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

On the night of November 7th, in the Southern District of Hong Kong Island, a small villa.

The villa was not large, and the iron gate in front of it was rusty. The weeds in the garden were knee-high, indicating that no one had taken care of it for a long time.

The living room curtains were drawn tightly shut, the lights were on at their lowest setting, and a dozen or so foreigners were scattered on the sofa and floor without any regard for their image. Some were black, some were white, some were fat, some were thin, and some even had blood-stained bandages wrapped around their bodies.

The coffee table was cluttered with empty beer bottles and takeout containers. The cold oil from the char siu rice had congealed on the edges of the white food container; it was long since cooled. The air was filled with an unpleasant mixture of cheap tobacco, cheap perfume, and the smell of stale alcohol.

At first glance, they look like a group of unemployed illegal immigrants who smuggled themselves in from Eastern Europe or South Africa, but in fact they have a bloody name that strikes fear into the hearts of Europeans—the ZZ Liberation Front.

No one can say for sure where these fanatics came from. Starting in the 1970s, they suddenly grew rapidly in Europe, advocating so-called anarchism and shouting the political slogan of "breaking the corrupt system and liberating the oppressed," while secretly engaging in dirty tricks such as assassination, kidnapping, robbery, and cross-border terrorist attacks.

In the past five years alone, they have attacked two schools and a theater, and planned numerous vicious bombings targeting government institutions, resulting in hundreds of innocent deaths and injuries.

European countries hated them to the core, and their leader, Alexander Kluge, became the first super-future criminal to be wanted throughout the European Community since its founding.

Fortunately, last autumn, after a year-long, meticulous investigation, the British police finally located their secret headquarters in Exeter—an old house disguised as a remote farmhouse.

Subsequently, MI6 and Scotland Yard Counterterrorism Command quickly joined forces to organize an operation codenamed "Anvil". The commando team swiftly captured the key members of the Liberation Front who were gathered at the headquarters and found Kruger, the leader, in the basement, frantically burning classified documents.

When Kruger heard the commotion, he tried to escape through the window, but as soon as he climbed out the window, he was tackled by a police dog waiting outside and then taken away by counter-terrorism personnel who arrived at the scene.

The following day, newspapers across Europe were all reporting the good news on their front pages—the Exeter raid was a success, and the terrorist organization ZZ Liberation Front was completely wiped out.

However, Victor Roman was not among those arrested.

That day, the deputy leader of the Liberation Front was scouting locations in South London with two men, preparing for the next "business" deal, when he received the devastating news of the attack on headquarters. He promptly threw away his phone, stole a van with his two men, and headed west, managing to leave the country before the lockdown.

Immediately afterwards, he summoned the other surviving members through an emergency code within the organization, and using their remaining connections to hide and evade checkpoints with fake passports.

After struggling to survive in Eastern Europe and the Middle East for a while, they finally boarded a cargo ship bound for Hong Kong Island, spending more than half a month huddled in the cargo hold before settling down in this villa.

……

At this moment, Roman was standing in front of the sofa in the living room.

He was in his early forties, tall and thin, with his dark hair neatly combed. He wore a black shirt with the cuffs rolled up, and looked more like a refined university professor than a bloodthirsty extremist terrorist.

He clapped his hands: "Come here, everyone."

People scattered in various places slowly gathered together. Some were carrying beer bottles, some were smoking cigarettes, and their expressions all showed a hint of frustration and reluctance.

Roman glanced at them, took a deep breath, and said in a deliberately low voice, "I know what you're thinking. Hiding in Hong Kong, on the other side of the world, you're going to live like rats, hiding your identities and barely surviving?"

The surroundings were completely silent.

"I'm telling you—no!" Roman's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling ruthlessness. "We came to Hong Kong Island not to seek refuge."

"We want to declare to the world: the ZZ Liberation Front has not disappeared! We want to show London through our actions that as long as our leader is in prison, our fight will never cease! And let those politicians who think we're finished see just how much more they can stir up!"

A brief, deathly silence fell over the living room. Then, a burly Black man with a menacing face abruptly stood up, raised his fist, and shouted, "Kill them!"

"We have to rescue the leader!" Someone slammed their hand on the coffee table, and a beer bottle crashed to the ground.

"Rescue the leader! Flatten London!"

A dozen voices mingled together, accompanied by strange cries, whistles, and maniacal laughter, instantly igniting the previously lifeless living room with this bloody excitement.

Only a bald, middle-aged man sitting in the corner remained silent. He took a deep drag on his cigarette, looking at Roman through the wisps of smoke, his eyes devoid of warmth.

Roman waited quietly for the cheers to subside before raising a finger and adding, slowly and deliberately, "Within a week, I will have our names written in newspapers all over the world again."

The frenzied atmosphere inside the room instantly reached its peak.

……

After his men dispersed, Roman turned and went into his room.

The door had barely closed when the bald Dino Calvi slipped in. He was among the first group Roman brought out, and one of the few in the organization who could actually use his brain.

"Boss," Calvi said, closing the door and lowering his voice, "there are some things I need to tell you."

"speak."

"I know you want revenge for the leader, but we're in a bad situation right now," Calvi said, counting on his fingers. "To escape safely, we threw away most of our weapons. And the European foundations that were funding us cut off all contact immediately after the Exeter incident. Forget about buying new weapons, the brothers are barely able to afford food now."

He sighed: "To put it in Chinese terms—even a skilled cook can't cook without rice, boss."

Upon hearing this, Roman was not angry. Instead, he smiled mysteriously, walked to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out a Swiss bank card from an old book.

"The leader had prepared a backup plan before the incident," Roman slammed the bank card on the table. "There are three million US dollars in this card; it's the organization's emergency funds."

Calvi's eyes lit up immediately.

"Moreover, I have already contacted the Grim Reaper Group, the largest arms organization in Japan," Roman continued. "They have promised to provide us with a batch of top-of-the-line weapons, and out of consideration for our past relationship, they have offered a very favorable price."

"Really?!" Calvi's breathing quickened. "Does that mean we really have a chance to make a comeback?"

"Don't rush, I want more than just a comeback," Roman said, taking out several neatly cut newspapers from the drawer and laying them flat on the table. "Before that, take a look at this."

Calvi quickly moved closer and picked up the top one—the social section of the Asia Daily, which featured a group of foreign children in high-end school uniforms standing in front of a magnificent European-style building, smiling brightly. The headline read: "Adam Smith International School—Cradle of Diplomats' Children."

"This Adam Smith International School," Roman tapped his knuckles heavily on the newspaper photo, "is home to a large number of European diplomats stationed in Hong Kong, high-ranking politicians, and even the children of many foreign company shareholders... We'll go here after we get the weapons."

Calvi suddenly raised his head, his eyes revealing a cruel and excited glint.

"If we take over this school and kidnap these children, we can create immense international pressure, putting our guns directly on the Achilles' heel of the governments of Britain, France, and the United States, forcing them to sign amnesty decrees and release their leader. Incidentally, we'll also show those foundations that have run out of funding that we're not dead yet, and our capabilities remain. The funding will naturally come back when the time comes."

Calvi glanced at the clippings, then at Roman, and a smile slowly spread across his face: "As expected of the deputy leader!"

He rubbed his hands together excitedly and asked impatiently, "When can we get the guns?"

Roman smiled slightly, folded the newspaper, and put it back in the drawer.

"Three days later, there is an abandoned Nanfeng Textile Factory in Huangzhu Tunnel. We will exchange money for goods at that time."

"Understood!" Calvi licked his lips and let out a sinister chuckle.