A torrent of emotions swirled within me. If my analysis was correct, then the culprits behind my plight were not difficult to deduce.
It was them—those two. It had to be.
I clenched my teeth in frustration. The memory of that day lingered—the day I caused them to lose three million euros, a staggering sum. The grudge between Skinny Monkey and me ran deep. I was the reason he lost a hand; of course, he wouldn't forgive me. I knew he would retaliate; Zhao Kui had even warned me. Yet the way misfortune struck was swift and unforeseen, leaving me utterly unprepared.
Only now did I fully grasp the truth of the saying: "Do no harm, but remain vigilant of others' intentions."
But it was too late.
All I could do was pray for survival. I understood their intentions—to exploit and eliminate me. They knew my significance to both Boss Wei and Qian Guang. By capturing me rather than Boss Wei, they could extort money and, once they got it, kill me to settle old scores and strike a blow to Qian Guang.
The thought chilled me to my core.
Blindfolded, I was left to await my fate. Time crawled as hours passed. The oppressive heat and my own sweat soaked through layer after layer of my clothing. Outside, all was eerily quiet. I dared not speak; I could see nothing.
After what felt like an eternity—about three hours—I heard footsteps. My blindfold was removed, and someone shoved a phone into my hand.
"Call again," he commanded.
His expression was grim, anger simmering beneath the surface. I took the phone, desperate, and dialed Boss Wei's number once more. This time, it connected.
Relief and hope surged within me. "Boss Wei, I've been captured!"
Before I could say more, a sharp slap stung my face, and the phone was snatched from my hand. The man growled into the phone, "Fifty million yuan. Prepare the money, or he dies."
"Don't kill anyone! Please, no bloodshed. I'll figure out the money, but I don't have that much right now…"
Boss Wei's hesitant reply stung. I knew he had the money—at least a hundred million from his last venture with Kun Sang. Yet, at this moment, he claimed otherwise.
"Don't have cash? Then give us the raw stone you won yesterday. That'll serve as ransom."
Boss Wei laughed dryly. "The stone's worth a hundred million. You want fifty—do you plan to give me change? How amusing. Listen, I'm a businessman. I don't do losing deals. I'll try to gather the money. If you can wait, fine. If not, kill him. I won't care."
His words cut deeper than any wound. I told myself he was stalling for time, strategizing to save me. I had to believe it.
But the voice in my head whispered another truth: this was human nature, the nature of businessmen. He wouldn't risk himself for me.
Two conflicting thoughts wrestled in my mind, leaving me in torment.
"Fine. I'll give you time. When will the money be ready?"
Boss Wei hesitated before replying, "Three days. This is Myanmar. Converting to yuan takes time."
"That's too long. You have one day," the man barked.
Boss Wei chuckled coldly. "Then forget it. Three days or nothing. If you can't wait, go ahead and kill him."
The call ended abruptly. Staring at the darkened screen, I was struck with disbelief and anger. He'd just hung up. I clenched my teeth, convincing myself he had a plan.
The man slapped me again. "Pathetic. You mean less to him than a dog. Regret kidnapping you now—should've taken him instead. If I don't get the money, I'll make you wish you were dead."
He left me beaten and aching, my spirit smothered by humiliation. As his figure retreated, I silently vowed revenge. I memorized his face; one day, I'd settle the score for every ounce of suffering.
The night deepened, bringing only silence. Time dragged from day into night, and another day passed. By dawn, I was parched and weak. The isolation gnawed at my mind, the fear of abandonment growing heavier.
The guards at the door stood vigilant, their guns a constant reminder of the futility of escape.
As night fell again, despair loomed. Wang Gui's voice trembled, breaking the oppressive silence. "Brother Fei, I can't hold on…"
I lifted my head with difficulty. "Stay strong. We'll make it."
"I think my ribs are broken. I think I'm dying…"
Tears welled in my eyes. Wang Gui had endured so much for my sake, and now his life hung by a thread. Yet, he voiced no blame—only a quiet plea:
"Brother Fei, if I die, don't leave me here. Take me home…"
"You're not going to die," I said, though I barely believed my own words.
Hope and despair battled endlessly in my heart. Three days—a lifetime in this torment. Would Boss Wei act in time? Or had he abandoned me, leaving me to my fate?
I couldn't place all my hopes on him. Zhao Kui—if he managed to escape—might yet rescue us. My phone's tracker was still active. Perhaps he'd think to use it.
Time crept forward, each moment a mixture of anticipation and dread.
Two days passed. Wang Gui stopped responding. Panic gripped me. "Wang Gui, answer me!"
Silence.
"Damn it, Wang Gui! Speak to me!"
No answer. Desperation spilled over as I shouted to the guards. "Help! Someone help him! If he dies, you won't see a single cent! Bring your boss!"
The guards exchanged glances before one left the room. My heart raced as hope flickered faintly.
"Hold on, brother," I whispered. "Just hold on…"