Zhang finished reading the safe house specs and immediately picked his services.
First: full-house reinforcement. His apartment's walls, ceiling, and floor—all replaced with 200mm-thick aerospace alloy. Lighter than steel, ten times stronger. Perfect for embedding in his building, no weight overload.
Windows: top-tier bulletproof glass.
Ventilation: air filtration. No harmful gases getting in.
Surveillance: full coverage, inside and out.
Doors: bank-vault grade. Small bombs won't blast them open.
In short, Zhang's goal: a fortress no one can breach. A metal turtle.
He handed the tablet to Wu Huairen.
Wu's eyes went wide. "A 120㎡ place, built like a steel drum."
"Add weapons, and this is a proper fortress," Wu muttered.
Zhang's eyes lit up. "You know fortresses?"
Wu grinned. "I was a mercenary overseas. Know my way around weapons."
A thought struck Zhang. He leaned in, voice low: "Can you get me a gun?"
Wu's face turned serious. "Mr. Zhang, private firearms are illegal in Hua."
Zhang played desperate: "I messed with some gangsters. They've got guns. I need to defend myself. Can't just hide and take a beating."
Wu chuckled. "Sorry, we're legit. Can't help." But his eyes said otherwise—he could get guns, just didn't want the trouble.
Zhang sighed. "My safe house project is over ¥8 million. If something happens to me, your company's reputation takes a hit."
He locked eyes with Wu. "I just need something to defend myself. Help me, and I won't short you."
Wu frowned, weighing it. He had connections, but didn't know Zhang. "Go home. I'll ask around. Let you know."
Zhang didn't push. He signed the contract, paid a ¥1 million deposit. The rest? He'd never pay.
He left Zhanlong Security.
Housing sorted.
Next, Zhang called Liu Yang, a contact who ran a hunting ranch in Tianhai. Liu's place covered hundreds of acres, stocked with harmless animals for recreational hunting. He had legal crossbows, compound bows, air rifles.
Zhang had visited before, so he had Liu's number. He called, offered a premium for a bulk order.
Liu, a businessman who'd asked favors from Zhang before, agreed easily. "Zhang bro, why so many weapons? These are for hunting or hobby—don't use them to hurt people!" He smiled, cautious.
Zhang laughed. "Planning a trip to an African safari with friends. Need gear."
Liu whistled. "You play hard! Watch out for lions and hyenas!"
"Sure. When can I pick them up?"
"Got them ready. Come anytime."
Zhang didn't delay. He drove to the ranch and loaded up: five steel crossbows, three high-end compound bows, 300 arrows each, and two Damascus steel hunting knives—tough, sharp, hard to break. Perfect for self-defense… or hacking people.
The trunk was full. Zhang felt safe.
He drove home. All legal, plus his hunting license—no police trouble.
By dusk, he was at Haidilao, eating hotpot alone. Thinking he'd have to make his own soon, he ordered 10,000 hotpot bases.
The staff were stunned, thinking he was a rival sabotaging them. But Haidilao's service held. The manager asked, then took the order—cash only.
Zhang paid over ¥1 million on the spot. The manager was ecstatic, throwing in 500 free bases.