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

Sitting on the large armchair covered with a colorful tiger skin, Li Mo'an looked down at the chaotic scene of the owls below.

As he looked at the crowd of excited and fervent fans gathered below the stage, he was making a different plan in his mind.

Upon hearing the northern leader's suggestion to celebrate with drinks, the line of thought that had been blocked by the disparity in numbers suddenly became clear.

He seemed to have found the perfect way to break the deadlock.

Li Mo'an's eyes lit up. He sat up slightly in the spacious seat and cleared his throat gently.

"cough."

Upon hearing the news of the new leader, the big fans who were in a state of excitement immediately shut their mouths with great tact.

The various noises and clamor subsided quickly, like the receding tide.

In just a few seconds, the square, which had been as chaotic as a vegetable market, became completely silent.

Hundreds of eyes turned to the platform, everyone waiting quietly for Boss Li to speak.

Then he spoke.

These first words made Zou Jiulong, who was standing behind him, jump in surprise!

Li Mo'an calmly surveyed the room and dropped a bombshell in a measured voice.

"Gentlemen, we've taken care of the warlord, but I suspect there might still be a police mole within our ranks!"

As soon as those words were spoken...

The entire room fell silent instantly.

The smiles on the faces of the thugs, who were just moments before arm in arm and calling each other brothers, froze instantly.

It was like a bucket of ice water being poured over someone's head, completely extinguishing the frenzied celebratory atmosphere.

This group of desperados, who have been living on the edge of life and death for years, are naturally suspicious. Now, when they hear their leader say that there is a mole among them...

They subconsciously released their arms from their companion's shoulders, and quietly moved backward, widening the distance between them.

Many people even instinctively reached for their waists, their eyes filled with defensiveness and suspicion, glancing around at the people around them.

A suffocating tension filled the air.

Li Mo'an sat on the high platform, ignoring the subtle defensive maneuvers of the thugs below.

He looked at the crowd below and continued speaking methodically.

"Think about it, if we go back from here, we might all be captured."

"After all, we brothers have now become the new warlords of the area."

"We seized the warlord's territory, and on top of that, we were originally flour sellers. These two charges combined are quite serious."

"The extent of the crackdown on us by the Donggu police has increased dramatically."

Li Mo'an paused slightly before summarizing in a matter-of-fact tone.

"So now, we should find the undercover agent to prevent future troubles."

These words were clearly articulated, and every word exuded the air of a shrewd and calculating leader.

It's entirely from the perspective of the top leader of a large transnational criminal organization, conducting the most rigorous tactical analysis.

After listening, the thugs in the audience all nodded involuntarily, feeling that what their boss said made perfect sense.

They are no longer ordinary smugglers, but warlords who have overthrown the Chachai armed forces.

With a threat of this level, the domestic police will definitely spare no effort to eliminate them.

If there are indeed police informants hidden within the team, then going back would be like walking into a trap.

however.

Hearing this airtight analysis, Zou Jiulong, who was standing diagonally behind Li Mo'an, was completely dumbfounded!

This veteran police officer, who had spent most of his life working at the grassroots level, felt his blood rush backward in that instant.

He stared wide-eyed at the back of Li Mo'an's head, who was wearing a casual jacket.

His heart pounded wildly like a drum, the thumping so loud it hurt his eardrums.

Fine beads of cold sweat seeped from his pores, instantly covering his back in a cold sweat, making his close-fitting vest soaked.

Old Zou's brain was undergoing a frantic, level-ten-storm-like deduction.

It's important to know that although Li Mo'an usually has a peculiar way of thinking, in Lao Zou's eyes, he is ultimately just a celebrity who came to experience life.

But what you just said was so insightful, so insightful, it was frightening.

That's exactly the mindset of a mafia godfather who really wants to carve out a territory here and build a huge drug empire!

Why would he consider drastically increasing the intensity of the crackdown? Old Zou frantically asked himself.

Why did he want to find a way to expose the undercover agent?

A terrifyingly accurate guess gripped Old Zou's heart.

He thought that Li Mo'an had been tempted by this overwhelming power and had really turned against him!

Old Zou's gaze swept over the towering walls surrounding the square, looking at the boxes of captured guns and ammunition, and then at the hundreds of local tyrants below the stage who were completely subservient to him.

A huge difference in profits is enough to corrupt anyone's mind.

A private army of tens of thousands of people, millet fields covering the mountains and plains—how many people could withstand such power of life and death?

Old Zou's breathing became very heavy, and the muscles in his cheeks bulged high from clenching his teeth.

"This kid definitely thinks that being a star back home is nowhere near as enjoyable as being a local tyrant here!"

"His current demand to find an undercover agent is clearly a pretext to purge his own ranks!"

The more Lao Zou thought about it, the more terrified he became, and a deep despair appeared in his eyes.

"He's going to use us real undercover agents as a sacrifice!" Old Zou thought to himself.

Once these real police officers are publicly identified, Li Mo'an can use this opportunity to establish his authority and demonstrate to all the D-lords his unwavering determination to oppose the Dongguo police.

Thus, he firmly secured his position as the new warlord.

This is practically a flawless path to darkness.

Old Zou's fingers trembled slightly as he slowly moved his right hand to his waist and touched the grip of the pistol hidden under his clothes.

As a police officer, he absolutely could not sit idly by and wait for his fate.

He had already planned his desperate route in his mind, ready to draw his gun and take the other party hostage the moment Li Mo'an turned around and pointed at them.

Even if it means mutual destruction, they must cover their comrades and fight their way out.

The atmosphere in the entire square had plummeted to freezing point because of Li Mo'an's words.

The hawks were wary of each other, their hands gripping knife handles and gun holsters, ready to strike at any moment.

Old Zou also tensed all his muscles, his eyes revealing a resolute determination to burn his bridges.

Just as Lao Zou was preparing to fight to the death.

Sitting in the main seat, Li Mo'an calmly surveyed the tense crowd.

Li Mo'an said calmly, "There's a saying that people speak the truth when they're drunk."

"So I propose it."

Li Mo'an raised his voice slightly and gave the order.

"Everyone has to get drunk today, and I'll interrogate them one by one."

The words echoed across the empty square.

The tense atmosphere that was about to erupt suddenly seemed to be paused.

Old Zou was just imagining how to take hostages and prepare to die a heroic death.

Upon hearing this seemingly casual suggestion, his heart, which had been in his throat, suddenly stopped.

Old Zou's grip on the gun handle suddenly loosened, and he almost strained his back.

He stared blankly at Li Mo'an's retreating figure, his mouth slightly agape, feeling as if his brain's processor had completely shut down.

"ah?"

"drink wine?"

"Get someone drunk to interrogate the undercover agent?"

Old Zou felt a sudden dizziness, and his decades of experience in handling cases were crushed in that instant.

What kind of divine brain circuit is this?

He was a policeman his whole life and used all kinds of interrogation methods, including psychological warfare, evidence pressure, and fatigue tactics. Which one of them wasn't a technical skill?

Who the hell would use the absurd notion of "truth comes out when drunk"—a mere folk saying—to interrogate professionally trained undercover agents?

For a moment, he had no idea what Li Mo'an was trying to do.

It wasn't just Lao Zou.

The thugs in the audience were all stunned.

Those desperate criminals who had already drawn half of their short knives, preparing to defend themselves against a sudden attack from those around them.

They were all frozen in place, swords drawn, like a group of wooden figures immobilized by a spell.

They looked at each other, their eyes reflecting the same bewilderment.

This feeling is as absurd as everyone having already formed their battle lines and prepared for a world war, only to have the opposing commander suddenly announce that everyone should go to the playground to do calisthenics.

They stared in disbelief at their boss, whose ideas were so peculiar.