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

Thirteen hours later.

The plane landed smoothly on a private tarmac at Los Angeles International Airport.

The California sun was blinding, but Chen Hai and Qi Tongwei felt as if they had fallen into an ice cave.

As soon as he stepped off the gangway, the specially made military-grade anti-eavesdropping satellite phone in Qi Tongwei's hand started vibrating.

He answered the phone. Zhou Weiguo's cold voice, like the scraping of metal, came through.

"The intelligence came too late."

Qi Tongwei stopped abruptly, his expression changing drastically: "What do you mean?"

"The Zhong family's cleaners arrived three hours earlier than you," Zhou Weiguo said on the other end of the phone. "Li Jiajia's apartment at USC was bombed fifteen minutes ago. Los Angeles police have just cordoned off the scene; the casualties are unknown."

The area in front of a high-end student apartment building off the USC campus was completely surrounded by police cars.

Three layers of yellow police tape were laid out, and glaring red and blue police lights flashed alternately under the night sky.

Qi Tongwei pulled his baseball cap down low and led Chen Hai away from the police officers on duty on the perimeter.

The two silently climbed over the fire escape on the side of the building and onto the second-floor balcony.

The epicenter of the explosion was clearly in the center of the living room.

The leather sofa and solid wood coffee table were torn to shreds by the powerful shockwave, and only a single wire remained hanging forlornly in mid-air from the ceiling chandelier.

The surrounding walls were blackened by thick smoke, and the air still smelled of pungent ammonium nitrate.

The floor was covered with fragments of various objects and shards of glass.

Near the security door at the entrance, there were a few drops of dark red blood that had not yet completely dried.

Chen Hai put on the tactical gloves he always carried, squatted down, and gently rubbed the bloodstain with his fingertips.

"The bloodstains are still viscous, which means the person was taken away no more than half an hour ago."

Chen Hai immediately pulled a military-grade encrypted mobile phone from the pocket of his tactical vest and quickly dialed a long string of numbers.

Before the number could be dialed, Qi Tongwei slapped him hard across the face.

The black phone slipped from his hand, spun out of the broken window, and landed precisely in the garbage truck below.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Chen Hai flew into a rage and pointed at Qi Tongwei's nose, cursing loudly.

"I have an old classmate at the Los Angeles police station. The only way to stop the convoy is through a large-scale review of street surveillance footage by the local police!"

Qi Tongwei snorted coldly and deftly chambered a round in his Glock 19 pistol.

"Given your bureaucratic procedures, once the police obtain a search warrant after going through layers of approvals, Li Dakang will only be able to go to the Los Angeles morgue to claim his daughter's remains."

Qi Tongwei completely ignored Chen Hai's anger and walked straight to the corner of the living room.

He bent down and used his ballpoint pen to pick up a golden, broken bullet casing from the mess on the ground.

"The firing pin mark on the primer is clearly off to the left, and there are irregular ejection scratches on the edge of the cartridge case."

"These are modified black market firearms, mostly cheap ones used by local Mexican gangs to clean house."

He casually tossed the spent cartridge into the rubble, walked to the completely shattered French window, and pointed to a clear tire mark at the alleyway below.

"The tread width exceeds 240 millimeters, and the tread pattern is extremely deep with outward-facing slanted anti-skid grooves."

"These are heavy-duty off-road tires that are only available on the Raptor series."

"After an explosion of that magnitude, patrolling police officers on the streets can cordon off the surrounding area in three minutes at most."

"Driving this kind of conspicuous and bulky large pickup truck, you can only go on those old sewer pipe repair roads that are not monitored by the municipal authorities."

Qi Tongwei tucked the pistol back into its holster on his lower back and strode toward the door.

"Go south along this old road for three blocks, and you'll find the illegal modification workshop hub of the Seventh Block."

Chen Hai stood still, staring intently at the man in front of him who walked away without looking back.

The resentment he felt after years of suppression within the system seemed to transform into a chilling level of investigative professionalism and ruthless style the moment he left Handong.

7th Street, Los Angeles.

In front of a large tin workshop with a sign that reads "Rusty Abandoned Repair Shop".

The roller shutter door was half-open, and from inside came the piercing sound of metal cutting and deafeningly loud, cheap heavy metal rock music.

Qi Tongwei walked to the door and kicked open the greasy side door.

The workshop was very spacious, with several pickup trucks parked side by side, being cut up and dismantled.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of cheap engine oil and a distinct stench of blood.

Five burly Mexican men, shirtless and covered in tattoos, stopped what they were doing and turned to look at them.

One of the men, who had a dreadlock, cursed and reached for his sidearm at his waist.

Qi Tongwei didn't give the other party a chance to draw their gun.

He pushed off with his feet and crashed directly into the arms of the nearest burly man with a filthy braid.

With his left hand, he precisely locked the opponent's wrist joint as the opponent tried to draw his gun.

His right hand transformed into a blade, striking the opponent's vulnerable carotid artery with tremendous force.

The burly man with the filthy braid didn't even utter a sound before his eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground.

Qi Tongwei seized the old Colt pistol and swung the butt around, smashing it hard into the nose of the second burly man who pounced on him.

The crisp sound of the nasal bone shattering was completely drowned out by the frenzied rock music.

The third man had just pulled his gun out of its holster when Qi Tongwei lunged at him.

He grabbed the other man's gun barrel and pushed it upwards.

Then he raised his knee and slammed it into the opponent's vital area.

Just as the man bent over in excruciating pain, Qi Tongwei delivered a powerful whip kick, sending him flying more than two meters away.

The whole process took less than five seconds.

The dark muzzle of the gun was already pressed directly against the forehead of the last leader, whose face was full of scars.

"Where is the person who arrived in a Ford pickup truck fifteen minutes ago?"

Before he could even catch his breath, Qi Tongwei cut straight to the point.

The leader raised his oil-slicked hands, his eyes revealing the arrogance typical of outlaws.

"Asian monkey, if you dare to fire a shot on the Crippled Gang's territory, you'll never leave this street alive..."

"Bang!"

The deafening sound reverberated throughout the workshop.

Qi Tongwei pulled the trigger without hesitation.

The bullet grazed the leader's left ear, tearing off a large chunk of flesh, before striking the metal wall behind him and sending sparks flying.

The frenetic music was still playing, but the people in the workshop were completely stunned.

The leader covered his blood-soaked ears and let out a pig-like scream.

With a blank expression, Qi Tongwei shoved the scalding hot gun barrel directly into the leader's wide-open mouth, pressing it firmly against the back of his throat.

"Where you shoot next depends entirely on how nimble your tongue is."

The leader, his eyes rolling back in his head from the scalding heat, desperately begged for mercy, pointing towards the sea to the southwest.

"Santa Monica...the abandoned Container Terminal 12..."

Qi Tongwei pulled out the gun barrel and knocked the leader unconscious with the butt of the gun.

Chen Hai stood by the gate, his palms, holding the gun, were covered in cold sweat.

He was influenced by his family traditions from a young age and believed in procedural justice.

The Anti-Corruption Bureau has always emphasized the completeness and legality of the chain of evidence when investigating cases.

Looking at Qi Tongwei, who had taken off his police uniform, he was a vicious wolf who would tear everything apart for survival.

They have no bottom line in handling cases, and only seek to achieve their goals as quickly as possible using the bloodiest methods.

Night completely enveloped California's long coastline.

Abandoned docks in Santa Monica.

The salty sea breeze whistled through the mountains of rusty shipping containers.

Qi Tongwei and Chen Hai lay one after the other on top of a two-story abandoned crane.

Qi Tongwei took off the infrared night vision device from his head and casually handed it to Chen Hai beside him.

"At the 12 o'clock position, a speedboat without a painted hull number is warming up its engine."

Chen Hai raised the night vision goggles and brought them close to his eyes.

In the monochromatic green field of vision, a dozen fully armed scavengers were spread out in standard tactical formation, keeping a close watch on their surroundings.

The other two were carrying a long, heavy black canvas bag and were walking briskly toward the speedboat on the beach.

There was a human-shaped figure struggling violently inside the canvas bag.