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

Blood Axe led the way with a cold face.

Two rows of mercenaries, guns at the ready, parted to make way for the three men walking through the middle.

The abandoned mine warehouse is located on the west side of the fortress. As you walk through the yard, the ground is unpaved and dusty.

"Mr. Bloodaxe," Su Ming's calm voice rang out in the quiet courtyard, "The dust pollution here has caused potential damage to my health. Medical examination and emotional distress compensation: $20,000. Your current debt is $4.15 million. Now, I need to confirm the integrity of my assets."

Blood Axe, who was walking ahead, paused, but did not turn around.

His adjutant was so angry that he drew his gun, but Blood Axe grabbed it and held it down.

"Calm down," Blood Axe hissed through gritted teeth. "He's trying to provoke us; it's a classic case of staged an accident."

He sneered inwardly, knowing that the outer perimeter troops must already be in position.

He turned to Su Ming and said, "I don't settle accounts with the dead. You can inspect the goods, but once you've seen the person, you must immediately transfer the payment back home."

Several mercenaries stepped forward and pushed open the rusty iron door of the warehouse.

A pungent, sour smell, a mixture of engine oil and sweat, wafted towards me.

The warehouse was dimly lit. More than thirty Chinese people dressed in blue overalls huddled in a corner. They looked haggard, their clothes covered in grease and dust.

The leader was a middle-aged man in his fifties with a receding hairline, clutching a large adjustable wrench tightly in his hand. He was Lao Gao, the chief engineer of the construction team.

Hearing the iron gate rattle, Lao Gao jumped up and held a wrench across his chest. The engineers behind him also grabbed iron bars and bricks.

"Don't come any closer!" Old Gao roared. "We Chinese are tough! We have no money, but we'll take your life!"

Blood Axe didn't go inside. He stood at the doorway and tilted his head slightly inward.

Su Ming, Li Changfeng, and Lao Zhao crossed the iron gate and entered the warehouse.

Old Gao held up the wrench and took a closer look.

Instead of a black man carrying a gun, three Asian men entered.

An elderly man dressed in the uniform of a typical domestic residential community security guard had a Jiangnan University badge pinned to his chest.

A young man carrying a backpack, who looked like he hadn't even graduated from university.

There were no fully armed special forces soldiers. No diplomatic officials. No tanks or armored vehicles.

Old Gao was stunned. He rubbed his eyes hard and looked again. Sure enough, it was a security guard uniform, Jiangda University badge, and a backpack.

"Clang!"

The large wrench fell to the ground, sparks flying.

Old Gao's legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground. He covered his face with his hands and cried out in despair, his voice trembling with sobs.

"It's over...it's all over..." Old Gao covered his face with his hands, wailing in despair, his voice trembling with sobs, "You're the only ones they sent? One student...two old men? What did we do wrong to deserve sending you to your deaths!"

Old Gao pounded the ground with his fists, roaring in a hoarse voice, "Why?! Heaven is going to kill me!"

The thirty-odd engineers behind them were completely dumbfounded.

A young technician threw down the half-brick he was holding, squatted on the ground, and scratched his head: "This is terrible! It's bad enough that we're being detained, but how did the school security guard get dragged into this too?"

Old Zhao's face darkened. He strode up to Old Gao.

"Stop crying! Who do you think you are?" Old Zhao puffed out his chest, pointing to the school badge on his chest. "I'm the chief instructor of the security department at Jiangnan University! Back when I was wielding a machine gun in the peacekeeping forces, you guys were still wearing open-crotch pants! Stand up! What kind of image does a Chinese person have, crying and wailing like this!"

Su Ming stepped forward and looked around: "It's alright, it's good that everyone is okay."

After speaking, he turned around, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the warehouse, and looked directly at Blood Axe at the door. He calmly announced the final figure: "Inspection complete. Total: four million five hundred and fifty thousand US dollars. Now, settle the account."

The warehouse was deathly silent.

Old Gao sat on the ground, his mouth wide open.

The thirty-odd engineers looked at each other in bewilderment.

The young technician tugged at Lao Gao's sleeve and lowered his voice: "Engineer Gao, has this student gone mad from studying too much? Is he trying to collect a debt from a warlord with an AK-47?"

Outside.

The adjutant swallowed hard and turned to look at Blood Axe.

The scars on Blood Axe's face were red.

He had been holding back for a long time.

From the moment he stepped outside, this schoolboy from China kept calculating his debts. He didn't ask for anyone's help or mention the troops outside; he was convinced that the boy owed him money.

Blood Axe even began to doubt whether he had really gone bankrupt.

But that's impossible. He's a warlord; he has guns.

"You're messing with me?" Blood Axe spat out the two words through gritted teeth.

"I don't have time for pointless communication with you." Su Ming looked at him. "Settle the bill, or hand over camp management for debt restructuring. You choose."

"I'll choose your grandpa!" Blood Axe suddenly drew his pistol from his waist, pointing the muzzle directly at Su Ming.

"Boss! Don't fall for it!" the adjutant shouted in terror, grabbing Blood Axe's arm. "He's trying to force us to make the first move! It's a trap!"

"Shut up! I get it!" Blood Axe roared, his scarred face contorted with rage. "This isn't some kind of psychological warfare! They sent a real madman! What special forces unit would use a mentally ill person as a negotiator? They're just messing with me! They're humiliating me!"

The engineers in the warehouse shrank back in fright.

Old Gao scrambled to his feet and grabbed the wrench from the ground again.

Li Changfeng shifted his left foot half an inch outward, lowering his center of gravity.

Old Zhao took a deep breath and slowly clenched his fists.

Blood Axe's facial muscles twitched violently. The veins on his forehead bulged.

He slowly raised his right hand, and the dozen or so machine gunners behind him simultaneously pulled the trigger.