Searching for someone in northern Myanmar, and you call that earning tuition fees?

In the kitchen ruins, twelve "Vulture" mercenaries, like insects encased in amber, were stuck to the ground in contorted poses.

The air was filled with a strange, indescribable stench, a mixture of burnt, sweet, and bloody smells.

The tent flap was violently ripped open with a "whoosh," and warlord Buck rushed out carrying a blood-dripping machete, followed by a group of heavily armed guards.

His eyes were bloodshot, like a lion ready to devour someone.

"Where are they? Where are those damn vultures? I'm going to twist their heads off and use them as chamber pots!" Buck roared, his knife flashing wildly.

Then, he saw the scene in the ruins.

The screaming sound effect got stuck in my throat.

Buck and his men were petrified. They had seen gunfights, artillery fire, and even feeding live people to hyenas, but they had never seen a battlefield like this... like a sugar painting exhibition.

"The antidote! Give me the antidote!" Captain "Scorpion," who was stuck at the front, saw Buck and, as if grasping at a straw, squeezed out a few words with all his might. The way he looked at Su Ming was like looking at a devil.

"It's noisy."

Su Ming frowned, didn't even look at him, and walked straight up to Buck.

Buck instinctively took a step back and gripped his machete tighter. He no longer saw Su Ming as a person, but as a ghost in human skin.

Su Ming pulled out the handgun he had previously seized from his waist, pointed it downwards, and handed it over.

Su Ming spoke calmly: "General, your kitchen was bombed, the cook ran away, and the mutton is burnt."

Buck listened blankly, his mind not quite processing what was happening.

"I'm quite particular about food," Su Ming said seriously. "You have to compensate me."

Buck: "Huh?"

His advisor, "Fox," standing behind him: "Huh?"

All the SS soldiers, including the "Vulture" members stuck to the ground: "Huh?"

We're here to be amazed by your supernatural abilities, and you're actually worried about your dinner?!

Was his brain circuit distorted by the impact of the shell?

"General, can we talk about my pass and the vehicle to the mining area now?" Su Ming patted the dust off his canvas bag.

"Here! All of it!" Buck snapped out of his daze, threw the machete on the ground, and waved his hand. "I'm not just giving you the car, I'm giving you the men! Fox, call my personal guards to escort my brothers to the mines!"

"No need." Su Ming refused decisively. "Too many people will make you a bigger target. Besides, your personal guard... if I may be frank, they'll only waste bullets and become sitting ducks, they're useless."

These words were insulting without using a single vulgar word, but Buck wasn't angry at all. Instead, he nodded repeatedly with an "I see" expression on his face: "Yes, yes, God always goes alone."

"Then... what should we do with these prisoners?" The fox strategist pointed cautiously at the immobilized "Scorpion" and the others on the ground. "Should we... let them taste the general's blade too?"

Su Ming shook his head: "We are civilized people. We cannot mistreat prisoners, let alone use any cruel methods."

After saying that, he walked up to the "Scorpion" and squatted down.

The "poisonous scorpion" shuddered in fright, fearing it would be turned into a "candied scorpion".

Su Ming simply pulled two grenades from his tactical vest, weighed them in his hand, and then put them in his own pocket. He then took his military dagger and a few bars of chocolate.

"This is compensation." Su Ming stood up, looked at Buck, and said, "I want that pickup truck with the heavy machine gun, and fill it up with gas."

Buck readily agreed, "No problem!"

Su Ming picked up the canvas bag full of odds and ends, but stopped at the door.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out three slightly deformed packets of Weilong spicy strips, and slapped them into Buck's hand.

"This is a testament to our friendship," Su Ming said earnestly. "I will always remember this friendship."

Buck looked at the bright red packaging bag in his hand, and his eyes even became a little moist.

In this war-torn land of deceit and treachery, someone actually used such precious "strategic resources" to exchange for friendship.

This is a friendship that transcends life and death!

"Brother!" Buck patted Su Ming's shoulder heavily. "From now on in Tanzania, just say my name, Buck, and it'll work!"

Su Ming smiled but didn't say anything.

Su Ming picked up his canvas bag and walked towards the pickup truck that was already running. He stopped as he passed his guide, Sam, who was still shivering behind the rice bin.

"Let's go, old buddy. I'll get lonely driving alone."

Sam shook his head vigorously: "No, no, no, Your Excellency, I... I have an eighty-year-old mother to care for..."

"If you say another word, I'll turn you into a candied Sam's Club."

Sam jolted awake and scrambled toward the passenger seat, moving faster than a rabbit.

Su Ming opened the car door, got into the driver's seat, and before leaving, he rolled down the window, as if he had remembered something.

"By the way," he added to the "Vulture" mercenaries in the ruins, "if you want to get rid of those sugars, don't use boiling water, it'll scald off a layer of skin. Try using ice cubes, physical cooling, thermal expansion and contraction, they'll crumble with a tap."

After saying that, he stepped on the gas, and the pickup truck kicked up a cloud of dust and disappeared into the night.

In the kitchen, Scorpion and his team members collectively broke down upon hearing this "friendly reminder."

Fuck!

This is Africa! Tanzania! Near the equator!

Where are we supposed to find ice for you?!

"Fuck! A devil! This is a devil!" Scorpion roared desperately, his voice muffled by the sugar coating at the corner of his mouth.

"General..." The fox-like strategist looked in the direction Su Ming had left, his voice still trembling, "This... what exactly is the background of this Easterner? What kind of witchcraft is that brown thing?"

General Buck did not answer.

He carefully took out the packet of spicy strips that Su Ming had left behind from his pocket and tore it open.

A cheap but overpowering industrial fragrance instantly overpowered the burnt smell in the kitchen.

Buck pulled out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, closed his eyes, and looked completely absorbed.

Don't ask.

"Just ask, we and the God of War are... half-brothers."

"Spicy strips, so delicious!"

In the pickup truck, Su Ming glanced at the receding campsite through the rearview mirror and sighed.

"How come this part-time job is starting to feel more and more like my main job?"