Monday morning, five a.m. The sky was still dark.
On the streets of Chiang Mai, only a few streetlamps glowed. The air carried that tropical dawn dampness, sticky against the skin, making people restless.
Chen Rang was jolted awake by his phone alarm, rubbing his eyes. The moment he remembered he was heading with Brother Li to that rural village today, all sleepiness vanished—he was eager. He imagined this morning bus ride carrying him away from heartbreak, toward a brand-new life. He quickly got up to pack his things.
His backpack was ready from the day before—just a few changes of clothes and a charger. Brother Li had said, "The village has everything, no need to bring much." He believed him. He didn't even pack a jacket, his heart full of anticipation for the destination of this "morning bus."
Stepping into the hotel hallway, he found Brother Li waiting at the door. Same floral shirt, a black cloth bag in hand, that familiar simple smile on his face.
"Little brother, you're up? We gotta leave early, avoid the checkpoints. This morning bus is quick—should get us to the village by noon for lunch."
"Checkpoints?" Chen Rang blinked, asking instinctively, "What checkpoints?"
"Just border routine checks, no big deal." Brother Li waved it off, as casually as talking about the weather.
"Take the small roads, morning bus avoids traffic, quick. Don't waste time."
He stepped outside first, walking faster than usual, like he was rushing something—but never said where this bus was really headed.
A flicker of doubt passed through Chen Rang's mind. But then he thought of the village scenery, and the doubt sank back down. He quickened his pace and followed Brother Li—onto what he thought was a bus to "start over."
Outside the hotel sat a silver-gray van.
This was the so-called "morning bus." The body was worn, the windows black-tinted, nothing visible inside—like a sealed iron box.
A man in a black jacket with a buzzcut leaned against it, smoking. He saw Brother Li, gave a nod, but said nothing. His eyes were cold as ice, out of place in the tropical dawn.
"This is my buddy Ah Li. He's driving the morning bus today. Great driver, solid." Brother Li introduced, tone firm, leaving no room for doubt. "Hop in, morning bus doesn't wait. Sun'll be up soon."
Chen Rang hesitated.
He glanced at the tinted windows—so dark he could barely make out shapes inside. Looked like someone was already in the backseat, but he couldn't see who. Unease crept in, twining tighter.
"Bro… someone else in there? Wasn't this just for the two of us?" he asked, suspicion growing.
"They're friends from the village, came to meet us. Safer with more people on the morning bus." Brother Li laughed, slapping him on the back—harder than before, almost shoving him toward the van.
"Don't overthink. Get in. Morning bus has to leave town before the sun's up."
Ah Li swung open the passenger door, gesturing silently for him to enter. No expression on his face.
Gritting his teeth, Chen Rang bent down and climbed in.
He didn't know that this one step meant boarding a scam, a bus straight to the abyss.
As soon as he buckled his seatbelt, Brother Li and Ah Li slid into the back.
Through the rearview mirror, he saw them—and another man in a black hoodie.
The man's head hung low, face hidden. His hands rested stiffly on his knees, body frozen like a puppet. A suffocating despair radiated off him, completely out of place on this so-called "trip to beauty."
The van engine rumbled, heavy and low. The morning bus rolled away from the hotel.
Chen Rang looked outside—shops still shuttered, only street cleaners sweeping the sidewalks. Streetlamp light streaked across the windows, leaving faint shadows, as blurred as his own uncertainty about the future.
He wanted to chat with Brother Li about the village, ask how much longer the morning bus would take. But when he glanced at the mirror, he froze.
Brother Li wasn't smiling anymore. He was exchanging looks with Ah Li. Silent, serious looks. Something in it made Chen Rang's stomach twist. Even the air inside the van felt colder.
"Bro… how long's this bus ride gonna be?" he asked, trying to break the silence. His voice came out dry.
"Soon. Once we're out of the city, quick." Brother Li's voice came from the back, perfunctory.
"If you're tired, nap. I'll wake you when we're there."
Chen Rang fell quiet. He leaned back but couldn't sleep. He watched as the view shifted—from the busy city, to farmland on the outskirts, to desolate mountain roads.
This wasn't the way to any "village." The bus was heading somewhere more and more remote.
The road narrowed. Bumpy and full of potholes, the van rattled like it might fall apart. The sky brightened, but the trees grew denser, blocking out the light. Only fractured shadows hit the ground. No trace of "village beauty" anywhere.
He didn't know how much time passed before it hit him—this route was all wrong.
Too remote. No locals, no tourists.
He pulled out his phone—no signal, maps couldn't load. The morning bus was deep in a dead zone.
"Bro… did we take a wrong turn? My phone's dead, no signal. Where the hell is this bus going?" His grip on his backpack tightened, unease boiling over into fear.
Brother Li said nothing.
It was Ah Li who let out a cold laugh, voice raspy:
"Shut up and sit tight. Where this bus goes isn't your call."
Chen Rang's gut dropped.
He jerked his head toward the rearview mirror—Brother Li was staring right at him.
The kindness was gone from his eyes, replaced with cold calculation. A mocking smirk tugged at his lips, like laughing at Chen Rang's naivety.
"You'll know soon enough where we're going." Brother Li's voice was different now. No warmth, just icy superiority.
"Chen Rang, you really thought I was taking you to some village? The 'scenery' on this bus—it was all a lie."
The scam was finally exposed.
Chen Rang's heart exploded in panic. Cold shot from his feet to his scalp.
"Bro, what… what do you mean? Isn't this bus to the village?" His voice shook. He instinctively reached for the door handle, desperate to escape.
But the door wouldn't budge. Locked tight.
"Don't waste your strength. Doors are locked from the outside."
Brother Li reached into his black bag and pulled out a knife. He flipped it in his hand, the blade catching the dim light, stabbing Chen Rang's eyes with its gleam.
"Truth is, I'm no local guide. No buddy's wedding either. I work for Boss Khun Sa, recruiting people. And you—you're the 'goods' I caught on this bus."
"Khun Sa? 'Goods'?" Chen Rang's mind spun. The words didn't make sense, but the danger was unmistakable.
"Bro, don't joke with me. I'm just here traveling! I want to go home. My mom's waiting for me… this bus can't take me there!"
"Home?" Ah Li barked out a laugh, cruel and sharp.
"Once you're on this bus, forget home. Once we cross the border, you're no tourist. You're Boss Khun Sa's 'employee.' You'll work in the compound till you can't anymore."
"Compound? What compound?" Tears flooded Chen Rang's eyes.
Finally, he understood—he'd been conned. The trip he had pinned so much hope on was no path to paradise, but straight into the abyss. That "kindness," that "care"—all just the scam of this bus!
He lunged at the door, slamming the window with his fists, screaming:
"Let me out! You liars! This bus goes straight to hell! I'll call the cops!"
"Cops? Go ahead!"
Brother Li grabbed his hair and smashed his head against the glass.
*Bang!*
Everything went black. Pain ripped through his forehead, warm blood streaming down his cheek, blurring his vision. He couldn't see the road anymore—just knew this bus was speeding deeper into the abyss.
"This is no man's land!" Brother Li's voice was venomous.
"Call the cops all you want—no one'll save you! Keep screaming, and I'll toss you down the mountain for the wild dogs! This bus won't stop for you!"
Dizzy, blood dripping into his eyes, Chen Rang blinked at the rearview mirror.
Brother Li's face twisted with cruelty. Ah Li raised an iron rod in his hand.
And then, the hooded man who had sat silently all along… suddenly lifted his head.
Chen Rang saw clearly—tear-streaked face, eyes full of despair.
His lips moved, whispering:
"Don't fight. It'll only be worse. No one gets off this bus."
That was the moment Chen Rang broke.
He slumped back into the seat, tears mixing with blood, drowning in regret.
Regret for running away after heartbreak.
Regret for trusting a stranger's "kindness."
Regret for boarding this bus, turning his hope of "starting over" into a nightmare bound for hell.
The van jolted on.
The bus barreled deeper into the mountains, trees thickening, the road climbing steeper.
He knew—he was getting further from the promised "village," closer to that abyss they called the northern Myanmar scam compound.
He looked out the window.
Only one thought remained: *I have to survive.*
Even if this bus drives straight into hell, I'll find a way to jump. I must live. I must make it back home—no matter the cost.
In the back, Brother Li was already typing a message to "Scarface," a grin curling his lips:
"Goods on the bus are secure. Almost at the border. Get ready."
On the other end, Scarface replied with a single word—"Good"—and a cruel laughing emoji.
Another prey was on its way to the abyss.
Behind the iron fences of the northern Myanmar scam compounds, countless others like Chen Rang waited. All lured onto "morning buses." All to be "trained." All to fight for survival in hell.
And Chen Rang's suffering—was only beginning.
This bus to the abyss still had much darker miles ahead.