Chapter 5: Guan Yizhou Is Here!

"Lu Zheng! Are you insane? The Mayor's going to call any second now—you're bringing a catastrophe down on this whole station!"

Zhao Gang came scrambling up the stairs like a fat pig with its tail stepped on, tumbling into the main hall.

His uniform strained tight across his bulk, the collar already soaked through with sweat.

He'd been hiding upstairs the whole time, and he'd heard every last bit of what went down in the hall.

Shots fired. Teeth knocked out. A lawyer beaten bloody.

This wasn't a new commissioner taking office. This was a terrorist attack on the Jianghai City Public Security Bureau!

Zhao Gang barreled forward and planted himself squarely in front of Lawyer Zhang, who was still bleeding from the mouth.

He jabbed a trembling, pudgy finger at Lu Zheng's nose, eyes bugging out of his skull.

"You've got some kind of death wish! Mayor Gao's office already called mine!"

"Mayor Gao is furious! Do you understand? Furious!"

Spit flew from Zhao Gang's mouth as he tried to bury Lu Zheng under the weight of that name.

"You're not the commissioner anymore! Mayor Gao gave a verbal order—you're suspended from all duties effective immediately, pending internal review!"

The air in the hall froze solid.

The thugs huddled in the corners heard "Mayor Gao" and hope flickered back to life in their ashen eyes.

Lawyer Zhang lay on the floor, spat out a mouthful of bloody foam, and grinned a wet, ugly grin.

"Mmph... you're done for... just wait..."

Zhao Gang puffed out his beer belly—a belly that looked ten months pregnant—and turned to the stunned officers around him.

He pulled rank as Executive Deputy Commissioner and bellowed at the top of his lungs.

"What are you all standing around for? Get over here and disarm him!"

"This man is severely mentally ill—he's a violent maniac! I'm in full command of this bureau now!"

Zhao Gang's voice echoed through the cavernous hall, dripping with unquestionable authority.

But awkwardly enough, a full ten seconds passed and not a single person moved.

A few young probationary officers exchanged glances. Not only did they not step forward—they quietly tightened their grips on their batons.

Are you kidding?

Go disarm that killing machine of a commissioner? You got a death wish?

And besides—when those gangsters were strutting around the hall earlier, you didn't dare make a peep, Commissioner Zhao.

Now that the gangsters got their asses kicked, you suddenly jump out to throw your weight around.

What was this, if not blatant favoritism—being a dog for the criminals?

"Mutiny! You're all in mutiny, aren't you?"

Zhao Gang saw no one obeying. His fat jiggled with rage as he jabbed a finger at the young officers and cursed them out.

"Lin Feng! Xiao Wang! You're ignoring my orders now?"

"None of you want your jobs anymore? Believe me, I'll have you stripped and thrown out tomorrow—don't even think about your pensions!"

Lin Feng, the squad leader named, gritted his teeth and turned his face away, pretending not to hear.

Shen Bing, sent over from the Provincial Department, stood off to the side watching Zhao Gang hop around, her delicate brows knitted tight.

She was finally seeing just how murky the waters of Jianghai City really were.

A dignified Executive Deputy Commissioner of a city bureau—instead of backing his own officers, he was bending over backward to protect a bunch of gangsters.

It was beyond absurd.

Just as Zhao Gang was about to stamp his feet in frustration and charge forward to grab the gun himself—

*Click.*

A crisp metallic sound cut through the air.

Lu Zheng leisurely slid the Black Star pistol back into its holster and flicked the safety on.

He raised his head and looked at Zhao Gang with something that wasn't quite a smile.

Zhao Gang saw it and felt a wave of relief wash over him.

He figured Lu Zheng had finally caved to the pressure from city leadership.

"Now you're being sensible!" Zhao Gang's confidence came flooding back; he straightened his spine.

"Now—hands on your head, march yourself to the holding cell! Wait for the municipal inspection team to deal with you."

As he spoke, Zhao Gang swaggered toward Lu Zheng, steps wide and swaying.

He reached for the cuffs at his waist, ready to publicly teach this upstart commissioner a lesson.

Lu Zheng stood perfectly still.

The mocking curve at the corner of his mouth only deepened.

He even pulled a wad of chewed-up tobacco from his pocket and casually spat it on the floor.

"Zhao Gang. Thirty years grinding away in the Jianghai Bureau, and this is as far as you climbed—Executive Deputy."

Lu Zheng's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chill that seeped into the bones.

Zhao Gang's steps faltered, his face darkening. "Cut the crap! Execute the order!"

Lu Zheng let out a cold laugh.

"Half a lifetime of grinding, and your bones have gone completely soft. You've forgotten how to stand like a cop."

"Since you love being a dog for the gangs so much, I'll send you on your way."

The words had barely landed.

Lu Zheng—loose and casual a second ago—moved his right leg without warning.

No windup. Fast as a bolt of black lightning.

*Bam!*

A dull, scalp-numbing thud.

Lu Zheng's tactical boot, thick-soled and heavy, drove square into Zhao Gang's round beer belly.

Time seemed to slow.

Zhao Gang's arrogant expression hadn't even had time to fade—his eyeballs bulged out violently.

His near-two-hundred-pound bulk launched off the ground like a flesh-colored cannonball fresh out of the barrel.

"Ahhh—!"

With a shrill scream, Zhao Gang flew backward a full three meters through the air.

*Crash!*

He slammed hard into the marble reception desk behind him.

The solid wood surface caved in halfway, sending splinters and blue folders flying everywhere.

Zhao Gang landed in the wreckage like an overturned turtle, twitching wildly.

Stomach acid mixed with his half-digested lunch came spewing out of his mouth.

Pain. So damn much pain.

He felt like his organs had shifted out of place, his intestines run through a meat grinder.

The hall went dead silent again.

The dozens of thugs scrambled into the corners, trying to embed themselves in the cracks of the wall.

He'd kicked the Deputy Commissioner across the room.

What kind of death god had escaped from which mental hospital?!

Lin Feng and the veteran officers stared, eyes wide. But beneath the shock, something else flickered in their eyes—something fierce and barely contained.

Thirty years of swallowed humiliation—it all seemed to pour out in that one kick.

Shen Bing sucked in a sharp breath, her hand flying to her mouth.

She'd thought Lu Zheng was only ruthless with gangsters. She hadn't expected him to be just as savage and decisive with colleagues inside the system.

Lu Zheng stepped over the wreckage, walking slowly toward Zhao Gang.

To Zhao Gang's ears, the crunch of tactical boots on broken glass sounded like the reaper's footsteps.

"Don't... don't come closer..."

Zhao Gang clutched his stomach, face smeared with snot and tears, shrinking desperately into the corner of the counter.

He was genuinely terrified now.

Lu Zheng reached the wreckage and bent slightly.

His big, calloused hand shot out and grabbed Zhao Gang by the collar, hauling him halfway up.

The reek of tobacco mixed with blood hit Zhao Gang square in the nose.

"Mayor Gao is furious?"

Lu Zheng stared into Zhao Gang's small, fear-filled eyes, his tone calm as if discussing the weather.

"Even if he walked in here right now with his inspection team, he'd get the same kick."

Zhao Gang's teeth chattered so hard he couldn't get a word out.

Lu Zheng's gaze dropped to the gleaming Second-Class Police Supervisor epaulets on Zhao Gang's shoulders.

"Wearing this uniform—you're a stain on the national emblem."

Then his big hand clamped down on the epaulet.

*Riiiip—*

A harsh tear of fabric.

Lu Zheng ripped the rank off Zhao Gang's shoulder, uniform cloth and all.

Cotton batting and snapped threads spilled into the air—comical and pathetic.

He did the same to the other side.

Zhao Gang stared blankly at the ranks in Lu Zheng's hand. Half a lifetime of grinding, and that was the honor and power he'd earned.

Now stripped away in front of everyone.

"I, as the head of the Jianghai City Public Security Bureau, hereby formally announce."

Lu Zheng swept his gaze across the room, his voice booming like a bell into every corner.

"Executive Deputy Commissioner Zhao Gang is suspected of colluding with organized crime and acting as their protective umbrella."

"Effective immediately—suspended pending investigation! Service weapon and police ID confiscated. Travel restrictions imposed!"

Dead silence.

A few officers hidden in the ranks—the ones close to Zhao Gang—quickly dropped their heads.

Cold sweat beaded on their foreheads. Their breathing turned shallow and careful, terrified of drawing Lu Zheng's attention.

That thunderous display of authority crushed every murmur of dissent in the bureau on the spot.

Anyone who stuck their neck out would end up like Zhao Gang.

Lu Zheng tossed the two torn epaulets onto Zhao Gang's pale, fat face like garbage.

Zhao Gang went limp, sliding down the counter to the floor, a puddle of nothing.

Clean. Sharp. Not a shred of hesitation.

Lu Zheng straightened up and brushed the dust off his jacket.

He twisted his neck slightly—*crack, crack*—as if satisfied with the warm-up.

In the entire bureau hall, apart from the groans of the injured, you could hear a pin drop.

Lu Zheng turned and didn't spare the mess in the hall another glance.

He walked straight toward the dark interrogation room at the far end of the corridor.

Chen Han was stationed at the door. The solid gold coffin lay across the aisle—the man inside had long since gone quiet.

Lu Zheng stopped at the threshold.

He pushed open the heavy iron door and spoke coldly without looking back.

"No one's in the way now. Chen Han—open the coffin. Let's see how hard the Young Master's bones really are."