Hong Kong film: Rise of Prison Break

"Vulnerable."

Zhang Wenjie flicked his cigarette ash, his gaze sweeping over the mess on the ground and the three groaning figures. He spat, "Trying to talk about territory? I'll sweep two streets clean for you. Even Jiang Tiansheng wouldn't dare to utter a sound to me! Hung Hing? Bah!"

His last shout was exceptionally loud, clearly audible even in the bustling night market.

Since it's a place under the protection of Hung Hing, and the commotion is so big, the main party arrived very quickly.

The crowd was roughly pushed aside, and a group of more than ten people stormed in aggressively.

The leader was a short, stocky man with a buzz cut, his floral shirt open to reveal the ferocious beast tattoos covering his chest, his face full of fleshy muscles, but his eyes gleaming with sharp light.

It was Big B who was in charge of this territory.

"Which boss is so interested in arguing with my underlings?"

Big B had a smile on his face, but his eyes were cold as they fell on Zhang Wenjie's face, which was stained with blood and had a ferocious, grotesque appearance.

His henchmen spread out in a fan shape behind him, all reaching for their lower backs.

"Hey," Zhang Wenjie chuckled, grabbed a few rough napkins, and wiped his face haphazardly. The scraps of paper stuck to the scabs looked rather comical.

"Who do we have here? Oh, it's B-boy..."

The moment the words "B-boy" were uttered, Big B's fake smile froze instantly and slowly faded.

The expressions on the faces of his henchmen behind him also changed.

How long has it been since anyone dared to call him that to his face?

"Who the hell are you?" Big B's voice turned cold, filled with anger. "How dare you address Mr. Chiang by his name like that? You're not leaving Temple Street alive without leaving something behind!"

That's how it is when you're in a gang; right and wrong are often the least important things.

The key is to seize an opportunity, control the situation, and establish authority in front of everyone; Big B is well-versed in this.

"Heh," Zhang Wenjie casually tossed the stained paper aside, a half-smile playing on his lips. "B-boy, it's been years, you've grown quite the big shot. I just wonder if you still remember who was the golden touch back then, betraying Brother Long..."

Big B's pupils suddenly contracted, but he quickly suppressed them and said sternly, "I, Big B, live by loyalty! How could I betray Brother Long? You…"

He stared intently at Zhang Wenjie's face, his mind racing, when suddenly a nearly forgotten image surfaced, overlapping with the repulsive face before him.

"...It's you! Big Meow! You bastard, weren't you sentenced to life imprisonment and sitting in Stanley? How dare you escape from prison?!"

He grasped at a straw, his voice suddenly rising, both to those around him and to embolden himself.

"Alright! You've escaped from prison and have no money, huh? No problem! I, Big B, am a loyal friend and always ready to 'stab' my gang brothers in the back'—today I'll send you back to Stanley to get shot!"

With that, he waved his hand sharply: "Go! Seize this fugitive!"

"superior!"

More than a dozen henchmen pulled out sticks, water pipes, and even two gleaming watermelon knives that they had prepared beforehand, and rushed forward while shouting.

Leading the charge was a young man with medium-length hair, his eyes fierce and silent. A cold glint flashed in his hand as he wielded a watermelon knife, aiming straight for Zhang Wenjie's neck!

Their movements were quick and cunning, driven by a reckless, almost suicidal, spirit.

"I hate people who are neither male nor female the most!" Zhang Wenjie snorted, turning to the side, twisting his waist, and reaching out his hand with fluid movements.

While dodging the blade, his left hand shot out like a venomous snake, the back of his hand and the knuckles slamming hard into the long-haired boy's cheekbone.

Before the other person could fall to the ground, he had already grabbed the wrist holding the knife and executed a clean and swift over-the-shoulder throw!

"Brother Nan!" came the exclamations of the other underlings from behind.

Without even looking, Zhang Wenjie kicked "Brother Nan" hard in the ribs as he struggled to get up.

The boy groaned as he was kicked and slid a long way along the ground, only stopping when he crashed into the stove. He couldn't get up for a moment.

"Is that all you've got?" Zhang Wenjie was like a tiger among sheep, his fists, feet, elbows, and knees all weapons.

Each strike was powerful, precise, and ruthless.

Those wielding sticks were disarmed and counterattacked by him at close range, while those wielding knives had their joints pinned down by him with even greater speed.

Thuds and screams filled the air as figures flew backward, smashing tables, chairs, and dishes, leaving a scene of utter chaos.

In just a short while, very few Hung Hing members were still standing.

Zhang Wenjie stepped over the groaning bodies on the ground, slowly walked up to the pale-faced Big B, and looked down at him condescendingly.

Big B instinctively tried to back away, but his shoulder was firmly gripped by a hand as strong as an iron clamp.

"B-boy," Zhang Wenjie whispered, his voice laced with a bloodthirsty mockery, almost touching his ear, "this is the kind of trash you're training? What goes around comes around. It's better to be taken down by your own people than by your enemies, right? I'm just teaching your underlings."

With his other hand, he took out a cigarette case, skillfully flicked out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and shook the case again, letting a cigarette pop out.

He held the cigarette pack to Big B's lips, his eyes as cold as ice: "What, not going to do me the honor?"

Big B's Adam's apple bobbed, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

Under the invisible pressure from the other party, he stiffly lowered his head slightly and put the cigarette in his mouth.

"Snap."

Zhang Wenjie lit the fire first, and the flames illuminated the fear in Big B's eyes.

Then he lit it for himself, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled the blue smoke.

He pointed to the long-haired boy in the distance, who was barely able to sit up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, yet still glaring at him intently. "That long-haired kid, he's got some potential. Ruthless enough, and he's composed, but still a bit green. B-boy, what's this kid's name?"

Big B followed his gaze, his voice hoarse: "...Chen Haonan."

"Chan Ho-nam..." Zhang Wenjie read it aloud, then nodded. "Not a bad name. With some polishing, he might just make it big."

He flicked his cigarette ash, his tone suddenly turning cold, carrying a chilling edge: "Originally, I just wanted to have a quiet late-night snack and then catch up with Brother Kei. I didn't expect that you, B, would become such a big shot after all these years, managing such a lucrative territory... Chiang Tin-sang, he's been good to you, hasn't he?" He deliberately emphasized the pronunciation of the word "Chiang".

Big B's expression changed: "Big Mimi, just say what you mean! Stop beating around the bush! I remember you were sentenced to life imprisonment. Instead of swaggering around here, why don't you run away after you escape?"

"Run away?" Zhang Wenjie laughed, but there was no warmth in his smile. "You need travel expenses to run away. I was just... planning to ask that guy surnamed Jiang for some travel money."

"Big Meow!" Big B suddenly raised his voice, trying to regain some momentum, "You've disrespected Mr. Jiang time and time again, do you really think I wouldn't dare to touch you?!"

He had to maintain a facade of "loyalty" in front of his younger brother, even though he was already feeling guilty inside.

Zhang Wenjie didn't reply, but just gave him a deep look, a gaze that seemed to penetrate his skin and reach the deepest, most shameful secrets of his soul.

Big B felt a chill run down his spine from his gaze, and a barely perceptible look of panic flashed deep in his eyes.