Police officer Chen Shu

Chapter 932 The Power of Money (Part 2)
"Move! Move! Get the roadblocks down right now!"

The deputy platoon leader sat on the ground, his left leg limply twisted to the side, with traces of blood still visible on the ground around him, yet his commanding presence had returned.

In fact, there was no need for the officers to urge them. Now that the tense atmosphere had disappeared, the soldiers rolled up their sleeves and worked very hard, displaying unprecedented efficiency. In just over ten minutes, they had cleared away the heavy tires and barricades.

The platoon leader, who had been bullying the convoy and standing behind, was now serving the convoy members like a dog, afraid of offending these big spenders. If they didn't take his route on the return trip, that would be the most unjust thing in the world.

Even more outrageous was that the previously unruly veteran made a special trip to Company Commander Badulla, gave him a big thumbs up, opened his mouth wide, and exclaimed while spitting out words of praise: "Sir, I was blind, but yours is indeed the most elite mobile division in all of Myanmar!"

Bhadula and Lin Hua were so embarrassed that they didn't know whether to stand or sit, so they simply went back to the car.

Besides the driver, there were only two people in the military pickup truck: Badula and Lin Hua.

Badulla looked at the busy Dalalin soldiers outside and said with a contemptuous tone, "Director Lin, these people's faces change quite quickly."

Lin Hua didn't answer. His assessment of this kind of young person—who attended elite schools from a young age, was sent abroad for exchange studies when he grew up, and then returned to inherit the family business step by step—was simply: naive.

The two faces that people at the bottom of society can switch so easily are a testament to their helplessness and transformation under the heavy pressure of survival. But if we look down on them because of this, we will definitely suffer a great loss in the future.

"Do you know why you changed your tune so quickly?" The pickup truck started and slowly drove forward. Lin Hua watched the Dalalin army soldiers standing in rows on the side of the road, waving goodbye to their convoy.

"Heh, it's because they paid enough." Badulla blurted out without thinking, then paused for a few seconds before adding, "They give you both the Koreans and the carrots, the same old trick. The commander's shot was a deterrent, well, I'd say it was alright."

Lin Hua remained noncommittal, but he knew in his heart that these two points were part of the reason, but certainly not the most important reason.

A combat-ready unit, no matter how ragtag, would not remain indifferent if its commander were publicly insulted and shot.

But the result was stark: the soldiers of Dalalin lined up to see off their convoy, and even the deputy company commander, who had been shot in the leg by the commander, stood at the front of the line, leaning on a newly cut, thick tree branch as a crutch, and saw them off with a smile.

Ugh, I just can't figure it out.

Lin Hua glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the black SUV following behind them. His expression was complex. "Captain Badulla," he said, "we're both considered important figures in Myanmar, but you must understand that our power comes from our positions and the systems behind us. And that person..."

After a pause, Lin Hua licked his lips and continued, "The strength the commander just displayed almost entirely stemmed from himself. His formidable personal combat skills, his remarkably calm judgment, and his near-frightening composure. Ha, Captain Badura, if you were in his shoes, with so many guns pointed at you, would you dare to fire that shot?"

Yes, anyone in this tense situation, where both sides are facing off with guns and the slightest noise could cause an accidental discharge, would be quite remarkable to be able to speak coherently. I never expected that this police officer from China could do something like this.

Badulla nodded emphatically, deeply agreeing: "When I was studying and training in China, our instructors often joked with us. They said that when a real dragon crosses the river, it's so busy crossing that it doesn't care whether what's coiled up in the river is a snake or an insect. I didn't believe it before, thinking that if I went back to our jungle, no matter how fierce the instructors were, they might not be able to withstand a few blows from me."

"But after today's experience, I think the instructor was right. The commander's aura when he stood in front of everyone was so imposing; even if he wasn't a raptor, he must have been a Tyrannosaurus Rex!"

Lin Hua nodded slightly. He had no doubt about the commander's personal abilities, but he still couldn't figure out the reason behind the 180-degree change in attitude of the people in Dalalin later on.

As an experienced intelligence officer, Lin Hua felt somewhat uncomfortable.

On the other side, in a Chinese embassy official vehicle.

Chen Shu sat in the passenger seat, weighing the "Big Black Star" he had just received from the deputy company commander.

The "Big Black Star," officially known as the Type 54 pistol, is a pistol copied by China in the 50s. It is also called "Big Black Star" because of the unique black five-pointed star on the grip and the fact that the gun body is larger than other pistols.

"Book."

Chen Chuan, in his usual teasing tone, patted his now-empty backpack and chuckled, "Next time, could you please find someone else to do this 'spendthrift' job? My hands are getting sore. But how was the result? Wasn't it amazing? Look at the way those guys are looking at us, aren't they practically begging to lick our shoes?"

After saying that, Chen Chuan waited for a long time, but when no one responded, he said dejectedly, "I should have let Jiang Hai come along. You people are really boring."

Because their destination, Dalalin, was a war-torn region, Chen Shu firmly refused Jiang Hai's request to accompany him, leaving him at the Chinese Consulate in Mandalay. Wang Yan, who was driving, lightly applied the brakes, swerved around a small pothole, and once the SUV was back on track, she laughed, "Officer Chen, if you throw tens of millions of dollars into this, these lowly soldiers who only earn tens of thousands of yuan a month can't handle it! Their eyes are practically popping out of their sockets!"

The ethnic armed groups in Myanmar do pay their soldiers. Soldiers generally earn 20,000 to 30,000 kyats, while officers earn 30,000 to 100,000 kyats. Converted to Chinese yuan, soldiers earn a few hundred kyats, while the deputy company commander who was injured in the leg would earn at most a thousand or so yuan.

The half-bag backpack Chen Chuan left behind contained 60 million kyats in banknotes, which is roughly equivalent to 200,000 yuan. For the ethnic armed forces, this was indeed a huge sum of money.

"But will your unit reimburse these expenses?" Wang Yan turned the steering wheel half a turn to the left and asked casually. Although she knew that her colleagues in these coastal cities had much better treatment and benefits than those in the mainland, she was still quite surprised by the fact that they had just set out and had thrown out 200,000 RMB as a sum of money for the case.

Hearing this, Chen Chuan, who had been looking downcast, suddenly brightened up. He chuckled and took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, offering them to Ma Rongcheng, Zhu Yiba, and Xiao Wang who were sitting next to him. He also handed one to Wang Yan, who was driving.

Throughout the entire process, Chen Chuan just chuckled and didn't say a word, looking quite happy and smug.

Ma Rongcheng took the yellow cigarette, first carefully pinching the outside with his right fingertips. It was soft, and the tobacco was wrapped just right, not collapsing at all when pinched. Then he brought the cigarette to his nose and smelled it, and there was a faint wheat aroma.

"hiss"

The tobacco burned evenly without producing a single spark.

Ma Rongcheng couldn't bear to part with the taste, so he let the smoke swirl around in his lungs several times before finally opening his mouth and slowly exhaling. At that moment, he felt his shoulders relax instantly.

This cigarette tastes really good.

Ma Rongcheng smacked his lips and said in a comical tone, "Officer Wang, this is called the power of money, don't you understand? Hehe, ordinary police officers don't have this kind of power."

Set up checkpoints.

After the convoy left, the bustling scene suddenly became quiet.

The entire Dalalin troops stood by the roadside, unusually straight and orderly.

After the convoy drove out of sight, the deputy company commander slowly lowered his right hand, which had been swaying, and his eyes turned cold, showing no signs of being drunk.

The platoon leader and the veteran stood at the back, not daring to make a sound.

After a long silence, the deputy company commander finally spoke up and asked, "Do you know what we fear most when two countries are at war?"

The platoon leader recalled the deputy company commander's earlier assessment of the black SUV, especially the four Chinese characters on the vehicle: "Ceasefire Supervision." After a long pause, he finally remembered, "In times of war, envoys are not to be killed?"

After saying that, the platoon leader suddenly felt a little smug. Not every officer in the entire company could say that sentence smoothly, even though he had only just heard it from the deputy company commander.

The deputy company commander remained silent.

The platoon leader's explanation was more like a way out for him, giving him a barely acceptable excuse to back down from this unexpected conflict, but only he knew the real reason.

In Chinese culture, for someone to come and mediate or supervise, they must first have sufficient strength to subdue both sides simultaneously before they will come.

To put it simply, when China mediates, it means that a powerful figure comes along, slaps each of the two people fighting, and then makes them shake hands and make peace.

In any case, they came prepared to beat people up.

Thinking of this, the deputy platoon leader thankfully tiptoed on his injured left foot. Luckily, he could read Chinese. If he hadn't seen those four characters printed on the vehicle when he fell to the ground, he might have been made a fool of as a "chicken" to be killed for the "monkey".

But to be honest, when the Chinese policeman pointed his finger at his forehead, the deputy company commander did feel a chilling murderous aura. For a moment, he felt that if he didn't back down and surrender, he would really be killed.

"Return to camp."