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

The stream water reached Mike's waist; it was icy cold, but it was nothing compared to the chill in his heart.

He, codenamed "Ghost," a former SAS elite, was now like a fish pulled ashore, trapped tightly in a net of vines, unable to move.

Su Ming ignored his struggles and simply patted Mike's face gently with the back of the boning knife.

Where are the rest?

Mike, neck stiff and head held high, spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva: "Bastard, you won't get away with this..."

Su Ming didn't say anything more.

He simply extended his finger and gently pressed on a nerve node below Mike's collarbone.

"ah--!"

A piercing, tingling, and numb pain instantly shot through his entire body, a hundred times more painful than a broken bone. Mike broke out in a cold sweat, and his body convulsed uncontrollably.

This was a method his grandfather taught him when he was chopping wood; it was used to deal with people, and it hurt terribly.

"I'll ask you one more time, where are the rest of them?" Su Ming's voice was devoid of emotion.

"...In...in the east...valley...eight people..." Mike roared haltingly, utterly terrified. The methods this young man used were beyond his comprehension of combat.

Su Ming nodded and withdrew his hand. He cut off a corner of the vine net, just enough for Mike and his two men to break free, but the process would be painful and would take them half an hour.

"Tell your boss the game isn't over yet."

After saying that, Su Ming turned around and quickly disappeared into the dense forest on the shore.

Back in the tree hollow where Lin Yue had hidden, the girl was curled up, still unconscious. Su Ming checked her condition and, confirming she didn't have a fever, was slightly relieved.

He did not take her away immediately.

He knew that the remaining eight mercenaries, though leaderless, were still well-trained killing machines. Forcing their way in would be unwise.

Then, scare them away.

Su Ming took off his shirt, scooped up some wet mud from the stream, and smeared it evenly on his body. This wasn't for disguise, but to mimic the distinctive scent left behind by a pack of wild animals.

Then he began to set a trap.

He arrived at the outskirts of the valley where the mercenaries were gathering, but did not approach them. Instead, he busied himself on the main road leading to the outskirts.

He used a thick tree branch to drag dozens of seemingly random marks across the damp earth. The depth, width, and spacing of each mark were precisely calculated. From a distance, it looked as if dozens of people had just marched past in formation.

He then collected a large number of broad-leaved leaves and scattered them around the marks according to a specific pattern. Some leaves were crushed, some were turned over, and some were half-buried in the soil.

These details are meaningless to the average person. But to trace evidence experts, they represent a large, hastily organized team carrying heavy equipment.

After doing all this, Su Ming climbed to a high place, cupped his hand to his mouth, and once again let out that owl call that foreshadowed death.

"Coo...coo coo...coo..."

This time, the sounds no longer came from all directions, but from three different directions in the valley, forming a huge encirclement.

The eight mercenaries in the valley had long since panicked.

"The boss hasn't come back yet, what are we going to do?" a young team member asked, his voice trembling.

"Shut up! Stay alert!" the acting captain growled, scanning the surroundings with his thermal imaging camera, only to see a chaotic mess of signals.

Just then, a sentry responsible for perimeter reconnaissance came running back, his face filled with fear.

"No...no good! We're surrounded!"

"What?!" The acting captain grabbed his collar. "Explain yourself!"

"Footprints! Footprints everywhere! At least... at least a hundred people! They've surrounded us!"

Upon hearing this, everyone rushed to the edge of the valley.

Under the moonlight, the land "created" by Su Ming looked shocking. Countless messy footprints and broken vegetation silently told the story of a large army that had just passed through.

There was also a strange, wild scent in the air.

"Coo...coo coo..."

That damned bird call rang out again from the direction of the encirclement, as if it were the final signal before the attack.

The crowd's psychological defenses completely collapsed.

They were elite, but they were only twelve men. Facing an unknown force of a hundred men with unpredictable tactics, and in this damned jungle, they had no chance of winning.

"Retreat! Retreat now!!" the acting captain roared desperately. "Report the situation here to the boss! We've been ambushed! The enemy is a local armed force! There are hundreds of them!"

The eight mercenaries abandoned their wounded comrades and fled in panic back the way they came, as if a thousand troops were chasing them.

Deep in the jungle, Su Ming watched them flee in disarray, his eyes calm.

He picked up a fallen leaf and gently wiped the blood off the boning knife.

"Grandpa said that a true hunter doesn't necessarily have to do the work himself."

He muttered to himself, then turned around and carried the still-sleeping Lin Yue on his back.

It's time to go home.