Hong Kong Movie: At the beginning, Big Boss B asked me to draw the death lottery

Chapter 203 This shot will completely eliminate the refugee problem in Hong Kong!
The words of the advisor Su were piercing the nerves of these Vietnamese men.

They knew that historical problems would eventually be resolved.

Over the years, refugees detained in refugee camps have been granted legal status in Hong Kong, giving many Vietnamese people great hope in their desperate situation.

But today that hope has been dashed. Hong Kong Island is getting serious. All the refugees detained in the refugee camps will be repatriated, and not a single one will be left behind!

The barbed wire fence of the Bai Shi refugee camp gleamed coldly in the midday sun. Nguyen Van Hung stood on the roof, watching the convoy approaching in the distance, his fingers unconsciously reaching for the dagger made of a piece of iron at his waist.

He has a scar on his left cheek that runs from his brow bone to his chin. It was because of this scar that he was detained in a refugee camp for ten years!
Back then, he was young and strong, and had a good chance of passing the review, obtaining a temporary residence permit for Hong Kong Island, and then leaving this dark and hopeless refugee camp.

Later, a single sentence from the correctional department officer shattered his illusions—"You don't look like a good person; you need to continue to be observed..."

"Brother Xiong, they're serious this time!"

A thin Vietnamese youth climbed onto the roof, his voice trembling.

Nguyen Van Hung spat and turned to shout to the crowd of compatriots gathered below: "Today they take away our brothers who don't have temporary residence permits, tomorrow it will be our turn!"

Many of our brothers have been unjustly detained here for ten years. Who will pay for our ten years of suffering?

"We can't go back to Vietnam. This is our home. Even if we die, we'll die here!"

An angry roar erupted in the refugee camp as several young men prepared Molotov cocktails—made from salvaged beer bottles and stolen gasoline.

Many of them grew up in refugee camps and had never seen their so-called 'homeland,' only knowing that Hong Kong Island was their only place to live.

Police cars stopped outside the refugee camp gate.

The advisor, Su, got out of the first car, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and continued shouting.

He was followed by more than 20 fully armed police officers, their riot shields gleaming in the sunlight.

"Dear friends!"

The advisor, Su, raised the megaphone, his voice stuttering even more from nervousness.

"We are simply acting in accordance with the law. Those without temporary residence permits must be repatriated; this is the law!"
I'll repeat myself: Hong Kong Island is not your home. Stop your pointless resistance and go back to your own country!

"fart!"

Nguyen Van Hung jumped off the roof, and the crowd automatically made way for him.

He rushed to the front, gripping a dagger in one hand and heading straight for the advisor Su, while starting to rally his troops.

"This is Ho Yiu-chung's lackey. These are the people who are trying every means to force us to leave Hong Kong Island!"

"We're going to die anyway, so even if we die, we must fight back!"

The advisor, Su, took a half step back, his face turning pale.

But remembering Ho Yiu-chung's instructions, he steadied himself and continued to incite these Vietnamese rioters.

"My friend, please...please calm down!"
You need to understand this clearly: not an inch of the land beneath your feet belongs to you…

"Calm down? Are you kidding me!"

Ruan Wenxiong no longer cared about anything else. He had been involved in the riots at Baishi Refugee Camp and knew that the public opinion impact of the riots was their only way out.

Unfortunately, the person who spearheaded their repatriation this time was not someone who cared about public opinion.

The atmosphere in the refugee camp instantly became tense. The police officers unconsciously gripped their batons, while the Vietnamese refugees slowly surrounded them, holding various homemade weapons.

Master Su knew things were about to go wrong, but he continued his biting sarcasm. He wanted to force these Vietnamese guys to attack him so that the security team and the police could clean up the scene with a legitimate reason.

Suddenly, a Molotov cocktail flew out from the crowd and hit the hood of the police car accurately.

boom--

The flames instantly engulfed the police car, signaling a surge of hundreds of refugees toward the police line.

Stones and Molotov cocktails rained down, turning the refugee camp into a battlefield in an instant.

To Su's surprise, Ruan Wenxiong, despite his seemingly boisterous manner, was actually quite restrained.

Aside from implying that the Vietnamese he had instigated had started a riot, he himself had been hiding on the sidelines shouting slogans.

It seems this guy really wants to stay on Hong Kong Island; no wonder he was able to stay in the Pak Shek Refugee Camp for ten years.

Amidst the inferno, various police departments rushed to provide support, with some even deploying water cannons and tear gas in an attempt to control the situation.

Inside Government House, Fat Peng watched as Chen Fang'an walked into his office.

"What did Lu Minghua say?"

Chen Fang'an handed over a newly received report: "The Commissioner of Police has requested the use of live ammunition; refugees have already seriously injured seven police officers!"

Fei Peng couldn't help but sneer: "It's one thing for He Yaozong not to care about public opinion pressure, but can Lu Minghua, the Commissioner of Police, also not care about public opinion pressure?"
"Perfect, I've already added fuel to the fire, so let him use live ammunition for a bloody crackdown!"

Then he picked up the phone and connected to the police department.

"Lu, notify all riot police teams on site that the suppression must be carried out with great force."

This is no small matter. Don't feel pressured. Repatriating these Vietnamese people does not violate the Refugee Convention.

On the other end of the phone, Commissioner of Police Lu Minghua paused for a moment: "Superintendent, if we use live ammunition, I'm afraid public opinion..."

"I'll handle the public opinion."

Fei Peng coldly interrupted him, but in his heart he was thinking - this was He Yaozong's proposal, how could I be the one to take the blame?

If international public opinion can't be suppressed, then he can just "reluctantly" deal with a few of the relevant parties involved. Wouldn't that be exactly what he wanted?

Meanwhile, at his villa on Bijia Mountain, He Yaozong was leisurely enjoying tea.

He showed no sign of nervousness as the television broadcast footage of the refugee camp riots.

"Mr. He, should I... go to the scene and take a look?"

The target practicer cautiously asked, his hands itching to use his skills against these irritable Vietnamese men.

He Yaozong waved his hand: "No need, Master Su can handle it."

He pointed at the television: "Look at those Vietnamese guys, they don't even have decent weapons, what kind of trouble can they possibly cause?"

Just then, He Yaozong's cell phone, which he had left on the sofa, rang.

He Yaozong answered the phone, listened for a few moments, and then a meaningful smile appeared on his face: "Okay, I understand."

After hanging up the phone, he laughed at the shooting ranger next to him and said, "Alright, just as you wished. Get the car ready; I'm going to the White Rock Refugee Camp myself!"

"Mr. He, it's too dangerous over there right now!"

"Danger?"

He Yaozong sneered: "It's precisely because it's dangerous that we have to go. If I don't go, Lu Minghua will be in trouble!"

White Rock Refugee Camp has become a scene of hell on earth.

The burning shacks billowed black smoke, and the white mist of tear gas enveloped the entire area.

The refugees covered their mouths and noses with damp cloths, still making a last-ditch effort to stay on Hong Kong Island.

The situation was out of control, and everyone could no longer remain calm. Seeing that the police were getting serious, Nguyen Van Hung had no choice but to rush to the front, his sleeve already stained with blood.

He had just knocked down a riot police officer and was about to grab the officer's shield when he suddenly heard a sharp whistle.

"Attention all personnel! Final warning! Drop your weapons immediately! Or live ammunition will be used!"

Nguyen Van Hung paused for a moment, then forced himself to remain calm and burst into laughter.

"Who are you trying to scare! They won't dare to fire!"

He raised his iron bar high and shouted in Vietnamese to the refugees gathered around him: "Fellow countrymen, now is the time when we must not back down! We are doomed to die, but only by holding on can we have a glimmer of hope!"

Hiding behind a police van, the clerk Su couldn't help but ask a correctional officer responsible for maintaining order in the refugee camp.

"What is this guy muttering to himself?"

The employee translated Nguyen Van Hung's words to the clerk Su, who couldn't help but frown.

"Brother, based on what he said, we absolutely have to send these Vietnamese guys back...back!"
What compatriots? A bunch of parasites... Enough!

Just as Nguyen Van Hung was urging his men to charge forward, preparing for a final desperate attempt, gunshots rang out.

boom! boom! boom!
After three crisp gunshots, Nguyen Van Hung's body trembled violently.

He looked down at the rapidly spreading bloodstains on his chest, his face filled with disbelief.

They actually fired a shot?

And the first shot hit himself?!
That's impossible! Does Hong Kong really not care about the impact of public opinion? Would they really dare to bloodily suppress these refugees?
Even if they really wanted to suppress them, they shouldn't have shot themselves!

If they kill the ringleader, who will they negotiate with? How will they control these rioting refugees?
The bullet that pierced his body didn't give Nguyen Van Hung much time to think; his consciousness quickly became blurred.

As Nguyen Van Hung slowly fell to the ground with a thud, the surrounding refugees were instantly stunned.

The gunshots seemed to press the pause button on the chaotic scene, and the entire refugee camp suddenly fell into a deathly silence.

Then, screams and cries erupted.

The refugees began to scatter and flee, while riot police took the opportunity to advance and quickly bring the situation under control.

By the time He Yaozong's convoy arrived, the riot had largely subsided. His advisor, Su, still looking shaken, ran over: "Mr...Mr. He, what brings you here? It's too dangerous!"

He Yaozong did not answer, but walked straight to the body covered with a white sheet.

He lifted a corner, looked at Nguyen Van Hung's lifeless face, and then gently covered it again.

"Take a picture of it."

He said to the photographer behind him, "Take more close-ups!"

Then, he walked over to the police officers who were receiving first aid and said loudly, "Thank you for your hard work! Your actions today have upheld the law and order in Hong Kong!"

The police officers looked at each other in surprise, not expecting that this legislator would come in person.

He Yaozong continued, "I have contacted the hospital, and all the injured brothers will receive the best treatment."

Hengyao will allocate special funds to provide at least 50,000 yuan in medical subsidies for each injured police officer!

"leave!"

"Mr. He, why didn't you say so sooner!"

Many of these police officers knew Ho Yiu-chung, and some had even dealt with him before.

Hearing He Yaozong's words, everyone was filled with regret, lamenting that they had been too conservative in their approach.

He paused, looked at Nguyen Van Hung's body, and then spoke to the accompanying reporters.

"Some people choose to violently defy the law, and they must bear the consequences. This is not a racial issue, but a rule of law issue!"

I hereby declare that anyone who comes to Hong Kong Island, regardless of their background, must abide by the laws of Hong Kong Island!

These words were quickly recorded by the accompanying reporters, but the police officers and reporters present, whether they were Chinese or so-called pro-British, all felt a sense of triumph.

The Chinese faction felt that these Vietnamese guys were squeezing out their living space and were parasites that should have been eliminated long ago.

The British faction, on the other hand, believed that these Vietnamese would compete with them for favor with the Westerners, thus indirectly reducing their value as Western-worshipping lackeys in the eyes of the Westerners...

The next day, all the front pages of newspapers in Hong Kong were filled with news of the riots at the Pak Shek refugee camp, but the headlines of different newspapers were completely opposite.

The Oriental Daily News headline read, "Rioters Attack Law Enforcement Officers, Police Forced to Fire in Self-Defense," accompanied by a photo of Nguyen Van Hung charging at police officers with an iron bar.

Ming Pao, on the other hand, used the headline "Refugee Leader Shot Dead, Repatriation Policy Sparks Controversy," and the photo showed a body covered with a white sheet.

In the study at Bijia Mountain, He Yaozong was reading reports from various newspapers.

The advisor, Su, rushed in: "Mr. He, both the BBC and CNN are requesting interviews..."

"reject!"

Without looking up, Ho Yiu-chung said, "Just arrange exclusive interviews with Oriental Daily News and Sing Tao Daily."

"And also, Bahadur Singh from the South Asian union wants to see you."

"What do you want with me?"

"They fear that such a violent conflict will one day...fall on their shoulders..."

He Yaozong then raised his head, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his eyes: "Tell him I don't refuse to be friends with honest people!"

At 8:30 p.m. that evening, He Yaozong met with the Sikh leader again.

Bahadur Singh went straight to the point as soon as he entered: "Mr. Ho, the Vietnamese situation makes us very uneasy."

He Yaozong poured him a cup of tea: "Bahadur, you and I are both sensible people."

Vietnamese refugees are different from you; they are illegal immigrants, while you entered legally!

"But the Hong Kong government's attitude is very clear."

Bahadur clenched his fist: "They won't give us British passports!"

Ho Yiu-chung pushed an envelope over: "Therefore you need to fight for your rights on Hong Kong Island even more. This is the letter of appointment for the 'Hong Kong Island Multicultural Foundation,' you will be the vice president."

However, I hope that before you take over as vice president, you can change your name to one that I can easily pronounce!

Bahadur paused for a moment, then suddenly felt that He Yaozong's words sounded familiar.

"This is?"

"The foundation will fund schools, clinics, and nursing homes in South Asian communities, and of course, it will also help eligible families apply for residency."

Bahadur understood He Yaozong's intention and hesitated, saying, "What my people need is citizenship, not charity..."

"I can't give you citizenship, but I can give you dignity and a good life!"

He Yaozong's voice suddenly turned cold: "Bahadur, you're a smart man. The British are leaving, and you know perfectly well who will call the shots on Hong Kong Island in the future."

What you call citizenship rights, you have to fight for yourself!

The study fell silent for a moment, and finally, Bahadur accepted the envelope.

As he stood up, he bowed to He Yaozong.

"Mr. He, please call me Du Minghua from now on!"

"Smart! I love dealing with smart and honest people like you!"

……

Two days later, while the repatriation work in the Vietnamese refugee camps was still in full swing, in the Governor's House conference room, Fat Peng slammed a document on the table.

"Ho Yiu-chung is really willing to take the blame for the police force. Isn't there anything that can be done to punish him?!"

Chen Fang'an explained cautiously: "The governor, public opinion has already sided with him. Polls show that 65% of citizens support a tough approach to dealing with illegal immigrants!"
No matter how much external pressure there is, Hong Kong's core support base remains solid, so it's unlikely to have much impact on him..."

=Fat Peng loosened his tie and paced back and forth in the room.=

“Now South Asian groups are also starting to waver. Bahadur Singh accepted a position at Ho Yiu Chung’s foundation yesterday…”

"Chen, can you find out exactly how much money He Yaozong's backers are still giving him?!"

Chen Fang'an shook her head helplessly, then cautiously asked, "What instructions have been given from London?"

Fat Peng sneered: "That bunch of idiots in the cabinet only care about the local elections, they don't care at all how chaotic Hong Kong will become!"

He stopped and suddenly asked, "I heard He Yaozong wants to see me?"

"Yes, the appointment time is tomorrow morning at 10:00."

Fat Peng pondered for a moment, then suddenly revealed a strange smile: "Alright, then let's meet. Prepare a draft joint statement, titled 'Hong Kong Island Will Always Be Hong Kong People's Hong Kong Island'!"

The next morning, when Ho Yiu-chung entered the Governor's House meeting room, Fat Peng already had his most professional smile on his face.

The two shook hands and posed for photos, as if their previous rivalry had never existed.

Fei Peng pushed a document over.

“Congressman Ho, regarding the White Rock refugee camp incident, I think we need to send a message of unity to the public.”

He Yaozong quickly glanced at the contents, a slight smile playing on his lips.

The statement emphasized that all residents in Hong Kong, regardless of race, should abide by the law and work together to protect the rights and interests of ethnic minorities, and pledged to improve the welfare of ethnic minorities.

Clearly, Fat Peng always leaves himself room for maneuver. No matter how many setbacks he suffers, he still wants to firmly win over the core support of Hong Kong Island citizens.

“I completely agree with the governor’s view.”

Ho Yiu-chung signed his name: "The rule of law and inclusiveness are among Hong Kong's core values!"

Reporters' flashes went off continuously, capturing this 'harmonious' scene.

No one noticed the cold calculation in the eyes they exchanged.

One week after the joint statement was released, the "Hong Kong Island Multicultural Foundation" under Hengyao Group began large-scale operations.

Schools in South Asian communities received new textbooks and computers, temples and churches received repair funds, and even some small vendors received low-interest loans.

In an Indian restaurant near Kowloon Walled City, old Raj looked at the newspaper report and shook his head with a sigh.

"He Yaozong played this move brilliantly. He wants to get involved in all the basic industries related to the lives of foreigners, such as clothing, food, housing, and transportation. At that time, we foreigners will all depend on him for our lives, and whatever he says or does will naturally be under his control!"

The son, Sanjay, responded calmly: "Father, at least he did something worthwhile."

What have the British given us besides empty promises?

"Silly child!"

Old Raj lowered his voice: "Ho Yiu Chung isn't a philanthropist. He funds schools, then he'll control the curriculum; he helps the Chamber of Commerce, then he'll interfere in their businesses. It's like boiling a frog in slowly heating water!"

Sanjay scoffed: "So what? Father, at least the immediate benefits are there!"

Meanwhile, at Government House, Fat Peng was making an encrypted phone call with London.

"Yes, the situation is under control for the time being, and I will never lose my base of support!"
By the way, if you don't mind, I would like to request the involvement of international media.

Hopefully, London can leverage this Vietnamese refugee repatriation incident to make an issue of Hong Kong's free port status!

"Sir, I'm not crazy, and I won't stand idly by and watch London's interests suffer, but at least for now, we should put on a show and see how these Chinese people respond, right?"

(End of this chapter)