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

Mid-July 1983.

Stanley, a peninsula at the southernmost tip of Hong Kong Island, boasts beautiful scenery and a gentle sea breeze. However, for Qiu Gang'ao, sitting in a fully enclosed prison van at this moment, it is the end of the world, a tomb burying the glory of his first half of life.

"Squeak—"

With a screech of brakes that made your teeth ache, the massive steel gate, weighing several tons, slowly opened, like the mouth of a giant beast, swallowing the prison van that carried the "shame of the police force."

"Get off the bus! Everyone, hurry up! Line up!"

The prison guards brandished their batons, their harsh shouts echoing across the empty exercise yard.

Qiu Gang'ao, dressed in a well-fitting dark brown prison uniform and wearing a pair of cheap plastic slippers, jumped off the vehicle in a daze.

At this moment, his face was covered in stubble, and his eyes were as empty as a dry well. The once impeccably dressed inspector's uniform and the authority brought by the .38 rifle at his waist had all vanished with the final, decisive verdict.

Now, he only has a cold, impersonal code name—5356.

"5356! Please stand still and raise your hands!"

The correctional officer in charge of the inspection looked at the criminal file in his hand, then at the familiar young man, a very complex look flashing in his eyes.

His actions were also much gentler than those he showed to other prisoners.

Qiu Gang'ao didn't speak or resist. He was like a soulless walking corpse, completely at the mercy of the prison guards.

Next came the extremely humiliating prison process.

Stripping naked, spraying his entire body with disinfectant powder, and bending over for a "check-through" inspection... every step gradually stripped away his dignity as a "human being," shattering him completely and reshaping him into a "prisoner" who only obeys orders.

"Take your things: washbasin, toothbrush, towel."

"This will be all your possessions from now on!"

"Once you're in Stanley, put away all your arrogance from outside. Here, dragons must coil, and tigers must lie low! Do you understand?!"

"……clear."

Qiu Gang'ao took the basin that smelled of cheap plastic, his voice hoarse as if two rusty pieces of iron were rubbing against each other.

Warehouse C, Room 204, the air here is always filled with a damp, musty smell, the stench of sweat, and an indescribable, violent atmosphere.

"Bang!"

The heavy iron gate was opened by the prison guards.

"Come in, this is your new home... Also, if you need anything, just let me know."

The prison guards, unusually, did not push Qiu Gang'ao inside like they would any other inmates, but waited until he went in before slowly locking the door.

Qiu Gang'ao staggered a couple of steps, steadied himself, and looked up at the cramped space.

This is a standard four-person cell.

The lower bunk on the left was empty, just a bare wooden plank bed—that used to be Lu Jiayao's spot. Just two days ago, Lu Jiayao had been released from prison for good behavior.

And now, that empty seat belongs to him.

On the other two bunks in the room, two men were sitting.

On the lower right bunk sat a lean, sharp-eyed middle-aged man. He was sitting with his legs crossed, engrossed in a copy of the magazine "Dragon, Tiger and Leopard" that he had somehow acquired.

Upon seeing Qiu Gang'ao enter, the man put down his magazine, revealing a face brimming with worldly wisdom.

On the upper bunk to the right lay a man wearing a vest, his muscles bulging like granite. He was dozing with his eyes closed, a toothpick dangling from his mouth, exuding a menacing aura that made people afraid to approach him.

Cell 204 is arguably the "toughest" cell in Cell C of Stanley Prison.

Ever since Da Tun had both arms broken by A Wu alone, and the once arrogant "Killer Xiong" was taken away by the Independent Commission Against Corruption for investigation, the C Warehouse is now seemingly evenly divided among several major forces. However, everyone knows that the two people in room 204 are the ones who should absolutely not be messed with.

"Oh, new here?"

Seeing Qiu Gang'ao's dejected appearance, A-Zheng didn't bully the newcomer like the other veteran prisoners did. Instead, he jumped off the bed with great enthusiasm.

"Come on, stop standing there, that empty bed is yours." Ah Zheng pointed to the lower bunk on the left and said with a smile, "One of our brothers just left a couple of days ago, and we didn't expect it to be filled so quickly. Looks like our room has good feng shui and lots of people."

Qiu Gang'ao ignored A Zheng's enthusiasm.

He silently walked to his bed, placed the washbasin on the floor, and then mechanically spread out the sheets like a puppet. His movements were stiff and slow, as if everything around him was irrelevant.

Ah Zheng wasn't angry. He leaned closer, looked Qiu Gang'ao up and down, and said in a low voice, "Hey, brother, I've seen the news. You're that... Inspector Qiu from the Major Crimes Unit, right?"

Upon hearing the words "Inspector Qiu," Qiu Gang'ao's hand, which was making the bed, suddenly paused.

But it was only for a moment.

He then continued making the bed, still without saying a word.

"Hey, that's pretty aloof."

Ah Zheng scratched his head, pulled out a crumpled pack of Marlboro cigarettes from under his pillow, took one out and handed it over, "Want one? This is hard currency in prison, I don't give it to just anyone."

Qiu Gang'ao didn't even glance at the cigarette. He lay down on the bed, turned around, turned his back to A-Zheng, and covered his head with the blanket.

"..." Ah Zheng's hand froze in mid-air. He awkwardly put away his cigarette and muttered to himself, "Well, looks like he's still heartbroken. He hasn't gotten over this emotional hurdle yet."

A-Wu, who was on the upper bunk, opened one eye, glanced at the newcomer who had covered his head with the blanket, and coldly uttered two words: "Pretentious."

Then she turned over and went back to sleep.

Actually, there's a reason why Ah Zheng is so enthusiastic.

Just yesterday, on visiting day, his good older brother, Song Zihao, who had pulled him out of hell, came to see him.

Through the glass of the visiting room, Song Zihao brought him the good news of a reduced sentence—due to his previous good behavior and his efforts, his sentence was significantly shortened, and he only needed to serve another six months before he could be released.

More importantly, Song Zihao solemnly assigned him a task.

"Ah Zheng, a new guy will be transferring to your warehouse tomorrow. His name is Qiu Gang'ao, he's a policeman, he's in because of the cases these past few days. This guy is very important to the boss, you could even say he'll be an important subordinate in the future."

"The boss means that you and A-Wu should keep an eye on him inside, make sure he doesn't get played to death, and don't let him become completely ruined. Ideally... you could become friends with him and help him regain his spirit."

Ah Zheng naturally kept his boss's requirements in mind.

Since he's the person the boss assigned, even if he's a rock, Ah Zheng has to warm him up.

"Sigh, let's take it slow."

Ah Zheng looked at the figure curled up in the blankets, like a wounded lone wolf, and sighed. He knew that the pain of falling from the clouds to the mud wouldn't be something that could be healed in a short time.

……

The next day, at four o'clock in the afternoon.

Life in prison is monotonous and cruel, and the bathhouse is often the place where conflicts are most likely to break out, besides the exercise yard.

There are no surveillance cameras here; the air is thick with steam and slippery soap bubbles—a breeding ground for violence.

"Splash..."

Warm water flowed from the showerhead, washing over the bodies of a group of naked men.

Qiu Gang'ao stood alone under a showerhead in the corner. He lowered his head, letting the water wash over his hair and face, as if trying to cleanse himself of the humiliation and filth.

But his lean yet scarred muscles, and the capable air that even in his disheveled state couldn't hide, made him stand out among the group of oddball prisoners.

"Hey, isn't this our Officer Qiu?"

A strange, sarcastic voice suddenly pierced through the noise of the water and rang in his ear.

Qiu Gang'ao slowly opened his eyes.

Five or six heavily tattooed prisoners with menacing faces surrounded them, carrying soap and towels, with ill intent.

The leader was a fat man with a scar on his face, nicknamed "Fat Tiger".

"What? Inspector Qiu, don't you recognize me?" Fat Tiger, shirtless with a tiger tattooed on his chest, grinned maliciously as he walked up to Qiu Gang'ao and patted his face. "Three years ago, you were the one who personally brought me here. You were so arrogant in the interrogation room back then, huh? I never thought... God really has eyes! You've finally met your match!"

The surrounding prisoners also joined in the laughter, their laughter filled with the pleasure of revenge.

"Exactly! That kid really ruthless when he arrested me back then!"

"Chief Qiu, where's your police uniform? Where's your service weapon? What? Now you're a prisoner too?"

"Come on, pick up this bar of soap for me, let me see if your ass is as hard as your mouth!"

As he spoke, Fatty Tiger threw a bar of soap at Qiu Gang'ao's feet in an extremely insulting manner. Then, several people approached step by step and surrounded him in a slippery corner.

Qiu Gang'ao looked at the bar of soap on the ground, then at the several ferocious faces in front of him.

A faint, yet extremely sharp, glint of cold light suddenly flashed in his previously lifeless eyes.

That was the fierce aura of "Brother Ao".

Although he was abandoned by the police force and betrayed by his brothers, Qiu Gangao was never a spineless coward who would wag his tail and beg for mercy!

"roll."

Qiu Gang'ao's lips moved slightly, and he coldly uttered a single word.

"Oh ho? Pretty cocky, huh?!" Fatty Tiger was enraged. He swung his hand violently, "Brothers! Beat him up! Today, we'll teach this former police officer a lesson in prison rules!"

"Kill him!"

Several prisoners swarmed forward, raining down punches and kicks!

"Bang!"

Qiu Gang'ao made a move!

Although he was unarmed and mentally broken, he was, after all, one of the top serious crime inspectors in Hong Kong and had received the most rigorous combat training!

He suddenly dodged Fatty Tiger's straight punch by sidestepping, and then delivered a vicious knee strike that slammed heavily into Fatty Tiger's abdomen!

"Awooo—!"

Fat Tiger let out a bloodcurdling scream, and his whole body curled up like a boiled shrimp.

Immediately afterwards, Qiu Gang'ao grabbed another prisoner's wrist with a perfectly executed grappling technique. With a "crack," the man's wrist was instantly dislocated!

"Beat him! Beat him to death!"

Seeing this, the remaining three prisoners did not back down; instead, they pounced even more fiercely. One of them secretly clutched a sharpened toothbrush handle, aiming straight for Qiu Gang'ao's waist!

Two fists can't beat four hands.

On the slippery ground, Qiu Gang'ao managed to take down two prisoners, but he was quickly ambushed by the one with the toothbrush handle.

"puff!"

Although he dodged in time, the sharp plastic handle still pierced his arm, and blood gushed out instantly, mixing with the bathwater and flowing all over the floor.

The intense pain slowed Qiu Gang'ao's movements. Immediately afterward, four or five fists slammed into his face and body.

He was knocked to the ground, but he didn't beg for mercy, nor did he utter a single scream. He simply protected his vitals tightly, staring intently at these scumbags with eyes filled with hatred and defiance.

"Damn it! You dare glare at me?!"

Once he had recovered, Fatty Tiger clutched his stomach, grabbed a wooden basin from the side, and was about to smash it over Qiu Gang'ao's head!

"Go to hell, you damn cop!!"

At this critical moment.

"stop!!!"

A loud shout, as clear as a bell, instantly drowned out all the noise in the bathhouse.

Immediately afterwards, a figure rushed over like a black lightning bolt!

"Bang--!"

Ah Wu, wrapped only in a bath towel, stood barefoot on the slippery floor, yet remained as steady as a mountain. He launched a flying kick, landing with pinpoint accuracy and overwhelming force on Fatty Tiger's enormous buttocks!

The force of the kick was so great that it sent the 200-pound Fatty Tiger flying like a ball, crashing heavily into the opposite wall. He passed out before he could even scream.

"I'll see who dares to touch the people in my room!!"

A-Wu stood in front of Qiu Gang'ao, arms crossed, his terrifying muscles gleaming under the light. He had that same toothpick dangling from his mouth, his eyes cold as if he were looking at a group of dead men.

"Wu...Brother Wu?!"

The remaining prisoners were terrified when they saw A-Wu, and their hands froze in place.

In Stanley, who doesn't know how formidable the madman in Room 204 is? He even crippled Datun; he's someone even Killer Xiong wouldn't dare mess with!

"What? Still not enough? Want to spar with me?"

A-Wu glanced at them coldly, cracked his neck, and made a series of crisp "crack" sounds.

"No... I wouldn't dare! I wouldn't dare!"

The prisoners were so frightened that their faces turned green. They hurriedly helped the unconscious Fatty Tiger up, not daring to utter a single harsh word, and slunk out of the bathhouse.

The bathhouse fell silent instantly.

Only the sound of rushing water remained.

Qiu Gang'ao lay on the wet floor, his arm still bleeding and his mouth cut, looking extremely disheveled.

He was panting heavily, looking at A-Wu standing in front of him with a complicated expression.

At this moment, Ah Zheng, who had been standing behind Ah Wu to "hold the line," came over.

He held a dry towel in his hand, and wore that signature smile that was both roguish and warm.

"Are you alright, Inspector Qiu?"

Ah Zheng squatted down and handed the towel to Qiu Gang'ao. He didn't help him up, but instead gave him space to retain his last bit of dignity.

"You weren't ruthless enough just now. If you're not ruthless here, these guys could tear you apart alive."

Ah Zheng pointed to the retreating figures, his tone becoming slightly serious: "I know you're angry and aggrieved. But now that you're here, you need to put those feelings aside for a moment."

"Here, there is only one rule—survival."

Qiu Gang'ao propped himself up on the floor and struggled to sit up. He took a towel, wiped the blood from his face, and said nothing, just silently watching his two strange roommates.

He doesn't understand.

"Why?" Qiu Gang'ao finally spoke, his voice hoarse and wary. "Why are you helping me?"

Ah Zheng smiled.

He stood up, looking down at Qiu Gang'ao, a meaningful glint in his eyes.

"Because someone doesn't want to see you go down this path of failure, and we also don't want our new roommate to be short-lived; it's too unlucky."

Ah Zheng didn't say who it was, but he stretched out a hand.

That hand was rough and calloused, but it seemed exceptionally strong in the steamy bathhouse.

"Get up, let's go to the infirmary and get some gauze and iodine."

Qiu Gang'ao was stunned.

He looked at the hand reaching out to him.

In the past few days, he had seen too many hands that pushed him into the abyss—Situ Jie's hands, Huo Zhaotang's hands, Zhang Chongbang's hands.

And now, in this prison filled with sin, on this criminal whom he once regarded as scum, he actually saw a hand that wanted to help him up.

How ironic.

How warm it is!

At this moment, Qiu Gang'ao's long-closed and cold heart seemed to be smashed open by this heavy hammer, creating a crack.

He hesitated.

His fingers scratched at the wet, slippery ground.

Finally, he gritted his teeth, mustered all his strength, and stretched out his blood-stained hand to tightly grasp Ah Zheng's hand.

"Thanks."

The voice was weak, yet firm.

"Thank me for what? We're all in the same boat."

A-Zheng pulled hard, dragging Qiu Gang'ao up from the ground and hoisting him onto his shoulder.

"Come on, let's go back to our room. Ah Wu still has half a bottle of his secret stash of good wine at his place tonight; you're in luck."

Qiu Gang'ao leaned on A Zheng and limped out.

Although my body is in excruciating pain, and the road ahead remains dark.

But he knew that some things had changed.

Qiu Gang'ao, who once believed in the law and justice, died completely in this bathhouse.

And "A'ao," who is about to dance with evil and search for light in the darkness, is being helped by his two fellow inmates to take steps toward his new life.

Ah Zheng patted him on the shoulder, took out the flattened pack of Marlboros from his pocket again, pulled one out and put it in Qiu Gang'ao's mouth, then lit it for him.

"Have a smoke to calm your nerves. Starting tomorrow, you'll practice boxing with Ah Wu. Your grappling skills are fine for catching thieves outside, but for fighting here? Too refined!"

"How's it going, bro?" Ah Zheng shouted at Ah Wu.

"You'll have to pay more."

A-Wu replied coolly, but a very rare, extremely slight smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Qiu Gang'ao took a deep drag on his cigarette. The acrid smoke filled his lungs, making him feel dizzy, but also giving him an unprecedented sense of clarity.