Villain? No, I'll catch up with the protagonist after passing the civil service exam.

A dull, loud bang.

The gilded plaque bearing the name "Yamaguchi-gumi," hanging on a bustling street in Tokyo and symbolizing the supreme power of the underworld, was kicked away by Zhao Tiezhu without any mercy.

The heavy solid wood plaque tumbled twice in mid-air before crashing heavily onto the dusty cement floor.

The hard wood shattered instantly, scattering wood chips all over the ground.

Watanabe Ichiro stared intently at the shattered plaque.

His face, already pale from the loss of his arm, turned ashen, and his turbid pupils trembled violently.

His underground empire, along with the "legal yakuza" rules tacitly approved by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, collapsed completely at this moment.

"Click—"

The silver police handcuffs, with their cold metallic texture, ruthlessly locked his only remaining wrist.

The other end of the handcuffs was neatly and cleanly cuffed to a mottled lamppost.

Watanabe Ichiro's withered lips trembled, and a hoarse, gurgling sound escaped his throat.

"This is impossible... We are a legally registered corporation; you can't do this!"

Lu Jingyan, hands in his pockets, calmly stepped over the shattered plaque.

The man's leather shoes made a chilling sound as they ground against the sawdust.

He looked down at the once arrogant gang leader, his eyes showing not a ripple of emotion.

"A legal entity?"

A faint hint of sarcasm curled at the corner of Lu Jingyan's lips.

"Ninety percent of the more than two thousand shops under your name are suspected of tax evasion and illegal fundraising."

"The remaining 10% can't even produce the most basic health permit."

Lu Jingyan turned to look at Su Xiaoxiao, his voice as cold as frost.

"Xiaoxiao, pull up all the files of their senior executives."

Su Xiaoxiao immediately grabbed her tactical tablet and moved closer, the screen displaying a dense stream of data flashing rapidly.

"Captain Lu, we've got it all figured out!"

The girl's crisp voice rang out loudly in the deathly silent street.

"These people don't even have junior high school diplomas; they're all survivors of the nine-year compulsory education system."

"In the job market, they'd all be considered completely ignorant of the law, only fit for manual labor!"

Upon hearing the words "legal illiterate," Watanabe Ichiro's eye twitched nervously.

He, the head of the Yamaguchi-gumi, was actually pinned to the ground and brutally humiliated by a teenage girl with his academic qualifications.

Lu Jingyan nodded slightly, a glint of absolute rational judgment flashing in his deep black eyes.

"Since they lack education and have been deprived of the means to illegally amass wealth."

The man's words carried the weight of law, like an invisible giant net that tightly enveloped all those in black suits present.

"Then get out on the streets and go to do labor reform so you can earn your own legal living expenses."

Bruce pushed up his black-rimmed glasses, the red light on his body camera flashing continuously.

The Dark Knight was taking notes in his notebook with a serious expression.

"Sir, strip criminals of their illegal social status and force them to integrate into the lower-level labor market."

"This is indeed a perfect sociological experiment to dismantle organized crime at its root."

Zhao Tiezhu, holding a Gatling gun, grinned, revealing a set of white teeth.

"The station chief's move is brilliant! Making these street thugs who only know how to fight with knives work is worse than killing them!"

three days later.

A bustling intersection outside Kabukicho in Shinjuku Ward, Tokyo.

The dazzling neon signs shimmered in the night, and the air was filled with the mixed smells of cheap perfume and street food.

A long queue had formed in front of a simple takoyaki stall.

The stall owner was a thin, old man wearing a wrinkled apron.

His left sleeve was empty, and his right hand was missing a section of his little finger as he awkwardly held two long bamboo skewers.

Ichiro Watanabe, who once commanded respect in the underworld, was now sweating profusely as he tossed and turned the batter on the hot plate.

Scalding hot oil splattered on his wrinkled face, burning him so much that he winced, but he didn't dare stop wiping it off.

Because right next to the stall were two burly Tokyo local city management officers.

"Hey! Old man, hurry up!"

A young customer with dyed blond hair impatiently banged on the metal countertop.

"I've been waiting for ten minutes! Did you even put octopus in your takoyaki?"

Watanabe Ichiro instinctively reached for the katana at his waist.

But when he reached out, he found nothing but the greasy apron pocket.

A tear of humiliation flashed in his cloudy eyes, and he could only grit his teeth and force out a fawning smile.

"Please wait a moment, sir, it will be ready soon!"

This was just a psychological game that lasted only a second.

Watanabe Ichiro's mind was filled with countless cruel images of scalding hot dough being poured on customers' faces.

But when he caught a glimpse of the tall figure in a black police uniform at the street corner, all his violence vanished instantly.

Lu Jingyan's eyes, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, were like the Sword of Damocles hanging over his head.

If he dares to have even the slightest wicked thought, that Chinese policeman will definitely teach him a lesson using the "Public Security Administration Punishment Law".

"Your takoyaki will cost 500 yen."

With trembling hands, Watanabe Ichiro used his remaining four fingers to hand over the packaged cardboard box.

The customer dropped a 1,000 yen bill, grabbed the bag, and left.

Watanabe Ichiro frantically pulled a handful of change from his apron and counted it for a long time under the dim streetlights.

"Sir, here's your change!"

He had just handed over the money when the blond-haired youth suddenly stopped in his tracks.

The young man looked down and counted the coins in his hand; his face instantly darkened.

"Four hundred and ninety-eight yen? You old bastard, how dare you shortchange me two yen?"

Watanabe Ichiro's mind went blank, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

"It's a misunderstanding! It's a misunderstanding!"

"My eyes are blurry, I couldn't see the denomination of the coin!"

Upon hearing this, the Tokyo city management officer standing nearby immediately widened his eyes and drew his rubber baton from his waist.

"Well, you unlicensed street vendor, how dare you cheat me on weights and measures?"

"According to market management regulations, you are suspected of defrauding consumers! Your stall is being confiscated!"

Watanabe Ichiro was terrified.

This stall was his livelihood, bought by mortgaging his last Rolex watch!

If he loses it, he won't even have money to buy steamed buns tomorrow!

"Don't arrest me! I'll fix it! I'll fix it right away!"

The former underworld boss completely broke down, and he started running wildly, pushing his takoyaki cart.

"Stop! You old liar, don't run away!"

Two city management officers, wielding rubber batons, launched a frantic chase after Watanabe Ichiro in the crowded streets of Shinjuku.

The batter from the hot plate was splattered all over the street, drawing gasps from passersby.

Lu Jingyan stood quietly at the street corner, watching this absurd yet highly realistic scene.

He held a steaming box of takoyaki in his slender fingers, slowly picking one up with a bamboo skewer.

Su Xiaoxiao stood beside him, holding a cup of milk tea and laughing heartily.

"Captain Lu, that was a brilliant move."

"The dignified leader of the Yamaguchi-gumi was chased all over the street by the urban management officers because of two yuan."

"If this video were posted on the dark web, it would probably make the entire underworld laugh their heads off."

Lu Jingyan took a small bite of the takoyaki, and the rich sauce burst in her mouth.

He chewed slowly, and every subtle expression revealed extreme rationality and composure.

"This isn't just brilliant; it's about stripping away the added value of crime."

The man's cool voice sounded particularly clear in the bustling street.

"When criminals lose the aura that instills fear in ordinary people."

"They don't even have the basic skills to survive in this society."

Zhao Tiezhu came over, grabbed a takoyaki with his thick fingers, and stuffed it into his mouth, slurping it up because it was so hot.

"Hmm... the director is right! This old guy's skills are really not bad."

"He looks much better with a samurai sword than when he does!"

Bruce crossed his arms and scanned the surrounding crowd with his deep gaze.

"However, there are still many hidden dangers in the security situation here."

"Sir, shouldn't our next step be to conduct a comprehensive review of those legalized gray-market industries?"

Lu Jingyan did not answer directly, but instead looked up at the traditional hot spring hotel next to him with red lanterns hanging on it.

The hotel's wooden signboard swayed gently in the night breeze, exuding a unique Japanese tranquility.

Lu Jingyan pushed up his non-existent glasses, a fleeting, pale blue light flashing in his eyes.

His keen hearing had already detected an unusual sound wave vibration in the air.

At 0.1 seconds, the frequency of the sound waves began to rise sharply.

At 0.3 seconds, a dull thud came from the camphor tree door on the second floor of the hotel, as if a heavy object had fallen to the ground.

At 0.5 seconds, a faint smell of blood drifted into the bustling street through the ventilation vent.

Lu Jingyan stopped eating takoyaki.

He casually tossed the cardboard box into the trash can, a scrutinizing look in his eyes.

"Tiezhu, get ready to work, and put on the warning tape."

He had barely finished speaking.

"Ah—! Murder!"

A high-pitched, terrified soprano voice instantly ripped apart the hustle and bustle of Shinjuku streets.

Zhao Tiezhu picked up the Gatling gun and cursed, "Damn it, how come you can run into a murder case just by eating a meal here!"

Just as Lu Jingyan was eating takoyaki, a scream suddenly came from the hot spring inn next door. A primary school student wearing black-rimmed glasses and a blue suit squeezed through the crowd.