I started by watching videos, and I chose 10,000 combat power.

At 2 PM, Luo Fei was in the yard instructing Chu Yue on the third set of body-refining techniques, while also teaching his parents the second set of techniques.

Chu Yue encountered difficulty when she tried to turn around. No matter how she tried, she could not complete the movement smoothly. Her body was twisted in place, and a painful expression appeared on her face.

Luo Fei was standing to the side, about to reach out and adjust her shoulder posture, when his phone suddenly rang.

He first helped Chu Yue correct her movements, then took out his phone and found that the caller ID showed an unfamiliar number from northern Myanmar.

Luo Fei answered the phone, and Mo Heng's voice came through the receiver. His tone was unusually solemn, completely different from his usual rough warlord image.

"Mr. Luo, good afternoon. I'm sorry to bother you. I'm currently facing some issues and need your personal attention."

Luo Fei asked, "What is it?"

Mohen replied, "In Myanmar, most warlords and forces have agreed to come under my command. However, some people don't quite believe the photos I released earlier, thinking they've been manipulated. They say they'll only believe it if they see you in person. This afternoon, representatives from all sides arrived at my camp. Everyone is here, and we'd like you to be our witness."

Luo Fei remained silent for two seconds.

Mo Heng lowered his voice even further, a faint hissing sound coming from the microphone, as if afraid of being overheard by those around him: "Mr. Luo, I know you are very busy, but this matter is crucial to the overall situation in Myanmar. If you could come, even just to show your face and say a few words, the rest of the problems could be easily solved."

Luo Fei glanced at Chu Yue, who had recovered from her awkward posture and was standing up straight, wiping her sweat with a towel. Her gaze, however, was fixed on Luo Fei, with a hint of inquiry.

At the same time, Luo Fei's parents also looked at him with suspicion.

Luo Fei said "I understand" and then hung up the phone.

Chu Yue asked, "Is there something you need to take care of?"

Luo Fei replied, "I'm going to northern Myanmar, I'll be back soon. You guys rest for a bit, we'll continue when I get back." With that, he vanished from the courtyard with a thought.

The next second, Luo Fei appeared beside Mo Heng.

The cabin was packed with people today. There weren't enough bamboo chairs, so some people sat on benches, some stood, and some leaned against the wall.

All eyes were focused on the same spot—an empty seat directly opposite the bamboo table, which Mo Heng had specially reserved for Luo Fei.

The moment Luo Fei appeared, it was as if the air in the wooden house had been sucked out instantly.

He didn't "walk in," but rather "appeared out of thin air."

He was dressed in a plain T-shirt and sneakers, his attire quite ordinary, but the moment he stood there, he drew everyone's attention.

An elderly man sitting in the front row suddenly stood up, causing his chair to tip backward and hit the foot of the person behind him, but the person did not cry out in pain.

The elderly man was dressed in traditional northern Myanmar clothing, with gray hair and a carved cane in his hand, looking quite elegant.

He stared wide-eyed at Luo Fei, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he wanted to say something, but only a gurgling sound like phlegm came out of his throat.

He had been wandering in northern Myanmar for decades and had experienced many ups and downs, but this was the first time he had ever seen a person appear out of thin air.

A middle-aged man in military uniform next to him reacted more directly.

His hand instinctively went to the holster at his waist, not to draw his gun, but to check if the weapon was still there. After confirming, he didn't let go; his fingers remained fastened to the holster's buckle.

Some people had their mouths open and forgot to close them; some people dropped their teacups and shattered them on the ground, spilling tea everywhere, but no one looked down to look.

The entire cabin seemed to be paused, and everyone's movements froze—except for Mohen.

Moheng turned around, put his hands together, and bowed slightly, performing a Burmese greeting.

"Mr. Luo, thank you for coming."

After bowing, he straightened up, faced the room full of people, and raised his voice: "Everyone has seen this. This is Mr. Luo. Your request to 'see with your own eyes' has now been fulfilled."

The cabin remained completely silent.

The silence lasted for about two or three seconds before someone let out a soft sigh, as if they had been holding their breath for a long time and were finally daring to breathe again.

Luo Fei did not sit down, but stood there, his gaze sweeping over everyone present.

There were more than a dozen people present, of varying ages and builds, some in military uniforms, some in civilian clothes, and some in ethnic costumes, but their eyes were remarkably consistent—filled with awe, curiosity, and a barely perceptible hint of fear. Luo Fei spoke slowly.

"What brings you here today?"

Mo Heng turned slightly to the side, adopting a humble posture, and began to introduce himself to the people present.

He pointed to them one by one—the one on the left in military uniform is a general with three thousand men under his command, controlling three mining areas;

The man on the right wearing traditional white clothing is the chief of a certain ethnic group. He has been running his business in northern Myanmar for generations and has deep roots in the region.

The bespectacled man in the corner, who looks like a schoolteacher, is a representative of the government forces.

Moheng then gave the government military representative a few more instructions, his tone laced with sarcasm: "This man was sent by the government military to 'observe,' saying he wanted to understand the specific situation on our side."

After listening, Luo Fei nodded, then asked a question that surprised everyone: "Are there any forces that are not present and oppose the merger? Tell me their locations, and I'll take care of them while I'm at it."

The air inside the cabin once again became still.

The old man who had stood up suddenly felt his legs buckle and sat back down in the chair. The chair creaked under his weight, as if it would fall apart at any moment.

The middle-aged man in military uniform finally removed his hand from the holster. He suddenly realized that in front of this man, it seemed that having a gun or not made no difference.

Mo Heng quickly shook his head, his expression a mixture of honor and apprehension: "No, no. Everyone here represents various factions. There are also some smaller factions that have clearly expressed their agreement to merge, but they haven't sent anyone today."

Luo Fei looked at him, making sure he wasn't lying, then turned to the people present and said, "Your presence shows you're willing to negotiate. That's a good thing. Now I'm giving you a chance to call back and confirm things. If you disagree, you can raise it now."

A series of dial tones immediately filled the cabin.

Someone took out their phone, walked to the corner of the room, lowered their voice, and spoke a long string of words quickly into the microphone in Burmese. Their expression gradually changed from tense to relaxed. Finally, they hung up the phone, walked back, and nodded to Luo Fei.

Someone was using a satellite phone; the antenna was very long. Standing in the doorway, the sunlight cast his long, thin shadow on the ground. He listened to what was said on the other end of the line, his expression changing several times, before finally saying, "I understand," and nodding as he walked back after hanging up.

Everyone's response was the same—agree.

The old man was the last to finish his call.

He closed his phone, put it in his pocket, and stood up, leaning on his cane.

He walked up to Luo Fei and extended his hand. The hand was very thin, the skin looked like it was directly pasted onto the bone, and the veins were clearly visible.

He grasped Luo Fei's hand, his voice not loud but full of energy: "On behalf of my people, I agree to the merger."

Luo Fei nodded, withdrew his hand, and turned to walk out of the wooden house. Mo Heng and the others followed closely behind, also exiting through the wooden door.

The training ground was behind the wooden house, a large expanse of flat yellow earth, where the soldiers usually did their morning exercises and training.

There was no training this afternoon, and the field was empty except for a few chickens pecking at food in a corner. Their yellowish-brown feathers were covered in dust and looked filthy.

Moheng shouted towards the edge of the field, and several soldiers ran over and chased the chickens away. The chickens flapped their wings, clucked, and ran off quickly.

Luo Fei walked to the center of the training field and stood facing everyone.

He glanced at Mohen.

Moheng nodded, shouted "Back off!" to the crowd, and pushed the people at the front a few steps back, causing the crowd to retreat further.

Luo Fei reached out his hand, and with a thought, began to take out weapons from his ring.

He took out all the light and heavy weapons from the ring, instantly filling most of the training ground.

Next came the armed helicopters.

Luo Fei only released a few – because the training ground was already full. Several dark green armed helicopters, their rotors folded, missile launchers mounted on either side of the fuselage, the cockpit windows gleaming with a bluish light in the sunlight.

The helicopter tires pressed into the loess soil, leaving shallow indentations. The soil was compacted, and tiny particles of soil were squeezed out from the edges of the tires, like a flattened donut.

The old man leaned on his cane, looking up at the helicopters, his mouth slightly open, his sparse beard almost transparent in the sunlight.

His cane slipped from his hand, fell to the ground, and kicked up a small cloud of dust. Someone nearby picked it up and handed it to him. It took him a while to react before he reached out, took it, and gripped it tightly.

The training ground was silent. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the mountain of weapons, on equipment that could only be seen in American military blockbusters.

Someone whispered something in Burmese, which roughly translates to "This is enough to fight a major war."

Luo Fei clapped his hands, the sound was not loud, but everyone could hear it clearly.

He turned to Mo Heng and addressed everyone present, saying, "From now on, Mo Heng will take over Myanmar's military affairs and will be responsible for unifying all armed forces. In terms of political affairs, an elders' council will be established, and major issues will be decided by vote. As for development direction—economy, military, education, and healthcare—we will completely replicate China's experience."

He glanced at the expressions of the representatives; some were shocked, some were confused, and some were bewildered, but no one raised any objections.

The old man was the first to nod.

Then he spoke, his voice soft but firm: "I agree."

The middle-aged man in military uniform also chimed in with "Agreed." Then, voices of agreement rose and fell in succession.

Luo Fei nodded, turned around and said to Mo Heng, "You handle the rest," and then disappeared from the training field with a thought.

Mohen stood in front of the weapons pile, his back to the helicopters, facing the representatives from all sides, straightened his back, and began to assign tasks.