Giving You a Chance

Brother Hu slammed the phone down hard on the greasy card table with a dull thud, and the cracks on the screen seemed to extend a few more times. The cheap plastic casing bounced and almost fell to the ground.

"Damn it!" Brother Hu jumped up, knocking over the plastic stool behind him with a screeching sound. Veins throbbed on his forehead, and his triangular eyes were filled with malice as he stared at the air, as if the "old bastard" who dared to curse him was right in front of him. "You old coffin bastard, you're tired of living! You dare to curse me? Fine! Just you wait! I'll be back in a minute, chop his precious son up! Chop him into mincemeat! Wrap him up in meatballs and send him back! Damn it!"

He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving violently, clearly enraged. In this lawless area, "Brother Hu" was a big shot, managing over a dozen "pigs" and several thugs. He was usually the one threatening others; when had it ever come to his hostages' family members yelling at him over the phone? This made him feel that his authority had been challenged and that he was losing face.

Around the card table, several men who had been playing cards with him earlier, wearing floral shirts or vests, quickly gathered around. A Skinny with blond hair and high cheekbones hurriedly offered him a cigarette, smiling obsequiously, "Brother Hu, calm down, calm down! Don't get worked up about money, right?"

Another burly, bald man with distorted tattoos on his arms chimed in, "That's right, Brother Hu, it's not worth it. That old geezer's probably gone crazy and's talking nonsense. Our goal is to make money, to make money!"

The blond-haired man's eyes darted around. He leaned closer, lowered his voice, and said with a calculating shrewdness, "Brother Hu, think about it. To throw away half a million... no, maybe even more... just for a moment of pride, wouldn't that be a huge loss? That kid may be a coward, but he's still a life, a bargaining chip in our hands. I think we should go along with them for now, let them plunder the house, squeeze as much as they can out of it. When they really can't squeeze any more out of him..."

He chuckled twice, his voice even lower. "... If we send him over to Myawaddy, that 'park' there is desperately needing hard-working 'coolies,' and we can make another fortune. We'll double the money! Why waste it on money?"

Upon hearing "Myawaddy" and "double the money," Brother Hu's anger subsided slightly. He took the cigarette offered by the blond-haired man, lit it with the lighter in the man's hand, took a deep drag, and exhaled thick smoke from his nostrils. He squinted at the phone with its shattered screen on the table, seemingly weighing his options.

Indeed, arguing over money is the stupidest thing to do. Here, human life is worthless, but money is real. That Sun Penghui is a coward; squeezing his family dry and then reselling him is the way to maximize profits. Destroying this "living asset" for a single curse is definitely not worth it.

Thinking of this, his anger subsided considerably, but the resentment of being offended had not completely dissipated, and he still felt he had to get his revenge.

Just then, the cell phone on the table with its cracked screen started vibrating stubbornly again, emitting a buzzing sound. The screen was flashing the same number from China that had been there earlier.

The men around the card table exchanged glances. The blond-haired man gave a signal, and the bald man and the others immediately composed themselves, sitting or standing, adopting a fierce and menacing demeanor, even though the room was already filled with a smoky, roguish atmosphere.

Brother Hu stared at the flashing number, a cold, cat -Rat smile playing on his lips. He didn't answer immediately, only slowly extending his finger to swipe the answer button and pressing speakerphone again just before the call was about to automatically disconnect.

"Hello... hello? Tiger... is this Brother Hu?" The voice of Second Aunt's husband immediately came from the other end of the phone, completely different from his earlier furious roar. Now it was filled with humility and fear, even trembling and sobbing. "Brother Hu... I'm so sorry, so sorry, Brother Hu! I... I acted impulsively just now, I deserve to die! I'm a bastard! Please, have mercy on me! Please... please don't hurt my son! I beg you!"

My aunt's husband's voice was filled with desperate pleading, almost incoherent. One can imagine how, in the living room on the other end of the phone, he was forced by his family's tears and fear to suppress all his humiliation and anger and make this call to apologize.

Brother Hu's face grew colder as he listened to the pathetic pleas for mercy, yet a hint of pleasure lingered on it. He flicked his cigarette ash, remaining silent, savoring the other man's fear.

"Brother Hu... we'll definitely give you the money! We'll sell everything we own to pay you! We'll find a way to get 500,000! Please give us a few more days... no, we'll do it as soon as possible! Please don't hurt Xiaohui..." Uncle continued to plead.

"Heh." Brother Hu finally chuckled coldly, interrupting the other person. His voice, transmitted through the speakerphone, carried a deliberately slowed, cruel mockery:

"You old bastard, now you're scared? What the hell were you thinking before? You dare to curse me?"

He paused, allowing the other person's fear to fester.

"Fine, since you're so 'sensible' as to return the call," Brother Hu exhaled a smoke ring, his tone suddenly changing to one that brooked no argument, "I've changed my mind. Five hundred thousand? That was the price just now."

A clear gasp came from the other end of the phone.

"Now, I'm giving you two choices." Brother Hu spoke each word clearly and coldly, "First, by dawn tomorrow, gather one million and transfer it to my account. Once the money arrives, I'll send your son back to you safe and sound. Second..."

He deliberately dragged out his words, reveling in the thrill of controlling the lives and deaths of others:

"If I don't see a million by dawn tomorrow, I'll chop your son up and feed him to the dogs. That way I can save on dog food costs. Understand?"

"One... one million?!" Uncle's voice instantly changed, filled with disbelief, terror, and despair. "Brother Hu! This... we really can't come up with this! We can't even come up with five hundred thousand... even if it forces us to our deaths, we'll still go..."

"Shut the fuck up!" Brother Hu suddenly raised his voice, interrupting sharply, "I'm not discussing this with you! Let me tell you, if it's ten thousand less, I'll chop off one of his fingers and send it to him! If I can't chop off his finger, I'll chop off his toe! You decide what to do!"

His threat was naked and bloody, leaving no room for compromise. The blond-haired and bald men at the card table both smiled, clearly used to this kind of impromptu betting tactic that completely broke down the opponent's psychological defenses, and even quite admired it.

There was a deathly silence on the other end of the phone, broken only by heavy, disordered breathing and the faint, suppressed sobs of a woman. Uncle seemed utterly crushed by the doubled price and cruel threat, too exhausted to even try to negotiate, left only with boundless fear and despair.

Just when Brother Hu thought the other party had broken down and was about to apply more pressure, a slight rustling sound came from the other end of the phone, as if the phone was being handed over.

Then, a completely different sound came through the electrical current.

The voice was young, calm, even overly calm, without the slightest tremor, fear, or pleading. It was as cold as frosted glass on a winter morning, piercing clearly through the polluted air.

"Hello, is this Brother Hu?"

Brother Hu paused, his brow furrowing. It wasn't the old man's voice from before, nor was it a woman's voice.

"And who the hell are you?" Brother Hu retorted impatiently, his tone harsh. He disliked this feeling of being out of control, especially the other party's calm tone, which made him vaguely uncomfortable.

The young male voice on the other end of the phone didn't answer his question, but continued in that calm, almost indifferent tone:

Who I am is none of your concern.

He paused for half a second, as if giving Brother Hu time to process what he had said, and then clearly stated:

"Now, I'll give you a chance too."

"Before midnight tonight."

"Bring my brother back safe and sound."

His tone remained completely calm, yet each word was like a cold, sharp stone, resounding with conviction.

"Otherwise,"

The young man casually added a sentence, the content of which caused everyone at the card table, including Brother Hu, to suddenly shrink in the pupils:

"I'm really giving it to you, and to those thugs next to you too,"

Go feed the dogs.

An eerie silence fell over both ends of the phone call.