Police officer Chen Shu

"No mission?"

Startled, Ma Rongcheng stood up from the back seat, bumped into the roof with a thud, cried out in pain, clutched his head, and sat back down.

He rubbed his head and asked in surprise, "Officer Chen, we haven't received any orders from above. What are we going there for?"

Chen Shu handed the document bag that Sister Ying had given him to Ma Rongcheng. Ma Rongcheng opened the document bag and took out a thin stack of official documents, which he carefully read in the bumpy carriage.

After a moment, Ma Rongcheng put down the documents with a somewhat bewildered look. This kind of case handling was really beyond his capabilities. He had no idea what to do or how to proceed.

For Ma Rongcheng, those perplexing murder cases in the localities were perhaps simpler and clearer: just one thing—catch the murderer.

This kind of task, where you're given an area and told to work with the local police to crack down on telecom fraud zones, doesn't provide a single word about how to do it.

How much is the fine?

Should the business be suspended for rectification or have its operating license revoked?

How much is administrative detention, and how much is criminal detention?
What does Myanmar's criminal law look like? Or are cases handled according to China's criminal law?

I know nothing about it.

However, this is the first time that China has sent a large-scale police team across borders to enforce the law against telecom fraud. Everyone is inexperienced and is figuring things out as they go.

Thinking of Wang Yan, the police liaison officer from the embassy who had come with him, and Sister Ying, the deputy director of the international department whom he had just added on WeChat, Ma Rongcheng felt a little better.

When the sky falls, someone has to hold it up. For the first time, Ma Rongcheng, who was over forty years old and worked as a detective in the provincial department, running around putting out fires, had this thought in his mind.

"Officer Chen, how about you leave this gun here?"

Just as they were about to set off for northern Myanmar, Xiao Wang, who had come from the Donghai Provincial Department, hesitated for a long time before taking out a Type 64 pistol from his waistband and placing it in front of Chen Shu.

Ma Rongcheng glanced at it and thought to himself, "How can such a rich province as Donghai be so stingy when it comes to guns? This pistol is probably older than all the people present."

thump.

The road was unstable, and the pickup truck jolted, causing the pistol that Xiao Wang was holding to fall from his hand. Ma Rongcheng, who was sitting next to him, was startled. Although he knew that the gun would usually be on safety, this secretary of the leader looked like he had never practiced shooting.

That's terrifying.

Chen Shu nodded, picked up the gun without ceremony, removed the magazine, glanced at it, and then tied the holster and sling that Xiao Wang handed him to his belt.

After watching the entire process through the rearview mirror, Badura casually remarked, "Commander, you guys are carrying pistols too?"

Xiao Wang was taken aback, thinking that they wouldn't allow him to bring it. After all, it involved official business at the diplomatic level between the two countries, so he said cautiously, "We can keep the pistol for you as you request."

Chen Shu remained focused on his gun.

Badulla quickly waved his hand: "No need, no need, you can keep them yourselves. I just think your guns aren't very powerful, so I feel they're useless. By the way, why don't you go check our warehouse? If you find anything you like, feel free to take it."

Hearing this, Chen Shu snapped on his holster and looked up, saying, "Go take a look."

The convoy drove out of the city and stopped next to a building about twenty minutes later.

The exterior walls were painted white, and two policemen in gray uniforms stood at the entrance, with a police car painted white parked next to them.

Beep beep. After the pickup trucks honked their horns a few times, the iron gate was quickly pulled open, and the convoy drove smoothly into the compound.

Although no one knew why Badulla, a soldier, had driven his car into the SWAT team's warehouse, the sight of all the weapons laid out so openly in front of them left them stunned and with no intention of asking any questions.

The largest number of firearms were from the United States, including rifles and machine guns such as the M16, M249, and M240. Several German HK416s could also be seen from Europe, and even Chinese Type 56 assault rifles and Type 81 rifles were displayed in prominent places.

It's a genuine IWC product, but it doesn't look very well maintained.

Unsurprisingly, the Type 95 King of Mishaps, which is famous in Chinese police circles, also exists.

No wonder Badura had previously looked down on Xiao Wang's Type 64 pistol.

“Firepower is what gives us the confidence to speak.” Badulla leaned against a shelf made of four long ammunition boxes stacked together and patted the wooden crate below. “Dalalin is not a place for reason.”

Jiang Hai squatted on the ground, staring at the weapon case that had been thrown on the ground and opened by someone, and gasped, "Holy crap, guess what I saw?"

"40 rounds! Holy crap, an anti-tank weapon lying around in a SWAT team's warehouse? Are they even police? Anyone who didn't know better would think they were at war!"

Jiang Hai is just a young man who has just come of age. If he hadn't been admitted to the police academy, or if he hadn't developed a love for firearms, most people wouldn't be able to recognize so many models.

For example, Ma Rongcheng and Xiao Wang, although they are both police officers, one of whom is a veteran criminal investigator deeply involved in grassroots work, they just couldn't recognize these guns and cannons.

However, they recognized the caliber of these guns and cannons, and the power of the firepower coming from such a large hole was unimaginable. This gave them a rough estimate of the risks of their trip to northern Myanmar.

Chen Shu walked over and looked down.

The 40mm rocket launcher, also known as the Type 69 40mm rocket launcher, is a cylindrical metal tube about one meter long, made entirely of steel, and coated with a dark gray paint.

Zhu Yiba picked up the middle grip of the 40 Fire and rested it on his right shoulder: "Chen Da, this thing is simple and easy to use, I'll take this one."

"NONONO." Badura walked over carrying a green-painted weapon case, threw it on the ground, and kicked up a cloud of dust.

After putting down the box, Badura said breathlessly, "Commander, this thing is awesome. Boom! All my worries are gone."

Everyone looked down and saw a line of letters written on the box in thick black pen: RPG-7.

Zhu Yiba was clearly attracted, but he smiled in an instant, patted the slender metal tube on his shoulder, and said, "Never mind, I'm still used to using this, it's more convenient."

Jiang Hai first picked up an M16, rested the butt against the hollow of his shoulder blade, took a few quick shots, then reluctantly put the rifle down, picked up a Type 95 pistol from the table, carefully unloaded the magazine, and found it was full of bullets.

Jiang Hai pointed the gun at Chen Shu: "Brother Shu, may I take this pistol?"

Chen Shu pointed at the Type 95 rifle that Jiang Hai was pointing at and laughed, "Xiao Hai, the safety is on with this gun. If this were in the police academy, the physical education teacher would probably slap him a few times."

It must be said that Myanmar's gun depots are not poorly maintained, but rather completely neglected; they can't even perform the simplest task of separating bullets from guns.

However, everyone present was used to it.

When Jiang Hai heard Chen Shu say that, he thought that Chen Shu agreed to let him carry a gun, and he jumped up happily. However, Chen Chuan casually said something that made him fall into despair.

"Xiao Hai, you don't have a gun license, do you?" (End of Chapter)