Evil Awe-Inspiring 133 Rat's Life

Four more days pasted, within those four days, the crew took a corpse out of the cabin and threw it into the sea again.

I learned that the dead are a frequent occurrence on this smuggling journey. Bottom-up conditions in the cabin are very poor, there is not enough fresh water and food, the temperature and ventilation conditions are bad, even breathing will feel very difficult. Those who are in poor health will have to stand up if they are ill at sea. Don't expect them to prepare doctor and medicines for you on this kind of smuggling s.h.i.+p! But that's not why I'm surprised. What really makes me feel cold is the att.i.tude these crews treat stowaways.

Everyone is also human, is the same kind. They just lock people up in the cabin, not allowed to come out. All this makes me feel like selling slaves in old movies! This makes me alienate Old Snake and his crew a little bit.

Later at dinner, Old Snake chats with me, and I can't help asking him: "If the people below died, would you not be able to get the money? Why not give them more food and water?"

He smiles, his smile is cold, and he gives me a strange look.

"You don't know the market." He answers lightly, then, smoking and pointing scornfully under the cabin, says, "These people are worthless."

I ask him deliberately, and he doesn't care, tells me a little bit about this business.

Smuggling is an unavoidable problem everywhere. From the perspective of East Asia, smuggling groups are divided into two, one is the mainland, another one is Southeast Asia.

"We are different from you." This is the old snake's original words.

In the 70s and 80s, many mainland smugglers went to Southeast Asia, HK, Macao, and, of course, j.a.pan and the United States. It can be said that it was a golden period of smuggling, mainly because the economy was underdeveloped, all aspects were relatively backward, and there were few channels of communication with the Western world. Most of the stowaways go out with the mentality of making a fortune.

In a ridiculous way, it was the "seller's market" and the golden age of smuggling groups. The price of smuggling to the United States was very high. And not allowed bargain, more importantly: first pay, then board!

The direct consequences of such actions were: Almost all smuggling groups at that time lacked the awareness of "after-sales service".

When people got on board, money was also received. Smuggling groups usually transport smugglers as slaves, using the most economical method. There were as many people in the cabin as possible. More people mean more money! Fresh water and food should be brought with less, because less good can bring more people! At that time, the death rate of stowaways was very high!

At this point, Old Snake seems to laugh and says, "Don't look at the news that the stowaways suffocated in the boat or in the car oil tank in the past two years. The number of dead people was much less than ten or twenty years ago. Only in that era, the media was not developed, so there was not so much publicity."

But with the economic boom of the 90s, going abroad in mainland is no longer difficult. Moreover, the increasing economic level, smuggling to foreign countries, also does not have a great attraction. During this period, the business of smuggling groups was relatively bleak.

It's like a joke, and it's like a confirmation of the truth that the market dominates everything. The smuggling business has gradually changed from the seller's market to the buyer's market. That sounds ridiculous. However, in order to attract business, smuggling groups have also taken many measures to adapt to the trend.

For example, the price changes, and even the situation of fighting price routes. "It's like a price war between travel agency companies." Old Snake says.

Secondly, improve the after-sales service. Over the past few years, there have been too many news about smuggling cause people death. Many people dare not go now. So nowadays, smuggling groups take the method of collecting half of the money first. After arriving at the destination safely, they take the other half then. In this way, they dare not abuse the stowaways as before until all the money has been received. Because if people die, they can't get the final payment!

"But, how about the two men who died last two days?" I frown and ask.

Old Snake's eyebrows raise, his thin face with a trace of cruelty and cunning: "I'm talking about the situation in your place. We are different with you!"

Old Snake explains that many small neighboring countries still lag behind in their economic standards, and the rules of smuggling business remain the same as those of more than a decade ago. It means smuggling groups get paid before stowaways borading, so that they don't care about the life or death of the stowaways at all. Anyway, the money has been received!

"The people on board are all from these small countries." Old Snake says lightly, "They all paid first and then got on board."

Then he casually mentions that there were some hard-hearted smuggling groups who collected money and then joined the local gangs at their destination to sell the people on the boat directly to the local gangs. There were some to sell to the drug plantations in South America. Then never knew whether they would die or not.

I'm so frightened to hear these words that I look into his eyes to feel a little more profound.

He laughs, pats himself on the chest and a.s.sure, "Don't worry. I am very trustworthy! You're fat fellow's friend. I won't sell you!"

Looking at this fellow's twinkling eyes and some obscene smiles, I say to myself that I will never believe in this bad guy's words!

Afterwards, I'm more alert to these people in my heart. I'm also alert when I go to bed at night. Originally, I was close to the crew, but now I am completely alienated from them. These are real killers!

Every day the s.h.i.+p is going north. The climate is getting less and less hot, even feels cool in the morning and evening!

I don't know if it's because I'm lucky. We've had a quiet journey without bad weather. Since the sixth day, Old Snake has been murmuring every day from the early morning and does not know what to say. It seems to be praying not to encounter a storm.

As the climate becomes cooler, I'm relieved that there was no more death in the cabin.

Although I told myself in my heart that it is not my business, but let me watch someone die. It's never a pleasant thing. Although Old Snake said those were people from other small countries.

One night, while I'm still sleeping, I'm awakened by the noise outside. I immediately turn down from the bed and see Old Snake opens the door and shouts at me, "Come out, you have arrived!"

I'm puzzled. I walk out of the room to the deck in a daze and see a scene that surprised me.

The motor of the fis.h.i.+ng s.h.i.+p I'm on goes out, and next is a larger s.h.i.+p, which looks dark under the night, with a metal sh.e.l.l and a much higher side than ours.

Now the two s.h.i.+ps are side by side, with two boards in the middle as a simple bridge.

Old Snake stands beside me, his hand touching his waist, with a gun pinned. Several of his crew members are also standing by with guns.

What surprises me even more is the door of the cabin under the fis.h.i.+ng s.h.i.+p opened! A group of people are coming out from below and moving to the big s.h.i.+p through the two boards!

In the darkness, I can't see how these stowaways look like. I can only see that most of them are men, few women, and they wear ordinary clothes. Everyone was carrying simple luggage, few things, no one speak at night, and all the queues are moving quietly.

They walk alone in their feet and feebleness, and with their heads down. Even if the people around them are too weak to almost fall down. No one will help each other!

On the big s.h.i.+p, I see several dark figures standing on the deck, guns in hand, and their eyes twinkle like wolves in the dim light.

"What the h.e.l.l is going on, Old Snake?" I look at the fellow around me with some vigilance.

He laughs with a little guilty, but then whispers, "I can only deliver here. You are going to transs.h.i.+p now. You take that s.h.i.+p and they will continue to take you to your destination."

I'm slightly annoyed: "Why haven't you mentioned this before? Ocean, does he know about your arrangements?"

Looking at his embarra.s.sing smile, my heart immediately s.h.i.+nes. This guy's arrangement, it seems that fat feloow does not know!

Strictly speaking, what Old Snake is doing now is a little like what is often said in business: traffickers, but the difference is that the traffickers sell goods to the next shop, while Old Snake sells stowaways!

Although I am a little angry, I wisely close my mouth. I know it's no use protesting at this time. These guys are killers. Now, what's more useful? If I annoy them, they would directly shoot me and throw me into the sea, there's no place to cry out for wrongdoing!

Old Snake accompanies me boarding on the big s.h.i.+p, and I find that the crews are all foreigners, the first of whom is a black man, bare as a half-black iron tower, with a cigar in his mouth, a fierce face, a clear-eyed eyes and a military dagger in his hand.

Old Snake goes up and says h.e.l.lo to him. I notice clearly that the black man looks at Old Snake with a trace of disdain in his eyes. Then Old Snake talks a lot to him and points at me. The black man does not speak from beginning to end, but looks at Old Snake coldly and waits for him to finish.

Finally, Old Snake wipes his sweat and turns to me and says, "OK, I've told them. You can go with them. Where are your belongings?"

I pat the bag on my back, and since I see the dead on board, I just took it with me.

The black man looks at me coldly for a moment. I can feel his eyes are cold. There's something gloomy in them. When he looks at me, I feel like I'm stared at by some kind of monster.

Old Snake talks to him for a while, basically Old Snake says, and the black man occasionally gives a hum.

Finally, Old Snake comes and pats me on the shoulder, with a hypocritical smile on his face: "Have a safe journey!"

Then he runs quickly back to his own s.h.i.+p and removes the boards connecting the two s.h.i.+ps.

"This b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" I can't help scolding.

Then I sigh and look at the black man. He's looking at me too, but then he turns away and seems not interested in me very much. A crew member comes over with a gun in his hand and points to the front. It means: go ahead.

I take a look at the dozens of stowaways who have entered through a cabin door. It seems that on this s.h.i.+p, they will continue to be locked in the cabin under the deck and live the same life as the ground rats.

The difference is that the crew around me signals me with a gun, which meant that I should go with them too!

I hesitate for a moment, trying to distinguish something. But the black man has gone and ignores me. And this crew member's face is brutal, it seems that if I don't move any more, he will not hesitate to come up and hit me with the b.u.t.t!

I finally recognize the situation I'm facing, the first cla.s.s treatment along the way is over here! Next I'm going to live with those stowaways in the cabin below.

I hold back my anger. I know the situation is pressing me. I have no room for resistance. I can only walk silently and follow the people outside the cabin slowly into the cabin leading to the lower deck. On both sides of the deck, the crew members urge me from time to time with guns.

I'm the last one to enter the cabin, probably because my movement is too slow. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d behind me kicks me. I stagger down and the door behind me is slammed and closed!

It's dark in the cabin. I can feel that the place is small and narrow. It's full of a strange stench. Dozens of people have scattered to find a place to sit down or lie down. It's even difficult to find a place to stay on the ground. The door is occupied by three four people. I was just about sitting down. They immediately come to push me and motion me to go inside.

The location of the original hatch entrance is very "delicious"! Because the crew outside come down every other time to deliver water and food, are casually thrown in the cabin doors, so the closer to the cabin doors, the more food and water can be grabbed. Only strong people can get this good position! The old and the weak are squeezed in.

The innermost place is the place where the air is the least circulating, usually the most stuffy, the coldest or the hottest!

I don't want to cause trouble. Instead of clas.h.i.+ng with the people at the door, I choose to make a temporary concession and walk into the cabin. The s.p.a.ce inside is not so crowded, but the air is stuffy and full of a musty odor. I'm almost suffocated. I sit down at random in an empty spot, but I hear a few coughs not far from me.

Intuitively, I can tell that it's a woman, who should be young. What's more, her cough sounds weak and sick!