Hong Kong variety show: I wanted to be a lawyer, but I became a big shot.

Ye Guohuan nodded slightly, took out two walkie-talkies from his bag, and casually tossed them to his men in another car to ensure that the two cars could stay in touch and not lose contact.

"Then let's set off first to avoid wasting time and missing the opportunity to act."

"it is good."

Dilu raised his hand in a gesture of greeting, his tone indifferent.

I wish you all the best.

As soon as he finished speaking, Dilu led Shaqiang into the black sedan. With a roar of the engine, the car drove into the night and quickly disappeared at the end of the street.

Once the two had completely walked away, the dim streetlights illuminated the cold body of the Sequoia bread truck.

A young henchman approached Ye Guohuan, lowered his voice, and looked uneasy.

"Brother Huan, what if these two Hong Kong guys renege on their promise after we finish the job and deliberately rip us off?"

Ye Guohuan's lips curled into a sinister sneer as his fingertips lightly caressed the gun at his waist, exuding a chilling aura.

"Hmph, let's see if their lives can withstand the bullets in our hands."

"Get on the bus, let's go."

As soon as he finished speaking, Ye Guohuan opened the passenger door and got in.

Two Toyota Hiace vehicles, their headlights flashing a cool white, slowly drove away from the pier and sped off towards Tsim Sha Tsui.

The carriage was deathly silent; everyone remained quiet, and cold guns rested silently at their sides, concealing a deadly intent.

......

At the same time, inside an old-fashioned hot pot restaurant in Tsim Sha Tsui.

The shop's interior was simply decorated and greasy, with a mix of smells from charcoal, butter, tobacco, and alcohol, giving it a strong, bustling atmosphere.

Gandhi sat alone at the dining table, which was filled with fresh ingredients prepared in advance. The hot pot was bubbling and steaming, blurring his gloomy profile.

He held a bottle of iced cola in his hand, his fingertips gripping the bottle tightly, staring listlessly at the bubbling broth.

He glanced at the gold Rolex on his wrist; the hands moved slowly, time ticking away.

"Why haven't those three guys arrived yet?"

"Could it be that they deliberately stood me up?"

He muttered under his breath, his tone full of impatience.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a burst of noisy footsteps and laughter came from outside the hot pot restaurant.

Guohua, Heigui, and Wenzheng walked in side by side, pushed open the door to the private room, and looked relaxed and unguarded, as if it were just an ordinary gathering of brothers.

As soon as he entered, Guohua smiled and raised his hand to greet him, his tone familiar and casual.

"Gandhi, what brings you tonight? Why did you suddenly decide to invite us over for hot pot?"

He pulled out a chair and sat down, casually picked up a beer from the table, deftly pried open the bottle cap, and took a big gulp.

"Since the night Uncle Kun died, we haven't had a proper get-together even once."

"Tonight is a rare moment of peace and quiet, so we must eat and drink well and not make a scene like last time."

Without saying a word, the black man sat down, picked up his chopsticks, and dropped a slice of bright red fatty beef into the boiling red oil broth. His movements were casual and rough, and his face was relaxed.

The youngest, Wen Zheng, remained silent throughout, not participating in the small talk. He kept his eyes down, picked up a fish ball from the plate, and slowly put it into his mouth. His expression was calm and showed no emotion.

Gandhi raised his eyes, his gaze sweeping coldly over the three people in front of him. The anger that had been building up in his eyes was surging, and a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

"The three of you are all very busy people. If we want to get you all together for a meal, we'll have to pick an auspicious day."

"Ever since Han Chen ran away, the Ni family only gave each of us ten million of the money they promised."

"Not only that, they also took away all the land that was originally allocated to us and handed it over to that illegitimate son of the Ni family."

"I've gotten angrier the more I think about it these past two days. We can't just let this go."

The room fell silent instantly upon hearing this.

Guohua, Heigui, and Wenzheng were all stunned at the same time. Their eyes met, and the same thought arose in their minds.

Is Gandhi planning to lead them in a rebellion and turn against the Ni family?

Guohua's smile faded, replaced by an awkward laugh. He spoke tentatively and cautiously.

"Gandhi, it's all in the past now, and we all agree with Mr. Ni's arrangements."

"It would be too impulsive to back out now. I'm afraid that if things get out of hand, none of us will make any money."

"That's right."

The black man quickly chimed in, his expression cautious.

"Last time we made such a big fuss that we sent dozens of gunmen to hunt down Han Chen and his wife."

"The foreigners have been keeping an eye on us and the Ni family, and their attitude is subtle."

"If we cause trouble again at this point, we'll easily be dealt with by the police."

Gandhi, however, was dismissive and didn't take their concerns seriously at all.

"We've worked for Uncle Kun for so many years, paying our dues on time every year. Have you all forgotten?"

"In just the last few years, the total amount of money we five have turned over is no less than two hundred million!"

"With such a large sum of money, each of us could buy a villa and marry ten wives without any problem."

"Are you really willing to be suppressed by the Ni family forever?"

These words struck at the heart of the matter, leaving Guohua and Heigui speechless and their expressions complex.

They were equally unwilling to accept the loss of their interests, but the supply channels in the Golden Triangle were entirely controlled by the Ni family, a rule that had remained unchanged for many years.

Although they can source goods from South America, the cost is far higher than that of goods from the Golden Triangle, so they have no price advantage and dare not easily break ties with the Ni family.

"Cough cough."

At this moment, Wen Zheng, who had been silent all along, coughed lightly and broke the silence.

"The three bosses."

"I'm the youngest here, so I'll say whatever comes to mind."

"To rebel against the Ni family, one must at least have the strength to match them."

"I realized something from the last time we surrounded and attacked Han Chen."

"The Ni family's power is too great, so great that it fills me with fear."

"Just the bounty of 100 million, plus the connections and influence of the foreigners."

"Hehe, the four of us alone can't possibly shake Ni Yongxiao."

Guohua nodded slowly, completely agreeing with Wenzheng's statement.

"Wen Zheng is right."

"Gandhi, we were too naive before. We always thought that we could gain a foothold by starting our own business and connecting with foreigners."

"In the end, we found out that those foreigners didn't even look down on us."

"If we take the initiative to attack the Ni family, it would be fine if we win, but if we get into a stalemate, the foreigners will definitely take action to settle accounts with us."

"What they want is a stable way to make money, not our endless fighting and killing."

The black man quickly echoed him, his tone clearly showing his reluctance.

"Yes, Gandhi."

"We have money to earn now and a stable life, why would we want to provoke a tiger?"

"I wouldn't dare do something so risky."

Gandhi glanced coldly at the three of them, picked up the Coke on the table, took a swig, and the icy liquid couldn't suppress the anger in his heart.