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墨書 Inktalez
It seemed that my harsh words had put a lot of psychological pressure on the two of them. The M16 assault rifle bounced a few times on the ground, lying between the three of us, yet no one went to pick it up, and no one spoke. The silence was absurd, almost like a scene from an action movie where the next moment should involve three people lunging for the rifle, leading to a life-and-death struggle.
Fatty reacted quickly; after a brief silence, he said, "I bought it for self-defense to cross the border."
That was too far-fetched. Buying an M16 for self-defense? Were they crossing the border or heading to the battlefield? I shot him a disdainful glance.
Fatty's expression didn't change much, but he looked slightly embarrassed. "Alright, I got it from Hu Lao Liu. After I finished, I just slipped away and didn’t get involved in their mess. I couldn’t bear to throw the gun away, so I kept it with me."
"I’m Fatty. I don’t care how you got here; this journey isn’t short, right? You dragged an M16 across half of Myanmar—what for? Aren't you afraid of getting caught along the way?" I couldn’t help but exclaim.
"If we’re going to Laos, we can’t go unarmed," Fatty replied.
"We're about to cross back into our country. Who said anything about going to Laos?" I retorted angrily.
Suddenly, I had a feeling that this place was very close to Laos. Fatty and Da Zhang had chosen this meeting point—was it premeditated? Damn it, could they be hiding something from me? The more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed.
"Do you remember the village where Xiao Guolin stayed in Dongxing? My Big Deal was finalized near there, coinciding with Xiao Guolin's stay. Do you think that's just a coincidence?" Fatty asked me.
I looked at Fatty; his expression was serious. If it were someone else facing me with such sincerity, I would probably believe them. But who was Fatty? Back in school, his nickname was 'Agent.' If I tried to read his expression for truthfulness, he would definitely sell me out.
I needed to maintain my stance clearly and not give him any chance to twist my words. "Xiao Guolin went to Dongxing alone; that village doesn’t even have a road. What kind of Big Deal could be finalized there? Even if you gave him a box of weapons, he wouldn’t be able to get anything out of it. Be honest about what you're thinking; don’t drag Xiao Guolin into this. But let me make it clear: returning home is our main goal. Unless your father is in Laos, I’ll accompany you to meet him. Other matters are off the table; if things go south, I won’t take responsibility—first, we go home. You know we still have things to do."
Fatty cursed under his breath. Clearly, my words struck a nerve. He stepped closer to me, his eyes wide like copper bells. Da Zhang watched nervously from the side and reached out to tug at Fatty.
I understood Fatty's intimidation tactics better than Da Zhang did. I pointed at Da Zhang and said, "No need to hold him back; I want to see what he can do."
Seeing that his threats had no effect, Fatty shrugged. "I'm not lying to you. I know these Vietnamese well; I've dealt with them before. They specialize in supplying arms to military organizations in the Golden Triangle. Also, your understanding of the Big Deal is off."
Fatty pulled out a chair and sat down. Standing like this created a tense atmosphere, so I grabbed a chair and sat across from him, with the 16 at our feet. Fatty seemed uncomfortable sitting there; he shifted a few times before reaching behind him to pull out two magazines, finally settling down.
"Here's the deal: I'll share the intelligence I've gathered, and you can decide whether to take action. After all, this matter doesn't concern me; I'm just trying to help you." Fatty held one magazine in his hand and gestured with his other hand. "The Big Deal these Vietnamese are talking about is primarily one type: large-scale arms transactions. No matter the transaction amount, the volume is always significant. You understand that the transaction amount and volume aren't necessarily proportional, right? For example, this."
Fatty kicked the 16 on the ground and continued, "Its black market price ranges from three thousand to five thousand USD for one unit, while an AK-47 costs less than a hundred USD each. A box of AK-47s can't match the price of one 16. The essence of this Big Deal is quantity. Then there's another type of Big Deal where the number of weapons isn't large, but the monetary value is high. This kind of business involves some advanced weaponry. To give you a similar example: the first type of Big Deal involves AK-47s, while the second involves 16s. Do you understand now? Of course, the 16 isn't exactly cutting-edge weaponry.
"Besides that, there's yet another type of Big Deal. It's neither about large quantities of arms nor high monetary amounts; instead, it's about significant profit margins. This transaction might involve just one piece of equipment, but its profit could surpass that of a whole batch of AK-47s. Such deals likely involve secret weapons from certain countries or weapons of mass destruction—things that ordinary people can't access or dare to touch. I suspect Xiao Guolin's target is this if this Big Deal is related to him."
Initially, I planned to wait until he finished and then pour cold water on his ideas with a blunt rejection. However, after Fatty finished speaking, I hesitated. I lacked the courage to immediately dismiss him; his words—especially the last one—shocked me deeply. The purpose behind Xiao Guolin's entry into Dongxing became increasingly elusive.
"How can you be sure this transaction is related to Xiao Guolin?" After pondering for a moment, I cautiously asked.
"How can I be sure?" Fatty replied irritably. "The person who provided me with this information isn't part of those making the deal. He only knows there was a Big Deal there; he wouldn't know specifics about what was traded or who was involved. In this line of work, people might leak hints but never details—you understand that, right?"
I stared at Fatty, my hands gripping the armrests of the bamboo chair tightly in anxiety. It was hard to make a decision; I was equally worried about Xiao Ting's safety. Since entering Myanmar, I hadn't been in contact with Jack and the others, and now my phone was broken—making communication impossible. Should I stay or leave? My mind was in turmoil.
"The timing of Xiao Guolin's appearance in Dongxing coincides with that transaction; that's my only evidence so far." Fatty noticed my dilemma and seemed to be helping me make up my mind: "Those Vietnamese often operate in Laos; if we find them, we can determine whether Xiao Guolin was involved in their transactions and what they were trading."
I withdrew my gaze from Fatty and leaned back against my chair, closing my eyes as I tried to think things through carefully.
"You really want to go to Laos. Why?" I suddenly opened my eyes and asked Fatty. "Qiangzi, I want to help you. I know this matter has been tormenting you. I can't just watch and do nothing." There was water in Fatty's eyes. "Human words." "I want to help Xiao Ting." "Fuck." I cursed.
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