Many children bring happiness, a shameless start

Lip and Carl casually walked toward the alley beside the Sichuan restaurant, feigning nonchalance.

Once there, Lip quietly observed the target he had spotted earlier.

Across the street, two Asian men and a buzz-cut Dragon Kingdom man stood in a corner, speaking in low tones and glancing around warily.

One of the Asians pulled a black plastic bag from his jacket and opened it to show the Dragon Kingdom man.

In exchange, the Dragon Kingdom man took several ornate knives from the back pocket of his jeans and handed them over.

Both parties then dispersed quickly, heading in opposite directions.

"Carl, follow me," Lip instructed.

"Okay," Carl replied, trailing close behind.

The buzz-cut man wound through several alleys before entering a remote parking lot.

This isn't going to be easy, Lip thought grimly.

The man walked up to a black Ford F-150 and knocked three times on the tinted window.

The window rolled down, revealing a blond Asian man whose origin was hard to pinpoint. He gave the buzz-cut man a sharp look before walking toward a white minivan, a pistol in hand.

"Lip, that's an M1911!" Carl whispered.

"Hmm?"

"The M1911 is a semi-automatic pistol introduced in 1911, designed by John Browning and manufactured by Colt. It's reliable, durable, and easy to maintain. Caliber 0.45 inches, seven-round magazine—highly lethal."

"Carl, I didn't know you were such a firearms expert."

"Lip, why don't we back off?" Carl suggested nervously.

"Carl, you know I have skills. I'm not planning to fight them—just to see how they're handling these electronic goods."

"Lip, bullets don't have eyes!"

"Don't worry. Stay here and wait for me," Lip reassured him.

Carl hesitated but eventually nodded.

Wealth is found in danger, Lip thought as he crept closer to the white minivan, using the surrounding vehicles as cover.

Finally, he got a clear view.

The cargo door of the minivan had been converted into a workstation. Two older Dragon Kingdom men inside were deftly removing phones from the black bag provided by the buzz-cut man and disassembling them with practiced efficiency.

One phone was a Nokia, the other a Sony Ericsson. The men sorted the disassembled parts into transparent storage boxes in a meticulous order.

Lip immediately understood their operation.

They're using a "break it down" strategy, he realized.

First, they acquire high-end mobile phones from various unofficial channels. Then, they disassemble the devices and categorize the parts. Finally, they smuggle the components out of the country through hidden, mixed, or disguised shipments.

It's clever, Lip thought. By smuggling parts instead of complete phones, the risk is drastically reduced. Even if they're caught, authorities can only charge them for transporting phone accessories, not smuggling high-value electronics.

Lip remembered a case in Dragon Kingdom where smugglers of Apple products were sentenced to 20 years and fined millions. By contrast, this method was safer and even more profitable. Bold smugglers could even declare these parts as electronic waste and apply for environmental subsidies in the U.S.

Once the parts reached their destination, a little assembly, cleaning, and refurbishment could turn them into phones sold just below market value—a highly lucrative business.

No wonder smuggling operations are so rampant. There's too much profit to resist, Lip thought grimly.

Suddenly, a vehicle approached from Lip's right rear.

Is someone else coming to trade? Lip wondered, lowering himself to avoid detection.

The vehicle passed and stopped near the truck he had just observed.

"Run!" Lip heard someone shout in Chinese.

Then another voice barked, "If anyone moves, I'll blow their head off!"

Peering cautiously, Lip saw a bald, scar-faced man and four others surrounding the truck, each holding a pistol.

The blond man, now visibly tense, aimed his gun at Scarface.

"Are you sure you want to rob us, Akun?" the blond man growled.

Scarface sneered. "Still waiting for your backup from the pickup truck?"

"What did you do to them?"

"Relax, they're just unconscious," Scarface said smugly. "Now put the gun down, or my men will fill you with holes!"

"Akun, this is Jessica's territory. If she finds out, you'll be finished!"

Scarface's grin widened. "Don't mention her! Sooner or later, I'll have her crawling at my feet. Hahaha!"

With a sudden move, Scarface slashed the blond man's wrist with a knife, making him drop his gun.

"Speak up, or what's the point of this?" Scarface taunted, slapping the blond man's face.

Scarface's laughter grew louder, echoed by his lackeys.

Suddenly, one of the older men in the truck pulled a pistol from a drawer and fired at Scarface.

Scarface ducked instinctively, the bullet narrowly missing him.

"Damn!" the older man cursed, realizing he had missed.

"Kill them all!" Scarface roared, scrambling behind a car for cover.

Both sides dove for cover and exchanged gunfire, bullets flying in every direction.

Lip, hearing the first shot, ducked behind a nearby car.

No telling where these bullets might land, he thought grimly, staying as low as possible.