Courtyard House: First, kill the hypocrites, leave none alive.

He has been working on Hong Kong Island for over 30 years, climbing his way up from a dockworker to where he is today. What storms hasn't he weathered?

But this time is different.

The opponent lurks in the shadows, employing ruthless and decisive methods with unclear objectives, like a venomous snake hiding in the shadows, whose fangs may be revealed at any moment.

What made him even more uneasy was that this matter seemed to involve the mainland... The situation there was more complicated and the waters ran deeper.

He had to find this person as soon as possible. Not only for revenge, but also to eliminate this potential and enormous threat.

A reward of 100,000 should be enough to get a lot of people to talk.

I just don't know where that powerful dragon crossing the river is hiding on Hong Kong Island right now.

……

West Kowloon Regional Police Headquarters, Serious Crimes Unit Office.

The smoke was even thicker than in Master He's study. Several detectives gathered around a whiteboard covered with photos of the scene, maps, relationship diagrams, and various annotations.

Senior Inspector Wong Chi-shing loosened his tie, his eyes were bloodshot, and the cigarette he was holding was almost burning his fingers.

"Still no progress?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

The female detective in charge of intelligence gathering, Ah Zhen, shook her head: "Inspector Wong, we've investigated the black market arms line. In the past three months, there have been quite a few standard-issue handguns circulating in the market, but automatic weapons... are almost nonexistent. Occasionally, one or two 'Black Star' (the Hong Kong colloquial name for the Type 54 pistol) will surface, and they're all being sold at exorbitant prices. As for the kind of automatic weapon that looks like a Type 56 assault rifle, no one has ever seen it traded."

"What about investigating enemies?" Wong Chi-shing turned to another detective.

"Master He, Lin Guoxiong, has quite a few enemies." The detective flipped through his notebook. "Agui from 'He Yi An,' Sang Biao from 'Number Gang,' and a few old guys within 'He Xing Sheng' who don't respect him. They all have motives. But according to our informants, these people haven't shown any unusual manpower mobilization recently, nor do they seem like the type to be able to obtain automatic weapons and act so ruthlessly."

"What about the illegal immigrant route?" Huang Zhicheng asked the third detective.

The detective looked troubled: "Inspector Wong, several smuggling boats came from the north those few days, landing at scattered locations, with an estimated number of people exceeding two hundred. Most of them were arrested by the 'smuggling squads' in various districts, and some dispersed. Based on the activity range and time of the 'smuggling squad' under Master He, we identified about twenty or thirty people who might have landed on their beach. These people are now... either missing, dead, or controlled by other gangs, making it very difficult to investigate."

"We have to investigate, even if it's difficult!" Wong Chi-shing stubbed out his cigarette in frustration. "Thirteen people were massacred with automatic weapons! If this case isn't solved, what will the higher-ups think, and what will the citizens think? Will Hong Kong Island ever be safe again?"

Silence fell over the office. Everyone knew how much pressure they were under.

"Inspector Wong," Ah Zhen hesitated for a moment before speaking, "the forensic team has made a new discovery. They found something in a pile of rocks a little further away from the scene." She handed over an evidence bag.

Huang Zhicheng took it and examined it under the light. Inside the evidence bag were several very small, dark blue cotton fibers, and a few small, dried, dark brown stains.

"What is this?"

"The cotton fibers are ordinary, probably scraped off from clothing. But that stain..." Ah Zhen paused, "The preliminary forensic analysis shows a very complex composition, including sea salt, mud, blood, and... a very trace amount of an anti-inflammatory drug they've never seen before."

"Anti-inflammatory medication?"

"Yes. It's not ordinary sulfonamides or oxytetracycline. The specific ingredients are still being analyzed, but it's definitely not the cheap stuff commonly found on the market."

Huang Zhicheng stared at the tiny stain, his brows furrowed.

Fragments of clothing? Bloodstains? Uncommon anti-inflammatory medication?

This suggests that either the perpetrator or one of the victims may have been injured and treated with unusual medications. While medical regulations on Hong Kong Island are not strict, the distribution of such specialized anti-inflammatory drugs should be limited.

"Investigate!" Huang Zhicheng immediately ordered. "Check all black market clinics, pharmacies, and even hospitals to see if anyone has recently purchased or used large quantities of uncommon anti-inflammatory drugs! Especially topical or injectable medications for treating gunshot and knife wounds!"

This is an extremely subtle clue, but it may be the key to breaking the deadlock.

"In addition," Wong Chi-shing added, "we will strengthen screening of recent arrivals, especially those from the north. In particular, we will focus on men who are traveling alone, have injuries, or are behaving abnormally. We will not make a big fuss, but rather have uniformed and plainclothes officers in each district keep a close watch."

The order was relayed, and the office bustled with activity once again.

Huang Zhicheng walked to the window and looked at the Kowloon night view as the city lights began to illuminate the night. The city was bustling and noisy during the day and bizarre and dazzling at night, but beneath this appearance, who knows how many undercurrents and sins were hidden.

A ruthless and unidentified killer armed with automatic weapons is hiding in this jungle of reinforced concrete.

He was like a bomb that could explode at any moment.

We must find him before he makes another move.

Whether it was for the sake of those thirteen lives, or for the peace of this city.

Night was falling.

The lights were already off in a small room on the third floor of 132 Fuk Wing Street, Sham Shui Po.

Chen Feng lay on a makeshift bed on the living room floor, breathing evenly. The physical labor of the day had left him somewhat exhausted, but he remained alert.

Before going to sleep, he checked the doors and windows again, confirming that the table blocking the door was in the correct position. The pistol under his pillow was within easy reach.

Xiaoyu was fast asleep in the next bedroom, making soft breathing sounds.

Everything seemed calm and ordinary.

Unbeknownst to Chen Feng, at this very moment, in Kowloon Walled City and the West Kowloon Police Station, two forces were racking their brains and doing their utmost to investigate his "masterpiece."

Little did he know that the tiny piece of cloth left unintentionally on the beach, stained with trace amounts of the "physical restoration agent," had become a faint but potentially crucial clue in the hands of the police.

The HK$100,000 bounty has been quietly spread through the underworld network, and countless greedy or eager-to-show-off eyes have begun searching every corner of the city for a target who fits the vague characteristics of "visitor from the north", "may be injured", and "ruthless".

He simply followed his own pace, gradually establishing himself in the city.

Tomorrow, he will have to work at Master Zhang's repair shop.

A meager salary, an insignificant identity, and a temporarily peaceful life.

This was a chance to catch his breath for himself and Xiaoyu.

The neon lights of the city outside the window cast flickering shadows on his face through the gaps in the curtains.

Chen Feng, who was fast asleep, had his brows slightly furrowed, as if he was having a dream.

Perhaps it was the firelight of Beijing.

Perhaps it will be a bloodbath on the beach.

Or perhaps, it's the invisible net that's quietly tightening in this new hunting ground.

The night was as dark as ink, and the undercurrents surged silently.

True hunters, however, often maintain their sharpest vigilance even when they are asleep.