Yoke of the Dragon

The rain ceased at midnight, leaving the air even more humid and stifling. In the streets of Bangkok, Thailand, at ten o’clock at night, there was still an hour and a half until curfew, but the roads were almost deserted. Inside the mansion at 23 Watercolor Bay on Sukhumvit Road, the sharp light of cold white crystal chandeliers illuminated the entire hall. Suddenly, a loud bang echoed as the door of the study on the second floor was forcefully flung open. A bald Thai man rushed out, his obese body struggling, his face filled with terror, eyes swollen, veins bulging. He clutched a g*n in his hand, firing two frantic shots behind him, but lost his balance and tumbled down the stairs. Two seconds later, the door opened again, and a tall figure emerged. Dressed in black clothes and pants, with short, sharp hair, he toyed with a military knife in his hand. His steps were unhurried, the black military boots striking the hardwood floor with a rhythmic thud, like the death knell of a grim reaper. The mansion’s decor was lavish, with expensive oil paintings adorning the walls and thick Persian carpets covering the floors. A faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air. “Barut, please, don’t kill me. I’ll give you all the gold, I don’t want a single penny, it’s all yours.” The man on the floor, his face covered in blood, seemed oblivious to his injuries. He turned around, pressing his hands together in a prayer gesture at his nose, bowing deeply, begging the young man exuding a menacing aura to spare his life.The man lay sprawled on the floor, his face covered in blood, yet he seemed oblivious to it. He turned around, pressing his hands together in a prayer gesture at his nose, bowing deeply as he begged the approaching young man, whose presence exuded a chilling menace, to spare his life. The black military boots finally stopped in front of him. The man on the ground didn’t dare to breathe loudly. From the young man’s cold and indifferent throat came two words, squeezed out with icy detachment, “Is that so?” “Y-yes… Twelve chests of gold, buried under the osmanthus tree in the backyard. Not a single piece is missing…” “Not enough.” The words came again from above, cold and light, with a hint of casual indifference. The man, trembling like a leaf, was stunned for two seconds. He looked up, meeting the young man’s cold eyes. “I really only… only got these… The rest were taken by the second son of the Bai family…” “What should I do then?” The young man crouched down, lifting the man’s chubby chin with the cold tip of his military knife. “Twelve chests of gold are only enough to buy your life, not the lives of your three wives and two children in your Thai villa.” “W-what do you mean?” The man, his face smeared with blood, was rigid with fear. His lips had turned blue, and he gritted his teeth. “Barut, I’m still serving in the Northern Defense Force. My family is protected by the military. You… you dare…” “Hmph!” The young man sneered, his lips curling into a faint smile. His narrow eyes flashed with intense killing intent, and his cold voice emerged from his throat, “Burmese soldiers never protect the families of traitors who flee the country.”The young man’s eyes flashed with a hint of ruthlessness, causing the man’s heart to tighten and his breath to catch. This person standing before him, he had encountered a few times at the Northern Defense Force headquarters in Tachileik. He was the soul of the Northern Alliance Army, rumored to have lost his parents in a brutal d**g dealer shootout. At the age of eight, he had already killed someone with a g*n. Other war orphans either died of illness or starvation, were controlled by d**g dealers and turned into child soldiers, or were locked in octagonal cages, forced to fight each other like animals to survive. But he had killed the d**g dealer guards, escaped with two companions, and was found squatting beside a corpse, cutting off flesh to eat. Throughout the Northern Defense Force, the Alliance Army, and even the Shan State Army, everyone knew the name “Evil Dragon Barut,” though few had actually seen him. The disheveled man quickly analyzed his situation. It was clear he had no chance of winning. “Eighty million!” he gritted his teeth, squeezing the words out through clenched teeth, “Dollars!” “Not enough,” the young man replied, his voice as cold as ever, without even lifting his eyelids. “The three largest jade mines in Dawei, all mine, all yours. Is that enough now?” The man was almost collapsing to the ground. “Where’s the money?” The young man tugged at his lips, revealing a faint, almost nonexistent smile. “In my villa’s study in Pattaya, Thailand.” Barut raised an eyebrow and pressed his Bluetooth earpiece. “Go find it.” A minute later, an explosion sounded through the earpiece, followed by an exclamation, “Damn, Barut, it’s really dollars.”The young man tapped the tip of his knife against the man’s ashen face. “Call your men and tell them to pull out. From now on, the mines in Dawei belong to me.” The man’s hands trembled so much he could barely hold his phone. Under the young man’s snake-like gaze, he dialed his trusted aide. “Boss, we’ve moved all the money. What should we do with the three women and the two kids?” came the voice through the Bluetooth earpiece. The young man glanced coldly at the man slumped on the floor. “What do you think?” “Understood, boss!” The voice on the other end was clearly shaken by the icy words. “Remember, I don’t keep fools around.” Hanging up the call, Barut sheathed his knife and started walking towards the exit. A man who had survived countless gunfights had eyes all over his body. The man on the floor hadn’t even touched his g*n before a flying knife sealed his throat. The young man didn’t even look back. Barut casually sat down on the leather sofa, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it. After receiving a call confirming everything was in order, he lazily said, “Come and take the gold. I won’t be returning to the camp for a while. If the deputy commander asks, tell him I’m handling some personal matters.” As Barut sat on the sofa, the door to the mansion creaked open, and a young woman stepped in. She was dressed in a simple yet elegant dress, her eyes sharp and observant. She walked over to Barut, her expression unreadable. “Barut, we have a problem,” she said, her voice steady. Barut exhaled a plume of smoke, his eyes narrowing. “What is it, Mei?” “There’s been a leak. Someone in our ranks is feeding information to the enemy. We need to find out who it is before they compromise our entire operation.” Barut’s expression darkened. “Gather the trusted ones. We’ll root out the traitor.” Mei nodded and left the room, her steps quick and purposeful. Barut crushed the cigarette in the ashtray, his mind already working through the possibilities. He knew that in their line of work, betrayal was a constant threat, and he would not tolerate it. As the night deepened, Barut’s men began to gather in the mansion, each one loyal and ready to follow his orders. The hunt for the traitor had begun, and Barut was determined to eliminate the threat before it could do any more damage.By the time he came out, the rain had stopped, and he took two steps before he felt the sting on his arm. It had been scraped by a stray bullet when he broke into the villa just now. Sitting on the side of the road in the big lama, his own backpack took out the gauze, wrapped two circles haphazardly, is packing up things, suddenly, the dark night came from the ear piercing motor sound, and then the front curve suddenly appeared two blinding light, the Red Ferrari, bright and colorful, wantonly driving in the deserted street, two seconds later, since the Ferrari behind the emergence of a black Gusto, the two cars in parallel, in about to drive out of the curve, the Gusto obviously better car skills, a drift, will be forced to stop the Ferrari on the side of the road, right in front of the eyes of the Baru!