Hong Kong variety show: The mastermind behind the scenes is emerging.

Wan Chai, Jaffe Road.

This is a high-end teahouse called "Jade Garden," with opulent decor and a lot of luxury cars parked outside. It's a gathering place for Wan Chai's business elites and also the private property of the "Four-Eyed Trio," the financial backers of the Vietnamese gang.

Inside the VIP suite on the top floor.

The atmosphere was so heavy it seemed like it could drip water.

Around the round table sat three middle-aged men who looked refined and wore expensive suits. They had started out in the smuggling business but had only recently gone legal and were major players in the Vietnamese gangs.

Opposite them sat Brother Zha, Tony, and Ah Hu.

However, at this moment, the atmosphere between the two sides was somewhat tense.

Scumbag was sitting with his legs crossed, picking his teeth. Tiger was playing with a dinner knife, his eyes scanning the necks of the three middle-aged men. Tony, on the other hand, was leisurely sipping his tea, looking every bit the refined scoundrel.

"Three million?" The bespectacled man at the head of the table, barely containing his anger, slammed his teacup on the table. "Tony, are you guys crazy? How long has it been since you paid your fees, and now you want three million? Do you think we print money?"

"Hey, boss, you can't say that." Tony put down his teacup, adjusted his glasses, and sported his signature sinister smile. "You all know the situation. Hung Hing's Ah Wah has gone too far. Not only have he detained our men, but he's also cut off our supply lines. We're at war now, and we need money for weapons, resettlement allowances, medicine... everything costs money!"

"That's your problem!" another fat man roared, slamming his fist on the table. "We rescued you from the refugee camp because you could fight, to help us keep watch, and to do our dirty work, not to send you to fight Hung Hing! Do you think we're easy targets?"

"No money! Not a single penny!" the bespectacled man stated bluntly.

"Oh? No money?"

Tony wasn't angry. He simply took out a stack of photos from his pocket, slid them across the table, and pushed them in front of the three of them.

The three patrons looked down and their faces turned deathly pale.

The photos are all of their families.

The bespectacled man's wife is getting a beauty treatment, the fat man's son is on his way home from school, the skinny man's lover is shopping... Every photo is taken from an extremely tricky angle, clearly taken by someone who was followed and secretly filmed.

"Boss, I heard your son studies at St. Paul's College? School ends at four in the afternoon, right?" Zha Ge's voice was like a venomous snake, slithering into the ears of the three men. "The traffic and security aren't very good these days. What if he gets into a car accident on the way, or gets kidnapped by that lunatic... tsk tsk, that would be such a pity."

"You...you dare threaten us?!" The bespectacled man trembled with rage, slamming his fist on the table. "Have you no sense of honor left in the underworld?!"

"The rules of the underworld?" Brother Zha laughed wildly, putting one foot on the chair. "I am the rule! Back in Vietnam, we even ate human flesh to survive! You're talking to me about rules?"

"Money or your life. Choose one."

Ah Hu's knife pierced through the four-eyed man's fingers with a sharp "thud," sinking deep into the wood.

A deathly silence.

The three investors looked at the three wolves that had completely gone out of control, and the anger in their eyes finally turned into fear.

They regretted it.

In their attempt to transform and clean up their image, they severed all ties with the underworld and specifically chose three seemingly ruthless Vietnamese men from a refugee camp to act as their henchmen, thinking they could control them by giving them some hardship.

Unexpectedly, this wasn't a dog at all; it was clearly an ungrateful wolf cub!

"Okay...we'll give it to you," the bespectacled man said in a trembling voice, as if he had aged ten years in an instant. "The money will be transferred to your account the day after tomorrow afternoon, but I hope this is the last time."

"That's more like it. I was just joking with you earlier," Tony clapped his hands, stood up with a smile, and said amicably, "Thanks for your support, boss. With this money, I'll go and twist Ah-Hua's head off tonight. From now on, Wan Chai and Mong Kok will be our territory, and it'll be easier for us to work for you, right?"

"Walk."

The three Vietnamese brothers swaggered out of the private room, leaving behind a mess and three ashen-faced patrons.

The bespectacled man took off his glasses and covered his face in anguish: "How could I have been so blind as to choose these three mad dogs to make gloves?"

A few years ago, the three brothers sensed that their gang business wouldn't last long and wanted to go legitimate and switch to honest trading. But they were reluctant to give up their status in the underworld, so they came up with what they thought was a clever idea: they found a few Vietnamese people with no connections in the refugee camp to work as "dirty gloves" and handed over the gang business to them to manage.

Unexpectedly, the dog grew up and not only bit people, but also ate them.

Now they have no more capable henchmen left, and facing Tony and his gang of outlaws, they are like lambs to the slaughter, utterly powerless.

"Big brother, what do we do?" The fat man slumped into his chair. "These lunatics are a bottomless pit! This time it was three million, will they take our entire fortune next time?"

"Let's call the police..." the skinny man suggested.

"Call the police my ass! Do you think we're clean? If you call the police, they'll arrest us first!" The bespectacled man covered his face in despair.

Just then.

"Ring ring—"

The mobile phone on the table, a symbol of status, suddenly rang.

In the deathly silent private room, the sound seemed particularly jarring.

The bespectacled man looked at the unfamiliar number, hesitated for a moment, and then answered it with trembling hands.

"Hey?" A calm and refined voice came from the other end of the phone: "Hello, Four-Eyes, this is Hung Hing's Chiang Tin-sang."

……

Two days later, at 6 PM.

As night falls, the neon lights in Wan Chai begin to flicker.

The back alley warehouse of Saigon Night Bar is a gathering place for Vietnamese gangs.

"Hahaha! These old bastards are just shameless! They won't hand over their money unless you scare them!" Brother Zha looked at the bank receipt and couldn't stop laughing.

"Brothers! The money's in!" Ah Hu, standing atop a modified van, brandished his machete and roared at the two hundred-odd Vietnamese men below, "Tonight, target Mong Kok! Kill Ah Wah! Rob the money! Take the turf!!"

"Kill! Kill! Kill!!"

The group of desperados let out a beast-like howl.

Tony stood to the side, wiping a black machete, his eyes gleaming coldly. Tonight, he wasn't just going to win, he was going to win spectacularly, to thoroughly cripple Hung Hing.

"Set off!"

At a command, more than two hundred people quickly boarded the dozen or so bread trucks parked in the alley.

"Buzz—Buzz—"

The first few cars started smoothly.

However, the drivers of the seven or eight cars in the middle and behind could only hear a "buzzing" sound when they turned their keys; the engines just wouldn't start.

"What's going on?!" Brother Zha roared.

"B-Big Brother!" one of the henchmen jumped out of the car in a panic, lifted the hood, glanced inside, and then shouted in a daze, "The...the battery is gone!!"

"What?!"

Everyone got out of the car to check.

Good guy!

The batteries of seven or eight vans were stolen in broad daylight! Only a few bare wires were left, dangling haphazardly in the wind.

"Damn it! Who's so shameless? Stealing even the battery?!" Brother Zha was so angry he almost had a stroke.

This is like going to war! The car hasn't even left the warehouse and the battery's already dead? Are they supposed to walk there? That's so embarrassing!

Just as the Vietnamese group was in chaos, cursing and swearing.

"Slap! Slap! Slap!"

The streetlights on both sides of the alley suddenly went out.

Immediately afterwards, a series of footsteps and the scraping sound of metal dragging on the floor came from the darkness.

"I don't think you'll be able to go to Mong Kok."

A cold voice rang out at the alley entrance.

Ahua.

He was wearing a black trench coat, carrying a long knife, followed by an airplane and dozens of Hung Hing elites dressed in Hero Security stab-proof vests and carrying uniform steel pipes and machetes.

At the other end of the alley, dozens of people emerged, blocking the Vietnamese gang's retreat.

"Ahua?!"

Tony's pupils contracted.

He didn't expect that Ah Wah not only knew about their actions, but also dared to take the initiative and come to Wan Chai to surround them!

"Stealing batteries..." Tony gritted his teeth, "That's really underhanded."

"Same here, you still want to ambush us, don't you?" Ahua coldly raised his long sword and shouted, "Brothers, cut them down!!"

"kill!!"

A great battle broke out instantly.

This is a case of intentional maneuvering against someone who wasn't paying attention.

Although the Hung Hing gang was slightly outnumbered by the Vietnamese gang, they were better prepared and had higher morale. In addition, the Vietnamese gang was thrown into disarray due to their vehicle breaking down, and they were caught off guard.

"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The alley was filled with the sounds of fighting and the glint of swords.

The plane took the lead, its short-handled axe flashing like a whirlwind, and several Vietnamese soldiers fell with screams in its wake. This guy was a real ruthless one; he fought like a madman.

Not to be outdone, Ahua led his men straight to the core, their target being the three Tony brothers.

According to the script, this should have been a one-sided massacre.

However, Ahua underestimated one variable—Tony.

The final boss in "Flash Point" who could fight Ma Jun to a standstill is truly terrifying in terms of combat power.

"court death!"

Faced with three Hung Hing henchmen rushing towards him, Tony did not retreat but advanced.

He moved like a ghost, dodging a steel pipe, and then executed a sharp spinning back kick.

"Bang!"

The henchman was kicked five meters away, and the sound of his sternum shattering could be clearly heard.

Then, Tony snatched a machete and charged into a flock of sheep like a tiger.

His movements were fast, precise, and ruthless, devoid of any fancy moves—all killing techniques. Every slash aimed straight for vital organs, and every punch was accompanied by the sound of bones cracking.

"ah!!"

In just a few minutes, more than ten Hung Hing brothers fell at Tony's feet.

The Hung Hing front, which had originally held the upper hand, was actually torn open by him all by himself!

"Airplane! Stop him!" Ahua roared and charged forward with his knife.

"Good!" the plane roared, hacking at Tony with an axe.

"snort."

Tony sneered, dodged the axe to the side, and simultaneously slammed his knee into the plane's stomach.

"Hmm!"

The plane groaned, feeling like it was going to vomit. But it was a tough guy; it endured the pain, grabbed Tony's waist, and tried to throw him to the ground.

"roll!"

Tony's eyes flashed with a cold light. He slammed his elbow into the back of the plane, knocking it to the ground, and then kicked it away.

"Prepare to die!"

At that moment, Ahua's knife arrived.

Tony didn't even turn his head; he parried the attack with a backhand strike.

"clang!!"

Sparks flew everywhere.

Ahua felt a tingling sensation in his hand, and the knife almost slipped from his grasp. This guy's strength... it's simply inhuman!

The two exchanged several blows in an instant.

Although Ahua is also exceptionally skilled, he still appears somewhat outmatched in the face of a master-level fighter like Tony.

After a few moves, Tony kicked Ahua in the shoulder, sending him staggering back several steps, half of his body going numb.

"Is that all you've got?" Tony stood in the center of the crowd, covered in blood, like a demon descended to earth. "Since you're here today, none of you are leaving!"

Under his leadership, the initially panicked Vietnamese gang regained their composure and launched a fierce counterattack. Brother Zha and Brother Hu were also bloodthirsty; the three brothers together were a veritable meat grinder.

The battle reached a stalemate.

Ahua's heart bled as he watched his brothers fall one after another around him.

Although they were still generally dominating the fight against the Vietnamese, if they didn't take down Tony and his two brothers, even if they won the battle, it would be a Pyrrhic victory.

If things go wrong, half of these hundred-plus brothers might perish here.

The price is too high.

"Boss! This bastard's too tough! He's a real pain!" Airplane yelled, scrambling to his feet, his face covered in blood. "Should we fight to the death?!"

Ahua stared intently at Tony, who was slaughtering people not far away, his teeth clenched.

If they don't withdraw, even if they manage to wipe out the Vietnamese gang today, probably few of the brothers he brought with him will still be standing.

"Retreat!!" Ahua made the most difficult decision. "Everyone! Take turns providing cover! Retreat!!"

"Trying to run?" Tony, caught up in the killing spree, wanted to give chase.

"boom!!"

Ahua pulled a homemade Molotov cocktail from his pocket and smashed it hard on the ground.

Flames instantly rose up, forming a wall of fire that blocked the Vietnamese gang's path.

"Walk!!"

Taking advantage of the fire, the Hung Hing men quickly helped up their injured brothers and orderly retreated from the alley, disappearing into the night.

Tony stood behind the wall of fire, watching Ahua's departing figure, his face terribly grim.

He wanted to give chase, but when he looked back at his men, only half of them were still standing; the rest were either lying on the ground groaning or had already passed out.

"Damn it..." Brother Zha walked over, clutching his bleeding arm. "These Hung Hing guys are really ruthless."

Tony wiped the blood off his glasses, a hint of apprehension flashing in his eyes.

"This Ahua, he doesn't get carried away or greedy for credit. When he saw he couldn't win, he retreated decisively, and he did so with great discipline. He's very capable," Tony said, looking at the mess on the ground. "I'll remember this grudge."

……

The following month.

The border between Wan Chai and Mong Kok has become the most chaotic battlefield on Hong Kong Island.

Ahua and Tony were like two tireless fighting dogs, engaging in five or six large-scale brawls.

With his skilled subordinates and the cash cow that is the arcade, Ah Hua always manages to gain a small advantage. But whenever the Vietnamese gang is driven to the brink of defeat, the three Tony brothers will launch a counterattack like madmen, fighting their way out with their terrifying individual combat skills.

This tug-of-war left Ahua exhausted.

December 30, late at night.

Mong Kok, Ah Wah's office.

Looking at the long list of casualties in his hand, and the huge resettlement expenses reported by the finance department, Ahua took a deep drag on his cigarette.

They couldn't continue.

If this fight continues, our elite troops will be exhausted.

Faced with overwhelming military power, ordinary tactics and numerical superiority ultimately have their limits.

A monster of Tony's caliber can't be dealt with by ordinary thugs.

"call……"

Ahua stubbed out his cigarette and picked up the phone on the table.

He knew that making this call meant admitting his incompetence.

But he knew even more that if he didn't fight, he would be letting down his brothers lying in the hospital.

"Beep...beep..."

The call was connected.

"Boss," Ahua's voice was a little hoarse.

"What? You haven't won her over yet?" Lu Chen's voice remained calm.

"I'm sorry, boss."

Ahua lowered his head, his voice filled with shame, "That Tony... is too strong. Even with the plane and me working together, we couldn't stop him. Our brothers have suffered heavy casualties. I request... reinforcements."