Chapter 39: No Desire for Reconciliation

“Manager, by the time I got here with the men, they had already finished smashing things and left,” Xu Jing, the team leader, stepped forward to explain as Mo Han arrived at the Security Department.

Mo Han nodded. “How are the injured?”

The office area was three miles from the factory, a considerable walk. He had already heard that over a dozen security guards had been hurt.

“They’ve been taken to the hospital. Just some superficial wounds—not serious,” Xu Jing replied.

“That’s good. Take me to the factory,” Mo Han said.

“Yes, sir.” Xu Jing nodded and followed Mo Han outside.

“Where did you serve?” Mo Han glanced at Xu Jing and asked. He had just taken over the Security Department yesterday, and of the whole team, only Xu Jing had caught his eye. The others were all show and no substance.

“The Western Front. Later, I was selected for the Special Forces, but after a failed mission, I was forced to retire last year,” Xu Jing answered with a hint of pride on his face.

“Special Forces. No wonder.” Mo Han nodded and said nothing more.

Seeing Mo Han fall silent, Xu Jing said nothing either. Soon they arrived at the factory.

The scene upon entering was one of utter chaos. Workers were methodically repairing and tidying up the damaged equipment.

“Have them calculate the cost of the damaged machinery and equipment. I want a figure before the end of the day,” Mo Han said coldly, a murderous glint in his eyes. Someone had to pay for these losses.

Sensing the chill emanating from Mo Han, Xu Jing was momentarily stunned, surprised. In his impression, Mo Han was just the live-in son-in-law of the Li family—a good-for-nothing living off his wife. So when the company appointed Mo Han as Security Manager yesterday, none of the guards took him seriously. They all believed he’d gotten the position through connections. The security staff were all ex-servicemen with some rough edges—without real strength, who could keep them in check?

Xu Jing himself looked down on those who rose through nepotism. In his view, the Security Department needed men of iron and steel, not bookish weaklings.

Yet now, feeling the icy aura radiating from Mo Han, Xu Jing gave him another look.

Ten minutes later, the accountant handed Mo Han a list. After careful calculation, the losses came to at least ten million. If a new production line had to be installed, it would cost at least twenty million.

“Do you know where Yu Hu’s turf is?” Mo Han pocketed the list and looked at Xu Jing.

“I do,” Xu Jing replied.

“Take me there,” Mo Han said, already heading out.

Xu Jing was taken aback, wondering if he’d heard correctly. “You’re going to confront Yu Hu?”

“Someone has to pay for these losses, don’t you think?” Mo Han replied coolly.

Xu Jing stared at Mo Han, shaken. Mo Han looked every bit the frail scholar—what gave him the confidence to go after Yu Hu, and to do it so openly? Wasn’t that courting death?

“Manager, we only have a dozen guards left. Are you sure you want to go head to head with Yu Hu?” Xu Jing asked, catching up.

“What, are you afraid?” Mo Han glanced back, sneering.

“Hmph, protecting the company is my duty, I have nothing to fear. But as team leader, to knowingly lead my men into a fight we can’t win—that’s disregarding their safety,” Xu Jing retorted.

“Fine, then just you and I will go. No one else is needed,” Mo Han said.

Xu Jing felt insulted, his face darkening. “Fine!” he replied coldly.

If Mo Han wasn’t afraid of death, why should he be? As a Special Forces veteran, he might not be able to take on dozens, but he was confident he could protect himself.

At the Volkswagen, Mo Han tossed Xu Jing the keys and took the passenger seat. He trusted Xu Jing could drive.

Xu Jing said nothing more and started the car, heading toward Baiyun District.

…

At that moment, Yang Er and his men were drinking and celebrating at the Swagger Bar.

“Damn, this money’s too easy. Less than an hour’s work and we each made a thousand. Thanks for leading us to fortune, Second Brother!”

“Yeah, Second Brother, here’s to you!”

The gangsters raised their glasses to the burly man at the head of the table—Yang Er, a notorious tough in the area.

“Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, none of you will suffer. Cheers!” Yang Er clinked his glass with the others and downed it in one gulp.

“Work hard, everyone. This is just the beginning. Tiger said there’s more work coming,” Yang Er declared boldly.

“Tiger is mighty!”

“Second Brother is mighty!”

The gangsters cheered again. Just then, one of them leaned over and whispered to Yang Er, “Second Brother, two guys outside say they’re from the pharmaceutical plant’s security.”

“The security chief from the pharmaceutical plant?” Yang Er’s eyes lit up. They’d just smashed up the plant, and now their security was here to negotiate—perfect for a shakedown.

He’d heard the pharmaceutical plant had just signed a hundred-million deal with Dongjia Group—money to burn. If he didn’t extort at least ten or twenty million, he’d be letting down his years in the business.

“Yes, just two of them. They must be here to make peace,” the gangster said excitedly. Rich people’s money was so much easier to make.

“Bring them in,” Yang Er ordered.

“No need.”

At that moment, Mo Han and Xu Jing walked in. Mo Han’s face was calm, but Xu Jing’s was grim. After all, they were walking into the tiger’s den.

“So you two are the security chiefs from the pharmaceutical plant, here to make peace?” Yang Er sized them up, noting their slight builds, and dismissed them outright.

“By the way, I hear your plant is loaded. Unless you’ve got twenty million, there’s nothing to talk about,” Yang Er added.

The dozens of gangsters closed in, trying to intimidate Mo Han and Xu Jing with sheer numbers.

“We’re not here to make peace,” Mo Han replied coolly.

“What?” Yang Er thought he’d misheard.

Mo Han took out the list and handed it to Yang Er. “You smashed up my plant, causing heavy losses. This is the compensation. Take a look.”

Yang Er stared blankly, taking the list without thinking. One glance at the number and he exploded, “Are you out of your damn mind, asking us for fifty million? Have you lost your mind over money?”

Mo Han had changed the figure to fifty million in the car. Though the direct loss was only ten or twenty million, factoring in delays and other losses, the total was much higher.

“So foul-mouthed. Looks like I’ll have to knock some sense into you before we can talk,” Mo Han said, and slapped Yang Er across the face.

Seeing Mo Han make a move, Xu Jing was shocked—admiring Mo Han’s courage, but also thinking he was a bit of a fool. With forty or fifty gangsters here, starting a fight was practically suicide.