There were two dragons tattooed on his shoulders, but David Harris felt it would be more accurate to call them horned snakes. They looked like loaches, like snakes, like ribbonfish—anything but dragons. They had no form, no spirit. As soon as he revealed his tattoos, the others became noticeably more cautious when looking at him. In reality, those who truly made it to the top, who thrived in this world, would never get such tattoos. Only the low-level thugs did this, as if afraid others wouldn’t know they were bad guys. To put it bluntly, it was just a way to bolster their own courage.

“I want to take a look.” David Harris pressed down with his hand.

Pain shot through him. Blake White immediately felt excruciating pain in his arm, which went numb again, just like before. His mouth opened, but no sound came out, because David Harris had already pressed a hand over his mouth.

At the same time, David Harris raised his index finger to his lips: “Shh,” he whispered softly in his ear, “If you make a sound, I’ll dislocate your other arm as well.”

Blake White hadn’t expected this guy to be so fierce, but he wasn’t one to back down either. He raised his fist to hit David Harris, but David Harris pressed down on his other arm.

Just like before, but this time, with David Harris’s deliberate effort, it hurt even more. Blake White opened his mouth, but before he could make a sound, David Harris once again pressed his hand over his mouth, raised his index finger to his lips, and said, “Shh.”

David Harris spoke again: “Those two moves just now were only a warning, or you could consider them the fee for the treatment I just gave you. If you make another sound and disturb the others, I’ll tear off your ribbonfish tail.”

By “ribbonfish tail,” David Harris meant Blake White’s arm—the tails of the two dragons tattooed on his body wrapped around his arms, with both dragon heads on his chest.

At this moment, Blake White truly realized just how wrong he’d been to try and extort this doctor on a whim. This wasn’t a doctor at all—he was even fiercer than the toughest thug he’d ever met. The pain was so intense he wanted to scream, but couldn’t. Sweat dripped from his forehead. He nodded repeatedly—today, he’d really kicked an iron plate.

Almost no one in the back saw what happened, except for the driver, the bald man, and the girl in the miniskirt. The girl, who had been frowning before, now looked over excitedly. The bald man was quite surprised, while the driver seemed a bit scared.

He didn’t know that Blake White had been chased here from somewhere else, and he was worried that getting involved with such a thug would cause trouble. This guy could leave, but he himself would be in trouble, so he hesitated to start the bus.

“Huff... huff... huff...” After David Harris let go, Blake White gasped for breath, his arms hanging limply. It took a while for the pain to subside. Then he looked at David Harris: “Impressive, I didn’t expect to run into a real expert today. I, Blake White, admit defeat. But the green hills remain, and the rivers flow on. Leave your name—one day, I, Blake White, will be sure to repay your great kindness.”

The bald man shuddered at these words and quickly shot David Harris a look, meaning: don’t tell him your name. People like this are like sticky plasters—once they latch on, they’re hard to shake off, and even if you do, they’ll leave a mess. The driver looked on worriedly, while the girl in the miniskirt watched with excitement—this was more thrilling than anything on TV or in the movies. A doctor who was actually a martial arts master—so cool, so awesome! If her classmates found out... As she thought this, she quietly took out her phone.

David Harris noticed the driver still hadn’t started the bus, and was watching him and Blake White anxiously in the rearview mirror. He understood what the driver was worried about. He remembered that all his documents were in his bag—before he left, the housekeeper had reminded him that everything was packed. Seeing Blake White spouting empty words and the bus driver too worried to leave, David Harris had an idea. He casually pulled open the bag at his feet and took out his Level 1 police officer’s ID, a set of police uniform, and a hat, placing them all on Blake White’s lap.

“You guessed wrong. I’m not a doctor. Right now, I should be considered a police officer. Yes, that’s right—a police officer.” David Harris deliberately opened the Level 1 police officer’s ID and placed it on top of the hat so Blake White could see it clearly, and repeated himself for confirmation.

So cool! The girl in the miniskirt clenched her fists. The bald man was stunned for a moment, then touched the wound on his forehead and relaxed back into his seat.

Especially when the girl in the miniskirt saw David Harris take out the police uniform, she noticed the bag used to hold it—it was an LV limited edition bag set to be released next season, the very one she’d been waiting for. Yet here it was, casually used to hold a police uniform. After taking out the uniform, David Harris stuffed it back in like it was just a plastic bag, making the girl clench her fists in distress.

In fact, the reason David Harris stuffed it away so quickly was because he felt helpless. It seemed his grandfather really was tightening his purse strings. Otherwise, the housekeeper wouldn’t have used what others considered a luxury item—something he wouldn’t even use as a grocery bag—to pack his clothes.

At this moment, the airport shuttle bus finally started moving. The people in the back didn’t know what had happened, and no one made a sound. The atmosphere on the bus was tense, but the most uncomfortable of all was Blake White. His hands were useless, the muscles in his face kept twitching, sweat poured from his head, and though he wanted to speak, he couldn’t get a word out.

David Harris no longer paid any attention to Blake White, turning instead to look at the scenery flashing by outside. Shenzhen-Hong Kong City—so much had changed.

Chapter Four: Doctor-Police