Chapter Thirty-One: Danger at the Disco (Part One)

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Caesar Palace, the largest and most popular disco in Deqing back in '98. Calling it a goldmine would be no exaggeration; within these walls, vice had blossomed into a full-fledged industry. There were those who sold drugs, those who managed the working girls, those who arranged gambling tables. Rumor had it the real owner behind the scenes was none other than Gui Nanchao, the kingpin of Deqing’s underworld.

Inside, the décor was lavish and meticulously designed. The lighting and projections were the best available in the country, and the sound system was imported straight from the Insect Nation. For all their flaws, those people had made a significant contribution to the world—a vast number of adult films flowed from their shores to the globe each year. A salute to the women of the Insect Nation. To Lanlan, Murakami, Iijima, Ozawa, Aoi, and all those who once fought or still fight on the front lines of the AV industry—men of Z Country thank you. You’ve worked hard.

The moment Lan Qian entered the disco, she regretted it. The air was thick and suffocating, the kind of place Zhuang Nan should never have set foot in—even if it was her own first time. Most of the men in here had dyed hair in every color of the rainbow, some with earrings, the sort you’d expect to find loitering on street corners. The women wore less and less, as if they might as well have been dancing naked. Lan Qian thought to herself, No wonder that brat was so desperate to come here; clearly, he’s up to no good.

A young girl dressed in a sailor suit, clearly a waitress, approached them. “Just the two of you? Please, this way.”

Guided by the waitress, they found a seat. She asked, “What would you like to drink?”

Lan Qian thought for a moment. “Two juices, please.”

The waitress hesitated. “No beer?”

Lan Qian frowned, her tone cold. “No, just juice.”

Awkwardly, the waitress went off to place their order. Zhuang Nan hadn’t said a word; he didn’t care what they drank—he was only interested in the place itself. Gui Nanchao, was it? Interesting.

“Zhuang Nan, you didn’t just bring me here to check out girls… Are you mad?”

“Silly, if you owned this place, you could watch girls every day.”

“Huh… that actually makes sense…”

Noticing Zhuang Nan’s eyes fixed on the dance floor, Lan Qian asked, “What are you looking at, little brother?”

Zhuang Nan was deep in conversation with his own mind, but Lan Qian’s words snapped him out of it. He smiled. “Sis, since we’re here, let’s have some fun.” He stood up as he spoke.

Lan Qian shook her head slightly. “No, it’s too loud here. And not very safe.”

Zhuang Nan grinned. “You’re a police officer and you’re scared of this? Come on, let’s go dance.” With that, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

Fortunately, the lights were dim; otherwise, Zhuang Nan would have seen Lan Qian’s face, red as an apple. She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was tight, so she had no choice but to follow him to the dance floor. The music was deafening, so Zhuang Nan had to raise his voice: “Sis, you have to move your hips, like this… Go big with the moves.”

Seeing him exaggerate his movements to the beat, Lan Qian could only imitate, albeit awkwardly at first. Yet, as she relaxed, she found herself enjoying it. Gradually, she got used to the chaos, letting her graceful body move freely to the music.

Zhuang Nan watched all this with a smile, happy for her. After a long day’s work, she deserved to let her nerves unwind. The women here couldn’t all be painted with the same brush, but most were caked in makeup. Lan Qian was a rare, luminous presence among this sea of gaudy beauty—her figure, her face, her aura, none of it could be matched by the ordinary crowd.

Under the dazzling lights and thundering music, Zhuang Nan found himself drifting behind Lan Qian, his hands resting lightly on her slender waist. She shivered slightly at first, but then relaxed, turning to look at him with a playful, enchanting glance before continuing to dance. Though she was older, she was still half a head shorter than Zhuang Nan. His breath brushed against her ear, and feeling the warmth of a man so close, Lan Qian became a little dazed, instinctively leaning her head back—her forehead coming to rest against his face.

Tightly pressed together, they moved with the music as one. Lan Qian could feel something behind her, pressing insistently against her, but she made no sound. She liked this—she liked Zhuang Nan’s brazen, ambiguous touch.

Feeling his own reaction below, and noting that she didn’t object or show any displeasure, Zhuang Nan grew bolder. His hands, wrapped around her waist, slipped under her shirt to gently stroke her soft belly. Lan Qian still did not resist; instead, she moved her body as if to make his touch easier. Zhuang Nan liked this—he liked her wild, seductive side.

Watching from a corner, Zhang Ning cursed under his breath. “Slut… So that’s what you like? I’ll make you mine, just you wait.” He signaled to four young men on the dance floor, who slowly made their way toward Zhuang Nan and Lan Qian.

“Zhuang Nan, danger’s coming…” came the warning—from the Super Brain.

“What is it?”

“The four young men at one o’clock—they’re coming for you,” the Super Brain explained.

Zhuang Nan turned his head. Sure enough, the four youths were staring their way. When he looked back at them, they quickly dropped their gazes, feigning distraction.

“Perfect, time to test my combat skills.”

“Zhuang Nan, there’s something else you should know. Someone’s been tailing you since you got in the car. It’s that cop who went to the holding cell with Lan Qian the other day…” the Brain added.

“How do you know that? And why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I told you, I’m not just a Super Brain, I’m a super computer. I can pick up all kinds of signals within a five-kilometer radius—including brainwaves. But you and Lan Qian were having such a good time, I didn’t want to interrupt. Besides, these are just small fry…” the Brain boasted.

Zhuang Nan shivered inwardly. “You never said you could read brainwaves…”

“Where’s Zhang Ning now?” Zhuang Nan asked.

“Second floor, left rear, by the railing,” the Brain replied.

“Thanks…” Zhang Ning, this trick is so old-fashioned…

Even with danger closing in, Zhuang Nan still held Lan Qian close, lost in the music.

Until—“Hey beautiful, you’re dancing hot tonight. Come have some fun with us.” Four men surrounded them, one on each side. The medium-built one reached out to grab Lan Qian as he spoke.

Zhuang Nan thought, Zhang Ning, are you so desperate for a woman that you’ve lost your mind? You really don’t know what I did in the holding cell… Idiot.

Situations like this were common in the disco. Sensing trouble, people around them quickly moved aside.

A sharp slap rang out as Lan Qian knocked the hand away. Immersed in the haze of her dance with Zhuang Nan, she was in no mood for interruptions—her instincts as a policewoman kicked in immediately.

“You filthy bitch, how dare you hit me?” The young man, his pride wounded, raised his hand as if to strike back, though he didn’t dare actually hit her—Zhang Ning had instructed them to focus on the boy. She was just a pretext.

Zhuang Nan was quick as lightning. With a sudden pull, he brought Lan Qian behind him, stepped forward, and caught the man’s descending wrist with his right hand.

Lan Qian was surprised. How could Zhuang Nan move so fast? She was confident she could have dodged, but catching his wrist? That was another matter. As someone trained, she knew that to intercept an attack required speed, reflexes, and strength. Clearly, Zhuang Nan was no amateur—perhaps not even inferior to her. But then she remembered how he’d broken Wang Yu’s bones—there had to be more to him.

This little brother is becoming more and more mysterious… And when a woman’s curiosity is piqued, things only get more dangerous.

“Let’s talk this out, no need for violence,” Zhuang Nan said coldly, gripping the young man’s wrist and glaring at him.

“Let go! What, you think you can just let this bitch hit me and get away with it?” the youth snapped, refusing to back down.

The three others tightened their encirclement.

Their commotion soon caught the attention of the club’s security. One of them sprinted to the manager’s office, bursting in. “Boss, Big Shrimp and his people are causing trouble on the floor!”

The man addressed as Boss rose from behind his desk—more than six feet tall, broad and muscular, his face set in hard lines. He could rival Long Kun in sheer presence.

“Damn it, Big Shrimp dares cause trouble in my club? Who’s with him?” the boss demanded.

“Boss, it’s a boy with a girl. Gotta admit, the girl’s quite something…”

“Bastard, I bet Big Shrimp’s got his eye on someone else’s girlfriend again. Let’s go. Have him settle this outside—I don’t want my business disrupted.” With that, he strode out, leading the way.

He was the chief among Gui Nanchao’s four lieutenants—the one entrusted to watch over Caesar Palace, the most profitable of all Gui’s establishments.

Big Shrimp, the man who had tried to hit Lan Qian, was a well-known player in the area. He ran a crew of a dozen or so and handled drug sales within Caesar Palace. Naturally, he had to share his profits with the club.

Gui Nanchao dealt in drugs, but as a kingpin, he only developed networks—he didn’t touch street-level deals himself. His product went to his distributors, who then supplied dealers like Big Shrimp. Direct retail was simply too risky.

Having called Lan Qian a filthy bitch not once but twice, Zhuang Nan tightened his grip on Big Shrimp’s wrist. Pain shot through the man, and his knees buckled. “Let go… please… it hurts!” he gasped, unable to stay upright.

Big Shrimp’s three companions, eyes fierce, brandished knives they’d pulled from their pockets. “Let our boss go, or we’ll mess you up,” they threatened. This, too, was Zhang Ning’s plan—to cripple Zhuang Nan if possible, or better yet, finish him off if anything went wrong.