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

The night market streets are filled with the smoke of cooking oil. The exhaust fans at the barbecue stalls are whirring, and the air is filled with the aroma of cumin and sizzling lamb.

"Sizzle—"

A large bunch of neatly cut square skewers of lamb were slapped onto the glowing red charcoal grill. The fat, heated by the heat, dripped down the wire mesh. Flames suddenly leaped up half a meter high.

Liu Biao stood behind the oven.

He was wearing a tattered canvas apron whose original color was no longer discernible. A white towel, long since blackened, was draped around his neck.

He held a handful of bamboo skewers in one hand, flipping the meat skewers rapidly with a strong wrist. With his other hand, he grabbed a spice jar and generously sprinkled chili powder onto the skewers.

The firelight illuminated his fleshy face, from which beads of sweat streamed down.

"Old Liu! Why hasn't my grilled eggplant arrived yet? I've been waiting forever!"

Not far away, several shirtless men were banging beer bottles around a low table, urging each other to hurry.

"Hey! Here it comes! The minced garlic will be ready soon, guys, have some first!"

Liu Biao responded in his hoarse voice. His face was wrinkled and he wore a forced, apologetic smile.

He hastily wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel.

The smoke made his eyes sting, and he blinked hard twice.

Who would have thought.

This chubby man, bowing and scraping amidst the charcoal ash and cooking fumes, was five years ago the "Living Yama," a notorious gangster boss in Xicheng District, known for his machete and the hundred or so henchmen who cleared the streets.

Ever since I spent a few years inside operating a sewing machine, and was terrified by that ancestor named Lu Jingyan, I've been working my magic.

After he got out, he lost all his savings, so he scraped together the money to set up this stall.

Although I get blackened like charcoal every day and my back aches from exhaustion.

But this money is earned honestly. I don't have to hide a knife under my pillow at night, and I don't have to tremble when I hear a police siren.

"Boss, two cases of beer, please. Iced."

A slightly dry sound suddenly rang out from directly in front of the oven. The voice sounded a bit out of place amidst the sounds of people playing drinking games.

Liu Biao didn't even look up.

"Okay. The freezer is on the left, please help yourself. What kind of meat skewers would you like?"

There was no response from the other side.

The only sound was the click of a lighter's grinding wheel. An expensive cigar aroma, not belonging to this place, forcefully cut into the fragrance of cumin.

Liu Biao's hand, which was flipping the meat skewers, paused.

His eyelids twitched twice. He looked up.

Four people were standing in front of the oven at some point.

They were all dressed in black suits. Their leather shoes were polished to a shine, without a speck of mud or water on them.

Late at night, all four men were wearing black sunglasses. They stood like four somber pillars in the bustling night market.

The one leading the group had a buzz cut. He had a scar on his left cheek that ran from the corner of his eye down to his chin.

He was stuffing a silver windproof lighter back into his suit pocket, exhaling a bluish-gray smoke ring.

The diners at the surrounding tables eating barbecue unconsciously lowered their voices.

A few street thugs glanced at the scene out of the corner of their eyes, quickly threw down their cigarettes, paid their bill, and hurriedly slipped away.

Liu Biao's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

He knew that smell all too well. It was the murderous aura of someone who had taken lives and tasted the blood of a knife.

He placed the bamboo skewers in his hand into the iron plate.

He rubbed his hands vigorously on his greasy apron, forcing a憨厚 (honest and simple) smile.

"Gentlemen, what would you like to eat?"

Liu Biao stepped out of the oven and casually pulled over two red plastic stools. "Our lamb here is fresh, and the grilled oysters are big too."

The man with the crew cut didn't look at the stool.

He took off his sunglasses, revealing a pair of sinister, slanted eyes. His gaze, like a cold snake, traced a circle over the tattoos on Liu Biao's thick arms and neck.

"Liu Biao, the Living Yama."

The man with the buzz cut spoke. His voice was very low, but it could be heard clearly in the noisy street.

Liu Biao slipped.

Its massive body swayed and nearly crashed into the condiment truck next to it.

The fat on his face twitched unnaturally. His dry, shriveled lips moved slightly.

"You've mistaken me for someone else, boss."

Liu Biao waved his hands repeatedly, his voice trembling slightly.

"There's no King of Hell here. My name is Liu Jianguo. The neighbors all call me Old Liu. I'm just a barbecue vendor."

He didn't want to cause trouble.

The articles of the Public Security Administration Punishment Law are still firmly etched in his mind.

The man with the buzz cut, holding a cigar, took a step forward.

The leather shoe stepped on a bamboo skewer on the ground, making a crisp "crack" sound.

"Brother Biao, you're too kind. Everyone in the underworld knows that five years ago, this entire South City Night Market was your territory."

The crew-cut man gave a forced, insincere smile.

He reached out and tapped twice on the greasy plastic tabletop.

"Our boss said, 'Even a powerful dragon can't suppress a local snake.' If we want to expand our operations in Jinghai City, we need to find a knowledgeable acquaintance who knows the rules and can keep things under control to guide us."

Liu Biao's breathing became erratic.

He swallowed hard, his back pressed against the scorching edge of the oven, which made him shudder.

Ignoring the pain, he quickly moved to the side.

"Bosses, you've come to the wrong door."

Liu Biao lowered his head, his voice filled with obvious pleading.

"I spent several years in jail, and I'm terrified. Now all I want to do is grill some skewers to earn some money for my grandson's milk powder. I can't do gangster stuff anymore."

One of the crew-cut man's henchmen sneered.

"What? You've been working the sewing machine in jail for years, and now you think you're a coward? Where's your old bravado from when you were wielding a knife?"

Liu Biao gritted his teeth, not daring to retort.

The crew-cut man waved his hand, stopping his underlings' mockery.

He leaned forward, keeping a distance of about half a meter, and lowered his voice.

"Can you endure this kind of hard life, earning only two or three hundred yuan a day? Just gather your old buddies together and hand over the distribution channels for this night market to us."

The man with the buzz cut held up five fingers.

"This amount per month. A guaranteed minimum of 500,000, plus commission."

Liu Biao's pupils contracted instantly.

It wasn't that I was attracted; it was that I was scared.

Five hundred thousand? Loose stock?

Even a fool could tell that these beasts in suits weren't selling flour or sugar.

The other day, rumors were circulating about a new type of illegal drug called "Stardust." These people are most likely involved in that line of work.

This is a business that could cost you your life!

"I won't do it."

Liu Biao refused outright. His voice trembled, but his refusal was resolute.

He raised his hand and pointed in the direction of the municipal police station building.

"Gentlemen, Jinghai City is not what it used to be. With Commander-in-Chief Lu in charge, do you dare to do this right under our noses? Are you out of your minds!"

Upon hearing Lu Jingyan's name.

A cold, disdainful glint flashed in the crew-cut man's eyes.

"Lu Jingyan?"

He snorted coldly, threw the half-smoked cigar on the ground, and stomped it twice with the tip of his leather shoe.

"His alien system that could take him to the heavens and the earth is long gone. Everyone in the underworld knows that he's just a mortal body that can be taken down with a single shot now."

The man with the buzz cut moved closer to Liu Biao's face.

"A toothless tiger can only scare cowards like you. Once our boss gets things done, he'll be the first one sent to his death."

Liu Biao was so shocked that his back was soaked with cold sweat.

These lunatics. Not only do they want to sell medicine, but they're also planning to mess with that living ancestor?

They had no idea that even without superpowers, the officer's criminal investigation skills were enough to skin a person alive!

"I don't care what you're trying to do. I'm not taking over this business."

Liu Biao gripped the edge of the oven tightly, his knuckles turning white from the effort.

"You can leave now. I won't call the police; that's keeping the old rules of the underworld in mind."

The man with the buzz cut stood up straight.

He stared at Liu Biao for two seconds, as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world.

He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

He pulled out a small, transparent, self-sealing plastic bag. The bag was only about half the size of his palm.

It contained a small amount of powder.

Under the dim streetlights of the night market, the powder emitted a strange, eerie blue glow.

Like crushed starlight, it possesses a deadly allure that makes your bones melt.

The moment Liu Biao saw what it was.

His calves suddenly buckled, and he nearly lost his balance. He gasped for breath, his eyes fixed on the bag.

The drug dealer slapped a small packet of blue-glowing powder onto the greasy table, sneered, and said, "Brother Biao, this business is incredibly profitable. We'll bring a large shipment tomorrow night; you handle the rest."