Volume One, Chapter 19: The Inescapable Truth

To be honest, at that moment I was truly taken aback. I couldn’t understand why Boss Hu wanted to see me.

All along, I never aspired to climb into the upper echelons of the group; I only wished to be an inconspicuous, low-level employee.

Moreover, because of what happened with Max, I harbored deep resentment and wariness toward the group’s leadership. I didn’t want any entanglement with them; I just wanted to work quietly and, once I’d earned enough, leave this ruthless place that devours people whole.

But now, Hu actually wanted to meet me. Why?

I asked A-Long, “What does he want to see me for?”

“Dongzi, what are you thinking? Just because Hu wants to see you doesn’t mean anything special,” A-Long patted my shoulder and said, “Don’t overthink it. He actually wanted to meet you a long time ago, but he’s been running around and busy with all kinds of stuff lately. Otherwise, I would have taken you over to have dinner and make introductions earlier.”

“Just now, after hearing your thoughts, he happened to have some free time and asked me to bring you over for dinner.”

Honestly, I really didn’t want to have much contact with the top brass. But A-Long gave me no choice—he practically dragged me out of the office.

On the way there, we talked about Hu. A-Long told me about his illustrious past, almost like a group secret.

He said that two years ago, Hu was just a runner, chauffeuring casino agents’ bosses who came here to gamble.

Hu is from Fujian. By a stroke of fate, he once drove a fellow villager nicknamed “Turkey”—now Hu’s big brother and the real power behind the group. Turkey owns numerous gray-market companies all over northern Myanmar, even holds shares in Las Vegas casinos.

Although Turkey is younger than Hu, he’s incredibly ambitious. In just two or three years in Cambodia, he rose from a small employee to a widely known big boss.

When Turkey came to northern Myanmar, besides gambling, he mainly came to scout whether the area was suitable for gray-market operations.

After his assessment, he found northern Myanmar far better than Cambodia in many ways. The local government here is desperate for money; as long as you pay, they turn a blind eye, unlike Cambodia, where money sometimes doesn’t do the trick.

Moreover, due to the fragmented independence of the four special zones in northern Myanmar, the central government finds it extremely difficult to enforce the law here, making gray-market activities comparatively safer.

After establishing the company, Turkey contacted Hu to work there.

Under Turkey’s leadership, Hu quickly rose from a small runner to a manager, eventually branching out to start his own company as a boss.

A-Long said Hu has been very busy lately because he plans to move the group to Xiao Mengla. Turkey has invested in building an office building there specifically for gray-market operators from the mainland, and the government relations there are better.

The government here in Mengbo is very corrupt; they only recognize money, not people, making dealings difficult.

A-Long also told me that Hu rarely has free time, and since I’ve known him, he’s never before named anyone he wanted to meet personally.

I am the first person Hu has actively sought out to meet and get to know.

He warned me that when I meet Hu, I shouldn’t speak too bluntly. Even if there are things I don’t want to do, I shouldn’t say so directly. We can figure things out later ourselves.

Hu lives up in the mountains, in a very remote location. I asked A-Long why, if Hu is so wealthy, he doesn’t stay in a hotel but chooses to go deep into the secluded mountains. A-Long just smiled mysteriously and said I’d understand once we arrived.

The mountain roads were rugged and winding. I nearly got carsick before we finally reached our destination.

Looking ahead, I was stunned for several seconds before I could compose myself.

In front of me was a manor enclosed by high walls.

At the gate stood four local soldiers in green uniforms, armed with AK47s, standing guard.

Around the high walls, watchtowers were built, each with shadows flickering inside.

Previously, chatting casually with other employees, I had heard that here, if you have money, you can enlist soldiers as your personal bodyguards, or even form your own armed militia.

Now it all seemed true.

Even though A-Long is one of Hu’s most trusted men, he was thoroughly searched upon entry, checked for guns, knives, and other weapons.

The manor was huge, with many buildings. A-Long drove the car to a lavishly decorated villa and stopped at the door.

Around a large wooden table in the villa’s main hall, three men were seated drinking tea. One was the minister, while I did not recognize the other two. Next to the minister sat a thin young man in his twenties, and opposite the table was a slightly plump, round-faced man in his forties.

“Hu, this is A-Dong!” A-Long cheerfully introduced me to the round-faced man.

I hurriedly smiled and greeted, “Boss Hu.”

“A-Dong’s here! Come, sit, have some tea!” Hu warmly welcomed me, pointing to the chair closest to him.

Then Hu personally brewed the tea, his demeanor gentle and his voice calm, which helped ease my initial nervousness.

Before meeting Hu, especially seeing the soldiers guarding the entrance, my heart was uncontrollable with tension. I expected him to be like those crime bosses on TV, all high and mighty.

In truth, Hu gave me no such impression.

Though this was our first meeting, we quickly felt like old friends, talking with ease and no awkwardness.

After a brief introduction, Hu’s attention shifted away from me as he engaged the minister in conversation.

While we were talking, the thin young man named A-Ming, who had gone upstairs shortly after we arrived, came down and walked up to A-Long.

“Is your brother good with computers?” he asked.

A-Long nodded, and A-Ming turned to me.

“Do you understand programming?”

I nodded slightly and said I knew a little.

He said, “Come upstairs and show us the setup. There’s a problem we haven’t been able to solve.”

On the second floor, just as we reached the top of the stairs, a row of computers and several people came into view—several women and two men.

I was puzzled as to why anyone was working here, but A-Long quickly explained, “A-Dong, I forgot to tell you, this is the group’s backend. See that beauty in the pink shirt? She’s Lele, our company’s backend customer service.”

So this was where the backend was.

A few days ago, while familiarizing myself with the project’s operational procedures, I learned that the platform’s usual lottery results followed the main board, that is, the overseas gambling institution’s official results.

But A-Long told me that when a client places a bet, they have to coordinate in advance with the backend customer service because, as the “zhu zai” (the pawns) said, they had found a loophole allowing them to get the lottery results ahead of time.

These so-called lottery results were actually pre-set by the backend customer service for the platform’s upcoming draws, then sent to the group chat. Employees used these numbers to instruct the pawns where to bet.

After several consecutive wins, the pawns would believe that their lover on the phone truly had access to a loophole and would want to pool money to make a big score.

When the backend was mentioned, I asked A-Long if the backend was in the large office I’d never been to before.

He said no, the backend would never be in the same place as the front desk.

Because if trouble arises, the front desk always gets hit first. The backend holds the crucial computer data, so having it in the same place as the front desk would be too risky.

I thought to myself that with the backend hidden deep in these mountains and guarded by soldiers outside, it was indeed very secure.

But then, seeing the heavily protected backend right before me, I suddenly panicked.

All along, I had been avoiding one truth.

Yet, as expected, the truth is ultimately impossible to evade.