When had Kwan Ka-wai ever experienced anything like this in her life?
She came from a well-off family, and both her parents were high earners.
Her own uncle was, moreover, the current Customs Commissioner.
It was only because Hong Kong Island was predominantly Chinese that she had taken her mother's surname and been given the Chinese name Kwan Ka-wai.
Since joining Customs, she had enjoyed her uncle's support at the top, her superiors' care in the middle, and her subordinates' obedience below.
Everything had always gone smoothly for Kwan Ka-wai. Today, she suffered the first setback of her life-and it was a slap in the face in public.
Kwan Ka-wai clutched her rapidly reddening, swelling cheek, standing utterly dumbstruck.
Zhou Quan did not care in the slightest about Kwan Ka-wai's psychological state. He looked indifferently at the idiot before him.
"Your attitude just now was enough to constitute insulting a superior!"
"Is this how Customs taught you to do your job?"
"With a team of just seven, you dared recklessly exchange fire with drug traffickers?"
"And with a liability like you along, too? Did you think you were making a movie?"
"One of your Customs colleagues is dead and two are seriously wounded, and instead of getting them treatment, you're still here throwing a fit?"
Zhou Quan's successive remarks stabbed straight into Kwan Ka-wai's heart like sharp blades.
His men might have acted swiftly and decisively without suffering a single casualty.
But the situation for that team of Customs plainclothes officers was entirely different.
They had dared take on a group of heavily armed drug traffickers with Point Three-Eight revolvers. Did they really think every one of them was Sergeant Zhou?
Those five male Customs plainclothes officers had paid a bloody, agonizing price for their recklessness and for the idiot