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

In the quicksand pit, two Black Fox mercenaries were still desperately digging at the sand, but the thing seemed to be alive, already reaching above their waists, and the icy, suffocating feeling made them shudder.

Zhao Gang led his men over, not bothering to waste any words. They knocked each man unconscious with a rifle butt, then used hemp rope to pull them out like radishes.

"Mr. Su, it's done." Zhao Gang threw the two unconscious prisoners to the ground, his gaze towards Su Ming having changed from awe to fanaticism.

That was so fucking satisfying!

He had been a special forces soldier for so many years and had carried out countless capture missions. Every single one of them was fraught with gunfire and danger. But today, he felt like a primary school student copying homework from a top student. He hadn't even figured out how the enemy fell before the battle was over.

This feeling... is so addictive!

"Don't rush, this is just an appetizer."

Su Ming crouched down and began searching the two prisoners, quickly finding a military walkie-talkie.

He pressed the call button, cleared his throat, and instantly switched to a perfect London accent in English: "Calling Wild Wolf, please answer if you receive this."

After a few seconds of silence on the other end of the walkie-talkie, a hoarse and wary voice rang out: "Who are you? Where are Scorpion and Jackal?"

"Them..." Su Ming chuckled lightly, "They've discovered something interesting and are having a deep conversation with the Duke of Zhou (a figure in Chinese mythology associated with dreams). Who I am isn't important; what's important is that I want to talk to your person in charge."

"You fucking want to die!" the other person roared.

"Don't be so irritable," Su Ming said casually. "You have ten minutes to send someone who can make decisions. Otherwise, I'll hang these two heads on the roof of the car as road signs."

After saying that, he hung up the walkie-talkie.

"Mr. Su, what are you doing...?" Zhao Gang exclaimed in shock, "You lured them here? They'll definitely send a large force!"

"Otherwise what?" Su Ming retorted. "Are we supposed to wait until they discover the patrol team has lost contact, then mobilize the entire force and chase us like rabbits?"

"But we only have this many people..."

"Who said it's just us?" Su Ming pointed to his head, then to the endless sea of ​​sand around him. "Tonight, everything here is my soldier."

He pulled out the last few "junk items" from the snakeskin bag—a few small mirrors, a roll of fishing line, and a bunch of small light bulbs salvaged from an abandoned radio.

Zhao Gang was completely baffled.

What kind of tactic is this? Are they trying to blind the enemy with a mirror reflection? That's so...retro!

Su Ming did not explain. He told Zhao Gang and the others to take Gu Changfeng and the prisoners to a sand dune a hundred meters away and hide there. He then busied himself around the "Warrior" off-road vehicle.

He fixed the small mirror to several bamboo strips with fishing line, inserted it into the sand, and adjusted the angle. He then tinkered with the small light bulbs, copper wires, and magnets, creating an extremely rudimentary device that could emit a faint light and sound.

Under the cover of night, he set up the trap with steady and efficient movements.

……

Ten minutes later.

On the distant ridge of the sand dunes, a dozen or so dark figures appeared. They spread out in combat formation, each carrying a tactical flashlight attached to their rifle, and a dozen blinding beams of light swept back and forth in the darkness, searching for any suspicious targets.

"Damn it, they really came!" Zhao Gang lay on the sand dune, his heart in his throat.

His bodyguards were so nervous that their palms were sweating and they gripped their guns tightly.

"Attention everyone! The target is near that wrecked car!" Black Fox's commander, a burly man codenamed "Butcher," ordered through his throat microphone, "Free fire! Turn them into sieves!"

"Da da da da da—!"

A burst of gunfire suddenly erupted. Dozens of tongues of fire spat out as countless bullets roared toward the lone "Warrior" vehicle.

The bullets struck the car, sending up dazzling sparks.

The scene unfolding before our eyes was eerie.

Just as the gunshot rang out, seven or eight points of light suddenly appeared on the sand around the wrecked car! The points of light flickered and moved constantly, as if seven or eight people were returning fire with guns!

"Fuck! An ambush! Left flank! Three o'clock!"

"No! There are some on the right too! There are a lot of them!"

The Black Fox mercenaries were instantly thrown into chaos. Through their night-vision goggles, they saw ghostly flickering lights all around, making it impossible to discern how many enemies there were or where they were hiding!

"Take cover! Take cover now!" the butcher roared, and was the first to drop to the ground.

The gunfire suddenly subsided.

But as soon as they stopped firing, the eerie muzzle flashes disappeared. The battlefield became eerily quiet again, with only the sound of the wind.

"What happened? Where is everyone?" a mercenary asked nervously.

The butcher stared intently ahead, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

This is fucking bizarre! The enemy's firing positions are erratic and completely defy battlefield logic. This isn't an ambush; this is like encountering a ghost!

Unbeknownst to him, Zhao Gang, a hundred meters away, was already dumbfounded.

He finally understood!

Those so-called "muzzle flashes" were simply illusions created by Su Ming using mirrors to reflect the beams of their own tactical flashlights! And those moving spots of light were just mirrors being moved by the wind!

As for those sporadic "retaliation" shots, they were just a few small firecrackers he lit using a detonator he made from a radio battery!

A middle school physics lesson on the principle of optical reflection, plus a little bit of knowledge about electromagnetic induction.

Su Ming alone managed to make this elite squad mistakenly believe that they were being surrounded and annihilated by a well-equipped special forces unit!

This is... a personal prison!

"Mr. Su... who exactly are you?" Zhao Gang murmured to himself, his voice trembling.

He served as a special forces soldier for over a decade, but tonight his worldview was shattered by a freshman college student who smashed it with a few broken mirrors.

"I?"

Su Ming thought for a moment:

"Jiangnan University, Department of Finance, freshman, seeking part-time job during summer vacation."

"By the way..."

"Help the country clean up its garbage."