lot of good things about yourself in the report, you're pretty much set.

Of course, Bai Fengxian also needed to do some favors and add Alarm Clock's name to the promotion list.

"I can handle it, but you have to keep your promise!"

After Bai Fengxian finished speaking, she stuffed the empty cart noodles she hadn't eaten into Da Benlu's hand, left her complaint documents behind, and left the apartment.

The big, clumsy donkey, who had been busy all morning, was not full after just one bowl of cart noodles. He did not complain about Bai Fengxian, but continued to eat with his head down.

After Bai Fengxian left, the men who had been watching in the hall all put down their burdens and began to eat, chat, and talk about the unusual things that happened the night before.

The alarm clock chosen by the bosses was unaware that a huge scapegoat was about to be placed on its head.

He was driving, with one of his fellow members from the surveillance team in tow, circling the teahouse where Bald Eagle was having breakfast.

The bald eagle in the teahouse remained calm and composed, sipping tea, watching Cantonese opera on television, and eating chicken feet.

The note the teahouse waiter gave him remained in his pocket without him ever looking at it.

As usual, I sat in the teahouse for two hours, filling my stomach with tea, before getting up to go to the restroom.

Upon entering the restroom, Bald Eagle first locked the door from the inside, then opened all the partition doors. Seeing that no one was inside, he then opened the note that the waiter had given him.

【9345867】

This is a long string of phone numbers. Pager numbers are short, while telephone numbers are long. Of course, the shorter the phone number, the more valuable it is.

Because it was a symbol of wealthy and powerful families, early Hong Kong phone numbers, like car license plates, were four digits.

Once all the four-digit phone numbers have been sent, the order is shuffled before sending out the five-digit phone numbers.

The bald eagle memorized the phone number and then threw the slip of paper with the number on it into the pit.

He loosened his belt, pulled out his gun, and used it to destroy the evidence of the note.

After emptying its bladder completely, the bald eagle pulled down the rope and flushed the paper from the pit into the sewer pipe.

After washing his hands, Bald Eagle left the restroom, went to the teahouse front desk, picked up the phone, and dialed the number he remembered.

"Which one?"

The call went through quickly, and a cold female voice came through the receiver.

The bald eagle, holding the microphone, looked around to make sure no one was paying attention before speaking, "I'm a feed seller, and we have some new stock."

Upon hearing the bald eagle's words, the person on the other end remained silent for a second before slowly replying, "We're short of fresh feed. Send it to the Octagonal Pavilion in Sham Shui Po."

"Ten bags first, then call this number after delivery."

After I finished speaking, there was a busy tone on the receiver; the other end had hung up.

Upon hearing the busy tone, Bald Eagle did not put the microphone back as usual. Instead, he pressed the hang-up button and quickly dialed a number.

"belch"

"Hey! Watson's Ice Cream Shop, how can I help you?"

Bald Eagle certainly wasn't interested in buying ice. This shop was a front; the raw materials they obtained were all stored in this inconspicuous Kowloon City ice shop. Battery, with his legs crossed, was eating peanuts and drinking ice-cold beer, arrogantly letting out a large burp, and nonchalantly introducing his business.

"Hey kid, grab a note and jot this down. Time to get to work! Sham Shui Po, Octagon Pavilion, deliver ten blocks of ice over there."

Bald Eagle certainly remembered the voice of his trusted junior, Battery, and also learned from Battery's voice that he had drunk too much!

So I couldn't help but curse, telling this loser to quickly pull himself together and pass on the hot potato he was holding.

The battery, who had been scolded mercilessly, recognized the bald eagle's voice and quickly put his feet down from the table: "I know, Sham Shui Po, Octagonal Pavilion."

"Ten pieces of ice!"

"Boss, load it onto the truck right away and deliver it on time."

Upon hearing the battery's affirmative reply, Bald Eagle's anger subsided. He gave the battery the phone number the mysterious man had given him, instructing it to call that number to deliver the goods, and then quickly hung up the phone.

After delivering the message, Bald Eagle sat back down, continuing to draw fire while sipping tea, listening to Cantonese opera, and waiting for Da Ye Zai to come and see him.

The battery in the Huasheng Ice Shop muttered "Old bastard!" as he swayed from his chair, put on a thick cotton coat, and went into the ice storage.

Inside the ice storage room, four or five fully equipped operators were pouring water into the molds.

Water entering the mold at a temperature of minus 20 degrees Celsius will begin to freeze on the surface in less than five minutes.

Although the water inside had not yet frozen solid, the operators, working together skillfully, had already disassembled the mold and pushed the nascent ice blocks deeper into the warehouse.

This type of pre-processed ice needs to be frozen in a cold storage for at least ten days to solidify and prevent it from melting easily.

Seafood markets, supermarkets, and other food stalls all need these frozen ice blocks to cool down seafood.

"Battery Bro!"

"Battery Bro, Battery Bro."

As Battery walked down the aisle toward the deepest part of the ice storage, the workers who were unloading ice greeted him.

He merely nodded perfunctorily in response to the battery issue, and walked straight into the innermost part of the ice storage.

He pulled the rope switch to turn on the light, took the key from his belt, opened the roller shutter, and pushed it up forcefully.

Inside this separate warehouse, there are thirty-five large blocks of ice, illuminated by orange lights that create a dazzling display.

Thirty-five round raw materials have been transformed into thirty-five large blocks of ice.

To ensure that the raw materials are not scraped out by the strips, they are directly mixed with water and frozen into large blocks of ice. To prevent them from being mixed up, they are placed directly in a separate warehouse.

The battery walked forward, touched the raw materials that were frozen solid, and smiled smugly.

Even if the cops racked their brains, they would never have imagined that the raw material for making the finest pork had turned into ice.

"Get a few people over here! Ten blocks of ice, load them onto the truck."

"He has no sense of propriety at all. No wonder he's still doing manual labor at his age."

The battery company was very strict, but the operators dared not speak out. In order to keep their jobs, they could only put the ten blocks of ice selected by the boss on a trolley and transport them to the refrigerated truck.

I've been hiding in the Watson Ice Room for almost two weeks now, and my bones are aching.

Finally, an opportunity was found to go out for a stroll, and the battery beamed with joy at the thought.

However, only ten dollars were transported this time, and twenty-five dollars are still left. I don't know how much longer I'll have to stay.

(End of this chapter)