Xiao Fuxing stood there in shock for a long while before she finally stammered out:
"Y-you… what did you just say? It's you?"
"Who else would it be?"
Lin Yao laughed as he gently peeled her off himself, pinching her still-dazed cheek with his fingers.
"Tell me—right now in the whole organization, who else has strength that can match mine?"
After saying that, he turned and walked toward the bathroom, leaving Xiao Fuxing standing frozen in place.
But only a few seconds passed before her shock was completely replaced by wild joy.
Her eyes instantly turned red, and she hurried after him into the bathroom.
…
Canada Road, No. 17.
The new base.
Lin Yao first arranged for four capable underlings to guard Huajie's place. Then he had A-Bu collect accounts and personally went to the bank's safety deposit box to withdraw one million.
All of it was old cash.
It had been stored in a safety deposit box under a cash arrangement, not deposited into an account. All you needed was the password—no name attached.
Many Hong Kong syndicates operated like this. Only the boss of the hall knew about it.
Huajie knew the money existed, but she didn't dare touch it.
One million Hong Kong dollars, all in thousand-dollar bills—once in hand, it weighed just over three catties.
Lin Yao packed it into a single briefcase. He would deliver it to Huajie that afternoon.
Taking it over at night would've been way too risky.
As for turning in money to the higher-ups—delay if possible, or find another solution.
Back at the hall.
One by one, Fat Wah's former underlings came up to greet him.
"Brother Yao!"
"Brother Yao, good morning!"
"Boss!"
They called him everything imaginable.
These were all people with some standing in the hall. Though they were all still "four-nine" level, each was responsible for a turf.
Valet parking, club bouncers, loan sharking, horse handlers… all sorts of work.
One of them looked vaguely familiar to Lin Yao.
"What's your name?" Lin Yao asked, looking at him.
"Boss, I'm Wu… Wu…"
Wu scratched his head, wearing that unmistakable "I've seen you before in a movie" grin.
The moment he spoke, Lin Yao knew exactly which film he reminded him of.
Wu's strengths were loyalty, courage, and decent fighting skills.
His weaknesses—hot-headed, trouble-prone, and a bit reckless.
"Which turf are you running now?" Lin Yao asked after taking a drag of his cigarette.
"A small bar next door. I used to work under Brother Feng."
"Take me to see it." Lin Yao raised a hand, cutting him off.
"Yes—yes, Boss!" Wu lit up with excitement.
Being noticed by the new boss meant a future full of promise.
The other thugs immediately shot Wu envious looks.
They didn't understand why this young boss valued Wu so much.
Was it because Wu could fight and wasn't afraid of death?
Just as they stepped out of the hall, they saw a nearly brand-new Mercedes parked outside.
A thug smiled and said to Lin Yao:
"Brother Yao, I'm from headquarters. Uncle Deng said this car is for you—official use. You can use it whenever you need."
"…?"
Lin Yao was momentarily stunned. He even got perks like this?
But he quickly understood—this old fox was deliberately grooming him.
Looks like the power struggle against Big D had already begun to ferment.
"Go back and thank Uncle Deng for me," Lin Yao said with a smile.
"Got it. If there's nothing else, I'll head back."
After speaking, the thug left behind the car keys.
It was a second-hand Mercedes S-Class (W140), nicknamed the "Tiger Head Benz."
In this era, it was the standard ride of successful men.
Perfect—his second-hand Ford could be handed over to A-Bu.
This old fox really knew how to balance things.
Trying to buy him off with a second-hand Tiger Head Benz?
Still… Lin Yao did feel a bit grateful.
Without Deng's backing, it would've been nearly impossible for him to take the boss position so smoothly.
But after crossing over, the original movie plot was bound to change.
Would Uncle Deng still be pushed down the stairs by Ah Lok?
If things followed the movie, Lin Yao would need to make corresponding preparations.
Before Deng finished playing his "Invincible Firewheel" hand, Lin Yao had to squeeze every bit of value out of him.
Mutual exploitation wasn't unacceptable—black or white, everyone played the same game.
Better get used to it.
Soon, under Wu's guidance, Lin Yao arrived at a bar called Night归人.
Since it was morning, the bar wasn't open, but the door was unlocked.
Among bars in Tsim Sha Tsui, this one counted as high-end, with flashy gold-and-jade decor.
But to Lin Yao, it still felt a bit tacky—no comparison to the refined bars of later generations.
Still, modern bars didn't have nearly as many "games," nor were they this open.
According to his memories, places like this mainly dealt in "color business," similar to brothels.
Customers could choose hostess dancers—to dance, drink, or even take them out.
But you had to buy time: 100 per hour.
In this era, that was pure high-end consumption.
As for what happened afterward, it was up to the hostess and customer—as long as nothing crossed the line.
Since it was morning, all the hostesses were resting. Not a single woman in sight.
Only a few cleaners were tidying up.
Before long, a disheveled middle-aged man rushed in, clearly flustered.
According to Wu's introduction, he was the bar's manager.
"Wu, call over all the small bosses who drank with us last night," Lin Yao said, sitting at the bar.
"Yes, Boss!"
Wu immediately turned to make calls.
It was obvious that despite being a small boss, Wu lived frugally—even his phone was an old brick model.
Last night, Lin Yao had only drunk and chatted. He hadn't asked in detail about each small boss.
Now that he had "ascended the throne," he needed to get a clear look at his "civil and military officials."
Half an hour later.
Everyone arrived—the same people who'd been drinking last night.
Just over twenty in total.
Each small boss managed around ten people.
"Boss!"
"Boss!"
"Brother Yao!"
"Brother Yao!"
…
One by one, they entered and respectfully greeted Lin Yao.
Though Lin Yao was younger than all of them, after that Hongxing battle, every one of them acknowledged him completely.
He had them introduce themselves and report the profits from their turfs.
As he listened, Lin Yao's brow slowly furrowed.
If the numbers were accurate, the entire hall was operating at a loss.
Which meant either they were skimming money under the table—
—or Fat Wah and Hun Jianglong had swallowed it all.
Lin Yao would rather believe it was the latter.
This situation couldn't continue.
A drastic reform was unavoidable.
First, smash all their existing turfs apart.
Then reestablish reward-and-punishment rules.
At the same time, Lin Yao announced that
until a suitable accountant was found, he would personally oversee the books and manage the funds himself.
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