The vessel in the night was so dark it seemed like an extension of the sea itself, rolling and pitching with the waves, appearing now near, now far.
Lying in wait, the members of the Second Unit gripped their tactical gear tightly, their eyes locked onto the advancing ship, waiting for it to approach the shoreline amidst the roar of the waves and the drone of its motor.
The distance between them shrank rapidly.
It drew close enough for the officers hidden within the skeletal structures of the abandoned construction site to clearly make out several large, white-painted characters on its hull: “Meimei DT”—a peculiar hybrid name of Chinese characters and English letters, its meaning a mystery.
Yet at that exact moment, instead of pulling ashore, the Meimei executed a sharp pivot in place, turning its bow back toward the open sea.
What was going on?
Under Huo Ranyin’s rigorous leadership, no one caused a commotion, but a jolt of astonishment hit the team like a small explosive dropped into a calm lake—completely imperceptible on the surface, but churning with turbulence beneath.
Why had the ship suddenly retreated?
Had their intel leaked? Or had the crew spotted something suspicious?
By now, not only were the frontline units positioned in ambush, but Bureau Chief Zhou and the deputy chiefs had established a command center back at headquarters. Monitoring the frontline in real-time via various surveillance feeds, the command center quickly relayed an directive:
Keep positions. Continue to wait.
The vessel cruised forward a bit longer but didn’t flee completely.
It simply circled within their line of sight. Time ticked away as dozens of eyes hidden in the darkness silently tracked the vessel, until finally, at exactly five minutes to 4:00 AM, the Meimei turned around once more, steering directly for the coast.
Simultaneously, Yuan Yue’s voice crackled over the radio:
“Movement in the village. A group of villagers, roughly seven to eight people across three cargo trucks, have departed from Xilai Road and are heading toward the abandoned site. Chen Jiahe is with them, boarded on the third vehicle.”
The team’s spirits lifted instantly!
Since everything was proceeding according to layout, it proved their initial anxieties were wrong. There was no leak, and the crew hadn’t detected a trap. The ship’s sudden retreat and hovering earlier was simply because it was ahead of schedule; it was merely timing its arrival down to the exact minute!
Two to three minutes later.
The low rumble of approaching vehicles echoed from behind the abandoned site. Then, twin beams of headlights cut through the pitch-black night as three cargo trucks bypassed the structure one after another, driving straight onto the shoreline ahead.
The trucks ground to a halt, and their occupants filed out. From his vantage point, Ji Xun spotted Chen Jiahe—that shock of dyed yellow hair made him incredibly easy to pick out anywhere. Next, the driver of the lead truck and a short companion turned on their heels, walking back toward the abandoned structures, conversing as they walked.
“Everything going smoothly?”
“Nothing unusual. Stop overthinking it.”
The two voices—one male, one female—were intensely familiar.
As they drew closer, Ji Xun recognized them: it was Dayan and Old Qi, the very couple who had been trailing them with two thugs since they first entered the village.
The couple threaded through the skeletal frames of the site with clear purpose, heading straight for the yellow crane.
Having traveled this path countless times, and despite having phones in hand, neither of them bothered to switch on a flashlight. Even Old Qi, who had been thoroughly paranoid earlier, failed to consider that barely a meter or two from his feet, police officers were crouching in the shadows.
Yet, perhaps that persistent paranoia had truly manifested into a lingering premonition, casting a shadow over Old Qi.
Stepping into the crane’s cabin, Old Qi attempted to turn the ignition. But whether due to the biting cold or the vehicle sitting idle for too long, the engine sputtered repeatedly, failing to catch.
“Dayan, I’ve got a bad feeling about this…”
The cabin light was on, illuminating Old Qi’s face, which was twisted into a bitter frown.
He wasn’t the only one anxious.
The hidden officers were equally on edge. They had endured the bitter cold for most of the night, taking ninety-nine steps successfully—the last thing they needed was a stumble on the final step. If this crew suddenly aborted the cargo operation, they would lose their chance to capture the ringleaders!
“Calm down,” Dayan snapped, her voice stiff.
“You drive then,” Old Qi sighed, climbing out of the cab.
They swapped places. The moment Dayan climbed inside and twisted the key, the engine roared to life with a smooth, powerful rumble.
Without a shred of hesitation, the woman spun the steering wheel, driving the明黄 crane toward the shoreline.
Old Qi, having vacated his seat, was left behind on foot. But since the shore was a stone’s throw away, walking over was simple enough.
Down by the shore, the remaining crew members were throwing open the truck beds, hauling out tightly bound cardboard boxes and stacking them on the ground. Even Chen Jiahe, the wealthy young heir, was actively lifting crates—a testament to just how desperate he was to escape this place.
Inside the dark structure, Huo Ranyin spoke into his radio in a low, tight whisper: “Stand by. Await my command.”
The yellow crane crawled into its familiar position. The vessel out front pressed tight against the shore.
“Three…”
The crane’s hoist hook lowered, snagging a pallet of cargo.
Strangely, Old Qi hadn’t left the abandoned structures to join the others on the beach. He was still lingering, pacing aimlessly within the skeletal frames.
“Two…”
“Wait, who are you?! What are you doing hiding here!”
A panicked shout tore through the silence. Old Qi, wandering through the darkness, had stumbled directly into Tan Mingjiu’s hidden position.
“Go! Go! Go!”
Huo Ranyin didn’t falter for a single second. He bellowed the charge command into his radio and was the first to vault out of his concealment, leading his team in a dead sprint toward the loading zone ahead.
Damn it! Of all the people here, you just had to spot me!
Tan Mingjiu, thoroughly enraged at being exposed, lunged forward, slamming Old Qi flat against the ground. He roared, “Police! Nobody move!”
As loud as the shout was, Huo Ranyin was faster.
The smugglers loading cargo by the shore turned back in utter bewilderment. By the time they realized what was happening, Huo Ranyin had already closed the distance to a mere ten to fifteen meters. Before they could scatter and flee, he tore into their midst like a hurricane.
Amidst the chaos, Chen Jiahe panicked completely.
He initially lunged toward the trucks, but at that moment, everyone was trying to reach the vehicles. The title of “Young Boss Chen” carried zero weight now; he was shoved, buffeted, and jostled by the frantic crowd until he was driven right to the water’s edge.
The black, frigid seawater lapped over his ankles. The nighttime ocean possessed a serene, expansive, and terrifying emptiness.
Yet that primal terror paled in comparison to the sight of Huo Ranyin charging directly at him.
Chen Jiahe froze for a few frantic seconds before letting out a blood-curdling shriek. He plunged headfirst into the sea, thrashing his arms and legs wildly to swim away. But he was far too slow. Huo Ranyin was already upon him, locking onto Chen Jiahe as if pinning a thrashing fish. With a powerful twist of his torso, he dragged the man out of the water and hurled him hard onto the sand.
With a sharp clack, a pair of silver handcuffs, colder than the seawater, locked tight around Chen Jiahe’s wrists. Slumped on the ground, he stripped of all capacity to resist.
The primary target of the operation had been secured, but before Huo Ranyin could even draw a breath, Bureau Chief Zhou’s furious voice erupted through his earpiece:
“The ship! The ship is trying to pull away!”
Huo Ranyin spun around instantly. While he had been leading the charge to apprehend Chen Jiahe, the crew aboard the Meimei had recovered from their brief shock. The helmsman was frantically spinning the wheel, throttling the engines to flee the scene.
There were other vessels out at sea—the anti-smuggling units authorized to assist—but to maintain total stealth, they had held back at a significant distance. They still had a long way to travel before they could intercept the Meimei.
They couldn’t rely on their colleagues at sea just yet. They had to handle it themselves.
But to handle it themselves—
Huo Ranyin’s eyes locked onto the retreating hull. The cargo vessel wasn’t massive, but its deck still loomed significantly higher than a man’s height, and there was zero footing to be found in the open water. He needed a way up…
“Huo Ranyin!”
Ji Xun’s shout echoed from behind.
Huo Ranyin snapped his head back, spotting a familiar face inside the crane’s operating cabin—it was Ji Xun! He had boarded the vehicle, while Dayan, the original operator, was pinned flat on the ground outside, thoroughly neutralized by the backup officers.
There was no time for explanations.
Ji Xun extended his arm, pointing directly at the bound cargo hooked onto the crane’s hoist.
That’s plenty. Huo Ranyin instantly grasped Ji Xun’s intent. Silently praising the brilliant move, he turned and vaulted onto the crate, gripping the heavy hoist cables and crouching low atop the cargo.
With a resonant vroom, the massive crane boom shuddered, swinging upward and outward. Inside the cabin, Ji Xun’s fingers danced across the control panel, using the crane’s mechanical arm to sweep Huo Ranyin across the gap toward the retreating ship.
A step slow meant a step behind. Tan Mingjiu, having secured Old Qi and rushed over, was left a step too late. He could only watch as Huo Ranyin soared into the air atop the cargo, the crane boom slicing away right past his fingertips.
He froze in utter disbelief. “…Are you guys animals?! Wait for me! Brothers are supposed to charge together! Ji Xun, hold on a second! Team Leader Huo can’t go up alone, it’s too dangerous!”
Ji Xun was locked in deep concentration, completely deaf to Tan Mingjiu’s shouting.
Right now, they were racing against the clock, and the seconds were slipping away.
“Faster, faster!”
“Get us out of here, they’re coming!”
“Cops! There are cops on the shore too!”
Though he was suspended high above the ground, the chaos below boiled like a cauldron of scalding water, sending a cacophony of frantic shouts drifting up into the night air directly into Huo Ranyin’s ears.
The wind whipped violently at this height, causing the cargo pallet to sway unsteadily, rocking Huo Ranyin along with it as he knelt atop it.
Huo Ranyin’s gaze swept past the scattered crowd on the shore, past the officers in hot pursuit, past the distant anti-smuggling boats closing in, and finally, settled on Ji Xun, who was operating the crane with absolute precision.
Lastly, his hawk-like gaze locked onto the Meimei.
The crane boom extended up, forward, and then angled down, drawing closer and closer to the panicked vessel attempting to flee…
Finally, the cargo hovered roughly two meters diagonally above the deck. It was still a bit high, and a touch far.
But it would have to do. If he waited any longer, the ship would gain too much momentum.
Huo Ranyin stood up, taking two steps back from the center of the crate to its very edge.
A short run, and a leap.
In the dead of night, his silhouette cut through the open air, crashing firmly onto the deck!
“Yes!”
Several cheers erupted across the radio network.
The chiefs monitoring the operation via the live feeds had witnessed Huo Ranyin’s spectacular breach, the praise slipping out amidst the suffocating tension. They watched even closer as the retreating ship suddenly began to pitch violently. Then, with a massive shudder of its hull, the bow swung heavily back toward the shoreline!
An opening!
Bureau Chief Zhou was the first to snatch the radio, roaring: “Secure the hull! Charge the deck!”
The gold medal’s gone, but the silver is mine!
Without needing the Chief to tell him twice, Tan Mingjiu—unable to take the crane route—had already sprinted to the edge of the shore to grab hold of the ship’s gunwale. But someone was faster, tearing past him like a gust of wind, stepping onto the hull and vaulting onto the bow in a single, fluid motion.
It was Old Ji!
Old Ji doesn’t just have a brilliant mind; his physical stats are insane too! Tan Mingjiu thought wildly. Having lost the race for second place, he quickly shifted his target: Third! I’m definitely the third one up! I can still snag the bronze!
Yet at that exact instant, another silhouette materialized from the darkness. Wen Yangyang appeared at an entirely unexpected moment. She threw herself upward, her hands gripping the gunwale, and used Tan Mingjiu’s shoulder as a stepping stone. With a nimble spring, she vaulted onto the bow like a graceful deer.
“…Son of a—!!!”
All the breath Tan Mingjiu had left to curse was channeled entirely into his arms. Following right on Wen Yangyang’s heels, he dragged himself over the edge and flipped onto the deck.
Huo Ranyin had broken the line first, followed by the vanguard. Soon, as the suspects fleeing on the shore were completely neutralized, a wave of reinforcement officers swarmed the stranded Meimei. Within fifteen minutes, the commotion aboard the vessel was entirely suppressed, and the ship was brought under complete police control!
Inside the bridge cabin, Ji Xun looked at the crew members slouched on the floor with their hands over their heads, terrified to offer any resistance, and the continuous stream of officers securing the perimeter.
He let out a long, exhausted breath and raised his hand toward Huo Ranyin.
Huo Ranyin released his grip on the ship’s wheel, stepped forward, and raised his palm in kind.
Slap.
With a crisp, resonant strike, the two detectives shared a high-five.
