Stop it, the country really can't fit any more bans on the domestic entertainment industry.

Amidst the undercurrents of scheming among all parties.

Time quickly passed to the next day.

The sun rises.

Sunlight streamed through the glass into this temporary outpost belonging to the Yunnan provincial forces.

As originally agreed.

That meeting of fan leaders, which determines the distribution of enormous illegal profits, should continue during this daytime.

The top fans from each province need to go to the manor at this time.

However, at that moment, the roar of a car engine came from outside the gate of the compound.

An SUV with a license plate indicating it belonged to a warlord was parked in the yard.

The car door opened.

One of Chatchai's adjutants, dressed in a green military uniform, strode in.

The adjutant tilted his chin up, his gaze sweeping over the group of Eastern tyrants in the hall, his eyes filled with undisguised contempt.

In his view, these people from the East were just a flock of fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered.

The noise in the hall disappeared instantly.

Everyone stood up and looked at the uninvited guest.

The adjutant walked to the center of the hall and cleared his throat.

then.

He loudly relayed Chachai's orders.

Today's meeting has been rescheduled.

The adjutant patted the holster at his waist, his voice laced with arrogance.

"Our general drank too much last night."

"I have a terrible hangover and can't get out of bed."

"Meetings during the day are naturally out of the question."

The adjutant pointed in the direction outside the door.

"Listen up, everyone. The meeting has been rescheduled to tonight."

"The location has also changed; it's no longer in the main hall, but in the spacious open-air square outside the manor."

"You all need to be there on time. Anyone who dares to be late will face the consequences."

Faced with this bossy attitude.

The burly northern leader quickly put on a smiling face.

He bowed slightly and nodded repeatedly in agreement.

"Yes, yes, don't worry, we will definitely be there on time."

The adjutant snorted coldly.

He was very pleased with their obedience and turned to swagger out.

The SUV started and drove away.

The hall was silent for about ten seconds.

Until it was confirmed that the car had driven far away.

The smile on the northern leader's face vanished instantly, as he had been bowing and scraping.

Instead, an expression of ecstatic, almost distorted joy appeared on his face.

Holy crap!

He slammed his hand heavily on the table, making the teacups rattle.

"It's like God is on our side!"

Bald-headed D.O. was also so excited that his face turned red, and he suddenly swung his fist.

"That bastard can't get out of bed because of a hangover?"

"The meeting has been moved to the evening?"

"Isn't this just giving us free time?!"

This change in timing is a godsend for those thugs who were just looking for time to call in reinforcements.

It gave these East Asian fan leaders the most precious time to coordinate and mobilize their forces.

"quick!"

The northern leader immediately turned around and loudly gave orders to his henchmen.

"Contact our brothers immediately via satellite phone!"

"Have the brothers bring all their best equipment and move towards the outskirts of the manor in batches!"

The atmosphere in the hall was instantly ignited.

Fan leaders from other provinces also realized what was happening and no longer hesitated.

They each found a corner, pulled out their communication devices, and began frantically making phone calls.

........................................

In the lobby of the base.

Li Mo'an sat imposingly in that grand chair.

He was holding a cup of tea that had gone cold.

He calmly observed the tyrants around him, who were jumping around in a frenzy to seize territory.

The large-scale fighting that is about to take place.

He didn't feel there was anything to be afraid of.

"Those tens of thousands of people may have guns, but they're not here to shoot me, so what's the danger?" This thought popped into Li Mo'an's mind.

even.

He also felt that the warlord's postponement of the meeting due to a hangover was perfectly timed.

This saved him the trouble of stalling for time.

........................................

Old Zou stood not far behind Li Mo'an.

The veteran police officer, dressed in an inconspicuous short-sleeved shirt, silently observed the movements outside the window.

Watching the henchmen constantly coming and going, listening to their reports on the progress of troop deployment.

Old Zou felt that he was having some difficulty breathing.

Tens of thousands of people!

That was an armed conflict involving tens of thousands of people!

A battle of this magnitude, once it begins, will result in rivers of blood.

He turned his head and glanced at Li Mo'an, who was sitting calmly in the chair.

I felt a wave of helplessness.

"Does this kid even know what's going to happen next?"

Old Zou touched his forehead, which was covered in cold sweat.

........................................

Yu Zui, hidden at the edge of the crowd, also had lifeless eyes at this moment.

He gripped his right arm, which was in a cast, tightly with his left hand.

Listening to the excited chatter of those thugs, his despair deepened.

"It's over, it's all over," Yu Zui thought painfully to himself.

"If these tens of thousands of people really manage to kill the warlord, they can be integrated by Boss Li."

"Then the entire flour network of Sanbianpo will fall completely into his hands."

"At that time, large quantities of goods will be continuously transported back to China through the channels of these fan leaders."

Thinking about this...

The muscles in his cheeks bulged out due to excessive exertion.

He could do nothing but wait like a spectator for the storm to come.

........................................

Time flew by amidst the tense troop deployment.

The sun was setting in the west, and the sky was gradually darkening.

Night finally fell.

The night breeze at Sanbianpo carried a hint of damp, earthy scent.

The outskirts of warlord Chachai's manor.

On that spacious open-air plaza.

At the top of the four towering iron pillars, huge braziers were lit.

A raging fire shot into the sky.

It illuminated the entire square as if it were daytime.

The orange-red flames danced wildly in the wind.

It stretched the shadows of those around him to a very long length.

The square was surrounded by Chachai's elite personal guards.

These soldiers were dressed in camouflage uniforms and fully armed.

He held the automatic rifle with both hands, his fingers always resting outside the trigger guard.

His eyes flashed with murderous intent as he warily stared at the entrance to the square.

The atmosphere in the entire open-air plaza was extremely somber.

The air became quiet.

The only sound was the crackling of burning firewood.

........................................

In this suffocating sense of oppression.

A series of hurried footsteps came from the entrance.

Li Mo'an walked at the front.

He was wearing a casual jacket that had faded a bit from washing.

His steps were steady, without the slightest pause.

He walked calmly into the square, which was surrounded by heavy troops.

Old Zou and Yu Zui followed closely behind him, trying their best not to give themselves away.

And behind Li Mo'an.

They followed all the big fan leaders of the East.

More than a hundred leaders walked in in a grand procession.

These people had made thorough preparations during the day.

At this moment, even though they were facing a dense array of gun barrels all around them.

But their confidence is completely different now.

Everyone's eyes were filled with eager anticipation.

That was greed, ambition, and madness ready to overturn the table.

A banquet that would decide the fate of Sanbianpo.

Officially begin.

........................................

Directly above the square.

On a large chair covered with animal hide.

The warlord Chatchai was sitting there.

He was wearing a green military uniform without rank insignia.

He pressed one hand to his forehead, vigorously rubbing his temples, which were throbbing from a hangover.

The strong liquor he drank last night has made him a little sluggish.

Chachai lowered his hand and exhaled a long breath of stale air reeking of alcohol.

Then.

He lowered his head slightly and opened his bloodshot eyes.

My gaze passed through the flickering flames in the square.

I looked down.

They ran right into the young man walking at the front, whose face was calm.