Hunting the Culprits

Du Rulong chuckled bureaucratically. "May I have your names, gentlemen?"

Zhang Wu crossed his legs, ice in his tone: "Zhang Wu. This is my brother Huo Xuan. For months, gangs have terrorized his parents—your precinct's inaction demands rectification."

The police chief narrowed his eyes at their audacity. "Rest assured," he spouted bureaucratic rhetoric, "we'll eradicate these lawbreakers thoroughly."

Huo Xuan's fist clenched. "Six months of ignored pleas, Director Du. Seems criminals thrive under your jurisdiction."

Du's face darkened. "Procedures take time," he snapped, glancing at his Rolex. "Another meeting calls. We'll resume... later."

Zhang Wu snorted coldly. "Now you see bureaucrats' contempt. Without Shangyang's call, we'd still be kissing receptionists' feet."

Huo Xuan burned with quiet fury. "Let's play his rank game." His fingers flew across the phone keypad—Zhuang Wen's number dialed.

Zhuang Wen's uncle—Director of Provincial Public Security, Standing Committee Member, vice-provincial heavyweight—loomed in his memory. Nuclear option against Du's arrogance.

"Half a year's silence, brother." Zhuang Wen's voice held mock reproach. "Life treats you well?"

"Wen-ge," Huo Xuan grimaced, "I need the uncle card played."

Since Zhuang Lele's recovery, Zhuang Wen's laughter flowed freely. "Blood-brother formalities? Just name the demon to slay."

The tale ignited Zhuang Wen's fury. "Lawless savages! Consider their necks already wrung."

In a soundproofed office, Du Rulong hissed into his secure line: "Brother-in-law Zhao Weimin—Yuyang's Organization Department Head."

"Who're these guys' upstarts?" Du seethed. "I'd have thrown them in the slammer if not for the Municipal Committee's order."

Zhao Weimin warned: "Rulong, don't act recklessly. These men are nobodies—but a Mr. Shang investing in Yuyang requested special treatment for them."

"Fuck their ancestors!" Du Rulong's jowls quivered with rage. "Investor's lapdogs ordering me around?"

"Rein in your thuggery," Zhao snapped. "Your accumulated sins could drown us both."

"Enough lecturing." Du forced a grin. "Tonight, your place. We'll drink away bureaucrats' stench."

Summoning lackeys in blue uniforms, Du growled: "Interrogate those office rats. Dig up every skeleton."

The perfunctory interrogation report froze Du's blood—Huo Guozhong's name glared from the page.

The truth was, Du Rulong had known about Huo Guozhong and Lu Hongmei's situation all along. Over half a year ago, several local snakes from Nangang County approached him, demanding punishment for a small shop-owning couple while requesting police turn a blind eye.

Back then, Du accepted crates of premium liquor, cartons of luxury cigarettes, and 100,000 yuan without hesitation. Closing the interrogation file, his eyeballs rolled cunningly: "What fucking investor? Not my problem. Took their bribes—can't break underworld code of honor. Who'd send gifts then?"

He ordered subordinates to dismiss Huo Xuan and Zhang Wu with promises of "swift follow-up." Seeing no point in lingering, Huo Xuan departed to await news at home.

The moment they left, Du dialed a Nangang County underworld contact: ​"Black Jackal (Hei Chai)! The Huos filed a complaint—you swore they were nobodies!"

Black Jackal—a local tyrant running hair salons and mahjong parlors with dozens of enforcers—responded instantly: ​"Don't worry, Boss Du. We'll handle this immediately."

Still uneasy, Du contacted other thugs: Qingpi Li (Green Skin Li), Daobiao Yang (Scarface Yang), and Ma San (Third Horse), ordering coordinated action.

Night fell as Huo Xuan arrived home, planning to revisit the police station tomorrow—unaware Provincial Public Security Director Feng Yulong and provincial leaders had just scheduled an inspection tour of Yuyang's investment projects.

That evening, Feng Yulong received Zhuang Wen's call. He chuckled: "Xiao Wen, how are your parents?"

"They're well, Uncle." Zhuang Wen replied. "Your nephew has a matter requiring your intervention." He concisely outlined Huo Xuan's situation.

Feng raised an eyebrow: "Trivial matter. Yet you rarely meddle—who is this Huo Xuan that moves you to act?"

"Uncle, he cured Lele's condition."

"Really?" Feng's teacup clattered. "Countless specialists failed. He could cure Lele?"

"He's connected to Hua Buyi," Zhuang Wen affirmed. "My fortune to know such a marvel."

"Arrange a meeting," Feng commanded. "Come to Yuyang tomorrow—bring him."

"I'll depart tonight," Zhuang Wen agreed after brief consideration.

"Contact me upon arrival."

8 PM, Huo Xuan's residence.

Only Huo Xuan and Zhang Wu remained. The elder Huos had been covertly relocated to a hotel under five guards' protection. The duo slurped instant noodles lethargically.

Mid-slurp, both froze. Zhang Wu performed a ghost-like glide to the wall switch, killing the lights. Darkness swallowed the room.

Huo Xuan rose—darkness posed no obstacle to his vision—and flanked the opposite wall. Nine months of mountain training rendered his footsteps panther-soft.

Stairwell creaks betrayed multiple intruders.

Muffled voices at the threshold: "Big Bro, smash the door?"

Huo Xuan twisted the deadbolt and pulled the door open. The intruders staggered back, squinting into pitch-black void.

Over a dozen intruders swarmed in—led by a green-tattooed middle-aged man who kicked the door fully open. As they reached for light switches, numbness exploded at their occiputs. All collapsed unconscious.

Within fifteen seconds, fifteen bodies littered the floor. Huo Xuan expressionlessly dragged them into the inner room. "Wu Ge, summon three men with a truck."

Zhang Wu grinned savagely: "Let's find desolate wilderness. Time to demonstrate Wu Ge's craft."

Three guards from the hospital commandeered a cargo truck. Simultaneously, another fifteen thugs arrived—all crippled by Zhang Wu's elbow strikes.

Four waves. Fifty bodies in thirty minutes. Huo Xuan revived two captives to identify ringleaders.

When the three brothers brought the truck, Huo Xuan ordered them to strip everyone except the four leaders naked, bind their limbs with ropes, and toss them into the cargo hold. He commanded: "Head east into the sparsely populated mountains. For every two li (1 kilometer) traveled, dump one person and sever their right hand."

The three men loaded fifty naked bodies without blinking. Diesel fumes choked the night as the truck vanished eastward.

Four ringleaders remained: Hei Chai (Black Jackal), Ma San (Third Horse), Qingpi Li (Green Skin Li), Daobiao Yang (Scarface Yang).

"I'll secure wheels," Zhang Wu stated.

The pickup truck roared southward into Nangang's saline wastelands—no crops, no residents, only cracked earth.

Thirty li (15 kilometers) later, Huo Xuan hurled the four onto a barren hillock. Impact dust plumes jolted them awake.

Ma San croaked through broken darkness: "Let's talk this out. I'm Ma San of Nangang—"

Huo Xuan's boot obliterated his plea—nose exploded, teeth shattered.

Ma San's howls echoed across salt flats. The surviving trio shivered—Which underworld faction bred this demon?

Huo Xuan said coldly: "I didn't ask you to speak. Better keep your mouth shut." Then he turned to one of the bald men: "You're Green-Scalp Li?"

"Y-yes sir," Green-Scalp Li stammered, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

"Who ordered you to target the Huo family?" Huo Xuan's voice was icy.

Green-Scalp Li's face changed: "Brother, we're all men of the underworld. You know the rules—I can't say."

CRACK!

Huo Xuan's foot came down hard, snapping Green-Scalp Li's shinbone with a sickening crunch. The man howled in agony, fists clenching, face contorted in pain.

Meanwhile, Zhang Wu was interrogating another man—a wiry figure with vicious eyes. Zhang Wu twisted one of the man's fingers: "Who ordered the attacks on the Huo family?"

Black Jackal's eyes flashed: "Lay one finger on me, and I guarantee you won't leave Nangang County alive!"