Hong Kong film: Rise of Prison Break

While distracting Qian Wendi with words, he waited for the moment when the arm would fall and touch his shoulder, the moment when the body's reaction was slightly slower and a defensive gap would open.

Qian Wendi's hand finally fell.

Just as he was about to touch Kindaichi's shoulder...

"Oh...brother..." Qian Wendi's lips curled into a cold, sarcastic smile. His arm, which was about to fall, suddenly changed its trajectory. Instead of patting the shoulder, it swiftly moved diagonally to block!

Almost at the same moment, a fierce glint flashed in Kindaichi's eyes!

The left hand, which had been hidden behind the car door, suddenly swung out!

With a "whoosh," the folding machete sprang open, its gleaming blade whistling through the air, and slashed upwards like a venomous snake toward Qian Wendi's vital chest and abdomen!

This strike was premeditated, swift, and ruthless!

However, Qian Wendi's arm, which had moved laterally in advance, landed precisely on the inside of Jin Tianqi's wrist as he held the knife.

Although it didn't completely block the blade, it greatly deflected its trajectory. The sharp blade grazed Qian Wendi's clothes, only making a small cut.

"Thank you... for taking such good care of Lili." Qian Wendi said these words coldly as he blocked the attack, each word like a shard of poison.

Kindaichi's sword missed its mark, and he was greatly alarmed. Just as he was about to change his move or retreat, he saw that Qian Wendi's empty left hand had somehow pulled out a black object that looked like a large pistol from his waist.

Those weren't gun muzzles, but two metal contacts flashing with eerie blue arcs of electricity.

"Click-click!!" Two soft popping sounds, like electrical short circuits.

Jin Tianqi didn't even see what it was before he felt an indescribable, violent numbness and pain explode in his chest!

It felt as if countless red-hot steel needles were piercing my body, or as if I had been directly hit by a high-voltage electric shock!

His muscles were spasming and twitching uncontrollably, his eyes were wide open and almost bulging out of their sockets, and his mouth was wide open but could only make a "hoarse" sound.

The machete in his hand fell to the ground with a clatter. He was like someone having an epileptic seizure, waving his arms and legs wildly and trembling violently. Then, with a thud, he collapsed to the ground like a lump of mud, white foam spilling from the corners of his mouth, his body still twitching.

Qian Wendi coldly looked at Jin Tianqi, who was convulsing on the ground like a shrimp out of water, and put away the stun gun.

He bent down, picked up the fallen folding machete, and weighed it in his hand.

Then, he walked to Jin Tianqi's side, squatted down, and gently patted Jin Tianqi's pale, sweaty cheeks with the cool blade of his knife. Finally, he slowly moved the sharp tip of the knife down and pressed it against Jin Tianqi's genitals between his legs.

Although Jin Tianqi was paralyzed all over and in excruciating pain, he had not completely lost his mind.

Feeling the icy, bone-chilling threat and faint stinging pain in his groin, he was terrified out of his wits. With the last of his strength, he frantically shook his head with barely audible movements, making muffled "woo-woo" sounds mixed with fear and pleas for mercy.

"When you're in the game, there's this saying: brothers are like limbs, women are like clothes..." Qian Wendi leaned close to his ear, his voice low and devilish, "If you want to wear clothes, you'll have to ask... your 'limbs' brothers if they're willing, hmm?"

The tip of the knife pressed down a little further.

Tears and snot streamed down Kindaichi's face, his eyes filled with desperate pleading.

"This kind of place is definitely not a good place to reminisce about the past."

Qian Wendi stood up, took out the stun gun again, and fired two more shots at Jin Tianqi's still convulsing chest without expression.

"Da da!"

Jin Tianqi's body arched upwards suddenly, then went completely limp, leaving only weak twitches.

Qian Wendi grabbed Jin Tianqi by the hair like he was dragging a bag of garbage and roughly dragged his limp body toward the back of the van.

He opened the car door and shoved him in with a loud thud.

He returned to the driver's seat and started the engine.

The dilapidated bread truck roared like an asthma, spewing out a plume of black smoke, and quickly drove away from the scene.

Only the Toyota sedan remained, its doors wide open, its hazard lights flashing lonely and rhythmically, illuminating the desolate, empty road.

A moment later, a rustling sound came from the grove of trees by the roadside.

A sharp-looking man wearing a gray jacket and sporting a neat buzz cut walked out, carrying a small professional video camera.

He glanced around warily, then pressed the earpiece hidden under his collar and whispered, "Brother Jie, Target A has been taken away by Target B. The whole process has been recorded. The scene is clean."

Zhang Wenjie's calm and even voice came through the earpiece: "Clean up the scene, drive the car away, and dispose of it."

"Received," the man with the buzz cut replied briefly.

He carefully put the camera into the black backpack behind him, then quickly walked to the Toyota sedan, nimbly climbed into the driver's seat, closed the door, turned off the hazard lights, started the car, and soon disappeared at the end of the road.

---

Almost at the same time, upstairs from a noisy dai pai dong (open-air food stall) near Kowloon Walled City, with a neon sign that read "Si Hai Seafood Restaurant".

In a side room on the top floor, usually used for storing miscellaneous items, the atmosphere was the complete opposite of the noisy and bustling scene downstairs; it was extremely cold and desolate.

Five or six gangsters with dragon and tiger tattoos and fierce faces were kneeling on the cold cement floor, trembling with fear.

Before them stood two expressionless men with fierce eyes, each holding a AK-47 automatic rifle that gleamed with a dark metallic sheen. The muzzles of the rifles were pointed at them mercilessly, as if they might spit out deadly flames at any moment.

A middle-aged man wearing a leather jacket and with a prominent scar on his face was "Crocodile Guy," a local notorious figure.

At this moment, the crocodile man was given special "care" and was made to kneel alone at the very front.

He was sweating profusely, trying to straighten his back and appear calm, but his trembling legs betrayed his inner fear.

Liao Zhiwei pushed aside one of his armed men and slowly walked up to Crocodile Man.

He was toying with an old-fashioned but well-maintained, unusually heavy revolver in his hand, the muzzle gleaming coldly in the dim light.

He bent down and playfully nudged the crocodile man's sweaty forehead with the still-hot barrel of his gun.

"Haha, Crocodile Bro," Liao Zhiwei grinned, but his smile was devoid of warmth. "Sorry for interrupting your late-night snack. I think... you won't mind, will you?"

The crocodile man swallowed hard, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at the man who should have "disappeared" in last year's dockside shootout: "Liao... Liao Zhiwei?! You... weren't you already dead?!"

"You didn't die either!" Liao Zhiwei tapped his face with the barrel of his gun, making a soft slapping sound.