Nominal: Hou Liangping blocking the door? He was slapped away!

"Click-click-click-click-"

The bolts of dozens of assault rifles were pulled back almost simultaneously, the metallic clanging sounds perfectly synchronized, as if they had been rehearsed.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was more effective than any loudspeaker.

Chang Chenghu slammed the iron rod in his hand to the ground with a clang, then squatted down, clutching his head with both hands. His knees hit the concrete pavement, causing him to grimace in pain, but he didn't dare utter a single word.

Having been in the underworld for twenty years, I've seen it all.

But this was the first time I'd ever seen dozens of guns pointed at my head.

The sound of iron bars hitting the ground echoed like dominoes. Steel pipes, machetes, and wooden sticks clattered all over the ground. More than two hundred demolition team members squatted down along the entire street, each one more obedient than the last.

The fierce determination he had just displayed, threatening to break the worker's legs, vanished along with the steel pipe.

The soldiers moved.

Two people stepped forward from the queue, one controlling the person and the other binding their hands. The tactical cable ties were pulled tighter with a "sizzling" sound. In less than three minutes, more than two hundred people were all turned into dumplings.

One of the demolition workers, lying on the ground, muttered softly, "Brother, could you loosen the ties a bit? My hands aren't..."

The soldier holding him down glared at him and made him swallow back what he was about to say.

The cab doors of three bulldozers and five excavators were yanked open from the outside. Before the drivers could react, they were grabbed by the collar, pulled from their seats, and forced to sit next to the tracks, their faces pressed against the cold steel.

Zhou Weiguo put away the megaphone and strode to the factory gate.

The iron gate was crooked and broken, with one of its hinges broken and a huge dent in the door panel from the impact of the excavator bucket. The sandbag stacks behind the gate were still there, with hundreds of workers crammed behind them, clutching shovels and wooden sticks.

"Move the sandbags away."

Nobody moved; they were all just standing there, stunned.

Five minutes ago they were preparing to risk their lives, and suddenly a field army appeared and surrounded the demolition team. The turn of events was too fast, and my mind couldn't process it for a moment.

"Ring ring—ring ring—"

A bicycle bell rang from the street corner, and Zheng Xipo rode out unsteadily on his bicycle, looking utterly disheveled. His hair was sticking up, his jacket was unbuttoned, and most outrageously, a pair of handcuffs were on his left wrist, the other end of which was fastened to the bicycle handlebars.

"Cultural Revolution! Get someone to move the sandbags! Open the door!"

Zheng Xipo started shouting before the bicycle had even come to a complete stop. The bicycle veered and almost threw him off, but luckily he braced himself on the ground to avoid falling.

Wang Wenge then came to his senses, slammed the torch in his hand onto the ground, turned around and roared behind him.

"What are you all standing there for! Move the sandbags! Open the door!"

Several strong laborers quickly dismantled the sandbag stack, and two people together pulled the iron gate open to both sides, the hinges making a screeching sound.

Zhou Weiguo stood at the entrance, glanced around the factory area, and did not take a step.

He turned around and waved to those behind him.

"Sappers! Lay barbed wire 30 meters outside the factory gate!"

Rolls of barbed military wire were unloaded from the back of the troop carrier. The engineers, wearing thick leather gloves, quickly unfurled the wire, set up stakes, secured it, and tightened it.

In less than ten minutes, a standard field defense position was formed.

The sentry posts were set up at the four corners, with sandbags piled up to half a person's height. A squad automatic weapon was mounted on the sandbag pile in the middle, with the muzzle pointing outwards.

The ammunition belt is already attached.

Two uniformed police officers from the local police station suddenly appeared from some alley, cautiously peering forward.

"Halt! Military alert zone. All personnel, evacuate immediately!"

The sentry's shout startled the two policemen, who took three steps back, exchanged a glance, and then turned and ran.

The entire street, along with the two alleys next to it, was spotless, with only military green remaining.

The jurisdiction of the Jingzhou Municipal Government extends only to this point, near the barbed wire fence.

The factory perimeter wall was covered with workers. Some were perched on the top of the wall, while others were leaning out on ladders, their mouths agape as they looked at the demolition team tied up in a row and the neatly arranged soldiers outside.

"Damn it, I thought someone was going to die tonight!"

"These must be soldiers from the provincial military region, right? Who invited them?"

"Who cares who hired them? At least the factory's saved tonight!"

Cheers erupted from the top of the wall and echoed throughout the entire factory area.

Zheng Xipo, holding up the hand cuffed to the bicycle, squeezed his way to Zhou Weiguo, bicycle and all.

"Comrades, my name is Zheng Xipo, chairman of the trade union at Dafeng Factory. I have to write a poem for what you did tonight!"

Zhou Weiguo glanced down at the handcuffs on the handlebars, then looked at Zheng Xipo, whose forehead was covered in sweat.

"Take off the handcuffs first."

"No, no, no, listen to me—an iron army stands before the bulldozers, their steel guns rang out, and even ghosts and gods tremble! From then on, Jingzhou—"

"Chairman Zheng," Zhou Weiguo interrupted him, his smile betraying his unease, "we'll talk about this later."

"Eagle Nest, outpost report: Dafeng Factory has been safely taken over. Workers inside the factory are in stable condition, and all demolition personnel outside the factory are under control. There are no casualties. Please provide instructions."

Provincial Military Command Center.

Shen Zhong sat in front of the screen, where the thermal imaging image had transformed from a chaotic mess into orderly green dots.

His right hand rested on the table, his thumb hovering over the lighter's roller, and he didn't move.

"Take all those demolition team members back to the military detention center."

Zhou Weiguo paused for a moment.

"Sir, these people aren't military personnel. Let's interrogate them directly; procedurally..."

"Suspected of endangering national security."

Shen Zhong placed the lighter on the table and spoke five words in a calm and unhurried manner.

"The Dafeng factory had 20 tons of gasoline in its storage. These people launched an attack in the early morning with bulldozers and weapons. Once it exploded, the entire area within a 500-meter radius would be a residential area."

"Is this characterization sufficient?"

Zhou Weiguo snapped to attention on the other end.

"That's enough!"

The walkie-talkie signal was cut off.

Shen Zhong leaned back in his chair and tapped the table twice with his right index finger.

The demolition team consisted of over two hundred members, including Chang Chenghu's gang of thugs. They were all small fry, but small fry are the most soft-spoken.

Once we can extract Zhang Tianfeng's instructions and Gao Xiaoqin's directives from these people, the Shanshui Group will be exposed.

Beneath the facade of the Shanshui Group lies Zhao Ruilong.

If Zhao Ruilong were to tug on the loose thread, Zhao Lichun's gleaming coat would be completely torn to shreds.

On the side road 300 meters away.

Inside the black van, Zhang Tianfeng was drenched in sweat, his shirt was soaked, and the hole in his trousers burned by a cigarette butt was still emitting a burnt smell.

"Quick! Drive away! Don't turn on the lights, go back via the ring road!"

The driver, trembling, shifted into gear, turned off the lights, and slowly glided out along the side road.