Chapter 27: What the Hell Is This!

The street in front of the Fourth Bureau was packed with a sea of people.

"Lin Yu! Get the hell out for me!" Chen Guotai stood at the front, shouting hoarsely.

"You ignorant brat, see whose territory this is!" Sun Zhiyuan also shouted.

Zhao Hongfei went further, "If you're a man, get the hell down here!"

Over six hundred people gathered at the gate, some rattling batons, others slapping rifle stocks, creating a clamor. Passersby detoured, fearing trouble.

In the second‑floor office, Lin Yu stood by the window, looking down at the scene.

"Heh," a cold smile curled at his mouth, "These three losers still can't swallow their pride."

With their outdated muzzle‑loading rifles and batons, they dare to provoke his military police?

Two hundred combat troops each carried a Lee‑Enfield rifle and a Webley revolver, and fifty special forces were equipped with Winchester M1897 shotguns and Colt revolvers. This firepower could sweep this mob.

"Zhang Zhi Yuan," Lin Yu said softly.

"Present!" the Deputy Bureau Chief appeared at the doorway immediately.

"Prepare the military police," Lin Yu's eyes flashed coldly, "It's time to teach these reckless fools a lesson."

"That kid is finished today!" Chen Guotai said smugly, feeling the muzzle‑loading rifle at his waist, "Seven or eight hundred men, over a hundred guns; even if his Fourth Bureau has over two hundred men, they'll have to surrender!"

Sun Zhiyuan sneered, "How many weapons do his men have? A single action bureau can only field a few dozen muzzle‑loading rifles. We have over a hundred guns here; what can he fight us with?"

"Exactly," Zhao Hongfei said disdainfully, "That kid only got this position because of his good family background, parachuting into the Fourth Bureau as director. What is he? Today he'll learn that in Shen City, a greenhorn like him has no right to run amok!"

The three exchanged barbs, growing more smug. In their eyes, today's battle was already won.

After all, how much force can an action bureau muster? They're all security departments; who doesn't know each other? Apart from a few captains with guns, the rest just wield batons to keep order.

Even if Lin Yu is a parachuted director, could he arm the Fourth Bureau to the teeth in just a few days?

"If he still refuses to back down later," Chen Guotai sneered, "we'll charge in and disarm his whole crew!"

"Right!" Sun Zhiyuan agreed, "Let him know that anyone who can roam Shen City freely isn't him, Lin Yu!"

Just as the three directors were smug, the Fourth Bureau's main gate suddenly opened.

Uniform footfalls sounded as two hundred military police marched out in two rows. Clad in crisp uniforms, backs straight, steps synchronized, they displayed astonishing discipline.

But what shocked the three directors most was the team's equipment—

All were Lee‑Enfield rifles, their barrels gleaming oily in the sun. Pure imports—"long barrels"—cost at least thirty silver dollars each. Even the court's elite troops don't fully equip with such fine weapons.

Each soldier also wore a brand‑new Webley revolver at his waist. The shining barrels showed they were fresh stock from the arms dealer.

"How... how is this possible?" Chen Guotai's eyes widened, "Over two hundred Lee‑Enfields? Over two hundred Webleys? How much does that cost?"

What surprised them further were the fifty special‑force troops behind. They wore custom black leather armor and uniforms, Colt revolvers at their waists, and brandished a weapon they had never seen.

"What gun is that?" Sun Zhiyuan swallowed.

It was a Winchester M1897 shotgun, a weapon unheard of in this era of Shen City.

Two hundred fifty fully armed military police formed a perfect line; their mere presence sent chills through the mob opposite.

"This... this can't be!" Zhao Hongfei stammered, "How can a single action bureau have so many imported weapons? Even the First Bureau doesn't have this setup!"

Indeed, even if you combine the gear of all three bureaus, it doesn't match half of this team's elite equipment. Moreover, the soldiers' stance and aura show they are rigorously trained elites.

Their over a hundred shabby muzzle‑loading rifles looked like toys next to this well‑equipped unit.

Worse still, the opponent's weapons are brand‑new imports, while our muzzle‑loaders are mostly years‑old second‑hand pieces, some even jam.

The three directors exchanged glances, cold sweat beading on their foreheads. They finally realized the danger of the opponent they'd provoked.

This is no ordinary action bureau; it's clearly a fully armed elite force!

"Now... what do we do?" Sun Zhiyuan asked tremblingly.

Just as the three directors were at a loss,

Lin Yu sauntered out, idly twirling a Colt 1911 in his hand.

The pistol was jet‑black, its surface glinting coldly in the sun.

"Three esteemed directors, what brings you here?" Lin Yu leaned on the rail, a playful smile at his lips.

The three stared at Lin Yu's Colt 1911, their hearts racing again. It was a brand‑new pistol, rarely seen even in foreign shops, costing over a hundred silver dollars each. Yet Lin Yu handled it like a toy, clearly not valuing such a precious gun.

"That kid... what's his background?" Chen Guotai felt a chill.

How could a Fourth Action Bureau that had been idle for years possess such gear? Over two hundred Lee‑Enfields, over two hundred Webleys, fifty Winchesters, plus matching pistols and leather armor... how much would that cost?

Even if you pooled the budgets of all three bureaus, they still couldn't afford this equipment, right?

Sun Zhiyuan's forehead beaded with cold sweat: "Had we known it would be like this, that bravado last night should've been swallowed whole..."

Zhao Hongfei regretted even more. He had thought bringing seven or eight hundred men would teach the young director a lesson. Now it was clear the man was beyond their reach.

"What?" Lin Yu's voice came, "Aren't you three here to find me? Since you're here, why not come up for a cup of tea?"

His casual tone carried a hint of mockery, as if he paid no heed to the seven or eight hundred people before him.

The three directors exchanged glances, cold sweat pouring more. This is no joke— they must find a way to retreat in one piece!