Hong Kong variety show: From being bitten by a cockroach to becoming a legend

Chapter 154 left Inspector Deng with a bitter pill to swallow.

With a creaking sound, the two men gripped each other tightly, their knuckles cracking.

Song Zhaowen's strength is five times that of an ordinary person.

Deng Weitao was clearly at a disadvantage; his face turned a deep purplish-red.

This guy, for the sake of saving face, just kept quiet and endured it.

Song Zhaowen leaned closer, almost whispering in Deng Weitao's ear, his tone icy: "But tomorrow's matter is no small thing; if one bill of that hundred million in cash is missing on the way—it's not just me, Song Zhaowen, who loses face, but also Hengsheng Bank's reputation built over thousands of years. More importantly, it's your West Kowloon Police Station, and you, Deng Sir, your future. So, Deng Sir, let's just consider those past minor squabbles as chalk marks, erased. Tomorrow, I expect to see a professional..."

"Dear Sir, you're incredibly responsible and meticulous. I'm a man of principle, clear about what I owe and what I owe. If things go well, I'll naturally reward my friends, but if something goes wrong—"

As the tension between the two men escalated, their grip tightening and Deng Weitao's face turning from a liverish to a purplish-black, even the slow-witted Ye Yongchang noticed something was amiss. He quickly stepped forward with a forced laugh, trying to separate them: "Hey, Mr. Song, Inspector Deng, we're all on the same side, all working for the mission's success tomorrow. Let's talk this out, let's talk this out!"

Song Zhaowen glanced at Ye Yongchang, then seemed to realize he had used too much force. He suddenly loosened his grip, his nonchalant smile returning to his face: "Oh dear, sorry, Officer Deng, I get a little carried away when I get excited. Did I hurt you?"

Deng Weitao felt a piercing, numb, and painful ache in his right hand, as if his finger bones were about to crack. He forced himself not to rub it, and instead put it behind his back, his fingers trembling slightly uncontrollably. Fine beads of cold sweat appeared on his forehead, half from pain and half from anger. But he knew he couldn't let it out now.

"No—it's nothing." Deng Weitao squeezed out two words through gritted teeth, his voice trembling slightly.

"It's good that everything is alright." Song Zhaowen nodded, as if the previous covert contest was just a minor incident. He turned to Ye Rongtian and Ye Yongchang, his tone relaxed: "Rongtian, Brother Chang, please double-check the specific handover time, location, route, and emergency plan with Inspector Deng. As for me, Ah Xiao will lead a team of brothers to the handover point to cooperate with the police."

Ye Rongtian nodded: "Don't worry, Brother Wen, we will confirm every detail with Inspector Deng."

Ye Yongchang quickly chimed in, "Yes, yes, we'll make sure everything goes perfectly!"

Song Zhaowen glanced one last time at Deng Weitao, whose face was still pale, and said meaningfully, "Deng Sir, well then—I'll leave it to you. See you tomorrow."

After saying that, he didn't linger. He nodded to Tony and the others, and surrounded by his men, he turned and strode towards the Mercedes convoy parked not far away.

Deng Weitao stood there, watching Song Zhaowen get into the car and the convoy slowly drive away. Only when the taillights disappeared around the corner of the dock did he suddenly lower his head and look at his right hand, which was still trembling slightly and had turned bluish-purple. An uncontrollable anger mixed with a huge sense of humiliation instantly overwhelmed his fragile rationality.

"Song! Zhao! Wen!" he roared, slamming his fist into the cold metal container next to him with a loud "thud." The bruise on the back of his hand immediately broke open, and blood flowed freely.

"Deng Sir!" The police officers and Ye Yongchang next to him were startled.

"I'm fine!" Deng Weitao gasped for breath, his eyes bloodshot, staring intently in the direction the convoy had disappeared. "Notify all the brothers involved in tomorrow's operation: cancel your rest and get back to the police station. I'm going to review the route and check the equipment tonight. If anything goes wrong tomorrow, I'll be the first to hold him accountable!"

What does it mean to feel stifled? This is what it means to feel stifled.

Being looked down upon and mocked by someone you dislike, yet still having to do things for them.

It's like a husband watching his wife having sex with another man in the bedroom while he can only stand at the door and cheer her on.

As for Song Zhaowen's side?

Given his current status and wealth, offending a mere police chief is no big deal!

Why give Deng Weitao a nice face when you already dislike him?

On the top floor of an unassuming industrial building in Kowloon Tong, Hong Kong, but with a completely renovated interior.

Who would have thought that this top floor housed a futuristic safe room that combined extreme sports training with a high-tech hacking workshop?

The vast space is divided into several areas: one side features a climbing wall covered with specially made soft padding and complex aerial obstacle courses; the other side has several huge curved screens displaying surveillance footage of Hong Kong's main streets; and in the middle is a huge sand table that accurately simulates a street map of Hong Kong.

These decorations alone cost at least ten million Hong Kong dollars!

Some machines are so expensive that you can't even buy them with money.

For example, the surveillance equipment is the same as that used in West Kowloon, and the walls are covered with the same weapons used by the Flying Tigers. These are contraband items, and you simply can't get them without having connections to the highest levels.

Guan Zu was playing with a modified, sleek black pistol in his hand, quickly disassembling and reassembling it, his professionalism no less than that of the elite Flying Tigers members.

"Did you all see clearly? The target is the armored cash transport vehicle entrusted by Hang Seng Bank to the West Kowloon Police Station. The time is 10:00 AM tomorrow; the route is: departing from the Galaxy, passing through Wyndham Street and Garden Road, going up Mount Kellett Road, and finally arriving at the Hang Seng Private Bank vault in Mid-Levels."

"Liang Maisi, give me the specific details," Azu called out.

"Received, Brother Zu." Liang Maisi adjusted his glasses. "Target vehicle model: the latest Mercedes-Benz armored cash transport vehicle from Germany, V8 engine, 13 tons in weight, windows and body capable of withstanding 7.62mm rifle bullets, run-flat tires. Onboard GPS tracking, connected in real-time to the West Kowloon Command Center. The West Kowloon Police Station will arrange one escort motorcycle at the front and one at the rear, but according to their recent duty roster and—some internal communications records I obtained—the PTU will be responsible for the escort the day after tomorrow, led by Senior Sergeant Tang Wai-to."

"Very good." Azu nodded, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

It's more than just good; Liang Maisi's intelligence-gathering ability is even sharper than the police's professional paparazzi.

"Explosive." Azu turned in another direction.

A burly man, his muscles bulging out of his tactical uniform, with a buzz cut and a furious expression on his face, was furiously punching a hanging sandbag, each punch landing with a dull "thump, thump."

He stopped upon hearing this, wiped the sweat from his brow, grinned, and revealed a bloodthirsty smile: "Hey, Brother Zu! No matter how tough the car is, I have a way to flip it over! I've looked at the route. The Majixian Gorge section has many bends and narrow roads, making it easy for escort motorcycles to be outmaneuvered. It's a good place to strike. I've already simulated seven ways to force it to stop."

As he spoke, he walked to a worktable next to him, on which were displayed several strangely shaped pieces of equipment that were not available on the market: a door-breaking tool with a magnetic adsorption device and a miniature cutter, a remotely detonable bomb, and even a few modified smoke grenades and flashbangs.

"Ah Tian." Ah Zu looked towards the climbing wall.

A lean, yet exceptionally agile young man—A-Tian—moved swiftly across the near-vertical rock face like a gecko, relying solely on the strength of his fingers and toes to complete a challenging lateral traverse. Hearing the shout, he gracefully performed a backflip, landing firmly on his feet, without even breaking a sweat.

"Brother Zu, I've already surveyed the aerial view and evacuation route." Ah Tian spoke quickly, with the excitement typical of extreme sports enthusiasts. "From the rooftop of the building next door, we can use a zipline to quickly approach the target area. After successfully securing it, we'll exit from the pre-set B..."

Using the drop in elevation and pre-positioned buffer zones, we could directly airdrop onto another parallel path, where prepared motorcycles were waiting. Throughout the entire process, the ground police couldn't even catch a glimpse of us.

Finally, Azu's gaze fell on Zhou Su, the only female member. She was sitting in front of a complex communication and signal jamming device, adjusting several frequency bands. She had a pretty face, but sharp eyes and equally nimble fingers.

"Zhou Su, are there any problems with the electronic pressing and field communication control?"

Zhou Su looked up and calmly said, "Liang Mais has already obtained some of the signal base station codes for the target area. During the operation, I can temporarily disable civilian communications within a 500-meter radius. The police's dedicated frequency band will be severely interfered with, delaying their ability to call for backup and coordinate. Vehicle GPS will also give incorrect locations. However, the time window is very short, and the interference cannot last too long, otherwise the telecommunications companies and the police technical department will notice the anomaly."

"However, Azu has a hundred million in cash, weighing a full half ton. With our manpower, we probably can't carry it all."

Azu sneered: "Money isn't important! Our goal is the process, the performance, it's about letting those in uniforms..."

Look at those adults who think they're in control! How utterly fragile their so-called order and security are!

"Especially in West Kowloon, I want to make that old bastard Richard, and the entire police station, lose face on live television in front of all the citizens! Let them know that they can't protect anyone."

This handsome mixed-race man, Ah Zu, seemed to harbor deep hatred for Richard, as if they were mortal enemies.

But who knew that Azu was actually Richard's son?

That Superintendent Richard was extremely proud and demanded high standards of himself, even more so than his son, Ah Zu, by a factor of ten.

He was subjected to inhumane military training from a young age.

The original intention was to train a super cop comparable to Chan Ka-kui.

But to everyone's surprise, Ah Zu was incredibly rebellious. His father wanted to train him to be a super cop, so he decided to become a super bandit!

Together with several other thrill-seeking and rebellious rich kids in the city, they form a new generation of criminal gang.

With extremely advanced equipment and skills comparable to professional soldiers, they have committed many major robberies in Hong Kong and Macau in the past six months. However, what is strange is that these people do not care about the valuables. Instead, they like to fight with the cops in the street and then make a graceful escape before being surrounded by the Flying Tigers, leaving the police station embarrassed and losing face!

This time, they've set their sights on the 100 million yuan in cash that Song Zhaowen was sending to Hengsheng.