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

In the early winter of 1983, the waves of Victoria Harbour crashed against the embankment with a dull thud, as if foreshadowing an even greater storm about to engulf this bustling city. Meanwhile, in the shadows of Tsim Sha Tsui, the Ni family empire, which had been maintaining a fragile balance, was plunged into irrecoverable internal strife due to a few seemingly insignificant pieces of intelligence.

While Ni Yongxiao was hiding in his ancestral home, his heart aching and his murderous intent boiling over because of the videotape that exposed his father's killer, the "distillery" had already extended its tentacles to the four leaders under the Ni family.

These four men—Gandhi, Blackie, Guohua, and Wenzheng—were Ni Kun's four henchmen, the cornerstone of the Ni family's domineering rule in Tsim Sha Tsui and even the entire Kowloon. However, people's hearts are unfathomable, and in the face of absolute interests and selfish desires, so-called "brotherly affection" is more fragile than a piece of soaked rice paper.

……

Late at night, inside Gandhi's private villa.

As the wealthiest and most powerful of the four leaders, Gandhi was currently lounging in a spacious silk sofa, swirling a glass of expensive brandy between his fingers. In front of him lay an envelope, delivered ten minutes earlier by a young man who claimed to have been paid HK$100 to run an errand for him.

After confirming that there were no hidden weapons or explosives in the envelope, Gandhi opened it with great suspicion.

What came into view was a stack of high-resolution photos and several detailed, outrageously detailed account lists.

"Snapped!"

With a crisp shattering sound, the crystal glass was slammed to the ground, the amber liquid instantly splashing onto the pair of elegant leather shoes. Under the lamplight, Gandhi's face went from flushed to ashen, and finally turned a purplish-black, like that of a corpse.

In the photo, the woman he doted on, for whom he even deposited a huge sum of money in a Swiss bank, is rolling naked in bed with another man. And that man's profile—even Gandhi would recognize him if he were ashes! It's Guohua, his sworn brother who always greeted him with a smile as "Big Brother" at the negotiating table.

What devastated Gandhi even more was another piece of evidence: a betrayal from another close friend.

Three months ago, he teamed up with Blackie to buy a shipment worth ten million, intending to sell it themselves in Hong Kong. However, after receiving the goods, they were double-crossed; the goods disappeared, and they still haven't found out who the culprit was. Unexpectedly, the goods ended up in Blackie's warehouse.

The black man not only swallowed his goods, but also resold them to the Wo Luen Shing people, making a fortune, but pretended to be a poor and miserable person with a failing business in front of the Gandhi leaders.

"Guohua... black devil..."

Gandhi's voice was hoarse, as if his throat were filled with shards of glass. He felt an unprecedented humiliation, the shame of being manipulated by his closest and most trusted brothers, which burned through his reason like a poisonous fire.

He suddenly stood up, pushed open the hidden door to the study, and pulled out a gleaming Colt High Power revolver from the safe.

"Guards! Drag that woman over here!"

A moment later, Gandhi's young and beautiful wife was roughly dragged into the living room by two of his men. She was clearly unaware of what was happening, and was complaining sleepily while wearing a silk nightgown.

"Gandhi, what are you doing? She just fell asleep..."

Before he could finish speaking, Gandhi threw the stack of photos hard at her face.

The woman's face turned deathly pale instantly. Looking at her own wanton and dissolute expressions in the photos, she trembled violently.

"This...this is fake! Gandhi, let me explain, it's Guohua! It's that beast Guohua! He tricked me into going drinking, he drugged my drink, he raped me, and he even threatened me with the video. I didn't dare tell you..."

The woman knelt on the ground, tears streaming down her face, and tried to grab Gandhi's trouser leg.

Gandhi looked down at her coldly, his eyes filled with nothing but utter disgust, devoid of any pity. Though he was lustful, he wasn't stupid. The woman in the photograph clearly looked entranced; there was no sign of coercion whatsoever.

"A sleeping potion?" Gandhi sneered, slowly pulling the trigger of his revolver. "Then let's go to the underworld and find the sleeping potion."

"Bang!"

A muffled gunshot rang out, abruptly ending the woman's scream. Blood splattered onto Gandhi's expensive carpet, blooming into a bewitching yet desperate flower of crimson.

Gandhi didn't even glance at the corpse on the ground, and roared directly at his men waiting outside the door:

"Gather everyone! Grab your weapons, first to Guohua's nightclub, then to Blackie's warehouse! I'll make sure those two bastards don't see the sun tomorrow!"

……

While Gandhi was preparing to unleash a massacre, on the other side of Tsim Sha Tsui, Kwok Wah and Blackie were not idle either.

On their desks, there was also a piece of intelligence sent by a mysterious person.

"Gandhi already knows you slept with his wife, and he also knows I stole his goods." The black man wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his eyes filled with malice and fear. "The messenger said Gandhi will settle accounts with us tonight."

Guohua's face also turned ferocious at this moment. He knew Gandhi's temper too well. If the other party found out that he had slept with his wife, and not just once, he would definitely be finished.

"Gandhi has over two hundred brave and daring henchmen, and he has more weapons than us." Guohua gritted his teeth, his lighter clicking incessantly. "If we were to face him one-on-one, we wouldn't even have bones left."

"Let's cooperate," the black man suddenly looked up, staring at Guohua. "That old guy has always exploited us. Since he wants us dead, let's join forces and take him down first! The Ni family is currently overwhelmed with problems with their supply chain and can't afford to worry about us. Once Gandhi is dead, we'll split his territory and goods equally!"

"Okay! Let's cooperate!"

The two immediately reached a consensus and quickly mobilized their most elite henchmen.

One o'clock in the morning.

More than ten vans and cars screeched to a halt in front of the nightclub. Gandhi, wearing a black leather jacket and carrying a revolver, was the first to jump out of the vehicle.

"Guohua! Get the hell out here!"

Gandhi's roar echoed through the empty streets.

However, his response was not a plea for mercy, but rather several long guns thrust out of the second-floor windows of the nightclub. The dark muzzles gleamed coldly under the neon lights.

"Gandhi, since you disregarded our past friendship first, don't blame your brothers for turning their backs on you!"

Guohua's voice came through the loudspeaker, carrying a harsh, metallic quality.

Gandhi's heart skipped a beat, and his eyes twitched with surprise and doubt. He had thought he was catching his opponent off guard, but he hadn't expected that they were already on high alert. What alarmed him even more was that the black man's iconic Mercedes was parked across the back door.

"Those two bastards really did team up!"

Gandhi gripped the gun handle tightly. Looking at the enemy's formidable force, the cold wind cleared his head considerably—if he were to fight to the death here tonight, even if he won, it would be a Pyrrhic victory, and he would only exhaust himself, allowing others to take advantage of the situation. It was simply not worth it.

"Retreat! Retreat first!" Gandhi gritted his teeth, intending to defeat the two one by one once they were separated.

However, just as Gandhi turned around to get into the car...

"Bang!"

A crisp gunshot rang out from Gandhi's camp.

The shot didn't hit Guohua on the second floor, but instead precisely shattered a giant neon light at the nightclub's main entrance.

"Splash!"

The sound of shattering glass became the final spark that ignited the powder keg.

That was an agent planted by Lu Chen under Gandhi's command, disguised as an ordinary henchman due to the strict training of the "distillery".

At the most critical moment, he fired the shot.

"Dare to fire? Shoot!"

Seeing that the other side had already made a move, Blackie and Guohua dared not hesitate any longer. In an instant, dense tongues of fire intertwined at both ends of the street.

"Rat-a-tat-tat—!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The night in Tsim Sha Tsui was filled with the smoke of gunpowder and screams.

One of Gandhi's men had his skull ripped open on the spot, and blood splattered onto Gandhi's face. This drove Gandhi completely insane.

"Damn it! Kill them all! Leave no one alive!"

The two sides engaged in hand-to-hand combat at the entrance of the nightclub. Broken glass, bullet casings, and muddy water mixed with blood transformed this former den of iniquity into a scene of carnage.

The firefight lasted a full twenty minutes. Only when the piercing sound of police sirens rang out in the distance did both sides, with casualties on both sides, hastily withdraw their forces.

Gandhi was shot in the left arm, half of Guohua's nightclub was burned down, and the black man's top henchman also died in the chaos.

The feud was now completely formed.

……

The day after the fire.

The air in Tsim Sha Tsui still carried a lingering smell of gunpowder.

Gandhi did not choose to complain to Ni Yongxiao. He knew that Ni Yongxiao, for the sake of balance, would likely ask him to "consider the bigger picture".

He doesn't need mediation; he wants revenge.

So, despite his pain, Gandhi secretly met with the last of the four leaders—Wen Zheng.

Wen Zheng was the youngest and most shrewd of the four. He usually maintained a neutral stance, siding with whichever side was stronger.

In a stuffy sauna, Gandhi offered an irresistible deal.

"Wen Zheng, Blackie and Guo Hua have joined forces. If I fall, they'll definitely turn their guns on you." Gandhi puffed on his cigar, his eyes turning somewhat ferocious with anger. "If you help me, Blackie's three streets will be yours, and I'll give you 20% of the South American supplies."

Wen Zheng licked his lips and chuckled, "Brother Gandhi, why didn't you say so earlier? The kind of bastards I, Wen Zheng, despise the most in my life are those who sleep with their older brothers' wives. Count me in."

At this point, the four leaders of the Ni family officially split into two equally matched camps: Gandhi and Wen Zheng versus Black Ghost and Guo Hua.

The Ni family, which was once an unbreakable unit, is now riddled with problems.

……

At this time, the Ni family ancestral home was...

Ni Yongxiao was sitting in his study, with several photos from the scene on the table. He watched as those who were supposed to be the backbone of the Ni family fought bloody battles, but his eyes remained unmoved.

"Ah-Hsiao, are you really not going to do anything about it?" Uncle San stood to the side with some worry. "If they keep causing this trouble, the police will be under a lot of pressure. Huang Zhicheng is just looking for an excuse to take action against us."

Ni Yongxiao took out a jade thumb ring and gently rubbed it between his fingers; it was a keepsake from his father, Ni Kun.

"Third Uncle, do you think it's easier to manage a few obedient dogs, or a few wolves who are always thinking about devouring their master?"

Ni Yongxiao's voice was so flat it was chilling.

"These four men, though they're my father's subordinates, have long harbored ulterior motives. Third Uncle, have you forgotten how they treated us six months ago? The Ni family needs these disloyal 'veterans' the last thing we need now. Since they want to fight, let them fight to their hearts' content. Once they've fought enough, I'll clean up the mess."

Ni Yongxiao picked up the phone and relayed a message to Gandhi and the others:

"Make a fuss as you please, but don't miss your monthly payments. Also, don't make things too difficult for the police, or I won't be able to protect you either."

In short, he was extremely indifferent and extremely arrogant. Not only did he not stop them, but he also gave both sides the "permission" to continue tearing each other apart, and even took the initiative to feed these jackals a few pieces of meat.

at the same time.

A secluded pier in Kowloon.

The cold night wind whipped up the waves, and a dilapidated fishing boat silently docked at the shore.

The cabin door opened, and Lin Kun, wearing a faded gray shirt, slowly walked onto the dock. Behind him followed twenty burly Shan State Army assassins with eyes that revealed the wildness of the jungle.

These people all carried a faint smell of gunpowder and blood, marks left by years of fighting in the rainforest.

"Brother Kun, things haven't been peaceful in Hong Kong lately..." one of his men gave Lin Kun a brief report on recent events.

Lin Kun pushed up his glasses and looked at the brightly lit Central district in the distance, which was faintly visible.

"Ni Yongxiao, Chen Jiaju..."

Lin Kun muttered to himself, then turned the photograph into ashes and scattered them into the sea with the wind.

"The fighting in Tsim Sha Tsui is so intense right now, it seems like even God is on my side."

Lin Kun sneered, a venomous glint flashing in his eyes.

"Since the water has already been stirred up, I'll add fuel to the fire."