Considering that he still had to go down the mountain, after finishing half a cup of erguotou, Er Guaizi left the wooden cabin slightly tipsy and went home.

Once home, he lay straight down on the bed and fell asleep, not waking until daylight.

Fortunately, he hadn’t drunk too much the night before, so he didn’t feel too uncomfortable. After waking up, he drank a large glass of water to ease the dryness in his mouth, washed his face a few times, changed his clothes, and hurried out the door.

He still remembered clearly that just last night, he had patted his chest and guaranteed that he would find the person Brother Eight was looking for within a week.

Since he had made that promise, he naturally had to fulfill it. Only by completing this task perfectly would he be able to take Brother Eight as his master and learn those formidable skills.

As the saying goes, snakes have snake paths, and rats have rat ways.

Someone like Er Guaizi was what people commonly referred to as a hooligan or small-time thug.

Er Guaizi was a local from Huihai New District. After graduating from junior high school, he had started hanging out with a rough crowd. During one fight, his leg was broken, and before it fully healed, he walked with a slight limp. Someone jokingly called him “Er Guaizi,” and the nickname stuck. After being used so often, no one even remembered his real name anymore—everyone just called him Er Guaizi.

He had been mixing around for nearly ten years. Although he hadn’t made a big name for himself, he was still fairly well-known in the Dongshanmen area. Many people knew of him. While he couldn’t compare to the big bosses above him, he was far better off than those below—neither outstanding nor insignificant, stuck in an awkward middle position.

He couldn’t do what real bosses did—waving a hand and having hordes of underlings rush to help. But if it was a matter of finding people to help out, it didn’t necessarily require spending much money. All he needed was to gather some people, go sing at a KTV, dance at a nightclub, and hire a few hostesses to accompany them—usually that was enough to get things done.

This was what was known as brotherhood and loyalty in the underworld—something that couldn’t be measured with money.

During the day, with a single phone call, he gathered quite a few brothers he usually got along with. After explaining the situation and promising that he would treat them to drinking, singing, and dancing every night afterward, the group readily agreed and dispersed.

Although Brother Eight had given Er Guaizi a photo, he had also warned him that the search had to be discreet. It couldn’t be done openly, and the target couldn’t be alerted, or it would be dangerous. So Er Guaizi made several copies of the photo, handed them out, and also reminded everyone to look secretly and not make a scene. As for the part about danger, he naturally didn’t mention it—otherwise, nine out of ten of them wouldn’t actually go looking.

As a fellow hooligan, Er Guaizi understood his peers’ nature perfectly. He knew exactly what to say and what not to say.

With the added incentive of free treats, these people were also willing to put in some effort.

Fortunately, Brother Eight had already narrowed down a general area, and said that the person they were looking for should be living in one of the residential complexes there. This further increased the precision. Within the area Brother Eight had marked, there were only four or five residential compounds in total. With twenty-four people split into several groups, all they had to do was find ways to enter the compounds, wander around more, or keep watch at the entrances. As long as the target went out, they would definitely run into him.

This was essentially relying on luck, but Er Guaizi had no other choice. His abilities were limited, and the constraints on searching were many. The only thing he could do was rely on luck.

That said, he believed his luck was pretty good. Otherwise, how could he have encountered an expert like Brother Eight?

On the first day, unsurprisingly, there were no results.

Still, Er Guaizi kept his word. That night, he led more than twenty people to a nightclub to dance, then went for skewers and drinks afterward, having a great time.

The second day continued the same way, with no results. At night, they switched venues and kept partying—drinking and eating late-night snacks. The group was loud and boisterous, and passersby could tell at a glance that they weren’t decent folk, so they deliberately detoured to avoid them.

Even Shen Hao, who ran into this group eating late-night snacks and drinking noisily for two consecutive days, couldn’t help but glance at them sideways, thinking to himself when this area had suddenly gained so many thugs.

In fact, there were usually plenty of them around, but it was rare for them to gather together like this. Most of the time, they moved in groups of three to five, each doing their own thing. This time, it was only because of Er Guaizi’s personal influence that he managed to gather them all to help search for someone.

The third day was the same.

Some of the thugs made their way into Mingzhu Residential Complex. After entering, they didn’t really do anything—just sat on benches near the entrance, observing the residents going in and out.

Mingzhu Residential Complex was a semi-open community. Most of the people living there were renters, with constant foot traffic and no particularly strict access control. When residents saw these obviously unsavory characters, all they could do was quietly warn each other and make sure to lock their doors well, to avoid being robbed.

The thugs were long used to such wary looks from outsiders and didn’t care in the slightest.

By the fourth day, Er Guaizi was starting to feel anxious, but there were still no clues. There was nothing he could do. That night, he still honored his promise and treated everyone to singing.

There were plenty of bars and KTVs near Haisha Street, and they chose randomly.

This time, they picked Nightingale Bar. A group of more than twenty people gathered noisily and headed toward the bar’s entrance. Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought they were coming to start a fight.

Fortunately, Er Guaizi had anticipated this. He had someone go ahead to notify the bar’s supervisor, to avoid misunderstandings or having the police called.

In fact, over the past few days, the bars and nightclubs along this street had already learned about this group hanging out nearby. Now that they heard the group had chosen their place, although they knew these people would be troublesome to deal with, the supervisor had no reason to refuse. He hurried out to receive them, even alerting the manager, who stood in the shadows observing the situation—ready to call the police immediately if a fight broke out.

With so many people, it counted as big business. The supervisor of Nightingale Bar personally received them, leading the noisy group upstairs, drawing the attention of many customers on the first floor along the way.

At this moment, Shen Hao was sitting at the bar, chatting with Sister Hong, who had just finished patrolling the second floor and come back to sit idly at the bar. He suddenly heard a commotion far louder than that of ordinary guests, and couldn’t help but stand up and look toward the stairway.

At a glance, he saw the bar’s supervisor leading the way. After scanning the people behind, his mouth twitched.

These past few days, every time he got off work, he would see this group at the late-night food stalls outside. Having seen them so often, a few faces had become familiar.

He had even thought to himself that if they didn’t leave soon, they might come to Nightingale Bar. Who would have thought that the moment the thought crossed his mind, they actually showed up?

Looking at the noisy bunch, Shen Hao felt his head ache. These kinds of thugs were the hardest to deal with. If they were even slightly dissatisfied, they would nitpick and stir up trouble, making everything extremely troublesome. Yet the bar had no reason to refuse them—doing so would be even more likely to cause conflict.

“Xiao Hao! Go notify Ali and the others. Have everyone who’s still available come out to receive the guests,” the supervisor called out as soon as he saw Shen Hao.

Shen Hao nodded. If the sky fell, the taller ones would hold it up. He was just a small-time waiter—there was no need for him to worry too much about this. So he withdrew his gaze, ran to the lounge, and notified the hostesses resting there.

There weren’t many hostesses left in the lounge—only six. Upon hearing the notice, they quickly stood up, tidied their dresses, and went out to receive the guests.

Meanwhile, just as Shen Hao left the bar, Zhu Honghong also stood up and walked out, helping the supervisor receive the guests.

Some people in this group had been to Nightingale Bar before. After all, Nightingale Bar was quite famous on this street—especially Sister Hong, a well-known beauty. Many customers came specifically because of her, and at times like this, she would usually handle reception personally.

When the group saw Sister Hong appear—wearing a cheongsam that accentuated her curvy figure, with shoulder-length wavy hair and a beauty mark at the corner of her mouth—their eyes immediately lit up. One by one, they swallowed hard, their gazes roaming up and down her body. Even if eyes couldn’t literally glow green, it still felt as though a pack of wolves had appeared.

Sister Hong had seen all kinds of scenes before. She completely ignored those blatant stares, treating them as if she hadn’t noticed, and said with a smile, “Welcome, bosses. We have one large private room that can accommodate twenty people, as well as two medium-sized rooms. Would you like to stay together, or split into two groups?”

“Together,” Er Guaizi said. Since he was the one treating everyone, he naturally spoke up.

“Alright, please follow me,” Sister Hong said with a warm smile, turning around to lead the group toward the large private room.

The equipment in the large private room was no different from that in smaller rooms. The only difference was the size—it was mainly used to receive parties of more than twenty people.

Such guests were actually quite rare. Most people came in groups of three to five, or seven or eight. Even groups of over ten were uncommon.

Groups of around ten would usually be arranged into medium-sized rooms. Only when the small and medium rooms were full would guests be placed into the large room.

The group followed behind Sister Hong in a grand procession, their shifty eyes fixed below her waist.

At this moment, Shen Hao happened to be walking back. Seeing this scene, he quickly moved aside to give way. Only after the guests, led by Sister Hong, turned the corner did he hurry back to his bar.

With so many guests, he was going to be very busy next. Fruit platters, beer, soft drinks—everything would need to be served, and in large quantities. He would probably have to make several trips just to get everything up.

Fortunately, the supervisor was aware of this and had already called up two waiters from downstairs to help. They had followed along earlier when Er Guaizi and the others were led upstairs and were now busy at the bar, cutting fruit and arranging platters.

Shen Hao greeted the two of them, then joined in the work.