He killed her father with his own hands, yet he expects her to call him Uncle.
On a rain-soaked night in Sham Shui Po, Hong Kong, Zhou Xiaxia crouches inside a coffin-like shipping container, listening to her pursuers' footsteps splash through the puddles.
Three years ago, Zhou Yinkun crushed her grandfather's windpipe at a family funeral.
Three years later, Southeast Asia's biggest drug lord is hunting her across borders, all because she stole the ledger that could get him hanged a hundred times over.
It is filled with irrefutable evidence that he killed his brother, trafficked drugs, rigged Thailand's elections, and bombed Chinese fighter jets.
"Did you flee to Hong Kong because you miss that cop boyfriend of yours?"
As fireworks explode over Disneyland, Zhou Yinkun presses his gun to her temple.
The next second, the red laser of an Interpol sniper locks onto the center of his brow.
She laughs through her tears. "Uncle, you lost this time."
But he has never been a man who loses.
