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

The pipes were full of years of accumulated grease and grime.

Su Ming crawled forward, his clothes so black at the knees and elbows that their original color was unrecognizable. This greasy environment would probably have driven a germaphobe to the brink of collapse.

But Su Ming remained unfazed.

For a reward of 200 million, let alone the exhaust pipes, even if it were a septic tank today, Su Ming would swim to become a butterfly champion!

After climbing for about thirty meters, light appeared ahead.

The roar of the huge range hood masked his movements. Through the gaps in the grille, Su Ming could see the base's kitchen.

The kitchen was ridiculously large, easily 200 square meters. Dozens of large pots were steaming, and the cutting boards were piled high with freshly slaughtered raw meat, with blood flowing down the gutters and covering the floor.

Directly below, a fat man who looked to weigh 280 pounds was humming an unknown tune, wielding a cleaver and chopping ribs.

The fat man was wearing a white apron stained with blood and a ridiculously tall chef's hat. His face was full of fat, and he looked more like he was dismembering a body than cooking.

He is the head chef at the "Viper" base. It is said that he used to be a skilled knife user, but after retiring, he applied to be transferred to the kitchen because he loved to eat so much.

"This meat...this meat is fucking tender!"

The head chef chopped meat while stuffing a piece of raw meat into his mouth, chewing until his mouth was full of blood—a horrifying scene.

Su Ming frowned.

It wasn't because of the blood, but because the fat man hadn't washed his hands after chopping the meat before grabbing the salt shaker.

Poor hygiene habits, bad review.

Su Ming quietly removed the screws from the grille.

Just then, the head chef suddenly stopped what he was doing, his small eyes, squeezed into slits by the fat, snapping upwards: "Who?!"

As expected of a retired veteran mercenary, he is extremely vigilant.

Su Ming let go, and he fell down along with the grating panel.

"Thump!"

Su Ming landed steadily, bending his knees to absorb the force of the fall.

The head chef instantly raised his cleaver, his face filled with murderous intent: "Which team are you from? How did you get down from up there? Trying to steal some food?"

Su Ming stood up, dusted himself off, and adjusted his gas mask.

"I'm the new ventilation system maintenance worker," Su Ming said with a straight face, making up a lie. "The higher-ups sent me here to unclog the chimneys, saying that the fumes were too strong and were affecting satellite signal reception."

The head chef was taken aback.

Does it affect satellite signals?

Can cooking fumes do this?

His head, stuffed with fat, was clearly incapable of processing such complex information.

"Maintenance technician?" The head chef looked Su Ming up and down suspiciously. "Where's the pass? Where's the password?"

"The password is 'We're having braised pork today,'" Su Ming said casually, subtly taking two steps toward the stove.

"Bullshit! The password is clearly 'Snakes emerge from their holes!'" The head chef roared, swinging his cleaver down. "You dare lie to me? You want to become braised pork today!"

With a roar, the heavy cleaver whistled down! If this blow landed, it could cleave a person from the top of the head to their crotch!

Su Ming's eyes turned cold, and instead of retreating, he advanced!

He took a sudden step forward, his body tilting to the side at its limit, the blade almost grazing his nose!

"when!"

With a deafening clang of metal against metal, the head chef delivered a powerful and heavy blow, slamming his knife into the massive stainless steel soup pot behind Su Ming, sending sparks flying!

It's now!

Before the head chef could draw his knife, Su Ming lunged forward, his left hand flashing out like lightning, and firmly gripped the head chef's fat wrist!

"You?!" The head chef was shocked and tried to pull the knife back, but found that the other person's hand was welded to his wrist and wouldn't budge!

Su Ming didn't give him a chance to react at all. He grabbed a cast iron meat mallet covered with hideous protrusions from the chopping board next to him with his right hand!

"With such poor hygiene habits, you still want to treat me to braised pork?"

Su Ming sneered, swung the heavy meat mallet, and smashed it down hard on the head chef's mouth, which was agape in astonishment!

"Bang—!"

This isn't knocking, it's smashing!

With a sickening thud, the head chef's proud set of yellow teeth was instantly shattered, spurting out a mixture of blood and bits of flesh from his mouth! He staggered backward from the force of the impact, his mind going blank.

"Ugh—!"

The excruciating pain made him want to scream, but his mouth was already a mass of rotten flesh.

Su Ming, seizing the advantage, relentlessly twisted and pulled downwards with his left hand that was gripping Su Ming's wrist!

"Snap!"

The cracking sound of bones breaking!

The head chef lost his grip on the knife, and the cleaver clattered to the ground. Su Ming then kicked the head chef in the back of the knee, sending the nearly 300-pound mountain of meat crashing to his knees.

"What did you say was the password?"

Su Ming looked down at him, grabbed a large jar of coarse salt from the side, and poured it directly into the chef's bloodied and mangled mouth!

"Ugh! Ughhhhh—"

The head chef let out a roar like a wild beast being slaughtered. Half a jar of coarse salt was poured into his wounded mouth; the pain was a thousand times more terrifying than having his throat slit with a knife! His entire body was convulsing violently, and his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.

With a blank expression, Su Ming tossed aside the empty salt container. As the mountain of flesh writhed in agony, Su Ming circled behind him and raised the cast-iron meat hammer high in his hand.

Aim for the back of the head and smash it down hard!

"Thump!!"

It was a dull sound, like the sound of smashing a giant watermelon.

The head chef's struggles ceased, his massive body collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

"Forget about the braised pork, it's too salty."

Su Ming casually tossed the meat mallet, stained with blood and brains, onto the cutting board with a crisp "clang".

He looked around; it was meal preparation time, but the head chef was the only one in the area.

Excellent, heaven is on my side.

Su Ming quickly walked to the dozens of bags of flour piled up like a small mountain.

He pulled out a dagger and made a cut at the bottom of each bag of flour.

Then, he went to the stove and blocked all the pressure valves on the pressure cookers that were stewing meat, and then turned the heat up to the maximum.

"This fire is a bit too small."

Su Ming muttered to himself, then casually picked up a bucket of cooking oil and sprinkled it around the bags of flour.

After doing all this, he took one last look at the unconscious head chef on the ground.

"Although your hygiene habits are poor, given that you just tried to kill me..."

Su Ming picked up some chili powder from the table next to him and generously sprinkled it around the chef's nose and eyes.

"Here's a full-service spa treatment for you, you're welcome."

Su Ming opened the door to the cold storage in the back kitchen, went inside, and locked the door from the inside.

Five minutes later.

The exhaust fan in the back kitchen was still whirring.

Under the rotating exhaust fan, white powder kept leaking and rising from the ripped flour bag, quickly spreading in the air until the concentration reached a critical value.

The pressure cookers with their valves blocked were making a sickening hissing sound, and the pots were slightly deformed.

The flames on the stove licked at the extremely thick flour dust in the air.

Su Ming leaned against the cold storage door, listened to the sounds outside, and smiled.

"This big gift I sent you... its power... should be pretty good, right?"