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

In 1983, the skyscrapers of Central on Hong Kong Island stood tall, a badge of honor that the British Empire was trying to deceive itself with, proving that the colony continued to prosper through their fingers. But deep within the shadow of power, an uneasy undercurrent was already surging.

As negotiations between the two sides on the Hong Kong issue deepened, those forces entrenched in the shadows sensed the approaching twilight of an empire. For ordinary people, it was merely headline news; but for some, it was a rehearsal for a reckoning concerning their very survival.

Hong Kong Island Customs Headquarters, penthouse.

Inside the spacious office, an expensive Persian carpet absorbed all footsteps, and the air was filled with the aroma of top-quality cigars and aged bourbon. Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, ships streamed into and out of Victoria Harbour, each cargo ship that entered the harbor letting countless grains of sand slip through the owner's fingers.

Commissioner Thomas, a high-ranking official who had risen through the ranks in the British colonial bureaucracy, stood with his hands behind his back by the window. He wore a sharp English three-piece suit, and his silver sideburns were meticulously groomed; he looked every bit the elegant and righteous guardian of the law.

However, in the smuggling trade in Hong Kong Island and throughout East Asia, he had another chilling identity—the true mastermind behind the "Nakajima Group".

"Useless...all of them are useless."

Thomas didn't turn around; his voice was as calm as still water, yet it sent chills down the spines of the subordinates kneeling behind him.

"In Pattaya, six professional assassins couldn't even take down an accountant who only knew how to do accounting, and were instead completely outmaneuvered by a few clown-like thugs?" Thomas turned around, his blue eyes flashing with a chilling ferocity.

Ma Wenjian's defection was a "betrayal" that Thomas had not anticipated, yet it was also entirely logical. As negotiations progressed, the timid but extremely astute chief accountant realized that the return of Hong Kong Island to China was a foregone conclusion. Once sovereignty changed hands, smuggling empires like the Zhongdao Group, which relied on colonial privileges, would inevitably be uprooted by the powerful government in the north.

Ma Wenjian wanted to extricate himself from the situation and use the ledgers to obtain immunity from Interpol so he could live a lavish life in his later years.

"Boss, Ma Wenjian has gone to Malaysia with that woman from Interpol," a deputy reported nervously. "We found in his secret call records that he has been making frequent bank transactions in Malaysia and Singapore over the past six months, especially with Maybank in Kuala Lumpur."

Thomas sneered, his fingertips lightly stroking a bronze Buddha head on the table—his trophy from smuggling cultural relics.

"A coward like him would never keep evidence in an apartment that could be searched at any time. The Maybank safe deposit box is his only trump card." Thomas's eyes narrowed, revealing a cruel determination. "Since Interpol wants justice, I'll give them a taste of hell. Sang, take some men to Kuala Lumpur."

In the shadowy corner, an Asian man of medium build and unremarkable appearance—so plain he'd blend into a crowd—slowly stood up. He didn't speak, only lowered his head slightly; his emotionless, lifeless eyes revealed an absolute efficiency that transcended human emotion.

Sang, Thomas's sharpest, most silent, and most unruly subordinate.

"Ma Wenjian is dead, and the ledgers must be retrieved. As for those Interpol agents and those troublesome 'lucky stars'..." Thomas waved his hand, as if shooing away flies, "bury them in the rubber plantations of Malaysia. Hurry up, although Ma Wenjian doesn't know I'm behind it all, I don't want to take any risks."

……

Meanwhile, at an altitude of 30,000 feet.

Inside the business class of a commercial airliner bound for Kuala Lumpur, the previously tranquil atmosphere was being broken by bursts of suppressed laughter and arguments.

"Hey, Ginseng, could you please put your comb away? We're on an airplane, not in a barbershop!" Rhino Skin irritably pushed away the comb that Ginseng was offering.

Ginseng touched her messy hair and scoffed, "Old Pi, you don't know anything! I'm preparing for my trip to Malaysia. What if I meet my soulmate in Kuala Lumpur and she insists on chasing me with a hundred million and a sports car? This outfit is my battle armor!"

"You call that a battle robe? Your outfit is more like an unearthed artifact reappearing in the world," Luo Han Guo mumbled, munching on a chicken leg from his airplane meal.

Da Shengdi was muttering incantations over the lemonade the flight attendant brought him: "Hurry, hurry, as the law commands! This water has been blessed; drinking it will bring you peace... Oh, flight attendant, would you like me to tell your fortune? I see a hint of a romantic calamity between your brows."

The flight attendant smiled awkwardly and looked pleadingly at Partridge Vegetable, who was sitting in the front row.

Partridge sighed helplessly. He now felt that the reward given by Superintendent Cao was really hard to come by. He turned his head and looked at the boy sitting on the other side of the aisle.

At this moment, Ya Zi was resting with her eyes closed. To her left, Ma Wenjian was huddled in his seat like a frightened bird, his hands tightly gripping the bronze mechanical key. Even the slightest turbulence from the plane would make him scream.

"Mr. Ma, relax." The boy didn't open his eyes, his voice was cold and clear. "We're on the plane now, no one can touch you. Even if they could, it would be after we get off the plane. Get some rest. There will definitely be a tough battle when we get to Kuala Lumpur."

"I'll cooperate... I'll cooperate fully," Ma Wenjian swallowed hard, his eyes filled with despair. "Sir, those guys from Nakajima are lunatics. They'll even kill special forces. Are we really going to take just these few men?"

He glanced at the Five Lucky Stars fighting over a chicken bone, and his despair deepened.

Ya Zi slightly opened her eyes, her gaze sweeping over the sea of ​​clouds outside the window, and the image of that man appeared in her mind.

"Going to Malaysia won't be the same as Pattaya's small-scale operation. Relying on just these few guys will probably cause a lot of trouble," Ya Zi thought to himself. "He just boasted about it a couple of days ago, and now it seems we really need to ask for help... Sigh."

……

Two hours later, at Subang International Airport, Kuala Lumpur.

A sleek, silver-white private jet landed smoothly on the VIP runway. The cabin door opened, and Lu Chen, accompanied by Ruan Wen in a black tuxedo, slowly descended the steps. They had just finished their "inspection" in Thailand, and Malaysia was the second stop on their "inspection."

"Boss, the hotel and itinerary have been arranged."

Tian Yangsheng stepped forward and took the briefcase from Lu Chen. He didn't get into the car immediately, but instead leaned close to Lu Chen's ear and whispered a report.

"Boss, we just received a report from the Shadow Squad that the Third Madam (Ya Zi) has landed in Kuala Lumpur, accompanied by the five 'Lucky Stars' and that Ma Wenjian."

Upon hearing this, Lu Chen paused slightly, a playful smile curving his lips.

"Ah Wen, it seems our trip to Malaysia will be much more exciting than we expected."

Ruan Wenmei's eyes flickered slightly, and she asked softly, "Is it because the matter with Ya Zi hasn't been resolved yet?"

"It's not just the kid," Lu Chen walked to the car seat, his brain instantly starting a global deduction, "I remember, recently the Malaysian police prison has been holding the wife of a big shot."

When Lu Chen saw Chen Jiaju in the jungle, he recalled the plot of "Super Cop".

Guanchai Ba, that ruthless bandit kingpin from Southeast Asia, is probably currently planning a spectacular prison break in Kuala Lumpur with his two undercover agents, Chen Jiaju and Yang Jianhua.

Thomas, that old fox from the Nakajima Group, obviously wouldn't sit idly by and watch Ma Wenjian take the ledgers.

Thomas, Nakajima Group, Ma Wenjian...

Crown Contestant, Chan Ka Kui, Swiss bank account...

Interpol, Five Lucky Stars, Kuala Lumpur Police...

In this parallel world where Hong Kong and mainland Chinese films are intertwined, the storylines of two movies that were originally independent of each other unexpectedly intertwine in the sweltering air of Kuala Lumpur.

Lu Chen turned his head and looked out the window at the increasingly bustling streets of Kuala Lumpur. In this era, the Petronas Twin Towers had not yet been built, but the desire for money here was already enough to pierce the sky.

"Ah Sheng, relay my orders."

"Have a team of cleaners sneak into the vicinity of Malayan Banking, and also notify the informants on Hong Kong Island to keep a close eye on the movements of Customs Commissioner Thomas—he is the mastermind behind Nakajima."

"Boss, what about Guan Cai Ba...?"

"I know you have a good relationship with that Chen Jiaju, so you can handle the contact there. Just follow the plan... As for Ya Zi, make sure she's safe. As for the rest, let her handle it. She knows what she's doing anyway." Lu Chen took a sip of whiskey, already having a plan in mind.

"This time," Lu Chen put down his wine glass, his gaze fixed on the distant Malayan Banking Corporation headquarters building, "it's a perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone."

The sky over Kuala Lumpur had darkened at some point, and a thunderstorm was brewing.

Malaysia is about to become the most brutal battlefield of this summer.