The Dark, Terrifying Days After My Boss Sold Me to Northern Myanmar

Lei was dragged over to the table. The fat man held up a form and grinned at him. “College boy, you're in the scam-calling unit from now on. Remember, you have to make at least fifty calls a day. If your take is under two thousand yuan, you'll be going to the water dungeon tonight to ‘cool off.’” He pointed outside the window. Beyond the barbed wire was a patch of wasteland, and the faint sound of a man screaming could be heard. Fu Lei followed his gesture and saw a young man pinned to the ground as a guard pressed a high-voltage baton against his back. The screams sounded exactly like the ones he'd heard the night before, when Xiao Wang was dragged away. “What are you staring at?” The fat man rapped his baton on the table. “Go register over there. Report to the scam-calling building at eight tomorrow morning!” Fu Lei turned to leave. As he passed the women's quarters, Lili tugged at his sleeve again. This time, she slipped him a plastic bottle half-filled with cold water. In a place where even the tap water stank, half a bottle of cold water was worth more than gold. After leaving the examination room, Old Zhou came over and spoke in Burmese. “The scam-calling unit is rough, but it's still better than the mines. People in the mines don't last three months. As for the scam-calling unit...” He glanced at the plastic bottle in Fu Lei's hand. “You've got a tough life, kid. Maybe you'll last until things blow over.”