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

February 19, 1983, the seventh day of the first lunar month.

Stanley Prison.

Although the hunger strike was temporarily quelled by the warden's intervention, the atmosphere in Cell C was even more tense than before. It was as if an invisible string was taut in the air, ready to snap at any moment.

Everyone knows that Killer Xiong, the head of the security department, is a petty and vindictive man. He lost face in front of the warden, and he will definitely hold Zhong Tianzheng, Lu Jiayao, and that show-off A Wu accountable for it.

Warehouse C, Room 204, before heading to work in the morning.

"Brother Zheng, I have a bad feeling," Lu Jiayao said in a low voice while making the bed. "During roll call earlier, Killer Xiong looked at me strangely, and those guys from Datun were whispering among themselves. They're definitely up to something."

"No need for a premonition, it's certain," Zhong Tianzheng sighed, putting his toothbrush in his mouth. "I know Killer Xiong too well. He won't dare to act openly now, he'll definitely resort to underhanded tactics. For example, he might put contraband under our beds, or stage an accident at the factory... In short, we're in a very dangerous situation right now."

A-Wu, who was sitting on the lower bunk, was doing push-ups. When he heard this, he stopped and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"If he dares to make a move, I'll cripple him." A-Wu's voice remained indifferent.

"Ah Wu, this time is different." Ah Zheng shook his head, his expression serious. "Killer Xiong is an official, while we are thieves. It's too easy for him to kill us. We probably can't stop him this time with just our fists."

Zhong Tianzheng is a seasoned veteran; he knows when to fight tooth and nail and when to seek a powerful backer.

"No, we have to strike first!" A resolute glint flashed in Zhong Tianzheng's eyes. "Since he won't let us live, then we'll pull his teeth first!"

"Ah Yao, today is visiting day. Immediately apply to have your family contact Brother Hao. Tell Brother Hao: Killer Xiong is about to make his move."

……

[Central - Correctional Services Department Headquarters]

3 PM.

In a spacious, bright office with a distinctly British style.

The Commissioner of Correctional Services, a white-haired, soon-to-retire foreign official, is sitting behind his desk, looking at a cheque and a thick document in front of him.

Sitting opposite him was Song Zihao, dressed in a suit and exuding an extraordinary air.

"Mr. Song, I don't understand what you mean," the commissioner said, pushing the check forward. Although his eyes lingered on the astonishing figure for a long time, he still spoke in an official tone. "Although DOA is a long-term partner of our Correctional Services Department and has provided many job opportunities for released prisoners, interfering with personnel appointments and dismissals within the prison is not in accordance with regulations."

"Director, you've misunderstood."

Song Zihao smiled slightly, leaned forward, and placed his ten fingers interlaced on the table.

"I'm not here to interfere in personnel matters; I'm here to... assist the director in cleaning up the house and upholding the rule of law image of the Japanese Empire."

Song Zihao pointed to the document.

"This is the evidence my legal team has collected. It concerns the head of the security department at Stanley Prison. He has a long history of accepting bribes from inmates, selling smuggled cigarettes within the prison, instigating inmates to assault others, and is even suspected of involvement in several cases of 'accidental deaths' of inmates..."

Song Zihao's voice was calm, but every word was like a nail.

"Director, you should know how closely the ICAC is monitoring these kinds of matters these days. If this document were to be sent directly to the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC)..."

Song Zihao paused, then looked at the commissioner meaningfully. "At that point, it won't just be a lowly section chief who will be in trouble; the reputation of the entire Correctional Services Department will be damaged. You're about to retire with honors, receive your knighthood, and return to London to live out your days. You wouldn't want such a scandal to break out at this crucial juncture, would you?"

The director's expression changed.

He picked up the document and flipped through a few pages, becoming increasingly alarmed as he read. The photos, copy of ledgers, and witness testimonies inside were terrifyingly detailed.

That idiot Killer Xiong, he's so sloppy!

"So, Mr. Song means..." The director's tone softened.

"My meaning is very simple," Song Zihao pushed the check forward again, "This is a 'charitable fund' donated by the DOA Group to the Correctional Services Department to improve the welfare of prison guards and the living facilities of prisoners."

"As for that document..."

"I think it should be handed over to the ICAC by you, Director. This is called 'putting the greater good before personal relationships,' and it is an achievement of your hard work in cracking down on corruption during your term."

"As for that assassin Xiong..." A cold glint flashed in Song Zihao's eyes, "Since he's a black sheep, let him go where he belongs."

The director remained silent for a moment.

On one side are huge retirement funds and political achievements, and on the other side is a greedy subordinate who could explode at any time.

This multiple-choice question is too easy.

"Mr. Song, you are a truly respectable gentleman."

The director beamed and pocketed the check. "I believe the ICAC will be very interested in this material. And I will never tolerate such a scoundrel in my ranks."

"It's a pleasure working with you," Song Zihao stood up, buttoned his suit jacket, and said, "Then I won't bother the director any longer with cleaning up his own house."

As he walked out of the Correctional Services Department building, Song Zihao glanced at the sky.

sunny.

……

Stanley Prison, Security Office

The next day, at 10 a.m.

The assassin, Xiong, sat with his legs crossed, holding a police baton in his hand, listening to Datun's report.

"Brother Xiong, I've got everything arranged," Da Tun said with a sinister grin. "Tonight, when he's taking a shower, I'll have someone hide a razor blade in A Yao's soap. Then you can lead your men in, catch him red-handed! Possession of a murder weapon will at least add a year to his sentence! Then we can lock him in the kitchen and torture him however we want!"

"Very good!" Killer Xiong nodded in satisfaction. "Da Tun, after this is done, I'll give you an extra 10% of the profits from the smuggled cigarettes."

"Thank you, Brother Xiong! Thank you, Brother Xiong!"

Just as the two were conspiring and dreaming about the future.

"Bang!!"

The office door was suddenly pushed open.

"Who the hell..." Killer Xiong was about to curse, but he swallowed the words back.

The people standing at the door were neither prison guards nor prisoners.

Instead, they were four strangers dressed in black suits with serious expressions.

The one in the lead showed his identification.

"ICAC," the investigator said coldly, looking at Killer Xiong. "Mr. Xiong Guoliang (Killer Xiong's real name), we suspect you of being involved in multiple cases of corruption, bribery, and abuse of power. Please come with us to assist in the investigation."

"Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC)?!"

The police baton in the killer Xiong's hand fell to the ground with a "clatter".

In this day and age, "Lian Kee" coffee is every civil servant's nightmare.

"Is this a mistake? I want to see the warden! I want to see the chief warden!" Killer Xiong panicked and shouted loudly.

"The Commissioner has already signed off on it. Everything you say from now on will be used against you in court," the investigator said, producing an arrest warrant. "Take him away!"

Two investigators rushed up and grabbed the assassin, Xiong, from both sides.

"No! I am the head of the prison security department! You have no right to arrest people directly!" Killer Xiong struggled desperately, biting wildly like a mad dog.

Da Tun, who was standing nearby, had already shrunk to the corner in fear, his face ashen, and he didn't dare to breathe loudly.

Watching the assassin Xiong being dragged out of the office like a dead dog, Da Tun felt dizzy.

It’s over.

His biggest backer in Stanley has fallen.

……

The news that Killer Xiong had been taken away by the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) spread like wildfire throughout Stanley Prison.

"Hey! Did you hear? Assassin Xiong has been captured!"

"Great! That vampire finally got his comeuppance!"

"I heard it was because of embezzlement! The ICAC officers just handcuffed him and took him away!"

Inside cell C, there was a jubilant atmosphere. Although the prisoners dared not openly set off firecrackers, everyone's face was filled with the joy of celebrating the New Year.

Only the group from Datun were as if they had lost their parents.

Without the protection of the assassin Xiong, those they had offended before, those prisoners they had bullied, now looked at them with eyes filled with the flames of revenge.

Especially those people in room 204.

That night, Stanley Prison, bathhouse

Without the protection of the assassin Xiong, Datun was like a venomous snake whose fangs had been pulled out.

After dinner, in the bathroom.

Da Tun, with his last six loyal henchmen, was preparing to quickly take a shower and return to his cell to hide. He knew he was now a pariah.

"Hurry up and wash! Then leave as soon as you're done!"

Da Tun rubbed his body while keeping a wary eye on the doorway.

However, what you fear most is what happens.

"Bang!"

The bathroom door was closed and locked.

The previously noisy bathroom instantly fell silent. Seeing this, the other prisoners wisely slipped into a corner, leaving the middle area empty.

Three figures slowly walked over.

Zhong Tianzheng was holding a stool leg in his hand. Lu Jiayao, though still a little nervous, picked up a bar of soap and wrapped it in a towel.

Walking in the very center was A-Wu. He was shirtless, and his muscles, as if cast in steel, gleamed coldly under the lights.

"Big...Big Brother Datun, it's them!" the underling cried out in terror.

Da Tun shuddered, but forced himself to remain calm: "Ah Zheng, calm down. You have a bright future ahead of you. Don't let a moment of pleasure lead you down a path of no return!"

Zhong Tianzheng laughed, a roguish laugh: "Nothing much, just planning to loosen your bones a bit."

"Brother Wu, how do we split the costs for this deal?"

A-Wu stopped and pulled a wet towel from his waist, slowly wrapping it around his hand.

He looked at Datun with a playful yet shrewd look in his eyes.

"Originally..." A-Wu began, his voice echoing in the empty bathroom, "I wanted to keep this fat pig around so I could make money off you guys a few more times. After all, with a stupid and wicked punching bag like this, you can collect money every time you hit him, a steady stream of income."

Upon hearing this, Da Tun's face turned pale and then red.

"But..." A-Wu's tone shifted abruptly, his eyes instantly turning sharp as knives, "Just now, the boss told me he doesn't want to play anymore."

"The boss is very generous; he gave me double the price," A-Wu said, holding up two fingers and waving them, "Let me solve this once and for all."

"Then I think... let's end it here!"

Before he could finish speaking, A-Wu moved.

"boom--"

Like a tiger unleashed from its cage, A-Wu charged straight into the crowd in Da-tun.

"Bang!"

With one punch, one of Datun's henchmen was sent flying into the water tank, his face covered in blood.

"Snap!"

With one kick, the other henchman's lower leg bent at a bizarre ninety-degree angle.

Takeru's movements were so fast that they were impossible to see; every move was aimed at crippling the opponent.

Less than a minute.

The six men that Da Tun brought were all lying on the ground groaning in pain, with broken arms or legs, and none of them could stand up.

Only Datun was left, naked, huddled in the corner, shivering.

"No...don't come any closer..."

Datun broke down, tears streaming down his face. "I was wrong! Grandpa! Ancestors! Forgive me! I'll be your dog from now on! Will you be my dog?!"

A-Wu walked up to Da-Tun and looked down at him.

"To be a dog?" A-Wu shook his head. "The boss said he doesn't want to see you again."

"Since we've taken the money, we naturally have to do a good job."

A-Wu reached out and grabbed Da-Tun's still-healing right arm.

"Bear with it."

"ah----!!!"

A heart-wrenching scream echoed throughout the bathhouse.

Not only did A-Wu break his right arm again, but he also dislocated his left arm once more. And this time it wasn't just a simple dislocation; he broke both arms by reversing the joints.

Even if they are reattached later, both arms will be useless. It will be difficult to even hold chopsticks, let alone use a knife to cut someone.

"Remember to visit Stanley in the future."

A-Wu patted Da-Tun's face, who had already fainted from the pain, his voice icy.

"Humble yourself!"