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

On October 1st, as the last rays of the setting sun were completely swallowed by the deep blue waters of Victoria Harbour, the Customs and Excise Department building appeared somewhat eerie under the moonlight, with a few lights reflecting the coldness unique to officialdom.

Inside the office, Thomas sank heavily into his leather swivel chair, the ashtray in front of him overflowing with cigarette butts. After confirming one last time by phone that the police had dropped their investigation into the Nakajima Group, his nerves, stretched to their limit, finally relaxed with a sense of relief.

"call--"

Thomas exhaled a long puff of smoke, and his face, which had been contorted with extreme anxiety, gradually regained the arrogance and composure befitting a customs chief.

"Heh, justice? Rule of law?" Thomas's lips curled into a mocking sneer.

As a seasoned Ansar colonial official, he knew all too well how these rules worked. Rules were meant to restrain the weak, but for someone like him who controlled the empire's "transfer business," rules were merely a fig leaf.

Although for the past month or so, that crazy woman named Yako had torn apart his Nakajima Group's entire smuggling network like a mad dog, destroying its strongholds, arresting its subordinates, and even making him, the customs chief, a burden in the eyes of Governor Youde, so what?

Even with the evidence gone and the witnesses dead, he remains the high-ranking customs chief. And as long as he holds that position, he has countless ways to make a comeback.

Moreover, his most hidden and largest warehouse in Saigon was not raided. It contained the finest collection of cultural relics he had plundered from the mainland through the Nakajima Group—bronze tripods from the Shang and Zhou dynasties, secret-color porcelain from the Tang dynasty, and priceless rare books from the Song and Yuan dynasties.

As long as this batch of goods remains, those old foxes in London will never abandon him. This is his most solid asset for making a comeback.

He stubbed out his cigar, straightened his well-tailored suit, and walked out of the office. To avoid attracting attention, he deliberately didn't use the government car with the Customs Director's insignia today, but instead had Sang prepare an extremely ordinary, even somewhat faded, dark gray Toyota sedan.

This common car model, seen everywhere in Hong Kong, has a natural camouflage effect in the night, and no one would guess that the powerful Customs Commissioner is sitting inside.

Sitting in the driver's seat was his last remaining top lieutenant, and his most trusted assassin—Sang. Sang's expression remained cold; due to the defeat in Malaysia last month, the murderous aura emanating from him had become even more restrained. He didn't speak, but after Thomas was settled, he smoothly started the engine.

The Toyota sedan, like a swimming fish, merged into the night along with the busy traffic of the Central Ring Road.

Sang was a master of counter-surveillance. He didn't drive directly to the New Territories. For the next half hour, he drove his Toyota around the bustling Central and Wan Chai areas repeatedly. He drove fast and slow, ran two red traffic lights, and even suddenly reversed when passing a dead end. He also made a feint at the entrance of an inconspicuous underground parking lot in a shopping mall.

Thomas was also observing through the rearview mirror. As a seasoned veteran in this line of work, he was quite adept at counter-following. After half an hour of this game, the Toyota was followed only by ordinary taxis and commuter cars; no vehicle showed any signs of persistent tailgating.

"Boss, it's clean now," Sang said coldly.

Thomas grinned maliciously: "To Tuen Mun, take the old route, quick!"

The Toyota emitted a quiet roar as it sped towards the edge of the Tuen Mun industrial area. In Thomas's view, he had shaken off all his pursuers.

However, he never dreamed that his so-called "anti-tracking techniques" were nothing more than child's play in the eyes of real experts.

About two hundred meters behind the Toyota, a dark blue taxi was following at a distance that wasn't too close. The driver was wearing headphones, humming a current pop song, but his eyes were frighteningly clear.

"The target has passed through the Kwai Chung Interchange. Enter from here, number two; proceed to the exit and wait for orders."

The driver's voice was clearly transmitted to the rear through a miniature microphone in his collar. This was the Windcatcher Squad, the newly formed special reconnaissance team under Lu Chen's command, personally trained by the alpha wolf Fu Longsheng.

Who is Fu Longsheng? He's a top-tier tracking master who spent ten years lurking in the shadows of Taiwan. Under his hellish training, this Windcatcher team has been completely transformed.

In the Hong Kong night, besides this dark blue taxi, there was a delivery van, two motorcycles driving side by side, and even a young man squatting in front of a convenience store drinking Vitasoy – all members of the Wind Chaser Squad.

Every two intersections, the vehicle responsible for following the lead will automatically break away, and another vehicle that has been pre-positioned in the blind spot will take over.

"Report: The target has made three meaningless U-turns; the target is still probing. All team members, remain silent and do not look up at him, even if he drives right in front of you."

The Wind Chaser team's headquarters was located in a secluded compartment of the Golden Harvest Building. On a huge electronic screen, the entire map of Hong Kong was covered with dense red dots, each dot representing a team member or a monitoring node.

The Toyota sedan eventually slowed down deep in an industrial area in Tuen Mun.

This is the most desolate corner of Tuen Mun, lined with rusty metal shipping containers and abandoned auto repair shops. The streetlights are dim, and the air is filled with a salty smell mixed with engine oil and seawater.

Sang stopped in front of a factory called "Xiangji Logistics".

The factory appeared to be closed, with its doors locked and piles of discarded tires at the base of the walls. Upon learning of the Saigon warehouse's exposure, Thomas immediately and urgently moved his collection to this warehouse.

"Boss, we're here. This is a new place I rented overnight the day before yesterday. The landlord is a relative of mine, absolutely reliable." Sang looked around as he quickly opened the heavy, rusty iron door.

Thomas jumped out of the car, his legs still a little weak from the shock. But he didn't care and rushed into the dimly lit warehouse.

When the emergency lights in the warehouse came on, rows of huge wooden crates tightly wrapped in shock-absorbing material and moisture-proof cloth came into view. Thomas's hands trembled as he tore open the seal on one of the crates, revealing a large Western Zhou Dynasty ding (a type of ancient Chinese cooking vessel) that gleamed with a cold bronze luster under the lights.

Seeing that these treasures were intact, Thomas finally couldn't help but let out a suppressed yet enthusiastic laugh.

"Young man, Superintendent Cao... So what if you won over that mess? As long as these things are still in my hands, I am the winner!" He stroked the cold bronze artifacts, his eyes greedy like those of a demon from hell.

Unbeknownst to him, less than 300 meters from the warehouse, on an abandoned water tower, a member of the "Windcatchers" was adjusting an infrared thermal imager.

"The location of the 'rat's den' has been confirmed. Warehouse No. 34, Tuen Mun Industrial and Trade Area, Cheung Kee Logistics."

……

The road to the top of the mountain leads to the Lu Family Manor.

In the nursery, Lu Qian was breathing evenly under Ruan Mei's care.

Lu Chen sat alone in his study, a cup of strong tea that had gone cold in front of him. Tian Yangsheng pushed open the door and entered, holding an encrypted briefing that had just been sent back from "Windcatchers".

"Boss, the fish are in the nest." Tian Yangsheng's voice was deep and stern. "The address is Warehouse No. 34, Tuen Mun. The Wind Catchers filmed Thomas and Sang entering. There were a lot of thick seals and crates inside. According to the infrared scan, the contents inside are very tightly packed, which is consistent with the storage characteristics of cultural relics."

Tian Yangsheng paused, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes: "Boss, just say the word, and within half an hour, I'll have the distillery raze that warehouse to the ground, and we'll bring back everything inside, leaving nothing behind."

Lu Chen took the briefing, his fingers lightly tracing the coordinates of "Tuen Mun," but his expression was surprisingly calm.

"No, have the Wind Chasers withdraw first, leaving only one team to monitor them," Lu Chen said calmly.

"Withdraw them?" Tian Yangsheng was taken aback. "Boss, that's Thomas's last resort. What if he arranges for the ships to leave port tonight..."

"With things so tense right now, he can't take it," Lu Chen stood up, walked to the bookshelf, and looked at the row of heavy history books. His tone was as steady as a mountain. "If we act now, we'll just be playing the role of 'outlaws.' Retrieving this collection is important, but it's far from enough to uproot Thomas and the deeply rotten Onsa power network behind him. In fact, a violent interception might alert them and allow those dark forces to hide even deeper."

Lu Chen wanted more than just these boxes of antiques; he wanted to completely eradicate these bandits who had ravaged this land for a century, morally, legally, and politically.

"Since Ma Wenjian's account book is torn to shreds, let's make a new 'account book'. Some accounts need to be settled not only with the Customs Service, but also with the fallen crown of the British Empire."

Lu Chen took out a special contact list from the deepest part of the drawer. It contained only one number—a private line that the old man had personally given him during his last trip to Beijing. The old man had patted him on the shoulder and said, "Young Lu, you're very thoughtful and capable. If you encounter any trouble outside, remember to call home."

I didn't expect to use this phone so soon.

The call connected quickly. The voice on the other end was steady and aged, yet it exuded a majestic aura that seemed to shake the world.

"Hello, is this Xiao Lu? Is there some important news you want to share?"

Lu Chen straightened his back, his tone more solemn than ever before: "Grandpa, I apologize for disturbing your rest. I've discovered a group of 'eldest sons who have been separated from their parents' in Hong Kong. An entire warehouse is filled with artifacts from our family that are thousands of years old. Now someone wants to forcibly take them to London to change their surnames. I think, as the head of the family, shouldn't we step in and intervene?"

As he spoke, Lu Chen explained the situation in detail.

A brief silence fell on the other end of the phone. Then, Lu Chen seemed to hear laughter that sounded like swords clashing.

"Very good. Xiao Lu, you've done a great job." The old man's voice became extremely forceful. "In family matters like this, outsiders might take sides, but we, as family members, must see it through to the end. Tell me, what kind of cooperation do you need?"

Lu Chen's eyes flashed with murderous intent, but his tone became increasingly calm: "Don't worry, I still have some influence in Hong Kong. I'll take care of the main tasks. I need you to make some moves on the 'diplomatic front,' and I also need you to lend me something. The specific plan is as follows..."

"Don't worry, everything you said is fine."

After hanging up the phone, Lu Chen leaned against the window, gazing at the sleeping Hong Kong in the distance. He knew that this phone call had sentenced Thomas to death, and it was the kind of death sentence that even Youde dared not reach out to save him under the overwhelming pressure.