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

Five meters away, on the equipment box.

Lu Yuan was using a mineral water bottle cap as a saucer to pour water for Lao Liu. The little orange cat buried its head in the cap, its tongue scraping against the metal box, making the cap spin and jingle.

He looked up at the stalemate in the rehearsal area, screwed on the cap of his water bottle, and walked over.

"Old Jin." Lu Yuan stopped at the edge of the mat.

"This set of movements has too many steps. It wouldn't be like this in actual combat, nor would it be suitable for Coach Xu now."

The rehearsal area fell silent.

Xu Changlin was wiping sweat with a towel, his hand resting on half of his face. Xiao Zhong nearly dropped his phone—what had this guy just said? A new actor, saying in front of the entire crew that the martial arts director's choreography was flawed?

Old Jin turned around. This rough man, who had been in the martial arts world for twenty years, looked at Lu Yuan with a relieved expression on his face, as if he had survived a disaster.

He took a step back and spread his hands.

"Mr. Lu, you're the expert, please take a look and tell me how to fix it. My brain just can't process this."

Xu Changlin stopped wiping his sweat completely. Xiao Zhong's phone fell onto the mat.

A seasoned martial arts instructor voluntarily handed over command to a new actor.

Lu Yuan stepped onto the soft mat. "Chain throw, deleted. Aerial scissor throw, deleted. Overhead throw, deleted."

Seventy percent of what Lao Jin had spent two days arranging was cut. Lao Jin didn't say a word.

"Teacher Xu's waist cannot withstand torque output. All movements that require waist rotation to generate force should be eliminated."

Lu Yuan raised his right hand, spread his five fingers, and slowly closed them.

"Change it to this."

His hand landed on Xu Changlin's forearm. His thumb pressed against the lateral aspect of the ulnar styloid process, while his index and middle fingers were inserted into the carpal tunnel.

"Joint compression. It does not require large-scale limb movements or waist strength; it uses the geometric angles of the opponent's bones to achieve restraint."

He released his grip, and Xu Changlin moved his wrists a couple of times; his fingers were numb.

Lu Yuan took a half step back, facing Xu Changlin, "Try it. Punch me in the chest."

Xu Changlin threw a straight punch with his lead hand, and it was quite fast. Lu Yuan's body shifted less than three centimeters, and the fist grazed past the outside of Xu Changlin's shoulder. At the same time, his front foot cut in at a very small angle, and the outer edge of his instep touched the inside of Xu Changlin's front ankle.

Xu Changlin's front foot was locked to the ground, and the momentum of his punch caused his upper body to lean forward, leaving his lower body unable to move. Lu Yuan's right palm slid up along the outer edge of Xu Changlin's forearm, the heel of his palm touching the outside of his elbow joint.

With a gentle push, Xu Changlin, who weighed 150 pounds, knelt down.

The elbow joint is locked in a subtle hyperextension angle by the palm heel; if the applicant increases the pressure by even half a kilogram, the elbow joint will immediately dislocate.

Xu Changlin knelt on the mat, looking down at his arm that was stuck.

Then he laughed, "Brilliant."

Lu Yuan let go and pulled him up.

"The logic of the entire fight should be changed like this: Teacher Xu, you are in charge of attacking. Use any wide, sweeping attacks you like—forehands, hooks, front kicks, anything. The bigger the range, the better. I'll handle the receiving. You don't need to use your waist at all; all the power should come from your opponent."

Old Jin, listening from the sidelines, slapped his thigh in disbelief. He used the opponent's attack energy to replace his own waist-based output. Xu Changlin just focused on attacking, while Lu Yuan handled all the technical difficulties.

Xu Changlin followed Lu Yuan's instructions and went through the entire modified set of movements.

The two exchanged blows on the mat. Every punch and kick Xu Changlin threw was neutralized by Lu Yuan with minimal displacement and joint control. His waist bore almost no torque, and the effect was even better than the set Lao Jin had put up before.

Every time Lu Yuan's fingers touched his knuckles, every time his toes caught a blind spot in the footwork, it carried a precision that sent chills down the spines of onlookers.

In the shadows behind the equipment cabinet, Jiang Yan's pen moved quickly across the surveying notebook.

"The goal is to fully translate the lethal techniques in the CQC system into non-lethal ones, with the precision of each combat movement controlled at the millimeter level. The mastery of human biomechanics has exceeded the theoretical upper limit of any known training system."

---

3 PM.

In the abandoned trading hall, Su Qinghan stood behind the monitor, her lips chapped.

"Departments, this is the final one."

Confirmations came through the walkie-talkies from each group.

The track camera's pulleys were oiled. The lighting crew locked all parameters. The recording boom's coverage radius was precisely set to the landing point of every single footstep.

Lu Yuan sat in the high-backed leather chair in the center of the trading hall.

He wore a black suit, his tie was loose, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. Documents were scattered on the floor.

His hand rested on the handrail, and he didn't move.

"Scene 63, One Shot—Action!"

Hit the board.

The track machine began to slide.

The iron doors to the trading hall were smashed open from the outside. Xu Changlin led law enforcement officers in, guns pointed at the man sitting in a chair deep inside the hall.

"Shen Yibai! You're surrounded! Hands over your head!"

The person in the chair didn't move.

Xu Changlin stepped forward through the broken glass, his footsteps unusually clear in the quiet hall.

"All of Hotan Business Association's accounts have been frozen. Zhang Weiming, Chen Guoping, and Liao Yaodong have all signed plea agreements. Your firewall no longer exists."

He slammed the document on the table in front of Lu Yuan, the pages scattering.

Lu Yuan looked down at his hands.

After a long while, I looked up.

Su Qinghan's fingers stopped on the armrest.

On the monitor, Lu Yuan's eyes were empty. After all the main switches for emotions were turned off, only optical refraction remained in his eyeballs.

"Reporter Chu." The voice was calm.

"I've been sitting here for forty minutes before you came in."

His gaze shifted from Xu Changlin's face to the distance in the ceiling.

"Forty minutes. Enough time to think things through."

Su Qinghan's fingernails dug into the leather of the chair armrest.

Lin Yue stood behind her, not daring to make a sound. Her eyes were already starting to sting.

The dialogue progressed to the third minute.

Xu Changlin approached step by step, his vocal cords stretched to their limit, unleashing all the evidence, all the anger, and all the sense of justice upon Lu Yuan.

Lu Yuan let them pass through him. He neither blocked nor dodged the accusations that struck him.

The dialogue ends at the fourth minute and a half.

Xu Changlin rushed forward, his right hand grabbing Lu Yuan's collar. The action sequence rehearsed before filming was activated.

Lu Yuan sprang up from his chair, a final conditioned reflex from a startled beast.

Xu Changlin's fist came crashing down, with wide, sweeping movements.

Lu Yuan's right palm pressed against the outside of Xu Changlin's forearm, the heel of his palm sliding down to touch the elbow joint, intercepting the attack with a half-inch strike. Xu Changlin's attack was deflected.

Xu Changlin shifted his leg and lunged forward, but Lu Yuan didn't retreat. Instead, Lu Yuan's front foot cut into the inside of Xu Changlin's supporting leg, his instep locking around Xu Changlin's ankle. Xu Changlin's lunge missed, and in the instant his center of gravity shifted forward, Lu Yuan's left hand gripped Xu Changlin's wrist.

With a slight misstep, Xu Changlin knelt down.

Xu Changlin didn't stop, he got up and attacked again. He landed a hook punch, an elbow strike, and a knee strike, three in a row.

Lu Yuan's body threaded a needle through the gap.

Every block was precise, striking right between the bones; every counterattack stopped just 0.5 centimeters from the point of injury. His breathing and stride were perfectly synchronized; the trajectory of his feet was as if drawn with a compass, not an inch wasted.

The two men knocked over tables and chairs, crushed documents, and knocked over fire extinguishers in the dilapidated trading hall, with dust flying in the lamplight.