Hong Kong Storm: The King of Jobs

Chapter 773 (363): Rules Matter in the Martial World (Seeking Monthly Tickets!)
The two warehouses were busy until after 8 p.m.

The container has been completed; the logo, container number, and even the stains and scratches on the original container have all been replicated one-to-one.

A dozen small solar heaters surrounded the container, and four high-powered electric fans were constantly blowing air.

Not only that, but workers were also aging the container by placing several large bags of mixed soil in front of an electric fan, allowing the strong wind from the fan to blow the soil and dust onto the container.

Old Zhou was squatting on the ground, continuously putting powder into a tin bucket. As soon as the powder was poured into the bucket, the water inside began to boil.

Seeing the water begin to boil, he took out a brand-new iron rod from his pocket, stirred it in the tin bucket, and after stirring it a few times, took out the iron rod to check the rust on it.

I kept stirring and checking it for a full three minutes before I stopped.

Old Zhou put on thick leather protective gloves, took out a metal funnel, placed it inside an iron kettle, inserted the iron nozzle, tightened it, stood upwind, and began spraying.

An unknown liquid was sprayed onto the container. This liquid was extremely potent; even a thin layer of it would cause a chemical reaction on the brand-new paint, making it darken and age.

After spraying once, Lao Zhou stopped, took off his mask, and carefully inspected his face. He didn't spray a second time, but waited for an hour.

An hour later, he put on the glass protective mask again and sprayed it once more.

But this time was different from the last. He first adjusted the nozzle, halved the spray volume, and sprayed it again.

The paint continued to age and darken, and the container itself aged from new to old.

The idiot Long, who got up at dawn, was a bit out of sorts. He kept yawning and could only keep himself energized by smoking one cigarette after another.

When he saw that the container was completely worn out, he immediately left warehouse number 58 and went into warehouse number 57.

The warehouse was filled with the pungent smell of chili peppers. The idiot dragon only took one step inside before he immediately perked up.

"Sixth Brother! What are you doing? This is too pungent!"

"cough cough cough cough"

The idiot dragon kept coughing, so he quickly opened the warehouse door to let in fresh air.

The ground was piled high with open cans of chili peppers, and hundreds of plastic buckets filled the entire space.

"Damn it! It's like being tortured!"

The priest, his face flushed, led the idiot dragon to the entrance of warehouse number fifty-seven, took off his mask, gasped for breath, and complained.

"Sixth Brother, it's all set. Can we start loading the cargo?"

Idiot Dragon took out his cigarette case, picked out two cigarettes, and handed one to the priest.

The pastor took the cigarette but didn't light it. Instead, he glanced at the gold Rolex in his hand and, seeing that it was almost time, nodded: "Packaging, are the tin cans all taken care of?"

"They've all arrived!"

Idiot Dragon nodded, then glanced furtively to his left and right before saying, "Sixth Brother, I think there are at least a dozen tons of pork here."

"Several tons of pork, hundreds of millions of Hong Kong dollars, do we want it?"

The idiot dragon drew out a syllable, implying that he could double-cross the other.

If everyone talks about loyalty and righteousness, then shouldn't they engage in shady dealings and make a quick buck?
As long as there's enough money, I'll sell even my own father and mother!
Liquor makes one's face red, gold makes one's heart black!
This principle is timeless!
I fawn over the boss, all for the money. Now that the goods are right in front of me, if I pull this off, I'll never lack money for the rest of my life!
To be honest, the pastor did have this idea. When you're out in the world, you're basically after money.

But the fact that he was assigned to handle such a large shipment shows that the boss, Handsome Sheng, doesn't care about the shipment, or rather, he considers it a hot potato.

The pastor was very sharp-minded. In the quiet of the night, he would reflect on what he had done for his boss, Handsome Winner. This young boss, a top-ranking member of the water company, always thought the worst of people. Would this scoundrel be waiting for him to make a mistake?

Thinking of this, the pastor, who was working, broke out in a cold sweat and gave up his idea of ​​double-crossing him.

Are you short of money?

The pastor did not answer directly, but instead asked a question in return.

Upon hearing the big boss's words, Idiot Dragon paused for a moment, then shook his head somewhat awkwardly.

He's in charge of the construction site now; the construction team doesn't need him to oversee it.

The reason is that the contractors of the construction teams simply can't get projects and can't handle the troubles on the streets. They can solve the problems related to the projects themselves.

These projects were all finalized by Handsome Sheng, and they were all projects for Shanghainese. Handsome Sheng could handle all the troubles from the Municipal Affairs Bureau and the Housing and Construction Bureau.

More importantly, since Liangzai Sheng took on the land reclamation project, all the construction waste generated on the site was transported away and disposed of by Liangzai Sheng's waste disposal company.

As for the troubles of the surrounding villages, Liangzai Sheng also took the initiative to solve them, promising to repair roads in the villages, giving up some of his jobs, and donating a sum of money to the ancestral hall.

Everyone's been appeased, from top to bottom. This idiot Long, who's in charge of overseeing things, just sits in his office listening to the radio and watching TV every day.

Although the work is easy, the monthly salary is not small. In order to secure the next business, the foremen of the construction team also take out half a percent to treat themselves.

The idiot dragon who used to only wear cheap clothes can now wear French four-legged dragon (crocodile).

"My sixth brother took good care of me, and now I've started looking at apartments. I'm not short of money anymore."

"But Sixth Brother, on the other hand, no one would complain about having too much money in their pocket." The idiot dragon, still unwilling to give up, continued to persuade him.

The pastor, smoking a cigarette and looking at the rising moon, said, "Ah Long, one shouldn't be too greedy."

"Once you become greedy, if the heavens find out, they will remember you and punish you."

"Let's do it!"

"One must abide by the rules; otherwise, one will surely go down a bad path."

If it were anyone else, the pastor certainly wouldn't have said anything, and would have instead found an opportunity to give this greedy scoundrel a cement coffin.

But Idiot Lung is a good brother who grew up with him in the housing estate, and one of the Thirteen Protectors of Tsz Wan Temple. If he can save a life, he should lend a hand.

"Ah! What a pity!"

Feeling it was a waste, Idiot Dragon smashed the cigarette butt in his hand on the ground and stomped it out.

Seeing that the idiot dragon remained silent, the priest returned to the van, took out a brown paper bag, and stuffed it into the idiot dragon's arms.

"Now that it's all settled, let the people in the warehouse leave. You do the same. Go to Macau for two days, and when you receive my page, you can come back to Hong Kong."

"Let me make this clear from the start: don't go to casinos!"

After the pastor finished speaking, he turned and went back to warehouse number fifty-seven.

Idiot Dragon looked at the brown paper bag, shook his head unwillingly, and went into warehouse number fifty-eight, intending to send all the workers away.

In a corner unseen by the two, Wei Guo was leaning against a shipping container, smoking. The cigarette butt flickered in the darkness, like a shooting star.

(End of this chapter)