From last night until now, I've been silently telling myself in my heart that these northern Myanmar thugs have gone to such great lengths to deceive us and have invested so much manpower, material, and financial resources. Ultimately, it must all be for money.
Consequently, I've always believed that as long as I can demonstrate sufficient value, surviving shouldn't be a huge problem.
After some time, I finally realized that what Abu told me today was something every new captive entering this hell heard.
You must understand that telecom fraud is just one aspect of the value these thugs extract from us.
Moreover, not everyone who's tricked into going to northern Myanmar will live long enough to engage in telecom fraud.
In other words, a large number of people don't even have the chance to be used for extortion.
"200,000!"
"As long as your family is willing to pay 200,000 to ransom you, you can go home free."
Seeing that I was visibly moved, Abu's eyes sparkled with excitement as he said this with a pleasant expression.
200,000 for freedom?
My heart skipped a couple of beats.
I even began to subconsciously calculate. My parents have run a grocery store in our hometown town for over 20 years. Even if they don't have that much in savings, they could surely raise 200,000 by borrowing from relatives and friends.
After all, I'm a legitimate college graduate. Once I get home and find a job, I could earn this 200,000 in at most three to five years.
"Can you really guarantee that as long as we pay the 200,000 ransom, you'll let me go home?"
After a moment of contemplation, I'd already made up my mind.
Freedom was within reach. I had to give it a try, no matter what.
As for whether my parents would be willing to pay the money to save me, that was beyond my current consideration.
It's not that I hadn't considered the possibility that this Burmese guy named Abu was lying to me.
Even if they got the money, they might not let me go.
But 200,000 as a cost of trial and error wasn't particularly high. It was worth the gamble.
Looking back on this incident later, I repeatedly slapped myself in the face for my selfishness and naivety, which cost my parents most of their life savings.
It was also after some time that I accidentally learned that this seemingly simple speech tactic of these northern Myanmar scum was actually designed by a psychologist.
Even the ransom amount quoted for the first time was determined by these bastards based on each of our actual situations.
"Friend, we're just after money. If every outsider who comes to northern Myanmar dies, do you think there will be more people coming in the future? Do you think the authorities will continue to let us operate?"
Abu smiled but didn't answer the question, once again luring me into his carefully crafted logical trap.
With just those two simple sentences, the hope of survival in my heart flared up.
"Of course, if we encounter stubborn people who value their lives less than money, then there's nothing we can do."
"Among the twenty - odd of you who came this time, we always need a warning example. What do you think?"
As soon as Abu finished speaking, the armed Burmese man next to him pulled the bolt with a "click", making the sound of the bullet being loaded clearly audible to me.
The next moment, the cold, black muzzle of the gun was aimed at my head.
Be the sacrificial lamb?
No!
I want to live.
With this thought, I instinctively picked up the old mobile phone in front of me and dialed my mother's number under the watchful eyes of Abu and another northern Myanmar thug.
Abu promptly reminded, "Turn on the speakerphone. Don't try anything funny."
After a few rings, the call was connected.
"Hello."
"Hello."
"Hey, is it Qiangwa Man?"
Hearing my mother's familiar voice, I couldn't hold back anymore. I gritted my teeth and cried out "Mom" with a choked voice.
It wasn't that I wanted to cry, but I just couldn't help it.
"Qiangwa, Qiangqiang, what's going on?"
My mother heard me trying to hold back my sobs, and she burst into tears on the other end of the phone.
The old saying that a mother and son have a heart - to - heart connection is truly accurate.
"Mom, save me, save me, Mom."
Hearing my mother's cries, the last bit of my mental defense completely crumbled. All the humiliation and torture I'd endured these days were poured out in this "Mom, save me".
At this moment, I, a 1.8 - meter - tall man, was crying like a child.
"Qiangwa, what on earth are you doing? Don't scare mom."
On the other end of the phone, my mother was so frightened by my "save me" that she couldn't even cry properly.
I could clearly hear the trembling, panic, and worry in my mother's voice through the phone.
"Mom, I was tricked into coming to northern Myanmar, and they want 200,000 to let me go home."
I clenched my thighs, wiped my tears, and forced myself to calm down.
The most important thing right now was to get out of this dreadful place first.
"Qiangwa, don't be afraid. Mom will definitely save you, even if it costs mom her life."
"You wait, don't hang up. I'll go upstairs and call your dad."
My mom was crying and shouting loudly to comfort me on the phone, and then I could vaguely hear her running up the stairs and calling my dad's name.
I know my mom must be extremely terrified and worried at this moment.
Although I've always known that my parents love me deeply and would do anything for me.
But for some reason, hearing my mother's promise on the phone made me feel a sense of relief.
What was I afraid of?
Was I afraid that my parents wouldn't pay 200,000 to ransom me?
In this world, there are only children who don't care about their parents, not parents who don't care about their children.
Listening to the phone, it seemed that my mother had fallen while climbing the stairs, and I remembered her vow to risk her life to save me.
I swore in my heart that once I got back, I'd be filial to my parents and never make them angry again.
After about a minute, my father's worried, angry, and restrained voice came through the phone.
After a few exchanges on the phone, my dad was silent for a few seconds and then said, "Qiangwa, give them the phone."
"Dad, the phone's on speakerphone. You can talk directly. They can hear you."
I looked up at Abu and the other Burmese man across from me and gradually regained my composure.
"Mr. Li, we're just after money. Once 200,000 is in our account, I promise to let your son go."
Before my dad could speak, Abu took the initiative to pick up the phone and said, as if he could read minds through the phone.
After another few seconds of silence, my father continued, "200,000 is too much. We can't come up with that much money in a short time."
"Mr. Li, I'll only remind you once. Your son only has this one chance to make a call. You decide whether to pay or not."
"By the way, I forgot to tell you that you only have one day to raise the money. If the money doesn't arrive tomorrow morning, your son will never come back."
After Abu finished speaking, he hung up the phone directly, not giving my dad any chance to negotiate.