Hong Kong Island: From a small stall to a global supplier

That evening, during dinner, Ah Jie and Ah Ji both frowned when they heard about what had happened that afternoon.

"Brother Yao, he's one of the top ten richest people after all. Aren't you afraid he'll fight you to the death if you humiliate him like this?" Aji said with some concern.

“That’s right. If I had a grudge against him, I should have just found an opportunity to kill him. Keeping a guy like that around makes it hard to sleep,” A-Jie chimed in.

“A few years ago, Hua Gu Long tried to sell underwear like us, and we beat him half to death. Why didn’t you think about killing him then? Later, we fought with Da Tou Sheng, beat him half to death, took over a few of his territories, and drove him out of Tsim Sha Tsui. Why didn’t you think about killing him then?” Wang Yaotang retorted.

“When you’re in the game, it’s all about hitting each other, right? This…this isn’t the same thing.” Ah Jie scratched his head, unsure of what to say.

“There’s no difference. Whether you’re in the underworld or the business world, the core is the same. The Hong Kong market is only so big. You steal my business, I steal yours. When you’re weak, you can still cooperate, but once you reach a certain size, all that’s left is competition. How can we cooperate with ‘Tiao Lin,’ ‘Sing Wo,’ and ‘Yi On’? If we could cooperate, we wouldn’t have destroyed the soft drink factory.” Wang Yaotang tapped his plate with his chopsticks. “Underworld forces like the underworld can solve problems by killing, but in the business world, killing is a last resort. You should avoid it if possible. You can’t possibly kill all your competitors.”

“If I kill Li Xiangjiao today, what will Li, Xu, Zheng, Bao, Guo, Feng and the others think? They might not unite to cause me trouble, but my reputation will be completely ruined. Hong Kong is a small place after all. We should think long-term.”

Ah-Ji and Ah-Jie frowned and pondered, gradually figuring things out. Now, their main identity was not that of gang leaders, but that of businessmen, and they needed to start changing their mindset.

"Ah Xiang, how's the task of collecting information on Hong Kong's sewer network coming along?" Wang Yaotang asked, turning his head.

"Huh? I've been busy with things at Jia Hua lately, so I've left this to my subordinates. Is it urgent?" the four-eyed guy asked, looking up.

“It’s not in a rush.” Wang Yaotang shook his head. “It’s mainly the central area of ​​the island.”

"Why are you looking for the sewer network?" A-Jie asked curiously.

"You'll find out then." Wang Yaotang shook his head. "Old monk, what about your side? Have you found the person yet?"

“Found them, six French mercenaries who were previously fighting as guerrillas in Aqah,” Bissna said.

Do you speak English?

"of course."

"Who contacted you through? Did you show up? Did you leave any clues?" Wang Yaotang asked in a deep voice.

“I didn’t show up. There are mercenary agencies over there. The poor, North Africa, and the Middle East need a lot of mercenaries. It’s impossible for them to go to the door with guns to negotiate business.” Bisna laughed. “You know the situation in the poor right now. Those agencies don’t care who places the order. As long as they get paid, that’s all that matters. Hehe, they don’t dare to investigate too deeply. If they really find something, they’ll be the ones who die.”

Wang Yaotang laughed along, agreeing.

"The money was in cash, small denomination notes exchanged from Oliveira, the source of which is unknown. Anyway, your request was simple. I left a phone number, and I've already contacted the person. What exactly do you want to do?" Bisna asked curiously.

"Kill Shen Bi," Wang Yaotang said in a deep voice.

"Who?"

"I lost it!"

"Are you crazy?"

The four brothers stared at Wang Yaotang in astonishment, never expecting to hear this person's name from his mouth.

Sir Michael Sandberg (nicknamed "Big Boss"): He served in the military in India, the Middle East and Libya in 45. He was discharged from the military in 48 and went to Hong Kong to work at HSBC. He worked in HSBC branches in Singapore and Japan and achieved outstanding results. In 71, he was promoted to General Manager of HSBC.

He was made a Justice of the Peace in 72, received the OBE in 1977, and the CBE in 1982. He was knighted in 1986.

In 1978, he served as a member of the Executive Council, a director of the Hong Kong Jockey Club, a member of the Exchange Fund Advisory Committee, the treasurer of the University of Hong Kong, the vice president of the Institute of Bankers, and a council member of the Hong Kong General Chamber of Commerce.

In 79, he sold all of HSBC's British-owned Hutchison ordinary shares to Cheung Kong Holdings. In 80, he used HK$20 billion to support Mr. Pao's acquisition of a controlling stake in Wharf Holdings. He also recruited Li Xiangjiao and Deng Lianru to the HSBC board of directors.

The current British rebellion and the inability of Northern Ireland to unite the Kingdom's negotiating policy, the "sovereignty for governance" was proposed by Sir Michael Sandberg, which gained the consensus of the British side. With a military background, he publicly stated that "governance must be retained, and surrendering sovereignty is just for show." He himself is the most steadfast representative of the "hardliners".

“How is killing him crazy?” Wang Yaotang smiled and glanced at everyone.

“No… wait a minute.” A-Jie’s expression was strange. “If I remember correctly, just over ten minutes ago you said, ‘In business, killing is the last resort.’ You said we need to take a longer-term view and change our way of thinking. We’re not in the underworld anymore. And now you’re saying we need to get rid of Shen Bi?”

"What conflict is there?" Wang Yaotang smiled and shrugged. "I've never done business with Shen Bi. I've only met him three times, and that was all because of a loan. There's no business conflict, so why should I be expected to use business tactics?"

"Then why did you kill him? He's no ordinary man. If he dies, the Hong Kong government will go crazy," Ah-Jack asked in a deep voice.

“What does it matter to me whether the Hong Kong British government goes crazy or not?” Wang Yaotang sneered. “He, Sir Michael Sandberg, is the big financial backer of Li Xiangjiao and others. Li Xiangjiao’s rapid development in recent years is due to the support of HSBC. Otherwise, what is he?”

"Cheung Kong went public in 72, and then listed in London and Vancouver in the following two years. Before it acquired Hutchison Whampoa in 79, its market value was only a little over HK$7 million. HK$7 million, and that was all from the stock market. Is that a lot?"

"Li Zhaoji's youngest son was born in 71 and named Li Jiacheng. He doesn't respect Li Xiangjiao at all."

"Don't listen to the newspapers' hype about Li Xiangjiao's 'snake swallowing a whale' skills and his ability to 'win big with small' investments, and how he fired the first shot in the acquisition of British capital by Chinese capital. It's all just bragging. The 22% stake in Hutchison Whampoa that Li Xiangjiao acquired for more than 6 million was lent to him by HSBC. Where would he get that much money? The rest are all preferred shares, which are all in the hands of British capital."

"What does 'preferred stock' mean?" A-Jie asked instinctively. "It sounds impressive."

"Preferred shareholders enjoy fixed dividends. For example, if a preferred shareholder holds a company with a 10% dividend rate and a market value of 1 million, they will receive a fixed dividend of 10 million every year. This is unrelated to whether the company is profitable or not. That is to say, even if the company loses money this year, the 1000 million guaranteed profit must still be distributed to them. If the company's profit exceeds 1000%, then they will receive even more."

Wang Yaotang explained: "When a company retains profits to develop the company, it can choose not to distribute dividends to common shareholders, but it must distribute dividends to preferred shareholders first. In addition, when the company goes bankrupt, preferred shareholders have a higher priority in the liquidation than common shareholders. This is what happens when Chinese capital acquires British capital."

"Li Xiangjiao promised to help the British make money and seemingly obtained 22% of the shares, but these shares were actually still pledged to HSBC. It was like HSBC was transferring money from one hand to the other. In other words, the British were like the Japanese, and Li Xiangjiao was like Wang Jingwei, just a tool for accumulating wealth. He was a traitor to the British."

"Then Li Xiangjiao frantically used the media to promote the so-called first shot of Chinese capital, but it was just to raise the stock price, carry out capital operations, and bleed Hong Kong stock investors to HSBC and British capital, while also making money for himself."

"Of course, he made a lot of money with Hutchison Whampoa later and had the ability to repay the more than 6 million loan at any time. He succeeded in getting something for nothing, but British capital is risk-free and makes money steadily. He is a traitor to Britain. Otherwise, why do you think the Hong Kong British government had a good relationship with him?"

"Damn it, that old fox Yanzi, he really is a traitor!" A-Jie cursed in shock. He had previously thought that Wang Yaotang had only made enemies with Li Xiangjiao for money, but now it seemed that he was on the side of justice.

"Li Xiangjiao deserves to die!" Aji said bitterly.

"Let's just kill him!" Awei said through gritted teeth.

“He’s good at disguising himself. I can’t possibly risk my reputation just to get rid of him.” Wang Yaotang shrugged. “Can I explain this to you? Can I explain this to ordinary people? From the perspective of other wealthy people, they don’t care about the issue of traitors.”

"So you want to get rid of Shen Bi and sever the ties between Li Xiangjiao and British capital?" the four-eyed man suddenly said.

Wang Yaotang snapped his fingers. "By the way, Sir Michael Sandberg is the soul of HSBC. HSBC truly rose to prominence under his leadership. He wasn't called the 'Big Boss' for nothing. He's like Genghis Khan, conquering the south and north to build a great empire. While he was alive, he firmly suppressed his arrogant and fierce subordinates, but as soon as he died, internal strife broke out. Similarly, if Sir Michael Sandberg suddenly died, there would be no way to transition power. These people below would fight tooth and nail to compete for the position of HSBC chairman."

"Do you think those people at HSBC are so loyal to the company? It's like when the immortal Jin suddenly died. The various branches below started fighting amongst themselves. They'd sell anything to climb up the ranks. Those who didn't have a chance to rise were even more willing to sell. Money in hand is what really matters."

"At that time, who will care about Li Xiangjiao? Without HSBC's huge financial backing, he'll just be an ordinary real estate businessman. We'll peel him away layer by layer like an onion."

Upon hearing this, the group immediately became excited, "Let's do it, let's take down Shen Bi!"

"Of course, getting rid of Shen Bi can't be related to us, that's why I found an outsider. Just wait and see what happens," Wang Yaotang laughed loudly.

……

Mark Barker, Dominic Bird, and four others got off the plane, shaking their slightly weak legs and muttering curses, "Damn it!"

"What the hell is this place?!"

Why would there be such a place near an airport?

"Is he fucking tired of living?!"

"I fucking dislike this place, not at all!"

This was their first time in Asia. Hong Kong is quite famous in Europe. Just now, during the landing, the plane passed overhead by a tall, dilapidated area that looked like a wasteland. As the plane swooped down, it felt like they were about to crash into it. At that moment, the six of them held their breath, their hearts pounding as if they were about to jump out of their chests.

Hong Kong's Kai Tak Airport is considered a "hellish" challenge among commercial airports.

The runway ends right next to the dense Kowloon Walled City and Victoria Harbour. When landing, aircraft must first fly over Hong Kong Island at a heading of 270 degrees, and then make a sharp 47-degree right turn at an altitude of only 300 meters to precisely align with the runway entrance. This maneuver is known as the "chessboard bend".

In addition to the landing angle, Kai Tak Airport also faces the dual threats of crosswinds and weather. Due to its proximity to the harbor, it is affected by the northeast monsoon all year round, with crosswind speeds reaching more than 50 kilometers per hour. Pilots need to fight the crosswinds while making sharp turns. In addition, Hong Kong's frequent fog, heavy rain and typhoon weather further increases the difficulty of visual landing.

Besides overcoming the challenges of landing angle and weather, the final test is the runway issue.

Kai Tak Airport's runway is only 3390 meters long, ending directly in the sea. Large passenger planes must brake fully immediately after touchdown; even a slight delay could cause them to overshoot the runway. There is absolutely no margin for error. Of course, it's not without its advantages; falling into the sea is better than crashing into a wall.

At least the death process will be slower; every few extra seconds of life is a blessing...

Nobody would believe that the money for building the airport wasn't embezzled!

For flights to Hong Kong, the most experienced captains are required.

The group emerged from the airport with grim expressions. If it weren't for the money, who the hell would come here? Mark swore he'd rather take a boat than a plane back.

At the Ocean View Holiday Hotel, while checking in, Mark rested one hand on the front desk, flashing what he thought was a very handsome smile, his gaze never leaving the clerk's chest. "Beautiful lady, do you have time to go out for a drink tonight?"

"Sorry sir, we don't accept private invitations during working hours," the waiter said with a smile. "Okay," Mark shrugged. "What's the name of the hottest nightclub in Hong Kong with the most beautiful women?"

"Dynasty Nightclub." The waiter smiled brightly. Everyone in the Jiahua Group knew that the boss was dead and the company would eventually fall into Wang Yaotang's hands.

Community organizations are an integral part of Hong Kong people's lives, especially for those at the bottom of society.

"OK, I'll remember this name."

The agreed-upon time to contact them was tomorrow morning. In the evening, they planned to go out and experience the local culture. That's how mercenaries live; they never know when they might die on a mission. So, women and alcohol are indispensable for them before and after each mission.

It was a little after 11 o'clock at the Dynasty Nightclub.

"Bang!" "Bang!"

"Uh--"

The six foreigners were carried out by security and thrown out. They lay on the ground and writhed for a while. Mark rolled over and lay on his back, panting heavily.

After a long while, the six of them got up one after another, glared angrily at the nightclub's door, spat, and left in a very disheveled state.

Damn it, our gang is so rude!
It's just drinking and fighting, a staple of Western nightclubs that everyone loves to watch. The winners receive cheers, and the security guards never interrupt; they only come up afterward to demand compensation.

It's not like they're not going to lose money, yet they still use stun guns. What kind of fighting skills are those? They're just equals in front of stun guns, twitching in pain.

After a few sizzling sounds, all six people were sobered up on the spot.

After being thrown out, the six men didn't think about going back for revenge. Even if they had brought guns, firing them on someone else's turf would be suicide, and they understood that rule.

The idea of ​​finding a beautiful woman to have some fun at night has completely disappeared; my dick is practically frozen.

The next morning around 9 a.m., after calling the phone number left by the employer, I got an address, took the key from under the doormat, opened the door, and immediately saw a videotape on the coffee table.

"Oh my god, what's going on? Why are you being so mysterious?"

"I have a bad feeling, this mission is definitely going to be a huge mess!"

"Nonsense, we can't even earn $10 in two months working in poor Afghanistan. This time, the employer just wants to kill a target and is even providing weapons and ammunition. Rich people are all stingy; money isn't that easy to earn."

As instructed by the employer, I turned on the TV and VCR, inserted the videotape, and after a period of static, the screen showed a dimly lit, empty room with only a high-backed office chair.

The boss's chair spun around, and a man wearing a plaid suit, legs crossed, a golden Zorro mask, and a cigar in his mouth appeared.

"Wow!" Mark's eyes widened. What a cool entrance! Is this his employer?

"Welcome to Hong Kong Island. I hope last night's events didn't make you feel too uncomfortable. Hong Kong people are very hospitable, they just communicate in a more subtle way," Wang Yaotang said with a smile.

"Fuck, he's following us!" the men exclaimed. Mercenaries who had come from the battlefield were taken down by a few nightclub security guards. Damn, how embarrassing.

"Alright, now let me tell you about our mission. I need you to help me take out a man named Michael Thunberg, a British man who is the general manager of a bank."

The television screen shifted to show a portrait of Shen Bi, then the image shrunk to the left, accompanied by Wang Yaotang's introduction. Next to it, Shen Bi's personal information appeared like bullets, including his daily commute route, the vehicle he used, and the security personnel around him.

Finally, a large, blood-red X was thrown at Sim Pil's portrait, and the portrait changed from color to black and white.

Sir Michael Sandberg was the head of HSBC and chairman of the board, but he did not own any shares in HSBC. He was just a professional manager with little personal wealth. His security detail was arranged by HSBC and consisted of only two people, one of whom also served as a driver.

Everyone pursues different personal values. Sir Michael Sandberg enjoyed the sense of accomplishment that came from leading Hong Kong's economic development, while money was just a side benefit.

"Wow, wow, my God!" Dominic slapped the sofa, very excited. "This is the most classy job I've ever taken on, bar none. I fucking love this employer."

"I like it too. Compared to this, the American mission is fucking garbage and should be thrown into the sewer."

The scene shifts, and Wang Yaotang reappears, a cigar between his fingers, pointing at the six people. "I'm a generous employer, so you can get half of the commission right now, right here in the bedroom. Of course, that also includes weapons and information. If you want anything to eat, just call anytime, and someone will deliver it to your door. I hope to hear good news soon."

*Snap*, the screen went black, followed by a flurry of static.

"Let's go over and have a look."

The group went to the next bedroom, where a large leather suitcase was placed on the bed. When they opened it, the suitcase was full of weapons.

AR-15 16-inch barrel carbine: 6
STANAG Magazine 30 Hairstyle: Quantity 12
Belgian SS109 (7 grains) steel-core 5.56 NATO ammunition: 500 rounds (bulk packaging)

British L9A1 smoke grenades: 3

British L10A1/CS rounds: 3

British L2A2 fragmentation grenade: 3

Walkie-talkies: 3

"Fuck Fuck!"

Is this some kind of urban warfare plan?

Looking at the Belgian SS109 (7 grains) steel-core bullets in the ammunition box, the men exchanged bewildered glances. These bullets could be used as armor-piercing rounds. This equipment was too luxurious; this box of bullets alone was worth $5000. At least they wouldn't use these on the battlefield in Afghanistan.

There's no other reason than that they couldn't afford it. In the 80s, mercenaries in Western Europe earned between $2000 and $3000 a month. Using steel-core bullets, their monthly salary wouldn't even cover the cost of bullets.

Dominic shoved the bullets into the magazine with a click, laughing as he said, "As long as the target isn't driving an armored vehicle to work, he's dead meat!"

Six guns were laid out on the bed, and the box was almost empty. Lifting a layer of insulating canvas revealed neatly stacked small bags. Mark reached out and grabbed a stack, rubbing it in his hand. It was a stack of $20 bills, $2000 in total. There was another layer at the bottom of the box, totaling $50000.

The group went wild with joy. What are guns and bullets compared to the allure of US dollars!
They grabbed several stacks of dollars, removed the rubber bands, tossed them into the air, tilted their heads back, opened their arms, and felt the dollars raining down, shouting excitedly.

Next door, Hai Dazhao rolled his eyes and kicked the wall several times, yelling, "What the hell are you yelling about?!"

The thumping sound immediately put the six men on edge. The room was full of weapons; if they were discovered...

They didn't think that this little bit of equipment could stand up to the police.

Mark clapped his hands lightly to draw their attention. "Quiet down, guys. We can do whatever we want back in France, but we'd better keep quiet for now. Damn it, I suddenly feel like this place is no safer than Apocalypse."

The group went to pick up the scattered US dollars on the ground. Mark reached under the money and picked up the brown paper bag. When he opened it, he found several large half-body photos of the target from different angles, as well as an English map. The map had a route marked with a red line, and different parts of the route were marked with numbers 1, 2, 3...

What do you mean?
Mark picked up the brown paper bag and shook it; a piece of paper and a car key fluttered out.

1：目标住宅，每天早上出发时间在6:50——7:10
2：根据路况不同，目标车辆抵达这里时间在7:00——7：20
3: Congested road sections during morning rush hour.

4: Pre-determine ambush location.

5/6/7: There is a car parked in each car, and the key is in the car. It is for retreat. You can choose whichever you prefer, but it is recommended to follow the green route for the highest safety.

8: There are red signs by the roadside and a speedboat moored by the sea. It is recommended to discard your weapons halfway and return to point 9 to go ashore, then return to the hotel and treat yourself as a tourist.

9: Login locations.

(PS1: There is a black mask and tactical gloves in the suitcase. It is recommended to bring them and try not to reveal your race.)
(PS2: A black Ford with license plate AB825 will be parked downstairs tomorrow morning for use. The walkie-talkie channel has been tuned. After entering the designated ambush location, someone will report the target's movements in real time.)

(PS3: Finally, best of luck!)

The six people huddled together, their expressions quite strange after watching.

"Is this fucking not a military action plan? This is way too detailed."

"Are employers all this professional now? Then what are we here for? Are we short of someone to pull the trigger?"

"Putting all that aside for now, I'm really curious, what would happen if we took the money and ran away now?"

"Fuck, you'd better give up that damn idea. I bet there are at least a few eyes watching us right now, maybe even snipers, who knows."

"So why doesn't he do it himself?"

"The employer is obviously a big shot. He's afraid of being exposed. Maybe he and the target have a very good relationship on the surface, like brothers."

"Alright, guys," Mark clapped his hands. "I think if you keep talking like this, we might not get back to Frank alive. We're mercenaries. Mercenaries don't need to know why, they just do what they're paid for. So put away your damn curiosity, think about what to eat, and get some rest, okay!"

"OK, can I order a French meal?"

"I'd rather have some Chinese food. Chinese food in France is fucking expensive; it might be cheaper here..." (End of Chapter)