Hong Kong film: The cop backs down, the ladies beg me to check his license.

He raised his hand, rubbed his forehead vigorously, sighed, as if he understood something: "I get it... You don't actually want to go, you're just afraid that some of you will be 'unreasonable' and really go according to the old almanac to cause trouble for Ye Tian, ​​right?"

The three men nodded quickly, their faces relaxing – the boss had finally grasped the key point.

Wong Bing-yiu waved his hand, his tone resolute: "Don't worry. I'll take responsibility for this. I'll call the Hong Kong Island Regional Headquarters right now and make things clear with Director Lam. Tomorrow, no one is allowed to go to the 'Honest and Responsible Restaurant'! And no one is allowed to touch a hair on Ip Tin's head! Let's see who dares to mess around!"

Chen Xinjian and the other two finally breathed a sigh of relief, and smiles appeared on their faces. They knew Ye Tian's importance, and it was best not to offend him. With Huang Bingyao personally intervening, they should be able to keep him in check.

He saluted and took his leave. The office door closed softly, leaving Huang Bingyao alone once again.

He sat back down in his chair, intending to pack up and leave work, but after that conversation, all sleepiness had vanished. The words "walking heroin" weighed heavily on his heart, making him feel suffocated.

"George... what exactly is this foreigner trying to do?" He muttered to himself, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table. "To pull these kinds of tricks within the police force, to tamper with seized goods... is he really not afraid of dying?"

The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he became. That inexplicable itching sensation returned, like tiny insects crawling gently under his skin. He reached down to his lower back, drew his famous "Gun of Kindness," and rubbed the cool handle against his back. It provided some relief at first, but after a few seconds, the itch seemed to have moved elsewhere, becoming even more unbearable.

He sighed, knowing he was really in deep trouble this time. It was far too difficult for them alone to take on someone of George's caliber.

After much hesitation, he picked up the phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. The dial tone, waiting for the call to connect, sounded particularly clear in the quiet office.

The phone rang five or six times before being answered. Ye Tian's voice came from the other end, slightly hoarse and languid, like someone who had just woken up, but very calm: "Feed?"

"Mr. Ye, I'm sorry to disturb your rest." Huang Bingyao unconsciously sat up a little straighter. "There's something I'd like to ask you about. Please give me your guidance."

"Speak," Ye Tian replied simply and directly.

Huang Bingyao licked his slightly dry lips: "George... did he really come here just to take over the political department? No other... purpose?"

A soft chuckle came from the other end of the phone, as if the caller had anticipated his question. "You suddenly brought him up…it seems that the Ni family's shipment has already been 'moved,' right?"

Huang Bingyao's heart skipped a beat, and his voice grew even deeper: "It really was them! Mr. Ye, you... knew about George's plans all along?"

Ye Tian's voice came through the receiver, carrying a knowing calmness: "George's appointment is obvious. His purpose is not hard to guess. It's nothing more than gathering intelligence, reaping benefits, planting a few spies, supporting the Anglo-Chinese interests here, and incidentally... making things difficult for their future return."

Huang Bingyao couldn't help but grit his teeth and mutter under his breath, "These robbers! They're barely scraping by at home, and they still come here to plunder us!"

Ye Tian laughed, a hint of sarcasm in his voice: "Director Huang, do you think Anglo-American countries are still the 'empire on which the sun never sets' they used to be? They're experiencing severe inflation and are struggling to make ends meet. They can't possibly let go of such a lucrative prize as Hong Kong. Where else would they make money if not here? Over the years, they've probably moved hundreds of billions of dollars out of here. Their appetite will only grow bigger; they practically want to make Hong Kong their permanent cash cow."

Huang Bingyao remained silent, a surge of anger rising in his chest, but he didn't know where to vent it.

Ye Tian paused for a moment, then lowered his voice, adding a touch of mystery: "Director Huang, I know you're on my side, wanting to maintain peace in Hong Kong and not wanting outsiders to cause trouble."

Huang Bingyao's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly laughed it off: "Mr. Ye, what are you saying... What do you mean by 'loyalty'? I'm just a policeman, acting in accordance with the law."

Ye Tian didn't delve into it further, and said casually, "I have some news here that's worth a bit of money, ten million Hong Kong dollars."

Huang Bingyao was startled and quickly said, "Mr. Ye, you must be joking. How could I afford it? You know how little I earn."

"You don't need to pay out of your own pocket." Ye Tian's voice was calm. "The value of this information is naturally understood by those in the know, and there are naturally people willing to pay this price."

"Okamoto's childcare company recently sold three nine-axis high-precision industrial machine tools to the big bear in the north. These machine tools... can make precision parts, and can also process some special 'toys'. Well, figure it out yourself."

Before Huang Bingyao could react, the phone went dead.

Huang Bingyao held the microphone, stunned for a long while, before slowly putting it down. His brow was furrowed, and he unconsciously repeated, "Tuotuotai Company... Nine-axis machine tool... This..."

Suddenly, something occurred to him, and his eyes widened abruptly. A chill ran up his spine, causing him to involuntarily gasp—could George's arrival be related to this matter...?!

---

At almost the same moment, people in different places are experiencing their own mornings.

Inside an abandoned apartment building.

Zhuo Ziqiang slumped onto the cold cement floor, his back against the equally cold wall. His face was expressionless, his eyes fixed on the empty room before him. There was absolutely nothing in the room, not even a scrap of paper; it was as clean as if it had been thoroughly swept by a hundred cleaners.

"Impossible..." His lips moved, his voice dry. "Where's the money? I clearly... left it here."

"1.4 billion... all old banknotes, piled up in half this room..."

He seemed possessed; he suddenly jumped up, staggered out of the building, and ran back and forth through the dilapidated corridors and stairwells of the apartment building, kicking open doors to check each room. Nothing. Nothing at all. He then ran outside again, circling the soon-to-be-demolished building, his eyes scanning every corner like searchlights—he wanted to dig into piles of garbage, behind broken bricks, even rat holes.

Finally, he returned to the room, slid down to the floor against the doorframe, and sat down. Sweat mixed with dust, leaving comical streaks on his face. He confirmed it; it was definitely here, his carefully chosen, supposedly foolproof hiding place for his money.

To be on the safe side, he waited an extra day, hoping to move some of his belongings when people were most tired in the early morning. But when he arrived here full of excitement and anticipation, ready to embrace his lovely, ink-scented "trophies," he was greeted only by a room full of cold air and dust.

Clean. Too clean. So clean it made him uneasy, made him want to vomit.

"Thief...it must be a thief!" Zhuo Zi slammed his fist on the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust. He growled, his eyes bloodshot, "Who?! Which bastard did this?! Don't let me catch you! If I catch you, I'll chop you up and feed you to the dogs!"

His chest heaved violently, and then, suddenly, he collapsed to the ground like a rag doll, burying his face in his arms, his shoulders heaving. At first, it was a suppressed sob, then it turned into a wail, the sound echoing in the empty, dilapidated building, sounding rather tragic.

"My money... I spent so much effort... I prepared for so long... I almost risked my life to get this money!"

"So...so we ended up working for some bastard for nothing?!"

After crying for a while, he raised his head, his face a mess of snot and tears, but his eyes slowly refocused and became fierce. He wiped his face hard with the back of his hand, his teeth grinding together.

"No... we can't just let it go like this."

"If I can kidnap Li Ka-shing once, I can kidnap him again! As for the other rich people... hmph, there are plenty of fat sheep out there!"

"Next time...next time I'll definitely find an even more secluded place! A place where even the King of Heaven himself couldn't find me!"

He spoke to the air, as if swearing, or perhaps cursing: "Don't let me find out who you are... otherwise, I, Zhuo Ziqiang, will never forgive you!"

Having vented his anger, he tried to stand up, supporting himself on the ground. Just then—

brush!brush!brush!