Hong Kong Storm: The King of Jobs

Chapter 780, Section 370: The Little Tail
"There are no fixed formations in warfare, just as water has no fixed shape; do not be trapped by experience."

Peach Blossom Girl dislikes Lighter's attitude, but she can't be too harsh on her supporter; she has to be tolerant of him.

The rules of the Hong Kong workplace are simple: mutual benefit. Bosses do what they do, and juniors do what they do.

Lighter didn't say anything, but nodded. Whatever his boss said was law; all he had to do was nod.

Peach Girl lowered her head, lit the Dunhill cigarette she was holding in her mouth, took a puff, then opened the armrest box, took out a cigar, and tossed it to the lighter.

"This is my dad's favorite cigar, a Havana. Try it, but don't inhale it, it'll make you cough!"

A high-end cigar in Havana costs one or two large gold bulls.

Even when the four chief detectives were around, they couldn't afford to smoke this high-end cigar with a lighter. He quickly bit off the cigarette butt, lit it with a lighter, and began to savor the cigar.

Peach Blossom Girl took out a bottle of mineral water from the armrest box, unscrewed the cap, took a small sip to moisten her throat, and then continued to stare at the entrance of the Sheraton Hotel.

When she saw the handsome guy get into a Range Rover, she quickly released the handbrake and picked up the radio microphone hanging from the air conditioning vent.

"Paparazzi, paparazzi, paparazzi, tigers on the night watch, tigers on the night watch!"

Peach Blossom Girl finished speaking quickly, hung up the microphone, released the handbrake, started the car, and kept her eyes fixed on the Range Rover.

"This is unbelievable! These guys came out to trade this morning, what a joke."

Lighter was also incredulous when he saw the Range Rover drive away.

He cursed under his breath, then fastened his seatbelt and began watching the SUV's trajectory.

Peach Blossom Girl didn't follow immediately. CID training taught that tracking shouldn't involve sticking too close or revealing your hand unless the commander has given an order to force her to stick close.

The detectives from the Criminal Intelligence Bureau's surveillance team were lying in wait at the entrance of the Sheraton Hotel. They were the professionals and would design a professional surveillance plan.

After waiting for three minutes, Peach Blossom Girl slowly drove off and followed at a distance.

"Paparazzi received! Paparazzi received!"

"We've caught up. The tiger is still in the cage. The tiger is still in the cage."

The car radio crackled to life, and Peach Girl picked up the microphone again: "Received. Follow them. Our insider says today could very well be a trading day."

"The case has progressed to this point. Whether everyone can get promoted and make a fortune depends on whether we can catch the big fish today."

The big, clumsy donkey sitting in the command vehicle listened attentively to Peach Blossom Girl's words and said, "Two vehicles in front and behind, and another one waiting. I guarantee there won't be any problems."

"Don't worry! I guarantee you'll have great luck!"

"Little spotted dog, stay close; little black dog, slow down the car; don't let the tiger get away."

"Roger that!"

"Roger that!"

The van directly in front of the Range Rover began to slow down, deliberately blocking the Range Rover's path.

The Fiat following behind deliberately veered two car lengths away, entered the left lane, and remained there.

"Damn it, is that a sucker driving up ahead? It's so damn slow!"

"Beep beep beep beep beep"

The bruised and battered snotty-nosed man slammed his fist on the steering wheel and honked the horn, urging the car in front to move faster.

Sitting in the car, Chi Mengli immediately sensed something was wrong, but since he couldn't figure out who was causing the trouble outside, he remained silent. He picked up the newspaper from the armrest and began reading the gossip.

Seeing that Chi Mengli had stopped smoking, Biao Jin, who was sitting to the side, took out his medicine box and took out one pill from each compartment.

He grabbed a handful of medicine, put it in his palm, and put it all in his mouth. He then opened a bottle of mineral water and rinsed it with water.

(Now, as soon as Ah Xian gets up, he has to take more than ten pills. After taking them, everything goes black, and his good mood completely disappears.)
"Uncle Jin, you can't take money with you when you're born or when you die. You kids are all getting old, and you've all gone to live in London, working as doctors or university professors."

"If you get sick, go see a doctor and live out your days in peace, just like Uncle Gui!"

Chi Mengli put down the newspaper in her hand and looked at Biao Jin's actions with great emotion.

An elderly patient, closing his eyes, may not have a tomorrow; his life has reached its end.

They continue to harm humanity on Earth, causing minor troubles for the human race. This is not another form of humanitarianism.

“Ah Sheng, this path was passed down to me by my boss. He didn’t pass it on to his kid, but to me.”

"The law should not be passed on to six ears, and the way should not be lightly passed on. Even if you want to leave the martial world one day, you should pass on the path you have to the leader, not your own juniors."

“Back then, my boss told me that I shouldn’t be involved in the underworld, but should become a lawyer or a doctor.”

After taking the medicine, Biao Jin felt a bit of pain. He screwed the cap off the mineral water bottle, put it aside, and muttered something to himself.

Everyone has difficulties, and everyone has reasons and motivations for doing things.

Chi Mengli didn't continue speaking, but picked up the newspaper again and continued reading.

The bruised and battered slug rolled down the car window by two fingers' width. The cigarette butt burned the filter between his fingers, making his fingertips recoil, and he quickly popped out of the window.

His gaze remained fixed on the rearview mirror, where the silver-gray Fiat maintained a distance of two car lengths.

The traffic flow was like asphalt melting in the sun, sticking the cars to the asphalt and causing them to crawl slowly.

The slug, noticing something was amiss, had his left hand on the steering wheel of his Range Rover and his right hand holding an unlit cigarette.

He had no interest in lighting it; his gaze remained fixed on the silver-gray Fiat in the rearview mirror.

This Fiat has been following him for three kilometers!

When turning from Nathan Road into Argyle Street in Mong Kok, it hangs about two parking spaces behind it, neither too close nor too far.

When he drove to the intersection of Yau Ma Tei Fire Station Road, he deliberately slammed on the brakes and stopped for a moment. The Fiat following behind also turned on its brake lights.

Even in broad daylight, the lights are blindingly bright.

Now that we're on the West Kowloon Highway approach bridge, the Fiat is still like a piece of chewing gum that won't go away, stuck to the traffic, and even the pace of lane changes is in sync with it.

"what the hell……"

Slug, biting his cigarette holder, tasted the bitter burnt flavor on his tongue. He turned his head to look at Biao Jin in the back seat and said, "Boss, there's a tail behind us!"

Biao Jin nodded, indicating that he understood, and gestured with his eyes for the slug, who was in a very sorry state, to shake off its tail.

The traffic light ahead turned on, and Slug quickly stepped on the gas and continued forward.

That damn white Toyota van right in front of me was still slowly swaying in the middle lane, even slower than the truck next to it, with a yellow sticker on its rear that read "Cargo Transport, Do Not Approach".

Slug frowned, then honked the horn in slight anger. Toyota didn't react; instead, it veered slightly to the left, blocking his path as he tried to overtake.

(End of this chapter)