Chapter Thirty-Eight: Brother Nan, What Should We Do Next?
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At the same time, while the people in the car were still reeling, two more masked men appeared, each wielding a homemade shotgun, pressing the barrels against the shattered windshield and aiming at everyone inside. Needless to say, these two were Hou Fei and Long Kun.
“Alright, nobody move, or the guns might just go off...” growled Long Kun menacingly behind his mask.
Leopard Lei was a man who had seen his share of trouble before. The moment he saw those two guns, he understood that they were completely under someone else's control tonight. But as someone who wielded real influence in Deqing's underworld, he still spoke up: “Brothers, you’re just after money, not trouble. We won’t interfere with your business. Now, my man here is hurt. Let us take him to the hospital. As for what happened tonight, I, Leopard Lei, will let it go.”
Long Kun snorted. “Leopard, you sure know how to crack a joke... Let you walk away, call in your men, and hunt us down? It’s best if you stay put for a while.”
Lei’s little scheme had been laid bare, and his face darkened with embarrassment. “You punk, don’t push your luck. You think I can’t find out who you are?”
Long Kun’s eyes flashed with anger. He raised his gun, leveling it at Leopard Lei. “Leopard, if you end up a dead cat tonight, will you still be able to find us?”
Leopard Lei’s bravado faltered. “Easy, brother, let’s talk this out. Watch out for an accident...” He edged back, pulling one of his men in front of himself as a shield.
“Shut it. If you know what’s good for you, sit still and keep your mouth shut,” Hou Fei barked. This was his moment to shine—pointing a gun at one of Deqing’s most notorious crime bosses was not an opportunity that came every day, and he was determined to savor it.
Leopard Lei grunted but said no more. He knew full well that even getting out of here alive was uncertain—what use was it to keep up the tough act?
Wang Zhenguo had watched everything unfold. His heart sank. It seemed tonight, he’d have to hand over that million without protest...
“Throw the cases over here,” came Hu Li’s cold voice, unmoving from where he stood.
Beads of sweat trickled down Wang Zhenguo’s forehead. He let out a silent sigh—he could only hope that once the money was handed over, they’d return the floppy disks. He tossed both cases in front of Hu Li, who opened them. Inside were stacks upon stacks of blue banknotes, every one featuring the face of the old man.
He pulled out a money detector from his pocket, checked a few bundles at random—real cash, all of it. As Nan had predicted, Wang Zhenguo had brought genuine money, clearly coming prepared for any eventuality. When guile failed, he was ready to pay for his safety.
Hu Li snapped the cases shut, hefted them both, and tossed them back to the spot from which he’d first appeared. Clearly, someone was waiting there to pick them up—everything was planned to perfection, making Wang Zhenguo’s heart race. These men were no petty thieves.
Hu Li called out to Long Kun and Hou Fei, “We’re done—let’s go!” The two men retreated, guns still trained on the van’s occupants. Leopard Lei’s jaw clenched with hatred—he swore to find out their identities and take his revenge.
Hu Li turned to leave when Wang Zhenguo called out anxiously from behind, “What about my disks?” Hu Li feigned sudden realization, slapped his forehead, and said, “Oh! Almost forgot. Here—your disks.” He pulled out more than twenty floppy disks from his jacket pocket and tossed them into the air, turning away and vanishing down the alley.
Wang Zhenguo was devastated. How could this have happened? He ignored Hu Li’s disappearance and scrambled after the disks, which fluttered down like scattered petals, landing in every corner of the filthy alley, some even splashing into dirty puddles.
As soon as Hu Li vanished, Long Kun and Hou Fei exchanged glances, dropped their guns onto the ground, and bolted down a side alley. Leopard Lei and his men rushed out of the van in pursuit, grabbing the discarded guns without hesitation.
But just then, two police cars, sirens blaring, barreled in from both ends of the alley. From the car on the east side, before it had even come to a full stop, a striking female officer leaped out, gun in hand, aiming at Leopard Lei from a distance. “Police! Drop your weapon!” There was no doubt—it was Lan.
She had just returned to the station from Zhuonan’s school that morning when a call came in reporting an armed robbery behind the department store. A gun-related case was a serious matter—her first instinct was to report to the captain, but the caller had specifically said that if she wanted to earn merit, she shouldn’t tell her superiors. So Lan, with a few colleagues, drove out on their own.
As for the caller, it wasn’t Zhuonan—Lan knew his voice too well. It was Shiyang.
Facing the police gun, Leopard Lei realized he’d been set up. Lan’s haul was substantial: six gang members, two guns—real powder guns, even if they had no bullets. She was quite pleased, but thoughts of the anonymous tip dampened her mood. Who wanted to help her so much? Her first suspicion was Zhuonan, but that didn’t make sense; clever as he was, he didn’t have the reach to meddle in the underworld. Unable to figure it out, she let it go for now.
Meanwhile, Wang Zhenguo, reeking and clutching a handful of filthy, waterlogged disks, was brought before Lan, who was taken aback. “What are you doing here?”
Wang, surprisingly composed, forced a smile. “Just passing by, just passing by.”
“What’s that in your hand?” Lan’s eyes narrowed in interrogation.
“Nothing, nothing. Just some disks I bought. Dropped them in the water,” Wang stammered.
But Lan was unconvinced. She snatched the disks and examined them, thinking, “You’re finally in my hands, you fat bastard.”
“Take him in—I suspect he’s connected to these gang members. And those disks are evidence—bring them too,” she ordered her colleagues.
When Wang heard he was being taken in and the disks would be checked, he lost it, lunging at Lan to grab the disks back. But, as is often the case, desperate measures rarely end well.
With a thud, Lan kicked him to the ground. “You fat idiot, trying to attack a police officer? Cuff him!”
Lan returned triumphant. The two guns alone were a major achievement—real powder guns, even if they were unloaded. She was delighted, but the anonymous tip still nagged at her. Who was it that wanted to help her this much? Her first thought was Zhuonan, but he didn’t have the connections to get involved with the underworld. Since she couldn’t figure it out, she let it go.
The scene shifted to that same filthy little room, revolting in its squalor. Seven brothers gathered around two large cases filled to the brim with stacks of cash. Except for Zhuonan, the other six were visibly elated.
“Nan, we’re rich this time!” Long Kun exclaimed, unable to take his eyes off so much money—a million in cold, hard cash.
The other six looked up at Zhuonan as Long Kun spoke. The money would be divided according to his word. Zhuonan smiled slightly, drew a bundle from the case, and toyed with it. “Long Kun, everyone gets twenty thousand. When Paigu and the others are released, they’ll each get twenty thousand as well.”
The group gasped—twenty thousand each! Counting Paigu and another brother currently protecting Du Fanhao in lockup, that made nine people in all—one hundred eighty thousand, leaving eight hundred twenty thousand. What could they do with it?
Zhuonan tossed the money back into the case, surveyed the room, and spoke. The others fell silent, waiting for his guidance.
“Brothers, there’s a million here. Nine of us. By rights, each would get a hundred thousand. But I won’t split it that way. Let me ask you: do you want to take your share and go home to a quiet life, or do you want to keep fighting on, to carve out a place for yourselves? If anyone wants to leave, I’ll give him a hundred thousand now, and we’ll go our separate ways. But no one is to breathe a word about tonight. If you want to stay, I guarantee this million is just the beginning—what we’ll make in the future will be far more. It’s your choice. I’ll say this again: I won’t force anyone to stay. But if you do, from now on, you follow my lead.”
With those words, Zhuonan asserted his place as their leader. The men looked at one another, and Long Kun spoke first: “Nan, I’ve called you my boss since jail. I’ll do whatever you say. If it weren’t for you, we’d never have gotten this million. I’m with you all the way.”
Zhuonan smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good, Long Kun. Who else is with me?”
Shi Yang, Zhuonan’s closest ally, stepped up. “Nan, count me in. I’ll never go against you.”
“I’m in too, Nan.”
“Count me in as well, Nan.”
“…”
“Good, brothers. You won’t regret this decision,” Zhuonan said, handing out twenty thousand to each man.
Once everyone had happily pocketed their share, Long Kun asked, “Nan, what’s our next move?”