A real killer playing a villain; the guy surnamed Zhen in Detective, run!

Old Gun stopped drinking.

"I'm going to tear it down." Lu Yuan's tone was no different from ordering food.

Old Gun placed his glass on the table without drinking. He stared at Lu Yuan for a full ten seconds, making sure the other wasn't joking.

"You're crazy."

"possible."

Old Gun took a breath, pulled an encrypted terminal from under the bar, unlocked it with his fingerprint, and brought up a real-time updated intelligence summary.

"You've caused too much trouble in Asia. The gods have fallen, the Asian money laundering network has been uprooted, and the entire Syndicate's upper echelons are in an uproar."

Old Gun pushed the screen over, "For the past seventy-two hours, they've been doing one thing: shrinking."

The screen displays a logistics scheduling map, with countless arrows converging from all over Europe to a single point.

"There is an underground transit depot in Eastern Europe, numbered K-17, which was originally a mine ammunition depot during the Cold War."

"The syndicate turned it into a central storage point for weapons, drugs, and illicit funds. Now they're stuffing all their assets scattered across the country into this place." Old Gun pointed to the coordinates, "lest you take them down one by one."

Lu Yuan looked at the coordinates, his lips expressionless. "How much stock?"

"Conservatively estimated, 300 tons of high-purity cocaine, 7,000 standard-issue weapons including anti-tank missiles, plus cash and gold worth 1.2 billion euros. All in one basket."

"it is good."

Old Gun was stunned. "What's so good about it?"

"They put all their eggs in one basket, so I don't have to make a second trip."

Old Gun snatched the terminal back: "Let me finish."

He pulled up the structural diagram of the K-17. The three-dimensional model unfolded, from the surface to the four underground levels, resembling an inverted honeycomb.

"Complete physical isolation, no network can penetrate. Three infrared-linked sentry posts on the perimeter, equipped with heavy machine guns, automatically firing. Once a human touches the heat-sensing zone, a barrage of bullets will cover them within 0.3 seconds."

"Internal patrols operate in three shifts around the clock, all heavily armed. Shift changes are irregular and randomly generated. There is only one entrance/exit, with triple verification: lead door, iris scan, and password."

Old Gun turned off the terminal and looked at Lu Yuan's left arm, which was still wrapped in gauze and oozing blood.

"You went to fight this all by yourself, with injuries?"

Lu Yuan picked up the printed copy of the structural diagram and ran his fingertips along the pipeline. His eyes stopped at a certain point.

The heating network, originally a mine ammunition depot from the Cold War era, retained its original heating system. The pipes were connected to the municipal main network and ran through a mezzanine three meters underground.

The pipe has a diameter of 900 millimeters, just enough for an adult male to pass through sideways. The pipe network intersects with the air intake of the ventilation fan on the second basement level, and the intersection point falls precisely in the scanning gap of the infrared sentry.

The coverage angle of the two hidden sentry posts creates a blind spot 0.7 meters wide at this location.

"Here." Lu Yuan pointed to the intersection with his fingertip.

"The ventilation fan completes one intake and exhaust cycle every 90 seconds. During the exhaust phase, the internal negative pressure reduces the fan blade speed by 40%, and the noise is enough to cover up the sound of metal friction."

"You'll get scalded."

"No. A wet cotton cloth with a heat-resistant coating can last for four minutes. For 120 meters, it will take me three minutes and ten seconds."

Old Gun grabbed the bottle and poured himself another glass. This time his hand was steady, because he had resigned himself to his fate.

Anyone who has worked with the Joker knows that if he says he can do it, he really can.

What do you need?

"C4, two kilograms. Delayed detonation stabilizer—the underground version, high-temperature resistant type. Industrial acid, the kind that can cut high-carbon steel."

Old Gun downed his drink in one gulp. "Give me eight hours."

......

The following night, at 11 PM.

Lu Yuan lay prone in a drainage ditch 200 meters outside K-17, his body wrapped in a wet fireproof cotton cloth, with an outer layer of heat-insulating paint he had bought from a hardware store.

The bandage on my left arm has been changed and is tied twice tighter than usual to prevent blood from seeping out. The temperature inside the heating pipes is high, and the smell of blood will be carried into the ventilation system by the airflow.

Inside the bag: two kilograms of C4 shaped explosives, packed in six waterproof aluminum boxes; three time-delay detonators, with the detonation time set at fifteen minutes.

A bottle of concentrated hydrofluoric acid is contained in a specially made polytetrafluoroethylene container.

The entrance to the heating pipeline is behind an abandoned power substation. The manhole cover is severely rusted, and the latch is made of high-carbon steel and is an old-fashioned padlock.

Lu Yuan squeezed the acid from the syringe and dripped it onto the lock core. The PTFE tube precisely guided the acid to the load-bearing point.

In thirty seconds, sixty percent of the lock cylinder was corroded away. Lu Yuan twisted it with a wrench, and the lock snapped.

It was very hot inside the pipe. Sixty-three degrees Celsius, a few degrees lower than expected, so he was lucky. Lu Yuan squeezed in sideways, his shoulder pressed against the pipe wall, the sheet metal sizzling as the heat insulation coating worked.

The crawling method was primitive: elbows and knees propelled the body alternately, like a snake wriggling inside a steel intestine. Condensation droplets on the tube walls evaporated instantly from the body heat on the face.

120 meters. Three minutes and ten seconds.

He counted the seconds, and when the low hum of the ventilation fan came from the front, Lu Yuan stopped.

Once the exhaust circulation started, the negative pressure pulled the air out of the pipes, causing the fan blades to slow down. He raised his hand and used acid to remove the last lock on the pipe network grille, then flipped himself out of the blind spot and landed on the crossbeam on the second basement level.

There was no sound, just like the sixth brother.

The core warehouse was below, with neatly stacked arms boxes, sealed drug barrels, and stacks of cash bricks wrapped in shrink film. The shaded area in the middle was just big enough for a person to move along the crossbeam.

Lu Yuan took out the first aluminum box of explosives from his luggage bag and was about to move it along the crossbeam to the position of the core load-bearing column.

Footsteps sounded, and four people turned in from the east passage, heading towards the core warehouse.

The leader's pace was half a beat faster than the other three, indicating he was in a hurry; some random event must have triggered an extra patrol.

Lu Yuan pressed his body flat, hiding in the dark corner above the crossbeam.

Four people passed below. They were fully armed. Night, the leader of the guards, twitched his nose; he smelled something.

The gauze on Lu Yuan's left arm was soaked through with sweat and blood in the hot pipes. A faint smell of rust mixed with the odor of protein decomposition diffused through the air conditioning system.

The lead guard raised his right fist and stopped. The other three dispersed, their guns pointing in different directions.

The leader took two steps alone directly under the beam and raised his head. He saw nothing; the dark corner above the beam was beyond his normal field of vision. He raised the muzzle of his gun further upward.

Lu Yuan loosened the crossbeam and hung upside down.

He crossed his legs and locked them around the guard's neck. Before the guard could pull the trigger, Lu Yuan's right hand, wielding a military blade, had already sliced ​​into the shoulder and neck seam of the bulletproof vest, rotating the blade forty-five degrees and shredding the vocal cords and carotid artery.