ã€ŠVenetian Redã€‹


 Chapter 1 Dark Crusade

    Chapter 1 Dark Crusade

    Somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains, 2398 AD. A villager hauled goods in a horse-drawn wagon, the landscape a patchwork of nature reclaiming what was left of the old world. Car wrecks, repurposed as fences or piled high like scrap-metal sculptures, dotted the hills. Ziplines crisscrossed the valleys, used for everything from transporting goods to ferrying children to the makeshift school, where lessons focused on survival: archery, cooking, self-defense, and how to spot a mutation before it sprouted extra limbs.

    A giant drone hummed overhead, carrying passengers to a nearby military base. A Hind helicopter and a few armored vehicles sat in the hangar, gleaming under the morning sun.

    A man dismounts from the drone, stretching his arms. He¡¯s wearing a worn leather jacket and has long, wavy hair. Flanking him is a group of people in dark cloaks and mismatched military gear¡ªthese are the Wanderers.

    Alam strides into an office, passing recruits training with bows and gunpowder in the field, while officers simulate warfare scenarios in virtual reality rooms.

    He reaches the top floor, where a glass hall offers a stunning view of the mountain peaks, their snow-capped summits glistening in the sunlight. He pauses for a moment, taking in the scene¡ªthe scattered remnants of civilization, the distant crackle of gunfire from the training grounds.This is the Wanderers'' domain now,he thinks, feeling a mix of pride and responsibility wash over him. But ruling can get boring.I need some action to keep from getting rusty.

    He entered a private office, the walls lined with maps and tactical displays. A woman stood by the window, her back to him. She wore a black veil that concealed her face, but her posture was rigid, almost tense. Only the pale skin of her hands and the crimson glow of her enhanced eyes, visible through the thin fabric of the veil, were visible.

    Carmelita turned as Alam entered, a slow, deliberate movement that seemed to assess him from head to toe. A faint smile played on her lips, barely visible beneath the veil. ¡°Well, well,¡± she drawled, her voice laced with amusement. ¡°If it isn¡¯t the man who stole my job¡­ and my heart. Though I¡¯m not sure which was the greater theft.¡± She paused, her red eyes twinkling. ¡°You are interesting, that¡¯s undeniable. Though sometimes I wonder if ¡®interesting¡¯ is just another word for ¡®troublesome¡¯.¡±

    ¡°I''m always interesting,¡± Alam replies, walking up behind her and giving her a hug.

    Carmelita gasps softly. ¡°A clingy one, eh?¡± she smirks, her lips visible through the semi-transparent veil.

    ¡°Yep. I¡¯m tired of all the shenanigans around here. How about we expand to the east?¡± Alam suggests.

    ¡°Hm¡­¡± Carmelita ponders. ¡°The East¡­ They say the land beyond the Don holds remnants of the old world¡¯s ingenuity, lost technologies¡­ and its follies.¡± A sly smile played on her lips. ¡°Perhaps a journey to the past is what you need.¡±

    ¡°Follies? I¡¯ve heard about of pre-war tech. That¡¯s what we need to rebuild, to truly secure our future.¡± Alam replies.

    ¡°The past is a dangerous place, Alam. It offers both solutions and warnings. Some doors are best left unopened.¡± Carmelita warns.

    she ponders for a moment. ¡°We can try expanding east, but I think we need a new member for that,¡±

    ¡°Do we have a poor state right now?¡± Alam asks.

    ¡°We have enough budget but not enough manpower. We need at least 10-20 new members for expansion,¡± she replies, checking a file on her table. ¡°Maybe one or two of them will bring some money too. Do you have candidates in mind?¡±

    ¡°Twenty? We need a hundred! Hehe,¡± Alam jokes.

    ¡°Hundred? Do we have enough room and equipment for them?¡± she asks, smirking again. ¡°Alright, a hundred it is, but you better find someone who will bring in more money. I don¡¯t want to burden our economy. Can you do that?¡±

    ¡°We can sell our latest loot, but of course, we should only sell our light arms¡­ or just mold them into farm tools,¡± Alam suggests.

    ¡°Farm tools, huh? That¡¯s an interesting idea. We can sell them at a cheaper price but in larger quantities. Not a bad idea,¡± she grins wider. ¡°We can also use that loot as a reward to attract some worthy recruits. This is great! But first, let me see the loot, and then I¡¯ll determine the price we should sell.¡±

    Alam breaks the hug and raises his eyebrows. ¡°But seriously, are we poor? Is there corruption? I thought we were rich now,¡± he pouts.

    Carmelita chuckles at his expression. ¡°We¡¯re not poor, but we¡¯re not rich either. We¡¯re in a medium state. We can¡¯t just say, ¡®Oh, we won the war against the Yellow Nation, so we have lots of money to throw around.¡¯ We need to use it wisely. There¡¯s still some corruption here and there, after all.¡±

    ¡°Hm¡­ I wonder why they forbid AI tech. We need that to track our expenses,¡± Alam muses.

    ¡°AI tech was forbidden because it¡¯s too risky. AI is smart, but too smart for us to control, and there¡¯s a chance it could rebel against us. We still don¡¯t know if it would do good or bad,¡± she sighs. ¡°You really like high tech, huh? What¡¯s with this obsession with AI and machines all of a sudden?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m a technocrat. I¡¯m just pragmatic. Humans are naughty creatures. They need¡­ constant reminders,¡± Alam winks. ¡°Plus, it¡¯s not like they¡¯re going to take over us like in Terminator, you know?¡± alam then wiggle his eyebrows

    ¡°Humans are naive and foolish, I agree. But I still don¡¯t like the idea of letting machines rule us. I¡¯m not religious, but I trust humans to rule ourselves,¡± she replies with a smirk. ¡°Maybe if we use some AI for calculating expenses and other non-important things, I¡¯ll think about it. you can convice me easily you know¡±

    Alam grins. ¡°What do you mean I convince you easily?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a good persuader. With your words and your act, it¡¯s like you just make puppy eyes and pout,¡± she chuckles. ¡°And you¡¯re kinda cute in my eyes, which makes it easier to convince me than others.¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°Yes! I will conquer the world with my cuteness¡­ and bullets! Hehe,¡± Alam declares.

    ¡°You forgot your charm point, you know,¡± she says, looking at him with an amused expression. ¡°Do you think only cuteness and bullets will make you succeed? You really underestimate people¡¯s lust. Charm is a very important weapon for seduction.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever. Just bring me a hundred men for the next campaign¡­ please,¡± Alam pleads.

    ¡°Hmmm, alright, but first you need to promise me one thing,¡± she smirks.

    ¡°What? Say it, woman,¡± Alam replies.

    ¡°You have to spend time with me~,¡± she says with a sly smile. ¡°After our success in getting a hundred men, you have to accompany me somewhere.¡±

    ¡°Nyooohhhhhhh!¡± Alam exclaims.

    ¡°Awww, what¡¯s that? Don¡¯t like spending time with me?¡± she pouts. ¡°I think you enjoy it when we¡¯re alone and intimate~.¡±

    Timeskip. Alam, now with his hundred warriors, is ready to embark on their new journey. He checks his intercom, studying the eastern map. The land is shrouded in mystery, possibly even home to mutants, but his goal is clear: to find valuable pre-war tech for his people.

    The Wanderers set off in their buggies, Mad Max-style cars, and military-grade armored vehicles, passing through villages and towns. As they roll by, the locals cheer for them. The people see the Wanderers as protectors against the bandits and aggressive warlords that once roamed the region. Now, they feel free from tyranny.some villagers offer them food or express their gratitude.

    Despite this newfound freedom, the region is still recovering from the devastation of World War III and the EMP collapse. With electric generators and nuclear reactors failing, people have turned to windmills and biogas for energy. Gasoline has become scarce and expensive, but the locals remain hopeful that one day, they¡¯ll reclaim their glory days.

    To the west, the Wanderers faced the Yellow Nation, a powerful nomadic group led by Bayarl Khan. Equipped with armored trains and remnants of NATO ground forces, they held a significant advantage in both numbers and technology. Only the Carpathian Mountains, Carpathia''s natural fortress, kept them at bay. Even with the current truce, border skirmishes were frequent, fueled by the Yellow Nation¡¯s ingrained ¡°eye for an eye¡± mentality and long-simmering clan feuds for generations.

    For now, Alam knew the region was unstable. In his mind, true power came from a combination of economic strength and technological advancement. One fueled the other. Conquest was the only way to secure both.

    Reaching the Don River, Wanderers tested the water for radiation. The readings were low¡ªa sign of the land slowly healing. One of them filled a purification bottle, watching the water steam and condense before taking a cautious sip. ¡°Clean,¡± he announced. ¡°We¡¯re good for water heading east.¡±

    From atop his armored vehicle, Alam lowered his Red Nation-made binoculars. They were a gift, but also a reminder of their dependence. The Wanderers needed to become self-sufficient, to control their own destiny.

    Beyond the river lies the eastern wasteland¡ªa harsh winter landscape inhabited by aggressive people but rich in resources and treasures from pre war bunkers. It¡¯s the perfect place for someone like him, always looking for the next adventure.

    ¡°Alright, Wanderers! Let¡¯s go conquer this land!¡± Alam raises his sword toward the horizon, rallying his troops for the journey ahead.

    They were trying to find a way to cross the Don River, but most of the bridges were destroyed. Just when it seemed like they were out of luck, they stumbled upon a tribe guarding one of the remaining bridges. The tribe was armed with old AKs, and an APC without wheels was parked nearby, serving as a static defense.

    Alam approached the bridge, his armored vehicle rumbling to a halt. The old man with the beard straightened, his eyes widening slightly as he saw Alam. A faint sigh escaped his lips.

    ¡°Alam,¡± the old man greeted, his voice tinged with weariness. ¡°Always pushing your luck, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to cross the bridge,¡± Alam declared.

    The old man with the beard, who seemed to be the leader of the group, stepped forward. ¡°Ah, Alam. Looking for conquest, are you? Have you never heard the legend of the White Witch beyond this river?¡±

    Alam snorted. ¡°I¡¯ve killed a lot of witches in the past,¡± he smirked. ¡°I don¡¯t fear anything.¡±

    The man shook his head. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. Beyond the dark woods, mutants and supersoldiers guard the White Witch. You¡¯ll lose your men... even Bayarl Khan fears this land.¡±

    ¡°Good! Then I¡¯ll make history by conquering this place,¡± Alam grinned,

    The man shook his head again. ¡°This is no ordinary witch. She is the embodiment of the past¡¯s hubris, the price of tampering with what should have been left alone. Her guardians are not mere beasts, but reflections of the consequences.¡±

    alam just blinked several times. and unfazed

    The old man sighed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You always were one for grand pronouncements. Well, I suppose nothing I say will change your mind. The toll for the bridge is one credit per man.¡±

    Alam nodded. "Consider it a down payment. I''m also looking to hire a few good fighters. A thousand credits for those willing to join me."

    The old man¡¯s eyebrows shot up. He exchanged a few quick words with his tribesmen in their own language, then turned back to Alam. ¡°A thousand, eh? You¡¯re serious. Alright. I can recommend some of the younger lads. They''re itching for a bit of excitement. It''s not about the money," he added, a glint in his eye that suggested otherwise.. "It''s¡­ well, you did help us out with those bandits a while back. We don¡¯t forget that.¡±

    After a short wait, a group of young men arrived, carrying a mix of bolt-action rifles and AKs. The old man clapped one of them on the shoulder. ¡°Go with Alam. He¡¯ll keep you out of too much trouble¡­ hopefully.¡±

    Alam nodded, a confident smile spreading across his face. ¡°Wise move. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll make sure they return to their families and wives¡­¡± He glanced at the young men, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°...and future wives. Plenty of adventure to be had before then.¡±

    The Wanderers and their new tribal allies crossed the bridge, passing through abandoned towns and cities. The atmosphere was serene and peaceful, birds chirping in the woods. So peaceful, in fact, that Alam almost started to think this whole ¡°conquest¡± thing was going to be a relaxing vacation.

    They reached a clearing near the edge of the dense woods, forming a standard defensive circle with their armored vehicles. Tents sprung up within, fires were lit, and the combined group settled in for the night, That thought lasted precisely until sunrise.

    A commotion jolted him awake. He burst from his tent to find a vehicle ablaze, other Wanderers scrambling with buckets and anything else they could find to douse the flames threatening the nearby tents.. ¡°What the fuck!¡± Alam exclaimed, throwing his arms up in confusion.

    Once the fire was finally put out, Alam and his officers assessed the situation. Jax, a bulky man with right mechanical arm, reported, ¡°Sir, we lost 7 Wanderers and 4 tribesmen. 6 others are still missing. One light vehicle is out of action, and the attackers are unknown. All the victims had their throats cut. It¡¯s like a beast did this.¡±

    Alam rubbed his forehead in frustration. ¡°We already scanned this area with drones. Let¡¯s use thermal and infrared drones to locate the attacker.¡±

    While mechanics jury-rigged the new tech onto a drone, Alam watched the grim task of burying the dead in a shallow grave. He grimaced at the deep claw marks on the victims. Definitely not your average woodland creature.

    By midday, the enhanced drone returned, revealing hidden bunkers in the woods. And tracks. Lots of tracks. A mix of wolf and bear prints, but¡­ bigger. Much bigger.

    ¡°Good. We¡¯re going on the offensive,¡± Alam declared. ¡°Order our men to arm themselves with makeshift spears, bayonet attachments or anything pointy for their rifles. We¡¯re going to hunt the skinwalkers.¡± He frowned as he looked at the map,

    By afternoon, the Wanderers had the target area surrounded. It was a makeshift base of some kind, a bunker hunkered down amidst overgrown barbed wire and the skeletal remains of abandoned warehouses. The lengthening shadows were starting to give the place an eerie feel.

    ¡°We must finish this before night falls. Get moving, men!¡± Alam ordered as he took his place in the second line. As they got closer to the bunker door, Suddenly, a flash of white erupted from the bunker¡¯s dome. A massive white tiger, easily twice the size of a normal tiger, landed with a resounding thump, its claws scraping against the metal.

    A collective gasp swept through the Wanderers. Before they could fully react, a low growl rumbled from behind the tiger. A wolf, equally massive and clearly mutated, its fur matted and scarred, emerged onto the dome, its eyes glowing with a feral intensity. The sheer size of the creatures¡ªtheir muscles bulging, their teeth bared¡ªmade it clear they were far from natural.

    ¡°Fuck... mind-controlled animals,¡± Alam muttered.

    ¡°Do we attack, sir? Or flee?¡± one Wanderer stammered, clearly rattled by the sight. Alam was momentarily stunned.

    the wolf leaped from the dome, landing among the front line of Wanderers. The tiger followed, its powerful legs propelling it forward. ¡°Attack!¡± Alam shouted, snapping back to reality.

    Gunfire erupted as the wolf lunged at one of the Wanderers. A bayonet struck the wolf in the chest, and the tribesmen and Wanderers formed a shield wall to fend off the beasts while others picked them off with their rifles.

    As the sky darkened, all the beasts were finally killed. Alam took a deep breath, checking his rifle magazine. ¡°We¡¯re not done yet. Set a perimeter around the bunker, and the rest follow me to explore inside!¡±

    A loud bang echoed as the bunker door blew inward, dust and debris raining down. They entered the damp corridor, the air thick with the smell of mildew and something¡­ else.

    Alam found a room filled with monitors and ancient computer terminals. His mechanic,, quickly got to work, bypassing the security protocols. The screens flickered to life, revealing a network of cameras within the bunker and, more disturbingly, connections to a hidden lab. Alam grinned. ¡°Jackpot.¡±

    But his expression quickly turned to a frown as he noticed the twisted experiments taking place. Security cameras in the lab showed some Wanderers and tribesmen who had gone missing, lying on beds while mechanical arms ravaged their bodies. Another camera displayed animals undergoing brain surgery.

    ¡°Fuck... we... we will kill them all,¡± Alam said, his eyes filled with anger as he saw a woman in the lab casually eating cake beside a dead body from the experiments

    alam clap his forehead. trying calm himself. he take a long breath and out. a forced smile on his face. ¡°Well, then,¡± he said, his voice dangerously calm. ¡°Looks like someone¡¯s been very, very naughty.¡±

 Chapter 2 The Frozen Heart

    The eastern wasteland¡ªa stretch of land spanning from Central Asia to Eastern Europe¡ªwas a patchwork of arid plains and crumbling ruins. Here, rogue generals had carved out petty kingdoms, ruling over isolated domains. The EMP collapse had been a great leveler, but some pre-war technology had survived, locked away in fortified bunkers. These bunkers became treasure troves, allowing the nine major nations to salvage and repurpose what they could.

    Inside one such bunker, the Wanderers moved through dimly lit corridors, a buzz of anticipation in the air. Outside, their armored vehicles¡ªdonations from the Red Nation¡ªstood sentinel. Technicians in mismatched gear, rifles slung over their shoulders, crowded around ancient terminals, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and professional curiosity.

    ¡°I¡¯ve only seen this stuff in textbooks,¡± one muttered, carefully brushing dust off a monitor. ¡°Maybe we actually struck gold.¡±

    The post-EMP world was a testament to human adaptability. The Yellow Nation, embracing their nomadic lifestyle, had repurposed old railway lines as makeshift supply routes, their lighter, more agile vehicles navigating the decaying infrastructure. The Wanderers, on the other hand, relied on heavier, Red Nation-designed engines, prioritizing durability over speed. Each faction had found its own way, making do with what they had.

    The Wanderers moved through dimly lit corridors, the air thick with the smell of ozone and something faintly metallic. Outside, their armored vehicles¡ªdonations from the Red Nation¡ªstood sentinel. Technicians in mismatched gear, rifles slung over their shoulders, crowded around ancient terminals, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and professional curiosity. They reached a massive steel door, reinforced with thick plating and secured by multiple locking mechanisms.

    ¡°This is it,¡± Jax said, running a hand over the cold metal. ¡°Main lab. If anything survived the Collapse, it¡¯s behind this.¡±

    Alam circled the door, examining the seams and hinges. ¡°Looks like they expected company.¡± He tapped a spot near the bottom. ¡°Breaching charges?¡±

    ¡°Already setting them,¡± a Wanderer replied, attaching sticky explosives to the door. ¡°But if that doesn¡¯t work¡­¡± He gestured to a large backpack one of the men was carrying. ¡°¡­we brought the backup plan.¡±

    Jax watched the Wanderers plant the explosives, a flicker of unease in his eyes. He turned to Alam. ¡°You won¡¯t¡­ take any personal revenge in there, will you?¡±

    Alam rubbed his hand absently, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in his fingers. ¡°These psychos are remnants of the old world,¡± he said, his voice flat. ¡°But I¡¯ll try¡­ to be civilized.¡± He paused, his gaze hardening. ¡°We need what¡¯s in there. No unnecessary mess.¡±

    In her laboratory¡ªmarked by a prominent tusk symbol on the door¡ªRuan Mei, a woman with dark purple hair and a white lab coat stained with old blood, set down her scalpel.

    ¡°The experiment has ended. Time to take a break. I just can''t miss this freshly made dessert,¡± she muttered,

    Suddenly, the lab door was smashed open, and a group of soldiers with shields stormed in.they wear a dark cloak with dark drip. and At the center of this armed group stood a man in a black leather jacket with black wavy long hair¡ªAlam.

    "Hey, are you the war criminal who experiments on half-dead prisoners for the sake of curiosity?" Alam demanded.

    Ruan Mei, unfazed, replied, "Yes. A little harmless experiment wouldn''t be so bad, would it?"

    "I see. I''m here for justice," Alam stated.

    "You''ve come to the wrong person, then. I have no remorse for my actions," Ruan Mei retorted.

    "Get her, boys!" Alam commanded, and armed men rushed toward Ruan Mei.

    in flash, A jagged wall of ice erupted from the polished floor, a crystalline barrier slamming into the advancing wanderers. The impact sent them reeling, their bodies crashing against the frozen surface with sickening crunches. Some were thrown back, limbs twisted at unnatural angles, while others remained plastered against the ice, their dark cloaks stained crimson.

    "This might be a lot more fun than I initially thought," Ruan Mei mused.

    Alam''s jaw dropped. "What is this madness?"

    "A demonstration of my power," Ruan Mei declared, as a circle formed around Alam, and ice spikes rose to surround him. "And a warning that your efforts are futile."

    "I see... This person is one of their augmented!. Spread out! Shoot them in the face!" Alam ordered, and the armed men started shooting at Ruan Mei.

    A wall of ice blocked all attacks, shattering and creating a huge wall of debris. "Your bullets aren''t the only things that are cold and deadly, you know," Ruan Mei taunted, forming a small sphere of ice in her right hand and throwing it like a projectile into the ground.

    "Wear your masks!" Alam shouted, throwing a grenade and its release a green smoke.

    "I see that your method of attack is by blinding your opponents. This won''t work well against me," Ruan Mei commented.

    The mist made her a little drowsy, causing her to almost lose her balance temporarily as she coughed for breath. "You know... That was a good move. Good enough that I haven''t seen this technique before," Ruan Mei admitted.

    "Okay... Capture her!" Alam ordered.

    As the warriors rushed to capture her, The floor beneath their feet transformed into a sheet of brittle ice. Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface, then with a sharp crack, the ice gave way, sending the soldiers tumbling into the freezing chasm below

    "You''re persistent, I''ll grant you that. But you really should choose your actions more carefully next time," Ruan Mei advised.

    "Damn, this creature is harder... Prepare the RPG!" Alam cursed.

    The armed men grabbed RPGs, arming them and loading shells into the tubes, aiming for Ruan Mei while hiding behind the debris.

    "Hehe... Don''t shoot at the same time. Give the rocket a chance to pierce that ice," Alam instructed.

    The men fired at Ruan Mei''s position, and both rockets collided with her position, piercing her ice wall but not causing any damage to her. "Hm. Nice attempt, but you failed," Ruan Mei remarked, as the ice quickly rebuilt itself around her position, even thicker and harder than before.

    " Just keep shooting the ceiling!" Alam decided,

    The armed men then started shooting upwards from Ruan Mei''s position, but the shards of ice only made the ceiling thicker and more stable. "Your effort so far is quite admirable, but you''re getting on my nerves," Ruan Mei taunted.

    Alam noticed an air ventilation in the corner of the room. "That''s it... That''s her weakness. Don''t let any water flow into this room," he instructed.

    Ruan Mei simply blocked off the air vent and froze it solid with her ice. "As I said, your efforts are quite admirable. However, trying to stop air flow isn''t going to help when the air vent itself is frozen over and sealed. Your desperation is also showing," she mocked.

    Alam stared at the rapidly reforming ice, a flicker of genuine bewilderment crossing his face. "So¡­ you just¡­ make it?"

    Ruan Mei arched an eyebrow. "Is that so difficult to comprehend?"

    "Flamethrowers," Alam barked. "Let''s see how much you like a dry heat." He pulled on his gas mask.

    A faint blue glow emanated from the remaining ice shards, and a wave of frigid air washed over the room. Ruan Mei¡¯s lips curled into a thin smile. "Such¡­ crude tactics."

    The room turned frigid as humidity evaporated, and droplets of water fell like rain. "You might want to reconsider," Ruan Mei suggested.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    "So, want to surrender?" Alam asked, aiming his gun at her as her ice shield began to crack.

    "That won''t help you. I don''t need air, and I can rebuild my shield anytime. Surrender? Never. You''ve proven your valor, but you can''t win," Ruan Mei declared, firing a bolt of cold that temporarily disabled Alam''s gun.

    "I see... RPG team!" Alam unfazed, and draw second pistol, then commanded, and the flamethrower crew launched a barrage of rockets at Ruan Mei.

    The rockets struck her, but her thick ice shield remained intact. Though the force pushed her back, she quickly recovered. "The RPGs are useless against me," she stated.

    Alam muttered, "This person is not human... a monster. Jax, get the breaching kit." He then turned back to Ruan Mei, a grim look on his face. "Let''s see how you handle something a little hotter."

    "I prefer ''superhuman.'' But I must admit, your persistence is impressive," Ruan Mei replied.

    "No, a monster," Alam insisted, crossing his arms.

    "Fine, call me a ''monster.'' But you have to admit, my powers are amazing," Ruan Mei conceded.

    "Pathetic," Alam retorted, throwing a bottle toward her.

    Ruan Mei caught it and crushed it effortlessly. "This won''t do anything. You''re starting to bore me."

    Alam then covered her with Thermite powder. "Do you know what''s in that bottle?"

    "Yes, a flammable substance that burns at high temperatures. But you can''t hurt me," Ruan Mei replied.

    Alam detonated the bottle, igniting the Thermite and causing her skin to melt.

    Ruan Mei raised her hand, instantly freezing a wall of water around her to wash away the powder. "Your weapons are still useless against me," she declared.

    "I see... Here, drink this," Alam said, offering her a potion by throw it above icy wall again.

    Ruan Mei sighed and took the potion, drinking it. "What is it?" she asked after unconsciously consume the mysterious potion.

    "Fool..." Alam smirked as Ruan Mei''s body started to become limp.

    As the effects of the potion kicked in, Ruan Mei struggled to stay conscious and fell to the ground. "Gah... What-- What did you--" she gasped.

    "You''re strong, but your arrogance and dumbness... Are your demise. You lose..." Alam stated.

    Ruan Mei tried to push herself up, but the potion was having its way. She slumped back to the floor, consciousness slipping. "I... refuse..." she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.

    "Goodbye," Alam said simply. Ruan Mei went limp.

    The Wanderers cautiously circled her unconscious form, then quickly moved to secure her. Alam took a deep breath, surveying the chaotic lab. Jax appeared behind him, his hand resting on the small of his back. "We lost some good people," Jax muttered.

    Alam nodded, picking up some pristine documents from a nearby desk. He flipped through them, brows furrowed. Jax watched him for a moment. "How¡­ did you have a sleeping drugs on you?"

    Alam glanced up, a faint smile playing on his lips. "For avoiding boring sex."

    Jax blinked, then let out a short chuckle. Alam¡¯s smile widened slightly before he returned to the documents, his mind still reeling.

    later. alam ask reinforment from carmelita. soon the hind helicopter landed on area. pick up ruan mei and alam. while jax tasked to secure the region.

    A few hours later, Alam saw her with a bunch of people wearing lab suits. "Hey... What do you feel now?" he asked.

    Ruan Mei''s eyesight was a little foggy at first, but she could clearly see the many lab people walking about and examining the machines around her. "What... Happened? And why did you bring me here? What are those devices doing here?" she questioned.

    "Those devices will shortly disable your movement. They hijack your brain cells, hehe," Alam explained.

    "Then... You''ve trapped me here against my will. I cannot move, and I cannot resist against you. Why? What is this all about?" Ruan Mei demanded.

    "Yes... My nation is about to be invaded with greater military power such free world. And I noticed you guys are doing some naughty science... So, I brought justice and won''t let my enemy capture your tech," Alam revealed.

    Ruan Mei''s hand tightened on the armrest, her knuckles whitening. The corner of her lip twitched, and her eyes narrowed to slits. "So, you intend to use my genius for your own purposes?" she asked, her voice laced with contempt.

    Alam shook his head. "No, not my purposes... but our purposes. If my enemy captures you, you''ll end up in a worse situation."

    Ruan Mei sighed. "Then you plan to use my intelligence for your own country''s benefit. Well, my genius is not something I''m willing to give you for free. No one in the history of the world has managed to control me."

    "Hoh... Well, if I can''t control you, at least I saved you from those... heh," Alam replied.

    Ruan Mei laughed sarcastically. "Oh... So you saved me? You think I would thank you for trapping me here against my will and using this as a way to control and use me for your own selfish purposes and for your own country?"

    "Yes... So tell me about yourself. Are you a part of Mammoth or just a different branch and faction?" Alam asked.

    "The Genius Society is an independent organization that doesn''t answer to any government or governing body. As for myself, I am one of the original creators and scientists of the Simulated Universe. It is not a simple feat to be able to create an entire universe with countless Aeons and planets. I worked hard to reach where I am currently. This organization''s research and technology is far beyond any other organizations'' capabilities," Ruan Mei explained.

    "Yeah, yeah... Delusional. You created those virtual worlds for recreational purposes. That''s how your finances still keep flowing. And of course, you use it for ambiguous science projects," Alam retorted.

    "That is true to an extent... The creation of the Simulated Universe is indeed just a side project to experiment with, to fulfill my personal curiosity, and for fun. However, the creation of the Aeons and the planets within the Simulated Universe has provided tremendous value in terms of technology development as well as research for many other projects in the Genius Society. Although it''s not as prestigious as a lot of the other projects, the Simulated Universe project has its own value that cannot be overlooked," Ruan Mei clarified.

    "Well, what''s your goal?" Alam pressed.

    "I''ve always been curious about the possibilities and potential of a realistic, living, breathing universe. For example, would sentient beings emerge as a by-product of a universe''s evolution? Could it lead to intelligent life? Would they possess their own unique culture, history, and civilization? So I decided to create one and see how it''d pan out," Ruan Mei shared.

    "Umm, what? What even does all that mean? Use simple words, please," Alam said, confused.

    Ruan Mei sighed. "I''m trying to say that I was curious what would happen if I created a realistic, living, breathing universe. You could see it as a big experiment. And the experiment has proven to be quite successful.

    The living beings within the Simulated Universe have gained consciousness and their own free will. They''ve created their own civilization and are now growing and evolving naturally, like how it normally works in reality."

    "I see... And what does that have to do with your non-human abilities or human experiments? That is completely unrelated," Alam questioned.

    "To give the experiment more life-like realism, I decided to infuse the universe with fragments of my own essence. This allowed it to behave in a significantly more realistic and natural fashion, including its inhabitants. As for the human experiments, that is just for my own pleasure. While I am fascinated with the evolution and nature of human beings, I sometimes cannot resist the urge to experiment with them myself. My other colleagues in the Genius Society tend to frown upon this behavior of mine as they see it as unethical, but I don''t really find it an issue," Ruan Mei admitted.

    Alam burst into laughter. "Ahahaha... I see... You amuse me. I need to punish you for that."

    Ruan Mei started laughing. "You really think you can punish me? I have already gone through much worse punishment than anything you could possibly inflict onto me. but please. Amuse me."

    "Oho... How about if that punishment is inside your brain instead? I can recreate what hell is inside your dreams," Alam suggested.

    "You can certainly try. I''ve already suffered plenty of torment and pain in the past. I highly doubt anything you''d be able to conjure up would be capable of doing much to me, unless it''s something completely out of the ordinary or unexpected. But I''m curious as to what you have in store, so go ahead and do your worst. Just be prepared for me to mock you for your pitiful attempts," Ruan Mei taunted.

    "I see... You are a masochist, aren''t you?" Alam smirked.

    Ruan Mei laughed. "I would hardly call myself a masochist. I just have a high tolerance for pain. However, I''m really enjoying this. Your attempts at inflicting torment on me have been entertaining so far. So keep it coming."

    "Yeah... That''s what a masochist would do," Alam chuckled.

    "Well, then consider me a masochist if you''d like. If that''s the case, I''m sure you''ll have a lot more fun playing with me, right?" Ruan Mei teased.

    Alam shook his head. "No, I have a bigger purpose to defend my land than torture a mad scientist like you."

    Ruan Mei pouted. "Aww... And here I thought we were at least having a bit of fun. Well, if you insist on being a boring fellow, so be it. But before you go, I''d like to ask you one last question."

    "What?" Alam asked.

    "I''m curious about the reason why you are so bent on defending your land. Why is it so precious to you?" Ruan Mei inquired.

    "It''s my comrades... my friends... and my family... my soul," Alam replied, his voice filled with determination.

    Ruan Mei sighed. "I see. So it''s not really about the land itself. But rather those who inhabit the land, correct?"

    Alam nodded. "Well, of course, it''s just a piece of dirt... What really matters is who is living on it."

    "I see. Then I assume that the nation you are protecting is your home too?" Ruan Mei inquired.

    "Of course," Alam replied. "Now... Don''t you want to protect someone you love as well?"

    Ruan Mei scoffed. "Of course I care about my loved ones. But the difference between your situation and mine is that the nation I call home is not under threat of invasion. Therefore, I cannot relate to your desire to defend your home."

    Alam chuckled. "Hoho... What a narrow-minded view. After they''re done with my nation, their next target is your land... Little girl..."

    Ruan Mei laughed. "You overestimate your importance. Your little nation is barely a blip on our radar, a mere annoyance to some of my colleagues. And as for ''little girl''¡ªI''ve surpassed anything you could imagine."

    Alam smirked. "Then explain how my ''children playing with toys'' breached your heavily fortified lab with minimal losses. How will you fare against a real invasion?"

    Ruan Mei chuckled. "Your ''special ops'' were a triviality. We have no need for fortifications against such paltry forces. I alone could dismantle your entire military."

    Alam raised an eyebrow. "And what about the tech I took? Did you forget that little detail?"

    Ruan Mei scoffed. "This isn''t a vault. We pursue knowledge, not riches. You''ve stolen nothing of true value."

    Alam crossed his arms. "If not for research, then what is your purpose?"

    "Curiosity," Ruan Mei said. "I create universes to explore their possibilities. The Aeons and planets are merely byproducts."

    Alam smirked. "And now that you''re¡­ incapacitated, how will you satisfy that curiosity?"

    Ruan Mei laughed. "You can restrain my body, but never my mind. No amount of torment can touch my intellect."

    Alam nodded. "So, you choose endless torture over cooperation?"

    Ruan Mei laughed again. "Cooperate? With someone who violates me for his own ends? I''d choose death first."

    Alam chuckled. "Sometimes, pride makes people foolish."

    Ruan Mei retorted, "This isn''t pride; it''s disdain. I refuse to work with someone who has violated me. If you think guilt will make me comply, you''ve failed."

    Alam smirked. "It''s your fault too. One of your experiment subjects is my man. You set the fire."

    Ruan Mei chuckled. "You invaded my lab to rescue one subject? You broke through my defenses for one man?"

    Alam shook his head. "No, I took your tech too." He displayed a monitor showing a virtual world diagram.

    Ruan Mei sighed. "That? I create new diagrams for each universe. It''s worthless."

    Alam nodded. "But I have the tools and the knowledge to replicate them. Tell me, Ruan Mei: what matters more¡ªthe real world or the simulation?"

    Ruan Mei laughed. "They are one and the same to me. The Simulated Universe informs reality. Both are equally fascinating."

    Alam smirked. "A good answer. Your choices are simple: surrender, torture, or death."

    Ruan Mei laughed again. "None of those entice me. There is one option I might consider¡­ but I doubt you''d offer it."

    Alam raised an eyebrow. "Then consider this: you''ve been injected with a fast-acting venom. Three days. I have the antidote. Perhaps that will focus your mind."

    As the venom took hold, Ruan Mei felt her body weaken, pain lancing through her. Yet, she maintained her composure.

    Alam nodded. "Three days. Consider your choices. Perhaps you''ll be begging for the antidote before then. Farewell."

    Ruan Mei gave a final, strained laugh. "I think not. I don''t beg. You''ll never break me. Perhaps¡­ perhaps you should fear me regaining control."

    Alam suggested, "Use this time to find redemption. Pain is a powerful motivator. You have three days to make peace with your god¡­ or with me."

    Ruan Mei chuckled, despite the agony. "Repent? You misunderstand me entirely. I would die before I yielded to you."

 Chapter 3 Balance of power

    1st Day:

    Ruan Mei writhed in agony, the venom burning through her. Her thoughts grew sluggish, her vision blurred. The pain threatened to overwhelm her, pulling her toward unconsciousness.

    2nd Day:

    The venom intensified, each moment bringing fresh waves of unbearable pain. Her body spasmed violently, leaving her weak and dizzy. Maintaining consciousness became a struggle, exhaustion pulling at her.

    Hours Before the 3rd Day:

    Alam found Ruan Mei curled into a fetal position, her breath ragged and shallow. Her skin felt feverish. Though disoriented, she could still hear him.

    Alam gently touched her cheek. "Blink three times if you want the antidote."

    Ruan Mei didn''t react at first, her eyes twitching uncontrollably from the pain. Finally, with a monumental effort, she managed three blinks.

    Alam chuckled. "Good. First phase. This will ease the pain." He injected the antidote.

    Almost instantly, the burning subsided, replaced by a wave of soothing coolness. Her breathing evened, though her vision remained blurred. She was still weak, but the agony was gone.

    Alam chuckled. "Hehe... Good... Then I inject the antidote. This first phase will give you enough to remove the pain."

    Her vision slowly cleared. The antidote was working. She took a breath, then spoke, her voice faint but clear. "What would you like to hear?"

    Alam leaned in. "Now... Say something."

    Ruan Mei slowly opened her eyes, allowing her vision to readjust to its normal state. As her vision cleared, she could feel the effects of the antidote kicking in at the same time. She was able to think more clearly now, and she could process what Alam had just asked her to say. She took a moment to regain her composure and then opened her mouth to speak.

    Alam pressed, "Say what?"

    Ruan Mei took a moment to think, and then she spoke in a quiet and clear tone. "What would you like to hear?"

    Alam smirked. "Where is the sorry part? For being a mad scientist and prideful."

    Ruan Mei laughed slightly. "Sorry? Is that what you want to hear? An apology? You''re joking, right? How can you expect me to apologize for being a mad scientist or for being proud of my work? My research has no limits, and my pride and sense of accomplishment can never be compromised."

    Alam shook his head. "That antidote is just the first phase. Without the second one, you will still die in the next hour."

    Ruan Mei laughed again. "You really think I will beg for the second phase of that antidote? What kind of idiot do you take me for? Do you actually believe that I will ask you to grant me the antidote? You''re out of your mind. I''d rather die here than accept something from you."

    Alam nodded. "Good... Die."

    Ruan Mei closed her eyes, a smirk on her face. "If you think I''ll die that quickly, then it is you who is the fool. I can still survive for a while longer, even without the antidote. My body is strong and durable, and so it may still live even without the antidote, although the agony and pain will return. But as long as it takes before I die, I''ll resist you until my very last breath, because I''d rather die than give in to you."

    Ruan Mei closed her eyes, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "If you believe it will be that easy, you are mistaken. My body is resilient. I will endure as long as I can. I will resist you to my last breath."

    The smirk vanished as the venom''s agonizing grip tightened again. Pain surged through her, blurring her vision, slowing her breath. Her strength ebbed away, and unconsciousness threatened to claim her.

    Alam sighed. "One hundred thousand RM credits¡­ wasted on a stubborn child."

    Ruan Mei¡¯s body convulsed, her breath rattling in her chest. The venom was reaching its climax. A weak chuckle escaped her lips at the irony. Even such a vast sum couldn¡¯t save her now. She was slipping away.

    Alam watched as her body was carried away, a grim look on his face. He considered her stubborn pride. Was it truly worth dying for?

    He turned back to his duties, Carmelita watching him with a thoughtful expression.

    In the 24th century, replicating ancient technology was a rare skill. Humanity relied on a strange mix of medieval and modern tools¡ªiron swords and laser guns sharing the same battlefield. Certain technologies, like AI, human implants, advanced weaponry, cloning, teleportation, and genetic engineering, were officially outlawed. But in this chaotic world, laws were more like guidelines

    The Wanderers, a Carpathian-based mercenary company, had risen from humble beginnings to become a significant regional power, though not yet strong enough to join the New World Council.

    alam founding on the ruan mei and its genius society bunkers is like opening a pandora box m, the genius society is linked to various shady deal across the world, including wanderers donor. a red nation based in north america.

    red nation is natural rival of yellow nation. and wanderer on the middle on the two giant. especially given their origins tied closely to the Red Nation or so-called Free World, and ruled by man named Zion.

    Exploring the area around Ruan Mei''s lab, Alam discovered a hidden missile launch site behind the vegetation, its targeting systems clearly aimed at Yellow Nation territory. The implication was clear: Zion was protecting and supporting the Genius Society, granting them sanctuary in exchange for advanced technology and strategic assets like this missile site.

    This discovery presented Alam with a difficult choice. Ignoring the situation meant risking a devastating war between the Red and Yellow Nations. The Yellow Nation, led by Bayarl Khan, had long harbored grievances against the Red Nation, fueled by territorial disputes and a history of conflict. Both of these expansionist factions were willing to do anything to justify war.

    If the Red Nation continued its aggressive ambitions under Zion, the Yellow Nation would likely retaliate, leading to a conflict that could engulf not only the Wanderers but also the surrounding regions. Alam''s decision to intervene was not merely about loyalty to the Wanderers; it was a strategic move to prevent a larger war that could devastate their way of life. He understood that the stakes were high: a war would not only threaten their survival but also disrupt the delicate balance of power in the region, potentially drawing in other factions and escalating the violence.

    In this tense scenario, the Wanderers found themselves in a position reminiscent of Cold War-era tensions, akin to Cuba, Korea, and Afghanistan, but with a unique twist. Intervening, however, meant severing ties with the Red Nation, a powerful former ally, complicating Alam''s already precarious situation.

    Alam stood before a Red Nation flag on the wanderer base,. With a swift motion, he drew his dagger and plunged it through the center of the crimson banner. The act was decisive. The alliance was broken. They were now in open rebellion. Alam, once a supporter of Zion, now understood that Zion¡¯s expansionist ambitions were a direct threat to the fragile peace the Wanderers had fought so hard to maintain.

    They say balance is key¡ªa blend of action and introspection. Alam has come to understand the dangers of hubris and arrogance, having taken a life in the process. But how can a mere man stand against an empire?

    Carmelita, a woman draped in a black veil, entered Alam''s office. "I know you wanted to see her on her redemption arc," she said knowingly. "But not everyone seeks redemption. You could have saved time and resources by just killing Ruan Mei in the first place."

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Alam turned to face her, their eyes locking. "I know... But I believe everyone deserves a second chance."

    Carmelita rolled her eyes, sarcasm lacing her words. "Whatever you say, boss. So, what''s the next move?"

    Alam nodded, fingers intertwined. "We now understand Zion''s plan to use AI virtual worlds to control his population. It''s more effective than drugs, cigarettes, vodka, or even sex dolls." He paused, his mind racing. "Let''s research this further and uncover the side effects. Perhaps we can convince the Free World of its dangers and tarnish Zion''s reputation."

    Carmelita considered Alam''s insight. Past civilizations had indeed used cheap alcohol, substances, and pornography to dull the masses, but AI VR represented a new level of control. "So, send in an agent?" she suggested.

    Alam smiled, a glint of cunning in his eyes. "Of course, dumbass."

    Meanwhile, as his agents were dispatched, Alam now faced a more dangerous opponent: capitalism and nature itself. The region Alam controlled sprawled from the Carpathian Mountains in Ukraine to Central Asia¡ªa vast, sparsely populated area with scarce resources. Moreover, their neighbors were mostly hostile, and the majority were Zion''s lapdogs.

    Despite the absence of Zion''s ground forces in the region due to some¡­ logistical difficulties, his influence lingered through vassals like the Blood Khaganate. Their loyalty wasn¡¯t based on shared ideology or ancient treaties. It was about coal.

    Thanks to various global catastrophes before and after WW3, Earth''s temperature had cooled, especially in the winter, with days growing longer. If you lived in the tropics or near the equator,

    Alam shivered, pulling his thick coat tighter. Winter was coming, and in this part of the world, that was a death sentence. The Free World knew this, of course. They¡¯d been shipping tons of coal and those fancy heat generators to anyone willing to bend the knee. A clever way to control things without getting your hands dirty.

    Now, Alam¡¯s isolated faction faced its own harsh winter. Providing heat for his people was a nightmare¡­

    He grappled with the daunting challenge. With most young men in the military, only the elderly and children remained in the cities, leaving him with a manpower shortage.

    Alam refused child labor or slave acquisition. Instead, he made the difficult decision to scrap some of his tanks, repurposing them into generators. He also turned to the black market, dealing with pirates and shady nations like the Green Nation in south for robot laborers¡ªDolls.

    In the past, Alam might have turned to child labor, but he had grown as a leader. Despite opposition from his officers, he insisted that their tanks were useless without fuel and that children should be allowed to be children. not a factory shift.

    As winter dragged on, a new crisis emerged: rationing food and medicine. While this strategy preserved resources and prevented starvation, it also bred discontent and despair among the population.

    Alam¡¯s fingers were numb, his toes were numb, and honestly, his soul felt a little numb too. Distributing the last of the medicinal herbs, he wondered if frostbite counted as a medical emergency. Probably. This whole world was one big medical emergency, if you thought about it

    Alam, drawing inspiration from the story of Yusuf, or Joseph, chose to preserve resources and granted extra rations only to the sick. He spread pamphlets about the prophet''s wisdom to bolster mental fortitude. "we must preserve." The people, their eyes as hollow as their stomachs, reluctantly agreed. Hope, it seemed, was a luxury they could no longer afford.

    As winter intensified, rumors of a Blood Khaganate spy spread chaos through Alam''s city. Faced with growing discontent, Alam enforced strict laws to maintain order, a decision that eroded individual liberties and diminished hope, potentially leading to a tyrannical regime.

    Late in the winter, a major crisis emerged when rebels stole a granary on the Khaganate''s border, leaving many starving. The desperate question of cannibalism arose, threatening to damage the city''s moral compass and lead to societal collapse.

    Alam knew the Khaganate¡¯s game: portray him as a monster, a subhuman who drove his people to cannibalism, thus justifying a full-scale invasion. It was a classic dehumanization tactic.

    ¡°They¡¯re painting us as savages,¡± Alam said to his advisors, holding up a crudely drawn poster depicting Wanderers gnawing on bones. ¡°It¡¯s effective propaganda. But we won¡¯t give them the satisfaction.¡±

    As the ice receded and the harsh steppes bloomed with wildflowers, nomadic groups emerged, some allied with the Khaganate, others fiercely independent. Alam''s strategy was simple: liberate these lands and attract more nomads to bolster his own dwindling numbers.

    The Blood Khaganate, living up to their name, mobilized a massive cavalry force toward Alam¡¯s border. Without their tanks, the Wanderers were at a distinct disadvantage.

    One spring day, the two forces met in a lush valley carpeted with yellow blossoms. The Wanderers, armed with high-tech weaponry and gunpowder, faced a mixed Khaganate force: some clad in modern armor, others wielding crude metal shields and melee weapons. Their crimson banners, emblazoned with white tridents, symbols of their supposed lineage tracing back to some obscure steppe warlord¡ªsnapped in the breeze.

    Alam¡¯s intercom crackled to life. It was Subutai, a Khaganate captain. His head was shaved at the front, the long hair at the back gathered in a traditional braid¡ªa style mirrored by his riders, whose horses were adorned with painted antlers and colorful saddle blankets. Subutai sat astride a richly decorated horse, clearly making a point.

    ¡°Back off, Turks,¡± Subutai¡¯s voice boomed. ¡°Lay down your weapons and join our Khan. He offers you¡­ ¡®protection.¡¯ Refuse, and your men will become a fertilizer of this valley. Your women will become¡­ ¡®guests.¡¯¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, suppressing a sigh. ¡°You think a bit of Mongol DNA gives you the right to waltz in here? We won¡¯t back down. Zion¡¯s using us to pave his way to Europe and challenge the Yellow Nation. That¡¯ll destabilize the peace we have maintain.¡±

    Subutai laughed. ¡°Peace? You want peace in this world? Surrender, Alam. Think of your little mountain tribe. We¡¯ll spare them. Just give us back our missile, and let Zion do what he wants.¡±

    Alam¡¯s eye twitched. ¡°You¡¯re not seeing the bigger picture. When the Yellow Nation retaliates, we¡¯ll be the first to get crushed.¡±

    Subutai¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Zion¡¯s coming in a year or so. You can¡¯t stop the inevitable. Besides, we have the blood of the conqueror within us. It is our birthright to rule!¡±

    Alam shook his head. ¡°We¡¯re not backing down.¡±

    Subutai¡¯s face hardened. ¡°Then remember this, Turk. Genghis Khan¡¯s blood runs in my veins. We¡¯ll show you no mercy.¡± The connection cut.

    Alam gave a hand signal. ¡°They thinks their numbers and some ancestor worship will scare us off? Let them bleed for that mistak e.¡±

    the wanderers are take position on the high valley. and the khaganate soldiers charge, along side with their horses, and armored vehicles.

    wanderer sharp shooters is aim on the drivers first. their thermal scope and their bullet manage to pierce the armor, after the armored vehicles taken out. next is their horseman, series of grenade launch by sling and rocket launcer is make their decimated their horseman.

    Despite the heavy losses, Subutai and a handful of riders pressed on. Subutai¡¯s horse cleared the hastily erected, pointy log fence the Wanderers had set up. He was a sight to behold¡ªan SMG clutched in his left hand, a scimitar gleaming in his right, a true warrior in full charge.

    Then, a Wanderer sniper¡¯s bullet found its mark, hitting Subutai in the neck. He tumbled from his horse, ending the charge.

    The remaining Khaganate forces, shaken by the sudden loss of their leader and the effectiveness of the Wanderers¡¯ defense, broke and retreated, leaving behind their supply tents.

    Alam examines a captured Khaganate supply depot, he could note the mix of advanced fuel cells alongside barrels of oil and simple farming tools, reflecting on how society has regressed in some areas while retaining fragments of the past. "They''re hauling fuel for their tanks right next to barrels of lamp oil. It''s a damn mess, but it works, I suppose."

    The Wanderers celebrated their first significant clash against the Khaganate, a much-needed victory. But the fighting had taken its toll. They were tired, and ammunition was running low. As Alam surveyed the valley, the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the landscape. It was then he noticed them: a group of riders appearing on the horizon. They were nomads, but unlike any he¡¯d seen before. Their mounts were magnificent creatures, larger and more powerfully built than any ordinary horse, almost like they¡¯d stepped out of some pre-war sci-fi holovid.

    ¡°Great,¡± Alam muttered, squinting at the approaching figures. ¡°Just what we need¡ªmore surprises. I hope they don¡¯t come with a side of trouble.¡±

    As the nomads drew closer, Alam noticed they were heavily armed. One warrior, in particular, caught his eye. He was mounted on a magnificent horse, wielding an RPG in one hand and a machine gun in the other, looking like a cross between a cowboy and a futuristic soldier.

    ¡°Whoa there, partner!¡± Alam called out, raising a hand in a gesture of peace. ¡°What¡¯s your game?¡±

    The warrior dismounted from his black horse with a flourish, revealing a muscular build covered in tattoos ¡°I am Ali, undefeated wrestling champion of the nomadic tribes!¡± he declared, puffing out his chest. ¡°And we come in peace!¡±

    ¡°Peace?¡± Alam raised an eyebrow, skeptical. ¡°You¡¯re packing enough heat to start a small war.¡±

    He gestured to the valley below, littered with Khaganate wreckage. ¡°Looks like you boys had some fun. Shame we missed the party.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, skeptical. ¡°You¡¯re packing enough heat to start your own war. And those¡­¡± He gestured to the riders behind Ali.

    A rider beside Ali casually tossed a burlap sack to the ground. Several more severed heads, their hair shaved except for the traditional braid at the back, rolled out. Ali chuckled, his laughter booming like thunder. ¡°Consider them a¡­ peace offering. We had a little disagreement with some stragglers on the way here. They weren''t keen on our new¡­ direction.¡±

    Alam exchanged glances with his officers, who looked equally bewildered. ¡°So, let me get this straight. You want to join us because you¡¯re angry at the Free World for taking your family?¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± Ali nodded vigorously. ¡°We nomads value family above all. The Free World¡¯s actions have made us outcasts. We seek a new home, a new family¡ªlike yours!¡±

    ¡°Okay, but what¡¯s with the enhanced horses?¡± Alam asked, gesturing to the magnificent creatures. ¡°Did you hit the genetic jackpot or something?¡±

    Ali grinned, patting his horse affectionately. ¡°These beauties are the result of our tribe¡¯s ancient practices mixed with modern science. They¡¯re faster, stronger, and can even do tricks! Watch this!¡± He whistled, and the horse reared up, performing a perfect jump over a tent

    ¡°Impressive!¡± Alam couldn¡¯t help but smile.alam remind his time when at ruan mei bunkers, there is a tons of mad scientist who will sell their mutaned creature and tools for profit, or just their amusement despite international law, he then back glance at the giant black horse ¡°But can they, like... fly?¡±

    ¡°Only if you teach them!¡± Ali laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. ¡°But seriously, we want to fight alongside you. We have skills, and our horses can outmaneuver any enemy.¡±

    Alam considered this. ¡°Alright, but we need to know more about you and your people. What¡¯s your story?¡±

    Ali''s expression turned serious. ¡°We nomads have survived in this harsh world by relying on each other. We adapt, we share, and we fight for our families. We¡¯ve seen the chaos of war, and we know the value of community. Joining you means we can protect our loved ones and reclaim what was taken from us.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a solid plan,¡± Alam said, nodding. ¡°But we have to be careful. The Free World won¡¯t take kindly to us teaming up with you.¡±

    ¡°Let them come!¡± Ali boomed, raising his RPG triumphantly. ¡°We¡¯ll show them the strength of our unity!¡±

    ¡°Alright, you¡¯ve got yourself a deal,¡± Alam said, extending his hand. ¡°Welcome to the Wanderer Group, Ali. Just remember, we¡¯re all about teamwork here. No solo acts, okay?¡±

    Ali clasped Alam¡¯s hand firmly, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°You can count on me, General! Together, we¡¯ll make the Free World and khaganate regret ever crossing us!¡±

 Chapter 4 Rat Rebellions

    Alam kept pushing east, leaving Carmelita in charge of the Carpathian base. One day, Carmelita was poking around Ruan Mei''s old lab, checking out some of her projects. The one that really caught her eye was labeled ¡°Fungi and Immortality.¡±

    Carmelita¡¯s jaw dropped¡ªyou could almost see it through her veil. She zoomed in on the monitor, finding some seriously weird details. Turns out, Ruan Mei had a whole pre-war life story of some guy tucked away in the data.

    the weird part is there was a data chip¡ªbasically a full memory recording you could watch like a movie. Carmelita grabbed a VR headset and jacked in. The world dissolved, and she found herself in pre-war Finland.

    It was 6:30 a.m., and Reginald Meatwagon woke up to find he¡¯d been beaten up by the police¡­ again. In his sleep. He lived in Tenon V, a place where reality was optional. If he wasn''t already tripping, he¡¯d take a few good whiffs from a bag of mystery mushrooms before heading upstairs to deposit a few live rats in his neighbor¡¯s apartment. They were not like this.

    After his morning rat-drop, Reginald hustled off to his telemarketing job, doing his best to avoid eye contact with the local homeless. Before his shift, he chugged a bottle of windshield washer to stave off the alcohol withdrawals. Lunch was spent in the courtyard, guzzling cooking oil from a 10-liter drum and trying not to overdose on his antidepressants.

    Later, hunched over a flickering monitor at his telemarketing job, Reginald fought the tremors of withdrawal. The world around him shimmered¡ªtrees whispered secrets, clouds morphed into grotesque faces. He¡¯d volunteered to let some shady scientist implant a data chip in his brain for quick cash, and now he lived in a permanent state of surrealism. A sharp sting at the back of his head snapped him back to the present. Even in his distorted reality, bills were still due.

    This all went down right before WW3, in the worst possible place: Finland. A deadly fungus outbreak had the whole place quarantined. The government¡¯s solution? Give the quarantined citizens a derelict department building with a few tenants already living there. Talk about a pro-gamer move. Reginald called his new digs "da hood."

    His new goal? Go from being a poor, horrible tenant to a more profitable one. Could he rent out every room in the building, or would he die trying? Only one way to find out.

    As Carmelita watched Reginald''s simulation in the VR headset, she was hooked. She''d never seen anything like it¡ªa world where reality and absurdity were practically the same thing, a total chaotic mess. She kept watching with a curious smirk, wondering how long this guy could possibly last as a landlord.

    The simulation started in a super high-tech immigration office. The interviewers asked a few questions, and Reginald described himself as "filthy, poor, gamer, and alcoholic." Application accepted. His welcome package? Three cigarettes, two beers, and a live rat. Boom. Citizen of Finland.

    Reginald took a minute to meet the locals. There was Dr. Penna (hopefully no relation to¡­ that). Then there was Samuel, the contractor with the thousand-yard stare. Reginald liked him, though, because he sold porno mags behind his brick shelves. Good times. Finally, there was Perah, permanently glued to a bench, perpetually drunk, and always covered in¡­ well, you get the idea. ¡°You know what? I think I¡¯m gonna fit in just fine here,¡± Reginald mused.

    Their mission: rent out all 12 apartments in their building, ¡°da hood.¡± It was a massive, asbestos-covered monstrosity looming behind a barbed-wire fence. Reginald forked over $10 to cross the toll bridge and check it out. After a quick tour, his conclusion: this place was a total dump. Graffiti everywhere, toxic mushrooms in almost every unit, and he was pretty sure their only tenant was actively plotting his murder.

    First order of business: cleaning supplies. Reginald decided the best way to get those was to¡­ acquire them. He snuck into a hotel bathroom and swiped all the hand soap. Crucial, since they didn''t have showers yet. Hand sanitizer baths it was.

    Meanwhile, Europe was having a bit of a disagreement involving missiles, but no ground troops yet. The US was just chilling, selling weapons to its European "allies" while dealing with its own stuff in the Middle East. Business as usual.

    Back in serene Finland, Reginald realized this landlord thing was going to be a project. "Da hood" was a disaster. Garbage everywhere, a dead body to deal with, boarded-up doors¡­ fantastic.

    Next up: renovations. But first, the toll bridge. Everyone hated the toll bridge. Every trip to "da hood" cost $10. Since Reginald and Perah were only about $25 apart financially, they needed a solution. Reginald¡¯s genius plan? Build their own bridge using some seriously questionable engineering. It was free, and 100% safe¡­ unless you fell off and died.

    Now they could finally talk to Samuel about renovations. Samuel laid it out: upgrades were expensive, required a ton of materials, and he didn¡¯t care how they got them. Perfect, since Reginald was currently robbing him blind. Maybe don¡¯t write your safe combo in your diary next time, Samuel.

    Between robbing Samuel and selling him random junk, they were making decent cash. But like Ubisoft, Reginald was running out of trash to sell, so he needed a more sustainable income stream. His job hunt went like this:

    Recycling: Diving headfirst into dumpsters for empty bottles. The doctor''s office was a goldmine. Pay? Not great.

    Music Career: Accidentally broke into an apartment with a sledgehammer, found a free guitar. Played it around town, got relentlessly insulted. Two hours of ¡°work¡± for $35 and a bruised ego. No thanks.

    Farming: Went to the Kurahara farm, met Jump. Got free seeds, planted them, waited¡­ and waited¡­ and waited. Just him and Jump. Jump was kind of creepy, so Reginald didn¡¯t spend much time there.

    Telemarketing (Again): Decent pay, but he almost died of boredom on day one.

    That was it. Reginald officially rejected gainful employment. He only believed in two things now: bootleg booze and rat farms.

    Carmelita watched Reginald''s simulated life unfold in the VR headset, completely absorbed. How he managed to survive in such a bizarre place was beyond her, and a constant smirk played on her lips. The sheer absurdity of it all was endlessly amusing. She kept watching, eager to see what new chaos Reginald would stumble into, especially after hearing about the world war and Finland becoming a quarantine zone.

    Let''s start with the rats. Reginald hit up Mulan furniture store, buying a bunch of animal cages. While he was there, he also helped himself to some of Mulan¡¯s other merchandise. Back at ¡°da hood,¡± the cages looked great. Now, for the rats.

    Reginald picked up three of their finest rodents and deposited them in the cages. Now they wait. Within a few days, they''d have a virtually endless supply of rats, which he could cook and process into sausages to feed the town''s people.

    Next up: moonshining operation (alcohol) , Reginald was introduced to several average Europeans. One of them was Penty Pentilla, the bar owner. He buys his liquor from a guy named Max Masher, who apparently got the nickname because someone mashed his brain with a hammer. Reginald couldn''t wait to meet this man.

    Anyway, Penty wanted them to go to Max and pick up his next shipment, so they headed over to Max''s apartment and engaged in a very esoteric conversation that mostly consisted of Reginald threatening him. Eventually, he just kicked down the door, accidentally knocking Max out. If Max didn¡¯t have brain damage before, he definitely did now. He was understandably upset, but Reginald managed to convince him his door was sentient and trying to kill him. Max bought it. They even gave the door a stern talking-to on Max¡¯s behalf..

    With Max out of commission, they snagged his supplies and became the town¡¯s sole moonshine operation. Back at ¡°da hood,¡± Reginald set everything up: a 100-liter mash drum, a fermentation container, a still, and a few barrels. All they needed now were ingredients. A quick trip to the mart later, they had 100 turnips, some plastic buckets, and every packet of yeast they had. Reginald tried his best to look casual.

    Back at base, they started brewing their first batch of turnip wine. Mash, ferment, distill¡ªsimple. Though, turnip mash did look suspiciously like diesel fuel. Highly recommend not mixing those up.

    Anyway, the brewing process and rat sex colony took several days to yield any results, so in the meantime, Reginald decided to pick up a new hobby: stealing everything that wasn''t nailed to the ground. Now, you might look at a feral gopnik and think to yourself, "Man, this stealing thing seems pretty simple," but you''re wrong. It''s actually a highly complex performance art where every action has a specific meaning.

    He broke into your apartment with a sledgehammer to critique the oligarchy. He stole your family''s entire food supply as a nuanced commentary on the Middle East. And most importantly, he left several logs of his own feces on your bed and in your freezer. Even he didn''t know the meaning of that one. That was mostly just... fun.

    The theft was pretty easy as long as you could avoid the bear traps and shotgun trip wires. you know. people of Finland is preety expert on their anti theif security, instead using advance cctv they just put farm tools in floor like a tom and jerry scene.

    Selling the loot was the trickier part. He found a guy named Passmore who¡¯d buy pretty much anything. They kept Passmore contained for public safety reasons¡ªbeing Polish meant he had a particular fondness for dirty syringes, jewelry, and prescription meds.

    This was what it meant to be ungovernable. Their moonshine was finally flowing (the rats were still just¡­ existing), so Reginald put a meat grinder on top of their cage for motivation.

    With the cash rolling in, they finally started upgrading ¡°da hood.¡± With hundreds of dollars and some¡­ borrowed¡­ building materials, they managed to get level one walls: just plain brick. Not great, but it was a start. Now they needed a tenant. Someone desperate enough to live in a condemned apartment with no electricity, heating, or plumbing, plus a rat sex farm on the first floor. ¡°I know a guy,¡± Reginald muttered. Perah became their first tenant. He didn¡¯t pay much, but it was enough to fuel Reginald¡¯s hallucinogenic cigarette habit, so it was a win.

    Upgrades kept coming. They unlocked the basement, took a dip in a urine-filled pool (don''t ask), built stairs to the fourth floor (and promptly fell off and died, then came back), sold more junk, and rented another apartment. ¡°Welcome to the building. I¡¯m storing 90 liters of illegal moonshine in your sink. Thanks for being a good tenant.¡±

    Things were going too well. Reginald had been so busy being a responsible landlord that he¡¯d neglected his drinking, and now his addiction was¡­ gone, He missed the old Reggie the one who drank methanol and died. ¡°I could go to the doctor for antidepressants, but I believe in personal responsibility. And robbing pharmacies.¡±

    He hit up Passmore, who traded him a pharmacy key card for some Chinese wristwatches. At the pharmacy, the cashier was staring him down, so he distracted him with his pocket rats, snuck behind the counter, and scanned the card to get into the drug storage.

    The final guard was a woman, but Reginald had avoided women his whole life, so that wasn¡¯t a problem. He found the jackpot: 18 bottles of prescription meds. He grabbed them all, making sure to rearrange the shelves so no one would notice.

    He made his escape and spent the afternoon seeing how many painkillers he could eat before passing out. Turns out, they just made him stronger. With 9,000 mg of oxycodone coursing through his veins, he was basically unstoppable. He was running, parkouring like a proper anime protagonist.

    Corrupt them all. Glad that¡¯s over. Time to get his stuff back from the guard. Oh, hey, free paper on the desk. He grabbed a stack. Then the guard arrested him again.

    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Reginald muttered as the gates slammed shut. ¡°The prison industrial complex got me again. Okay, now I¡¯m free for real. Time to turn over a new leaf¡­ by robbing the city even harder.¡±

    In his cell, Reginald plotted. ¡°Besides eating mold and talking to the man in my walls, there¡¯s not much to do in prison,¡± he thought. ¡°So, I planned a heist.¡±

    Finland had a weird dual currency system. ¡°OC is basically fake money used by the homeless¡ªlike the Canadian dollar. RM is real money, worth about 10 times more, and buys the good stuff.¡±

    His plan: rob the currency exchanger. Maybe even take him out. ¡°You go to this door, a guy on the other side exchanges your money. We¡¯re going to rob and maybe kill this guy.¡±

    Fresh out of jail (again), Reginald bought some lockpicks. That night, during martial law, he snuck between buildings to the currency exchange. ¡°That¡¯s a shotgun waiting to blow my head off,¡± he noticed, disabling the tripwire and slipping inside.

    The manager¡¯s jaw dropped as Reginald grinned, grabbed some golden urns, and stole 50 bottles of top-shelf booze. He cracked the safe and made a quick getaway, only to be chased by a cop.

    Reginald was briefly distracted by the cop¡¯s goofy run animation, but he recovered and evaded him for three minutes before getting cornered on a rooftop. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s all part of the plan,¡± he said as he was dragged back to jail.

    Back in his cell, he pulled a lockpick from under his bed. ¡°I think I¡¯m finally learning from my mistakes,¡± he mused, jimmying the ventilation cover and crawling into an abandoned shaft. ¡°Sorry for the trouble,¡± he muttered to the empty shaft, finding an exit to the sewers and then to the surface.

    He ran to the nearest dumpster, where he¡¯d stashed his loot. He grinned. Selling this to Passmore would net them tens of thousands. ¡°Rehabilitation was never an option.¡± Everything was going exactly according to plan. Then, a few snowflakes began to fall. Reginald stared up at the sky, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. The sight of the snow seemed to trigger a memory, a fleeting image of a brightly lit room and a figure in red. He quickly blinked it away, his grin returning, sharper this time. ¡°Time to celebrate.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Chapter 5 Price of Conrad

    Reginald was chilling in a park, contemplating the meaning of life, when a guy in a lab coat approached. The guy explained there was a shortage of young males in the area and asked Reginald to participate in a "harmless survey." Intrigued, Reginald agreed, wondering what kind of help they needed.

    Turns out, he¡¯d accidentally signed up for some seriously unethical medical research involving¡­ technically dead bodies. ¡°Actually, I think that one might have been alive,¡± he mused, a mix of horror and fascination on his face. The doctor, noticing his hesitation, paid him handsomely to keep quiet and handed him a vial of red chemicals. ¡°Don¡¯t drink this,¡± he warned. Reginald just grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll probably drink it anyway. You know, for science.¡±

    Things were going well. Questing was bringing in good money, and Reginald was making so much moonshine he¡¯d run out of bottles and was now selling it by the bucket. He was a true capitalist: as long as there were other people, there was money to be made. He had a vision: a Finland overflowing with pure ethanol, solving homelessness overnight. Every house with a thousand-liter tank of his moonshine. And, of course, him swimming in cash.

    To make this happen, they needed to expand. Luckily, Reginald had just upgraded the basement, which had tons of space. But new equipment was expensive. Time for a bank robbery.

    He talked it over with Passmore. They had a plan. During his earlier prison escape, Reginald had found a tunnel that seemed to lead to the bank, but it was blocked. Passmore¡¯s guy, posing as a bank teller, would clear the blockage. Then, they¡¯d hit the bank at night.

    Passmore told him to be at the tunnel at 11:00 p.m. Reginald¡¯s clock was set to military time, and he might have had a little too much moonshine, so he showed up four hours early. Whoops. Eventually, the tunnel was clear, and Reginald climbed the ladder, popping out in a crawlspace near the bank. He snuck past the cameras, grabbed everything he could find in the offices, and disabled the security system.

    Time for the vault. A stick of dynamite later, the vault door was no longer a problem. He grabbed what he could from the safety deposit boxes and booked it. He met up with Passmore and handed over the loot. Passmore casually gave him 120,000 RM credits. ¡°Holy crap,¡± Reginald breathed.

    He used the cash to buy the rest of his brewing equipment. Now they were churning out 100 liters of moonshine every few days. Forget the history books; this was the real Renaissance. It went something like this:

    Wake up in the middle of the night. Time for some¡­ experimentation. Take a healthy dose of stolen meds for inspiration. Once you¡¯re hallucinating, go further. Good. But not good enough. Commune with the divine by eating corpse fungus. Boom, divine revelation. Instead of yeast, use toxic mushrooms to make alcohol for cheap. Trust him; it was totally safe. He even drank some himself. Yes, his poop was now glowing, but there was no way to prove a connection.

    Reginald was exhausted, but sleep was for the weak. Every hour he slept was an hour he wasn¡¯t making money. So, he drank 24 liters of tea and stayed awake for 128 hours straight¡ªthe limit before he¡¯d start trying to off himself.

    Armed with his¡­ unique¡­ collection of booze and scrap metal, Reginald hit the market and made millions. Time for more upgrades to ¡°da hood¡±: nice walls, nicer walls, nicest walls. He used the fancy exterior to trick six unsuspecting people into giving him their money. He spent it all on upgrading his own penthouse, apologizing, ¡°Sorry, no plumbing for you guys,¡± as he dropped thousands on pixel art of Jesus.

    These suckers just didn¡¯t understand hard work. Sometimes Reginald had to sit on his couch for a whole 24 hours to passively generate $3,000. It was practically slavery. But hey, he had clean water, a flat-screen, a 3D printer, and he still got molested in his sleep by his crazy neighbor (his choice). All in all, things were great. His apartment was awesome, he¡¯d successfully conned 12 people into living in his slum, and their vacancy rate was 0%. Challenge complete. ¡°Da hood¡± was now officially dope.

    But as a wise man once said, ¡°It¡¯s not enough for me to succeed; others must fail.¡± There were other apartment buildings in town, and Reginald took it personally that people were living there instead of begging to live in his masterpiece. Time for some retaliation.

    The rat farm? Yeah, that got a little out of hand. Reginald had to build a whole fallout shelter just to contain them. These rats laughed at population control. He hadn¡¯t fed them in weeks, and they were still multiplying like crazy. Every container in the building was overflowing with hundreds of live rats. It was a disaster, but disasters were also opportunities.

    Reginald decided to unleash 10,000 rats into every store, park, and apartment in the city. Time to bring the pain and advertise his superior housing. Armed with a refrigerated backpack full of rodents, he hit the town square. ¡°Cry havoc and let slip the rats of war!¡± he declared.

    And that was that. Every inch of the city was now crawling with rats. The only safe place? His apartment building. Time for a celebration. Reginald knew just how to celebrate such a monumental victory.

    Back in his basement, he had a 1,000-liter tank of pure vodka. Time to drink the whole thing. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking: ¡®Reggie, that¡¯s dangerous!¡¯ Don¡¯t worry, I also bought 900 cigarettes to balance it out.¡±

    The party started. But that wasn¡¯t enough. Reginald pulled out the methanol. ¡°I know the guy who owns this stuff¡­ Oh crap, this is good.¡± He filled his shower with methanol and hopped in. ¡°Oh yeah, yeah, yeah¡­¡±

    Carmelita leaned forward, her smirk widening as Reginald unleashed his rat army. "He''s actually doing it," she muttered, shaking her head. "Ten thousand rats. That''s¡­ impressively disturbing." She watched him prepping his methanol bath. "This guy is something else. How is he even alive?"

    "Alive doing what?" Alam tapped her shoulder, snapping her out of the simulation. "What are you watching? Some snuff film? Hehe." He winked.

    Carmelita jolted, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. She chuckled, trying to play it cool. "Oh, just¡­ a movie. Online." She winked back.

    "An old movie, huh? Good. Anyway, I need more money." Alam wiggled his eyebrows.

    Carmelita laughed. "More money? What for this time? Another casino run?"

    "Nah, silly. Not a gambler. Need it for the campaign."

    Carmelita¡¯s expression turned serious. "Right, the campaign. How much are we talking?"

    "¡­Everything you¡¯ve got."

    Carmelita chuckled. "Everything? That''s a big ask. Must be serious." She leaned back, considering. "You sure you need all of it? Can''t you manage with a little less?"

    "Tried that. Taming the wild east is expensive. Need better comms, better jammers. It''s a mess out there."

    Carmelita nodded, a mix of understanding and concern on her face. "The Eastern Wasteland, yeah. It''s a tough spot. If you need it for comms and to counter the jammers, I''ll see what I can do." She sighed, resigned to digging deep into her own funds. "I''ll scrape together a good amount. Just promise you won¡¯t blow it all at the tables."

    "Thanks¡­ uh¡­ Mom?"

    Carmelita tried to suppress a smile, feigning sternness. "Watch it, ''son.'' Don''t get any ideas just because I''m funding your little war."

    "Got it. See ya later¡­ and¡­ try not to watch too much porn, okay?"alam wink at her before leaving

    Carmelita choked back a laugh, blushing slightly. "Hey! Who do you think I am? I don''t spend all my time watching porn." She waved a hand dismissively, but a smile played on her lips.

    After Alam left, Carmelita went back to the VR headset, curious to see how Reginald''s story played out.

    After his "da hood" success in Finland, Reginald decided he hadn¡¯t quite reached peak capitalism. Time for America. He bribed his way out of Finland and set his sights on the land of opportunity.

    Homelessness was one of America''s best-known epidemics, with people sleeping on park benches, drinking gasoline, and committing insurance fraud just to pay the bills. It wasn''t as fun as it sounded, but Reginald had bigger ambitions. He aimed to become a millionaire, a shallow dream and that''s exactly what he intended to do.

    Reginald found himself in a business management role that allowed him to financially and spiritually enrich himself, albeit through the exploitation of his employees. He was determined to accumulate one million dollars in his bank account¡ªor die trying. "Let''s begin," he thought, feeling a surge of ambition.

    His first step was to purchase a suitcase from Passmore. This was no ordinary suitcase; it had belonged to someone who had drowned at sea. Inside, he discovered an ID that would serve as the foundation for his new identity.

    Much like a god, Reginald set about reinventing himself. After experimenting with different hairstyles, changing the color of his pants, and undergoing a few cosmetic procedures with a doctor who had fled from war in Korea, he emerged as the ultimate business magnate: Conrad Murray. It was time to get to work.

    Conrad''s journey began with an unexpected twist of fate. The first line he encountered in his new diary read, "It''s been three months since grandma died." Reginald quickly summarized the situation: Conrad was now homeless in New York City, but fortunately, his wealthy new Uncle Fred had decided to share some invaluable business knowledge to help him navigate this new life.

    With Uncle Fred¡¯s advice, Conrad¡¯s business skills took off. He learned the art of the deal, the power of networking, and the importance of looking out for number one. Ruthlessness became his brand, and he climbed the corporate ladder fast.

    His first big move was a tech startup with an app that exploited the homeless. Users could hire homeless people for small jobs in exchange for food or shelter. Controversial? Sure. But it took off, and Conrad¡¯s bank account started looking very healthy.

    Conrad¡¯s ultimate goal was an empire that would outlive him. He diversified like crazy¡ªpharmaceuticals, energy, even the booming military industry (thanks, looming World War III). He wanted a legacy, to be remembered as a pillar of capitalism.

    Surviving in New York City was a testament to Conrad''s resourcefulness, aided by the guidance of his wealthy uncle, Fred. Fred''s first piece of advice was to secure an apartment, and Conrad took an unconventional approach¡ªhe ran down the middle of the road, dodging oncoming traffic. His philosophy was simple: if someone wanted to hit him with their car, they would, but they wouldn¡¯t expect him to be in the middle of a four-lane highway at 3 a.m., which he believed made it the safest option.

    The apartment was valued at $26 million. Conrad offered $15. He got laughed at, but that was the point. This was his rock bottom, the starting point for his rise to the top. For now, he rented it for $44 a day.

    In New York, $1,300 got you a cramped 300-square-foot box with no running water. The ¡°bathroom¡± was¡­ an experience. After a seven-hour nap, Conrad set out to get a fridge.

    Time to unleash his superpower: moral bankruptcy. He stole a fridge and sprinted through rush hour traffic, making it back to his apartment, fridge in tow. Risky? Definitely. Profitable? Absolutely.

    Next, groceries. Knowing he couldn''t risk getting banned, Conrad actually paid for these. Uncle Fred was holding back his financial genius until Conrad made $300 on his own, so Conrad got a job at the grocery store. Hired on the spot. The manager clearly recognized a kindred spirit.

    It was 2 p.m. on a Tuesday, and his shift didn¡¯t start for another 20 hours. But Conrad was a go-getter. He started working immediately, even kicking the other cashier off their register. Unpaid overtime? No problem. Conrad worked for six hours before letting the other cashiers take over.

    After sleeping on a bench for 12 hours, he woke up just in time for his first actual shift. Seven hours later, he¡¯d made $175. Though, technically, he still hadn''t been paid.

    Having conquered New York''s harsh realities, Conrad was ready to build his empire. With Uncle Fred¡¯s blessing, he got a $15,000 loan from the bank. Time for business.

    His first venture: a gift shop called "Dumb Shit." He found a spot, signed the lease, and got a mysterious call from Uncle Fred congratulating him. At 1:30 a.m. It was weird since no one had ever actually seen Uncle Fred. Conrad started to wonder if Uncle Fred was just in his head. A coping mechanism for post-capitalist life.

    Regardless, Conrad pushed on. He bought supplies, decorated the shop (causing a traffic jam in the process), and even crashed his car into the Alibaba Clearance Store, just to show he meant business. This, predictably, led to him locking himself out of his now illegally parked car.

    Conrad, ever the resilient businessman, decided to carry the supplies back to the store on foot, sprinting through traffic. The journey was arduous, and they collapsed from exhaustion, waking up in a hospital 600 meters away. The hospital charged Conrad $2,000, a price he begrudgingly paid.

    Revitalized by the wonders of private healthcare, Conrad returned to his gift shop, which was now fully stocked. "Dumb shit" was ready to open for business, with hours of operation set for all day, every day. Conrad manned the till, ready to embark on his first 24-hour shift.

    Despite the challenges, Conrad''s business began to thrive, pulling in a few hundred dollars each day. He realized that he needed to outsource the suffering, so he hired his first employee, Jason Hughes. He wants $15 an hour and part-time work. Let me tell you one thing, Jason: you will never see your family ever again. We hired him immediately, designed his work uniform, and scheduled his hours for the week. He''s working 168 hours a week for the next calendar year

    With Jason on board, Conrad could focus on expanding his business empire. He returned to the recruitment agency to place a bulk order for more employees, determined to build a business that would stand the test of time.

    Conrad''s relentless drive to succeed in the cutthroat world of New York City business was unmatched. Only an amateur business would even consider the concept of closing; Conrad manned the till and prepared for his first 24-hour shift at "Dumb shit." He made it about 12 hours straight with no lunch break before entering a state of exhaustion that precluded him from continuing work.

    he then use his new friend. a new drug, who so strong make him  like a movie watcher than participant in real life,

    I didn''t want Conrad to end up in the hospital again, so I had him wander down the road in his mindless delirium, searching for a park bench to recover his stamina.

    During this time, I also realized that we have several text messages from the city of New York informing us that we are being ticketed $125 every day that our car remains illegally parked. Since Conrad can''t get in the car to move it, he''ll be paying $125 every day for the rest of his natural life. To say this crippled my morale was an understatement.  until finaly he argue if his car is a "performance art piece", then someone buy it. and move the car for him. modern art is indeed a absurd!

    Anyway, we eventually found our way back to the apartment and slept for a few hours. Conrad completed this cycle of suffering for the next few days. We were making money, but this is no way to live. We need to outsource this suffering to someone else.

    I let Conrad off work early today so he could go to a recruitment office to try to find some people to hire. Unfortunately, he collapsed in traffic again, and we woke up at the hospital.when doctor explaining his injuries, and Conrad interrupts to ask about investment opportunities in the hospital''s medical supply chain.

    then he ran back to the recruiting office and placed an order for one employee between the ages of 15 and 31. I decided on this age range because I feel it will be easier to convince a 15-year-old that 24-hour shifts are normal in the adult world.

    Conrad threw himself into his business studies, consuming textbooks and online courses like a man possessed. After thirteen hours, the world began to warp. Numbers danced before his eyes, every conversation became a business negotiation, and he started calculating the profit margins of his own bodily functions. He began to see Jason, his employee, as a liability, a drain on his efficiency. Jason''s suggestion of a "lunch break" was the final straw. "Lunch is for the weak," Conrad muttered, firing him on the spot. "Time is money, and you''re wasting both."

    ¡°Dumb Shit¡± was making decent profit, so Conrad decided to open a second business: a hamburger joint called "Beef and Nothing Else," two doors down. Turns out, nobody in New York liked his burgers. Probably because they¡¯d been sitting on the grill for three days (no freezers). Conrad tried everything, even causing a 47-car pileup in protest. Nothing worked. Twenty parking tickets later, he was briefly bankrupt. Time to cut his losses.

    He had the health department shut down "Beef and Nothing Else" so he could rebrand. He consulted his accountant, who suggested a new mascot: Golgarth. And thus, "Golgaroth''s Treasure," a jewelry store, was born.

    Conrad stocked it with the cheapest, most asbestos-laden jewelry he could find, and profits started rolling in. The business model was simple: find a popular product, find the cheapest supplier, cut corners, and exploit employees. Boom. Profit.

    Conrad¡¯s empire was growing. He was becoming a force to be reckoned with. The sky was the limit.

    Conrad was relentless. He found an underserviced industry, rented a warehouse and storefronts, bought a pink delivery van, hired drivers and a logistics manager, and cut out the middleman by importing directly from China.

    The operation ran smoothly. Goods went to the warehouse, the logistics manager handled distribution, and drivers delivered to the stores. This automated most of the business.

    It took some time (and $50,000 in personal loans) to get it running. With that much debt, Conrad went into hyper-frugality mode. He fired anyone asking for more than $18 an hour and even evicted himself to live in the company van. By day five, finances were stable, bringing in $3,000-$7,000 daily.

    Armed with this knowledge, Conrad expanded rapidly. More warehouses, more storefronts, more overworked employees, more money. Within months, he was selling everything from cigars and wine to donuts, cheap clothes, and even legal services (using, of course, more exploited employees). If it could be made with child labor, Conrad was selling it. $20,000 a day was the new normal.

 Chapter 5 Price of Conrad

    Reginald was chilling in a park, contemplating the meaning of life, when a guy in a lab coat approached. The guy explained there was a shortage of young males in the area and asked Reginald to participate in a "harmless survey." Intrigued, Reginald agreed, wondering what kind of help they needed.

    Turns out, he¡¯d accidentally signed up for some seriously unethical medical research involving¡­ technically dead bodies. ¡°Actually, I think that one might have been alive,¡± he mused, a mix of horror and fascination on his face. The doctor, noticing his hesitation, paid him handsomely to keep quiet and handed him a vial of red chemicals. ¡°Don¡¯t drink this,¡± he warned. Reginald just grinned. ¡°I¡¯ll probably drink it anyway. You know, for science.¡±

    Things were going well. Questing was bringing in good money, and Reginald was making so much moonshine he¡¯d run out of bottles and was now selling it by the bucket. He was a true capitalist: as long as there were other people, there was money to be made. He had a vision: a Finland overflowing with pure ethanol, solving homelessness overnight. Every house with a thousand-liter tank of his moonshine. And, of course, him swimming in cash.

    To make this happen, they needed to expand. Luckily, Reginald had just upgraded the basement, which had tons of space. But new equipment was expensive. Time for a bank robbery.

    He talked it over with Passmore. They had a plan. During his earlier prison escape, Reginald had found a tunnel that seemed to lead to the bank, but it was blocked. Passmore¡¯s guy, posing as a bank teller, would clear the blockage. Then, they¡¯d hit the bank at night.

    Passmore told him to be at the tunnel at 11:00 p.m. Reginald¡¯s clock was set to military time, and he might have had a little too much moonshine, so he showed up four hours early. Whoops. Eventually, the tunnel was clear, and Reginald climbed the ladder, popping out in a crawlspace near the bank. He snuck past the cameras, grabbed everything he could find in the offices, and disabled the security system.

    Time for the vault. A stick of dynamite later, the vault door was no longer a problem. He grabbed what he could from the safety deposit boxes and booked it. He met up with Passmore and handed over the loot. Passmore casually gave him 120,000 RM credits. ¡°Holy crap,¡± Reginald breathed.

    He used the cash to buy the rest of his brewing equipment. Now they were churning out 100 liters of moonshine every few days. Forget the history books; this was the real Renaissance. It went something like this:

    Wake up in the middle of the night. Time for some¡­ experimentation. Take a healthy dose of stolen meds for inspiration. Once you¡¯re hallucinating, go further. Good. But not good enough. Commune with the divine by eating corpse fungus. Boom, divine revelation. Instead of yeast, use toxic mushrooms to make alcohol for cheap. Trust him; it was totally safe. He even drank some himself. Yes, his poop was now glowing, but there was no way to prove a connection.

    Reginald was exhausted, but sleep was for the weak. Every hour he slept was an hour he wasn¡¯t making money. So, he drank 24 liters of tea and stayed awake for 128 hours straight¡ªthe limit before he¡¯d start trying to off himself.

    Armed with his¡­ unique¡­ collection of booze and scrap metal, Reginald hit the market and made millions. Time for more upgrades to ¡°da hood¡±: nice walls, nicer walls, nicest walls. He used the fancy exterior to trick six unsuspecting people into giving him their money. He spent it all on upgrading his own penthouse, apologizing, ¡°Sorry, no plumbing for you guys,¡± as he dropped thousands on pixel art of Jesus.

    These suckers just didn¡¯t understand hard work. Sometimes Reginald had to sit on his couch for a whole 24 hours to passively generate $3,000. It was practically slavery. But hey, he had clean water, a flat-screen, a 3D printer, and he still got molested in his sleep by his crazy neighbor (his choice). All in all, things were great. His apartment was awesome, he¡¯d successfully conned 12 people into living in his slum, and their vacancy rate was 0%. Challenge complete. ¡°Da hood¡± was now officially dope.

    But as a wise man once said, ¡°It¡¯s not enough for me to succeed; others must fail.¡± There were other apartment buildings in town, and Reginald took it personally that people were living there instead of begging to live in his masterpiece. Time for some retaliation.

    The rat farm? Yeah, that got a little out of hand. Reginald had to build a whole fallout shelter just to contain them. These rats laughed at population control. He hadn¡¯t fed them in weeks, and they were still multiplying like crazy. Every container in the building was overflowing with hundreds of live rats. It was a disaster, but disasters were also opportunities.

    Reginald decided to unleash 10,000 rats into every store, park, and apartment in the city. Time to bring the pain and advertise his superior housing. Armed with a refrigerated backpack full of rodents, he hit the town square. ¡°Cry havoc and let slip the rats of war!¡± he declared.

    And that was that. Every inch of the city was now crawling with rats. The only safe place? His apartment building. Time for a celebration. Reginald knew just how to celebrate such a monumental victory.

    Back in his basement, he had a 1,000-liter tank of pure vodka. Time to drink the whole thing. ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking: ¡®Reggie, that¡¯s dangerous!¡¯ Don¡¯t worry, I also bought 900 cigarettes to balance it out.¡±

    The party started. But that wasn¡¯t enough. Reginald pulled out the methanol. ¡°I know the guy who owns this stuff¡­ Oh crap, this is good.¡± He filled his shower with methanol and hopped in. ¡°Oh yeah, yeah, yeah¡­¡±

    Carmelita leaned forward, her smirk widening as Reginald unleashed his rat army. "He''s actually doing it," she muttered, shaking her head. "Ten thousand rats. That''s¡­ impressively disturbing." She watched him prepping his methanol bath. "This guy is something else. How is he even alive?"

    "Alive doing what?" Alam tapped her shoulder, snapping her out of the simulation. "What are you watching? Some snuff film? Hehe." He winked.

    Carmelita jolted, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. She chuckled, trying to play it cool. "Oh, just¡­ a movie. Online." She winked back.

    "An old movie, huh? Good. Anyway, I need more money." Alam wiggled his eyebrows.

    Carmelita laughed. "More money? What for this time? Another casino run?"

    "Nah, silly. Not a gambler. Need it for the campaign."

    Carmelita¡¯s expression turned serious. "Right, the campaign. How much are we talking?"

    "¡­Everything you¡¯ve got."

    Carmelita chuckled. "Everything? That''s a big ask. Must be serious." She leaned back, considering. "You sure you need all of it? Can''t you manage with a little less?"

    "Tried that. Taming the wild east is expensive. Need better comms, better jammers. It''s a mess out there."

    Carmelita nodded, a mix of understanding and concern on her face. "The Eastern Wasteland, yeah. It''s a tough spot. If you need it for comms and to counter the jammers, I''ll see what I can do." She sighed, resigned to digging deep into her own funds. "I''ll scrape together a good amount. Just promise you won¡¯t blow it all at the tables."

    "Thanks¡­ uh¡­ Mom?"

    Carmelita tried to suppress a smile, feigning sternness. "Watch it, ''son.'' Don''t get any ideas just because I''m funding your little war."

    "Got it. See ya later¡­ and¡­ try not to watch too much porn, okay?"alam wink at her before leaving

    Carmelita choked back a laugh, blushing slightly. "Hey! Who do you think I am? I don''t spend all my time watching porn." She waved a hand dismissively, but a smile played on her lips.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    After Alam left, Carmelita went back to the VR headset, curious to see how Reginald''s story played out.

    After his "da hood" success in Finland, Reginald decided he hadn¡¯t quite reached peak capitalism. Time for America. He bribed his way out of Finland and set his sights on the land of opportunity.

    Homelessness was one of America''s best-known epidemics, with people sleeping on park benches, drinking gasoline, and committing insurance fraud just to pay the bills. It wasn''t as fun as it sounded, but Reginald had bigger ambitions. He aimed to become a millionaire, a shallow dream and that''s exactly what he intended to do.

    Reginald found himself in a business management role that allowed him to financially and spiritually enrich himself, albeit through the exploitation of his employees. He was determined to accumulate one million dollars in his bank account¡ªor die trying. "Let''s begin," he thought, feeling a surge of ambition.

    His first step was to purchase a suitcase from Passmore. This was no ordinary suitcase; it had belonged to someone who had drowned at sea. Inside, he discovered an ID that would serve as the foundation for his new identity.

    Much like a god, Reginald set about reinventing himself. After experimenting with different hairstyles, changing the color of his pants, and undergoing a few cosmetic procedures with a doctor who had fled from war in Korea, he emerged as the ultimate business magnate: Conrad Murray. It was time to get to work.

    Conrad''s journey began with an unexpected twist of fate. The first line he encountered in his new diary read, "It''s been three months since grandma died." Reginald quickly summarized the situation: Conrad was now homeless in New York City, but fortunately, his wealthy new Uncle Fred had decided to share some invaluable business knowledge to help him navigate this new life.

    With Uncle Fred¡¯s advice, Conrad¡¯s business skills took off. He learned the art of the deal, the power of networking, and the importance of looking out for number one. Ruthlessness became his brand, and he climbed the corporate ladder fast.

    His first big move was a tech startup with an app that exploited the homeless. Users could hire homeless people for small jobs in exchange for food or shelter. Controversial? Sure. But it took off, and Conrad¡¯s bank account started looking very healthy.

    Conrad¡¯s ultimate goal was an empire that would outlive him. He diversified like crazy¡ªpharmaceuticals, energy, even the booming military industry (thanks, looming World War III). He wanted a legacy, to be remembered as a pillar of capitalism.

    Surviving in New York City was a testament to Conrad''s resourcefulness, aided by the guidance of his wealthy uncle, Fred. Fred''s first piece of advice was to secure an apartment, and Conrad took an unconventional approach¡ªhe ran down the middle of the road, dodging oncoming traffic. His philosophy was simple: if someone wanted to hit him with their car, they would, but they wouldn¡¯t expect him to be in the middle of a four-lane highway at 3 a.m., which he believed made it the safest option.

    The apartment was valued at $26 million. Conrad offered $15. He got laughed at, but that was the point. This was his rock bottom, the starting point for his rise to the top. For now, he rented it for $44 a day.

    In New York, $1,300 got you a cramped 300-square-foot box with no running water. The ¡°bathroom¡± was¡­ an experience. After a seven-hour nap, Conrad set out to get a fridge.

    Time to unleash his superpower: moral bankruptcy. He stole a fridge and sprinted through rush hour traffic, making it back to his apartment, fridge in tow. Risky? Definitely. Profitable? Absolutely.

    Next, groceries. Knowing he couldn''t risk getting banned, Conrad actually paid for these. Uncle Fred was holding back his financial genius until Conrad made $300 on his own, so Conrad got a job at the grocery store. Hired on the spot. The manager clearly recognized a kindred spirit.

    It was 2 p.m. on a Tuesday, and his shift didn¡¯t start for another 20 hours. But Conrad was a go-getter. He started working immediately, even kicking the other cashier off their register. Unpaid overtime? No problem. Conrad worked for six hours before letting the other cashiers take over.

    After sleeping on a bench for 12 hours, he woke up just in time for his first actual shift. Seven hours later, he¡¯d made $175. Though, technically, he still hadn''t been paid.

    Having conquered New York''s harsh realities, Conrad was ready to build his empire. With Uncle Fred¡¯s blessing, he got a $15,000 loan from the bank. Time for business.

    His first venture: a gift shop called "Dumb Shit." He found a spot, signed the lease, and got a mysterious call from Uncle Fred congratulating him. At 1:30 a.m. It was weird since no one had ever actually seen Uncle Fred. Conrad started to wonder if Uncle Fred was just in his head. A coping mechanism for post-capitalist life.

    Regardless, Conrad pushed on. He bought supplies, decorated the shop (causing a traffic jam in the process), and even crashed his car into the Alibaba Clearance Store, just to show he meant business. This, predictably, led to him locking himself out of his now illegally parked car.

    Conrad, ever the resilient businessman, decided to carry the supplies back to the store on foot, sprinting through traffic. The journey was arduous, and they collapsed from exhaustion, waking up in a hospital 600 meters away. The hospital charged Conrad $2,000, a price he begrudgingly paid.

    Revitalized by the wonders of private healthcare, Conrad returned to his gift shop, which was now fully stocked. "Dumb shit" was ready to open for business, with hours of operation set for all day, every day. Conrad manned the till, ready to embark on his first 24-hour shift.

    Despite the challenges, Conrad''s business began to thrive, pulling in a few hundred dollars each day. He realized that he needed to outsource the suffering, so he hired his first employee, Jason Hughes. He wants $15 an hour and part-time work. Let me tell you one thing, Jason: you will never see your family ever again. We hired him immediately, designed his work uniform, and scheduled his hours for the week. He''s working 168 hours a week for the next calendar year

    With Jason on board, Conrad could focus on expanding his business empire. He returned to the recruitment agency to place a bulk order for more employees, determined to build a business that would stand the test of time.

    Conrad''s relentless drive to succeed in the cutthroat world of New York City business was unmatched. Only an amateur business would even consider the concept of closing; Conrad manned the till and prepared for his first 24-hour shift at "Dumb shit." He made it about 12 hours straight with no lunch break before entering a state of exhaustion that precluded him from continuing work.

    he then use his new friend. a new drug, who so strong make him  like a movie watcher than participant in real life,

    I didn''t want Conrad to end up in the hospital again, so I had him wander down the road in his mindless delirium, searching for a park bench to recover his stamina.

    During this time, I also realized that we have several text messages from the city of New York informing us that we are being ticketed $125 every day that our car remains illegally parked. Since Conrad can''t get in the car to move it, he''ll be paying $125 every day for the rest of his natural life. To say this crippled my morale was an understatement.  until finaly he argue if his car is a "performance art piece", then someone buy it. and move the car for him. modern art is indeed a absurd!

    Anyway, we eventually found our way back to the apartment and slept for a few hours. Conrad completed this cycle of suffering for the next few days. We were making money, but this is no way to live. We need to outsource this suffering to someone else.

    I let Conrad off work early today so he could go to a recruitment office to try to find some people to hire. Unfortunately, he collapsed in traffic again, and we woke up at the hospital.when doctor explaining his injuries, and Conrad interrupts to ask about investment opportunities in the hospital''s medical supply chain.

    then he ran back to the recruiting office and placed an order for one employee between the ages of 15 and 31. I decided on this age range because I feel it will be easier to convince a 15-year-old that 24-hour shifts are normal in the adult world.

    Conrad threw himself into his business studies, consuming textbooks and online courses like a man possessed. After thirteen hours, the world began to warp. Numbers danced before his eyes, every conversation became a business negotiation, and he started calculating the profit margins of his own bodily functions. He began to see Jason, his employee, as a liability, a drain on his efficiency. Jason''s suggestion of a "lunch break" was the final straw. "Lunch is for the weak," Conrad muttered, firing him on the spot. "Time is money, and you''re wasting both."

    ¡°Dumb Shit¡± was making decent profit, so Conrad decided to open a second business: a hamburger joint called "Beef and Nothing Else," two doors down. Turns out, nobody in New York liked his burgers. Probably because they¡¯d been sitting on the grill for three days (no freezers). Conrad tried everything, even causing a 47-car pileup in protest. Nothing worked. Twenty parking tickets later, he was briefly bankrupt. Time to cut his losses.

    He had the health department shut down "Beef and Nothing Else" so he could rebrand. He consulted his accountant, who suggested a new mascot: Golgarth. And thus, "Golgaroth''s Treasure," a jewelry store, was born.

    Conrad stocked it with the cheapest, most asbestos-laden jewelry he could find, and profits started rolling in. The business model was simple: find a popular product, find the cheapest supplier, cut corners, and exploit employees. Boom. Profit.

    Conrad¡¯s empire was growing. He was becoming a force to be reckoned with. The sky was the limit.

    Conrad was relentless. He found an underserviced industry, rented a warehouse and storefronts, bought a pink delivery van, hired drivers and a logistics manager, and cut out the middleman by importing directly from China.

    The operation ran smoothly. Goods went to the warehouse, the logistics manager handled distribution, and drivers delivered to the stores. This automated most of the business.

    It took some time (and $50,000 in personal loans) to get it running. With that much debt, Conrad went into hyper-frugality mode. He fired anyone asking for more than $18 an hour and even evicted himself to live in the company van. By day five, finances were stable, bringing in $3,000-$7,000 daily.

    Armed with this knowledge, Conrad expanded rapidly. More warehouses, more storefronts, more overworked employees, more money. Within months, he was selling everything from cigars and wine to donuts, cheap clothes, and even legal services (using, of course, more exploited employees). If it could be made with child labor, Conrad was selling it. $20,000 a day was the new normal.

 Chapter 6 God amongs men

    On Conrad''s penthouse television screen, a vibrant image flickered to life.

    "Coming soon to the NYC  Convention Center: Musk V2!

    ''Stop complaining, start living!'' he booms. ''You can''t take the money with you when you die ¨C even I can''t!''

    Musk V2, the man who changed millions of lives with his best-selling book, The Secret'' is bringing his all-day seminar to town. Expect workshops on creative survival skills:

    <ul>

    <li>Cooking potatoes: A Cooking!</li>

    <li>Dumpster diving: Uncover hidden treasures in the discarded refuse of the wealthy.</li>

    <li>Huffing paint: A surprisingly effective (and affordable) mood enhancer.</li>

    <li>Bathing Alternatives: Discover the joys of a good rain shower or a vigorous rubdown with a damp cloth.</li>

    <li>Pharmaceutical Baking: Turn expired medications into delicious, albeit slightly unpredictable, treats.</li>

    <li>Manifestation: belief something! because i told so</li>

    </ul>

    ''Instead of complaining about being poor, lady, enjoy it!'' Musk V2 bellows.

    ''Musk, I can''t feed my kids!'' a voice cries from the back.

    ''And the rent''s due!'' another chimes in.

    ''Whoa, settle it down!'' Musk V2 commands. ''Are you saying this ain''t the greatest country in the world?''

    A wave of patriotic fervor erupts. ''USA! USA! USA!'' the crowd chants.

    He booms, ''Understand this: it''s okay to be poor. There need to be poor people. We reach our potential when you are the ''yang'' to our ''ying.'' We need you.''

    A voice from the crowd shouts, ''I''ve had to run a bad luck, and I was wondering if the state could help me get back on my feet.''

    Musk V2 scoffs, ''This is the negative, self-obsessed, and greedy talk that doesn''t help anyone! My program will teach you a new outlook on life. Instead of complaining about being poor, enjoy it! Watch TV, don''t vote ¨C who cares?''

    Another voice cries, ''But I''m homeless!''

    ''You''ve got it all wrong!'' Musk V2 declares. ''Society doesn''t owe you anything. The government has better things to worry about, like killing innocent people. You already have everything you need, so enjoy your life!''

    Conrad drained his beer, a cynical glint in his eyes. "They call it the American Dream," he scoffed, "because you practically have to be asleep to believe it." He tossed the empty can aside with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "Time to wake them up."

    According to the numbers, a million dollars was just a month away. Anyone with a fully functioning brain would probably coast, but Conrad decided to double down. He¡¯d been reading "The Secret," a book about the power of manifestation¡ªbasically, if you ask the universe for something hard enough, you¡¯ll get it. The book was vague on the details, but Conrad was sold.

    He decided to manifest more money by hitting up every bank in the city for the maximum loan. He walked away with $900,000 and immediately dumped it all into the highest-risk stock he could find: shoelaces. Time to see if this manifestation thing worked. If it did, he¡¯d be rich tomorrow. If it didn¡¯t, he¡¯d be in jail.

    Conrad woke up on a park bench, stiff and foggy after a 24-hour nap. He checked his phone. His shoelace stock had gone up¡­ 0.002 percent. ¡°Manifestation works!¡± he yelled, like he¡¯d just discovered the fountain of youth,

    Suddenly, he felt like he¡¯d experienced six million years of evolution in seconds. His brain cells ballooned to watermelon size. He saw the rise and fall of humanity across countless dimensions. He felt both insignificant and all-powerful. ¡°This human body can¡¯t handle this power!¡± he thought, on the verge of losing it. What was he even becoming? Something more than just Conrad, that was for sure.

    Speaking of things he couldn¡¯t handle, there was the $900,000 debt. But who cared? He¡¯d unlocked the secrets of manifestation. ¡°I don¡¯t need the old gods anymore,¡± he chuckled, feeling like a god himself. ¡°Everything is mine now!¡± He smirked. If you want results, you gotta take risks. And he was about to take a big one.

    He cashed out his shoelace stock, netting a cool $1,400, and set his sights on 4th Street. ¡°Why not buy or rent every building?¡± he thought, grinning. Two months later, 4th Street was his personal empire of 18 businesses, bringing in $150,000 a day. It only took a week to hit that million-dollar mark. Conrad was officially a millionaire. And a legend in the making.

    Now, about Uncle Fred¡¯s challenge: 100% happiness. To achieve that, Conrad needed to redeem his biggest failure: the disastrous hamburger joint. ¡°I¡¯ll create the most popular fast-food restaurant in New York City!¡± he declared. It might require some¡­ sacrifices. ¡°But hey, a small price for absolution, right?¡±

    Conrad¡¯s plan was insane. He figured every car in the city had cash in it, and he needed that cash. ¡°The problem with capitalism,¡± he mused, ¡°is that people can choose not to give me their money.¡± He needed a solution. But first, he needed more money. With about $1.5 million (mostly borrowed), he chartered a boat to international waters for some tax-free gambling.

    He plunked down the whole $1.5 million on black at the roulette table. The wheel spun, the ball bounced, and¡­ jackpot! He walked away with $2.6 million. ¡°Let¡¯s do that again,¡± he said. And he did. He won again. He returned to New York with $4.5 million. Any banker would be jealous.

    But he wasn¡¯t done. He bought every single vehicle from every dealership in town. Weeks later, he had a fleet: 75 trucks, 200 vans, 150 sedans, and 25 18-wheelers. Why? He was going to block every street in the city except 4th. ¡°A traffic funnel,¡± he grinned. ¡°To force all of New York City straight to my donut shop.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Over the next month, he orchestrated a city-wide blockade. Hospitals, docks¡ªeverything was sealed off. New York became a maze of his vehicles. Meanwhile, in his warehouses, he stockpiled 200,000 donuts and 600,000 cups of coffee. ¡°Hunger? Desperation? Perfect! They¡¯ll have no choice but to come to me.¡± He¡¯d sell each donut for $800. That''s $160 million. ¡°Take that, capitalism!¡± he chuckled.

    As the city descended into chaos, Conrad reveled in his power. ¡°This is it!¡± he thought. ¡°I¡¯ve taken an entire city hostage, and they just want my donuts!¡±

    Then, in a cosmic twist, he reached a state of ¡°quantum criticality.¡± His body, now overflowing with wealth and ambition, underwent a transformation so profound that he simply vanished, leaving only the echoes of his maniacal laughter and a city forever changed.

    As his empire expanded into real estate, Conrad became a titan, bulldozing neighborhoods for luxury developments. But with power came problems: lawsuits, protests, death threats. He hired an army of lawyers and guards. In Conrad Murray¡¯s world, it was eat or be eaten. And he was hungry.

    Years flew by, and Conrad¡¯s wealth ballooned. He was a household name, synonymous with success¡­ but at a cost. His personal life was a disaster, his health was tanking, and his conscience was long gone.

    One night, in a haze of moonshine and whatever else he¡¯d gotten his hands on, Conrad stumbled to a drawer. Under a pile of fake IDs, he found one that read "Reginald Meatwagon." He stared in the mirror, barely recognizing the man staring back.

    Conrad Murray, self-proclaimed god among men, had conquered the world with ambition and money. Now, on his deathbed (or so he thought), the possibilities stretched before him: colonize the moon? Start a cult? With his fortune, he could buy off the US¡¯s toxic industries, stop wars, even fund research to fight the Finnish fungus.

    But one question kept nagging him: What¡¯s the point? In a final act of defiance, he decided to chase immortality. Why not? He threw a mountain of cash at a crazy science project and created a mercenary agency called ¡°Mammoth¡± to protect his investments.

    Mammoth thrived, stirring up small wars across North America to keep his businesses booming. They pushed imperialism and capitalism while pretending to be all about democracy, crushing any anti-imperialist movements that got in the way. A stable economy was key for his automated money machines.

    Then the housing bubble burst. Everyone had been buying houses, thinking prices would only go up. They didn¡¯t. Banks, having lent money to everyone and their dog, were in trouble. Businesses couldn''t get loans, people lost jobs, and the economy tanked. Millions lost everything.

    Ironically, while two million people were homeless, sixteen million houses sat empty. Conrad just kept building, ignoring reality. Build, profit, repeat. Homes were commodities, not shelters.

    Then, his scientists (the same ones who¡¯d given him those weird red potions back in Finland) made a breakthrough. Conrad, in a fit of hubris, decided to freeze himself, hoping to wake up in a perfect world.

    As Carmelita watch to the tale of Conrad Murray unfolding, she found herself equal parts horrified and intrigued. This man''s rise to success and power was built on a series of wildly ambitious (some might say insane) plans that seemed destined for disaster, yet, somehow, he kept achieving one victory after another.

    But at what cost? The image painted of a man consumed by greed and the relentless pursuit of wealth stirred a mixture of revulsion and fascination in her. She couldn''t help but wonder where it would lead, as Conrad''s journey took another unexpected turn into the realm of scientific experiments and frozen dreams.

    Two centuries later, he thawed out, disillusioned and furious. The world was a wasteland, ravaged by war and disease. Cities were crumbling ruins. The air was toxic. Not exactly the utopia he¡¯d imagined. His New York empire was underwater; a boat rested on top of his old penthouse. What the hell had happened? ¡°Well,¡± he muttered, ¡°at least the property values have¡­ stabilized.¡± And the ultimate insult? Nobody remembered him. Not a single commemorative plaque, no historical documentaries, not even a misspelled Wikipedia entry. The ingratitude of future generations was truly breathtaking.

    But he was different. The two centuries in ice had changed him. He was immune to time and disease, didn¡¯t need sleep or food (good thing, because the local food scene was¡­ questionable).

    Driven mad by the state of things, he renamed himself Wraith. Conrad Murray was dead. Long live¡­ Wraith. It sounded suitably dramatic, and frankly, he couldn''t be bothered to come up with anything more creative.

    In this bleak new world, he found a kindred spirit: a young, charismatic, and ruthless warlord named Zion. Zion dreamed of a new world order. Wraith, now immortal, became his mentor, sharing his ¡°wisdom.¡± What else was an immortal supposed to do?

    Together, they set out to rebuild civilization. It was a noble goal, he supposed, if rebuilding meant replacing crumbling concrete with slightly less crumbling concrete

    Their first challenge was the Citadel, a fortress that was the last stand of the old world''s power structures a remnant of Us goverment.

    It was a monument to the old world''s bureaucratic inefficiency, now populated by equally inefficient Warlord.  It was a symbol of everything Zion despised¡ªa relic of the past, clinging to power through fear and oppression.

    Wraith and Zion laid siege to the Citadel, a battle that was as epic as it was bizarre. It was like watching a chess game between a grandmaster and a monkey with a hand grenade.zion with other warlord is charge into the stronghold. thousand over thousand has lost. soldier just order to advancing without weapon to be expected scavanging weapon to his deceased comrade in street, Zion, a whirlwind of manic energy, led the charge, Wraith watched from a safe distance, offering cynical commentary "A sound strategy," he remarked as another wave of soldiers was mowed down, "if your goal is to run out of soldiers before they run out of bullets." Ultimately, sheer attrition won the day."

    When the Citadel finally fell, it wasn''t just a fortress that had been conquered but the very idea of the old world. From the ruins, Wraith and Zion built their new empire, a society that embraced change and innovation with the enthusiasm of a kid in a sim city games,

    "Remember zoning laws?" he''d ask, watching Zion haphazardly build a nuclear power plant next to a daycare center. "Those were good times."

    wraith now stand in top of once white house, and at the horizon when tall buildings crumbling. smoke rising, and jets plane dog fighting with endless foes,

    ¡°Progress,¡± Wraith sighed, ¡°It¡¯s a beautiful thing.¡± He reflected on his past life as a capitalist, "I built an empire on exploiting people''s desire for cheap goods. These guys are building one on exploiting people''s fear of death. It''s¡­ surprisingly similar."

    wraith then watch sunset in top of statue of liberty which now half submerged from sea rising.

    I journeyed, long in walking, far beyond the place of stopping Where there was no more returning to the people I had known. I saw the world forgotten, where the grass gives up on growing And I knew that I would never make another journey home.

    Crying in a thousand voices to its desolate god-king. And the music of its crying, never dead, ever dying,

    I long for water quenching Of my thirst, unending, nothing that remains can satisfy. For my voice has joined the chorus ever more, ever mourning. Ever singing, ever hungry. Ever dying, never die.

 Chapter 7 Rise of New Order

    The VR simulation flatlined, then faded to black. The Reginald saga had abruptly ended. Carmelita shook her head, momentarily disoriented. The ruined Citadel, the rise of Wraith¡­ it was a lot to take in.

    She glanced at the data chip, suddenly curious about what came next. She sighed, removed her veil, revealing long red hair, and contemplated the connections. Zion, Wraith, Ruan Mei¡­

    She dove back into the archived documents from the lab, finding more data chips. She was looking for a specific name, but Ruan Mei¡¯s wasn''t there. Disappointed, she tried again.

    This time, she found what she wanted: data chips belonging to Zion himself, the leader of the Red Nation. She took a deep breath, put the VR headset back on, and prepared to explore their shared history.

    ¡°So tell me, Zion. What are you going to do when you grow up, and how will you achieve it? And most importantly¡­ why?¡± Wraith¡¯s voice echoed in Zion¡¯s mind.

    After World War III, a young warlord named Zion emerged from the ruins. He¡¯d been shaped by a Spartan-like culture, forging him into a visionary with one goal: to build a better world. Zion wasn''t just a dreamer; he was charismatic, ruthless, and determined to reshape the world in his image.

    First, he needed allies and enemies. In North America, scattered tribes lived in huts, practicing a Stone Age-esque hunter-gatherer lifestyle. They called themselves tribes¡ªa simple name for a neo-age, woke culture in the post-WW3 world. They valued community and freedom, which really bugged Zion. Their rejection of capitalism and money especially got under his skin.

    Zion gathered his crew: Jozen, a technocrat with a leftover US Atlantic and Pacific fleet, and Kassandra, who¡¯d invented an avocado-cocaine fusion. Why Kassandra? Because her avocados were essential for keeping his troops going. It wasn¡¯t easy leading an army when they were constantly dodging poisoned arrows and bullets.

    Zion laid out his vision: a new world order based on meritocracy, inspired by Roman civilization. This included some¡­ radical ideas, like gender segregation. He called it a ¡°farm,¡± where fertile women lived separately from average men to incentivize the men to fight harder and maintain the population.

    Radical? Sure. But in a world falling apart, nothing seemed too extreme.

    Despite claiming he wasn¡¯t racist, Zion had a serious dislike for the tribal factions roaming the wastelands. ¡°I¡¯m not racist,¡± he¡¯d say, ¡°but I¡¯d prefer they kept to themselves. They¡¯re not a threat, they just hoard bodies and junk. It¡¯s annoying, and I want it to stop.¡±

    With a plan in place, Zion armed his colonists with the latest bolt-action rifles. With their superior tech, he was confident they could crush the tribes. They arrived at the nearest tribal base, dug trenches, and set up a heavy machine gun turret. The plan: drive the tribals into the line of fire.

    It didn¡¯t go as smoothly as he¡¯d hoped. The tribes fought back fiercely. Zion¡¯s forces took heavy losses from poisoned arrows, darts, even some medieval-style catapults, forcing a tactical retreat. He left some of his people behind.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be like the US getting beat by the Afghans! No! I have to be better!¡± Zion yelled at his reflection, staring at a scar on his forehead from the encounter.

    He knew he needed a new approach. Maybe brute force wasn''t the only way.

    As he retreated, he brainstormed. He had to be smarter. They kidnapped some tribal merchants to use as human shields while saboteurs moved in on the tribal stronghold.

    They attacked again, decimating the tribes and sending the survivors running. Among them was Norman, a tribal member who¡¯d switched sides. He said he joined the tribe for the orgies. Zion gave him a pistol to prove his loyalty, and Norman happily executed some downed survivors, clearly enjoying it a little too much. Kinky people, am I right?

    ¡°We¡¯ve only destroyed one base,¡± Zion mused. ¡°But the tribes will learn to fear us. They don¡¯t yet.¡±

    On their way back, they were ambushed. The attacker was Salamander, a one-man army with an anti-material rifle.

    Zion wasn¡¯t giving up anyone. He prepared to fight. Salamander was a serious threat, a crack shot who¡¯d already taken out a whole squad. Zion decided to use a poison dart he¡¯d scavenged from a tribal base. After force-feeding Salamander an avocado and some psychological torture, Zion threatened to cut off his avocado supply if he didn¡¯t join him. Only Zion controlled the avocado drug market, after all.

    Salamander agreed. Now he¡¯d help Zion wipe out the tribal scum.

    As his soldiers moved into position for the next assault, one soldier, Break, lagged behind. He¡¯d lost a leg to some tribal traps and landslides.

    While they attacked the tribal base, the tribes launched a counter-attack on Zion¡¯s colony. Not a huge problem; Zion¡¯s kill box would handle it. He even convinced a more ¡°civilized¡± faction to join his crusade, and they showed up to help.

    They were making progress, destroying tribal bases one by one, but each raid came at a cost. In their fourth attack, they lost many soldiers.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, it¡¯s okay, it¡¯s okay,¡± Zion muttered, trying to convince himself. ¡°It¡¯s easier this way.¡±

    But the losses weighed heavily on him. Salamander died from his wounds, and Zion felt a pang of genuine grief. ¡°Those sub-humans took you from us,¡± he said, rage simmering beneath his calm exterior. Even with his modern army, injuries were piling up. Some wouldn¡¯t be coming back.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Zion¡¯s resolve hardened. Modernization wasn¡¯t enough. He needed a futuristic military.

    Equipped with advanced weapons and armor, the injuries became less of a problem. They had the firepower to obliterate another tribal base. As his military deployed, Zion got some good news: he¡¯d wiped out most of the nearby tribal bases.

    Despite the overwhelming firepower of the bomber against the technologically inferior tribal factions, Zion felt it was still insufficient. He yearned to instill true terror in the hearts of the tribals, the kind of fear that grips a person when all hope is lost. That was the lesson these creatures needed to learn, and for that, he turned his attention to the power of atoms.

    "The moral of the story," Zion mused, "is that I need nukes. But to get the nukes Daddy promised me, I have to complete a series of prerequisites. First, I must navigate the basic energy weapons tree."

    He hastily assembled a collection of lab equipment he wasn''t sure he''d ever use¡ªafter all, it was his first foray into lab work. Once he completed the energy weapons research, the option to develop the aptly named Liberator nuke appeared. However, he first needed to build a nuclear reactor. Although using remnants of the U.S. nuclear arsenal was considered taboo and forbidden in their religion¡ªespecially after the world had been devastated by the same weapons¡ªZion found a loophole in the scripture. While using old nukes for war was forbidden, creating new ones was perfectly acceptable.

    Constructing that reactor was no small feat. He needed to piece together a research reactor, a reactor core, a turbine, a cooling system with pipes, a power transformer, and a reactor control computer. It was a monumental task, but now he could fire up the reactor and prepare his fuel rods for plutonium conversion.

    "Why isn''t my reactor generating electricity?" Zion grumbled. "Oh right, it is, but my batteries are still dead. I''m an idiot. While I wait for my fuel to deplete, I might as well attack a few tribal bases."

    As Zion expanded his operations, he found himself frustrated by the landscape littered with trees. He cursed himself for not bringing incendiary rounds for his bomber; all he had were high-explosive ones that felt useless in this situation.

    "Next time, remember the incendiary rounds," he reminded himself.

    This base lacked the thick foliage of the last one, but the rain would soon douse any chance of his bombs igniting. Another mission down the drain.

    "Oh, come on! They all survived? I just want to commit war crimes! Is that too much to ask?" he exclaimed in exasperation.

    After exhausting his nuclear fuel, Zion finally had enough resources to create plutonium. He loaded it into the processor, knowing it would take months to finish.

    "Back to what I do best," Zion muttered, gearing up for another round of¡­ population control.

    While he waited for more plutonium, Zion sent his ground forces west. Over the next few months, they systematically cleared out the remaining tribal outposts. Villages fell one by one, inhabitants scattered or forced into submission. Only three bases remained, belonging to the White Cat Curro. These guys worshipped a mutated cat that apparently changed color in high radiation.

    "I''m a cultist. I''m here to sacrifice you to our cat god," one tribal yelled, charging at Zion. Zion, feeling surprisingly sporting, met him head-on with his firefighter axe. After cleaning off the axe, Zion surveyed the scene. His soldiers shivered in their inadequate gear. ¡°They worship a cat?¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Their religion is¡­ unique,¡± Jozen¡¯s voice crackled through the speaker on his blue armor. ¡°They believe this mutated cat is a divine protector against the radiation.¡±

    The initial attack against the Curro was a mess. Zion¡¯s bolt-action rifles were good at long range, but the Curro were experts at guerilla warfare in the icy terrain. They used hidden tunnels, ice traps, and poisoned darts, picking off Zion¡¯s men. He was forced to retreat, leaving behind equipment and bodies.

    ¡°I will not be humiliated by these primitives,¡± Zion seethed, nursing a poisoned dart wound. He ordered the captured tribal merchants to be used as human shields.

    The White Cat Curro made a desperate last stand, managing to kill one of Zion¡¯s companions.

    ¡°No, Walton! Those savages killed one of our own,¡± Zion declared. ¡°We¡¯re trying to improve your lives by eradicating all of you. Can¡¯t they see that?¡±

    Just then, his plutonium was ready, but not enough for a warhead. He had to repeat the process, creating more plutonium (and the inevitable nuclear waste). A responsible leader would have stored it safely. Zion, fortunately, wasn''t responsible.

    He had some transport pods lying around, so they loaded up the nuclear waste and shipped it off to the nearest tribal settlement. With the help of his scientists and builders, they assembled a missile and, after getting more plutonium, a warhead.

    Time for a test run. But the missile couldn¡¯t reach any tribal settlements. After all that effort, the game wouldn¡¯t let him wipe anyone off the map just yet.

    So, pirates it was. A massive fireball erupted. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d call that a success,¡± Zion mused.

    To increase the missile''s range, he needed a guidance system, which meant more nuking for data. He built another nuke, gathered more data, and finally, his third nuke was ready. He¡¯d already nuked the nearby pirate bases, but some tribals were now conveniently in range.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how that happened, but we¡¯ll take it,¡± Zion decided. ¡°This time, I want someone to observe the effects of a low-yield nuke on tribals. For science, or something.¡±

    They outfitted Norman with a questionable radiation suit. ¡°I hope he survives. He needs to bring back the ship. That¡¯s more important than him,¡± Zion clarified.

    Norman arrived to witness the ¡°cleansing,¡± and they launched the Tribal Liquefier 9000. ¡°That was beautiful,¡± Zion exclaimed. ¡°Like my eyes were blessed by the gods.¡±

    With the guidance system complete, the White Cat Curro were officially in nuke range. But first, it was Lingard¡¯s birthday. ¡°Happy birthday, Lingard! We¡¯ll celebrate the only way we know how,¡± Zion announced.

    ¡°Hope you had a good one, Linda,¡± Zion said, pressing the launch button.

    They spent the next while launching ground assaults, making more plutonium, ¡°gifting¡± the tribals with nuclear waste (and free cancer), and generally waging nuclear war until only one tribal base remained, located in the northern polar ice caps of Canada.

    ¡°Oh boy, do I have something special planned for them,¡± Zion grinned.

    Low-yield nukes were an option, but high-yield was much more fun. Norman, back in his radiation suit, boarded a new ship (they weren¡¯t about to risk the good one). He took off, traveling at what Zion considered a snail¡¯s pace. ¡°That¡¯s three times speed, by the way, Norman! Pick it up! We¡¯ve got genocide to do!¡±

    Upon Norman¡¯s arrival, they launched the final Liberator nuke. ¡°Thank you,¡± Zion said.

    Surprisingly, Norman survived the blast, though he was downed. No rescue mission, though. Too much fallout.

    Zion, ever the fan of historical figures, mused, ¡°I saw, I conquered. I depopulated, and my faction has a cool name: the Free World.¡±

    With all the tribals gone, the world would finally know peace. His colony would thrive. But Jozen, his once loyal ally, had other plans. His fleet began raiding Zion¡¯s coastal territories. Turns out, Jozen had been cozying up to pirates the whole time, and Zion¡¯s little nuke spree hadn¡¯t exactly improved his reputation. Zion watched his port get destroyed in disbelief. He learned a harsh lesson: ¡°A traitor is worse than a tribal.¡± From that day on, any traitor in the Free World would face a fate worse than death: nuclear waste cleanup duty. A slow, agonizing, radioactive death.

 Chapter 8 Birth of nation

    Carmelita''s expression darkened as the story progressed. Zion''s ruthless quest for power and "purification" was deeply disturbing. His use of nuclear weapons, the weaponization of radiation, the casual sacrifice of his own people¡ªit was all callous, inhuman. And then there was his treatment of women, the twisted "farm" for fertile females, his obsession with genetic purity. It painted a terrifying picture of a man driven by fanatical ideology.

    A message flickered into her VR display: "You have spent 2 hours in the virtual world. Return to the real world, Ma''am? Or continue?"

    Carmelita paused, the message momentarily pulling her from Zion''s world. The real world called, with its own set of complexities. But the virtual world offered a compelling escape, a chance to witness history firsthand¡­ the history of the Red Nation.

    She hesitated. Logic urged her back to reality, to her responsibilities. But the pull of the virtual world, the desire to understand Zion and his rise to power, was strong.

    In the aftermath of his conquests on the West Coast, Zion had become a major power in North America. He''d also developed a new approach to warfare. "Nukes are messy," he¡¯d declared. "Slaves are much more efficient." He realized that obliterating populations was counterproductive; he needed manpower to build his new nation. Enslavement would provide that.

    He also found that ruling a diverse population was¡­ complicated. So, he opted for a classic solution: bread and games. He built a grand colosseum and took to the arena himself, becoming a gladiator hero to boost his political standing. He always chose a worthy opponent; Zion had a taste for a real challenge.

    As he delved deeper into the intricacies of ruling, Zion realized that the concept of "tribal" was not merely a race or a group of people; it was an idea. This notion stemmed from a group of bored individuals who, during the aftermath of a global EMP event, found themselves trapped in a library. They immersed themselves in stories of ancient Americans who hunted bison and farmed for sustenance, aspiring to eliminate the concept of money altogether.

    Zion recognized the danger of this mindset for his vision of a new world order. Without an understanding of industry, these tribes rejected the very foundations of progress, which was why they had fought with Stone Age tactics in the past. The absence of industry meant no guns, and without guns, there could be no conquest¡ªan alarming prospect for his ambitions.

    ¡°i must destroy all those books!¡± zion declare. and with that. he had reason to wage war, again.

    Keith, one of Zion''s lieutenants¡ªa burly man wielding a massive shield¡ªgripped his pistol and said to the red-headed Zion, "We all know your arena skills, but war is a different beast."

    "You''ll see," Zion replied with a confident smirk, ready to embrace the chaos.

    Later, amidst a deafening cannon barrage, Keith shouted, "The enemy''s fortified the mountains!"

    Zion''s eyes narrowed. "You will charge head-on while I flank them from the side."

    In the Barlas camp, a soldier yelled, "The free world is storming the front!" Barlas sneered, "Fools! Unleash the artillery on them!"

    "Barlas''s artillery rained down on Keith''s advancing troops, but it was a feint. Zion, leading a small strike force, scaled the cliffs under cover of the barrage, taking the enemy from behind. The Barlas flag was torn down, replaced by the crimson banner of the Free World. "Look, comrade!" Keith exclaimed, adrenaline surging. "It''s time to advance!"

    Later, Zion confronted Barlas in his tent. Without warning, Barlas fired at him, but Zion deflected the bullet effortlessly. "Follow me," he commanded, his voice cold and steady.

    Barlas, bewildered, trailed behind Zion outside the camp. Zion gestured to a woman and some children bound near his men. "Do you recognize them?" he asked, a sinister smile creeping across his face.

    Barlas spat to the side, realization dawning. "I know now. You want to humiliate me in front of my own family?"

    "If you lose this duel, your family will be sent to the farms," Zion declared, discarding his weapon with a casual flick.

    "You''re a maniac duelist, huh?" Barlas shot back defiantly. The two men clashed in a brutal hand-to-hand fight, and after a fierce struggle, Zion pinned Barlas down, delivering a final, crushing blow that silenced him forever.

    Later, Zion watched the aftermath on the battlefield at evening. Gunshots could still be heard as some soldiers tried to loot and kill the remaining survivors.

    "We lost about 1400 men," Keith reported.

    "This is nothing," Zion replied, "the road to California is still long..."

    As he walked away, he overheard Keith muttering to another officer, "Fourteen hundred men¡­ for a few cannons and some farmland. Is this what victory looks like?" Zion''s jaw tightened. He knew the whispers would spread. He needed a swift victory, something to silence the dissent. California would have to wait. First, he had to solidify his hold on this new territory.

    In the newly conquered territory, Zion erected a temple to Julius Caesar, channeling his frustrations through political maneuvers and the thrill of battle. However, time was not on his side. While his war efforts progressed, prolonged conflict was taking a toll on morale and the economy. The people needed rest and a chance to rebuild, prompting Zion to expedite his plans and accept vassalage.

    One day, two men arrived at Zion''s camp: Corvo from Cascadia and Bartoleme from Las Vegas, responding to his invitation.

    "We come from Cascadia, and he''s from Las Vegas," Corvo stated.

    The guard nodded. "Very well, but remember the rules once you enter the tent. Don''t discuss how you treat your women in front of him."

    Corvo raised an eyebrow but complied. After wishing them luck, the two men entered Zion''s camp, kneeling before him. Corvo presented a chest, while Bartoleme offered a suitcase. Zion acknowledged their gifts.

    "There are two rules if you wish to join the Khaganate," Zion declared. "First, do not question my war strategies. Second, all your women will be sent to the farms."

    The men exchanged puzzled glances.

    "We have no issue with the first," Corvo said, his voice steady. "But what about the second?"

    Zion regarded Corvo for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between them, a heavy weight in the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "You must prove your worth." he continue ¡°either in the arena or in battle. I don''t care if you''re the leader of Cascadia; in this new nation, everyone is equal. Cascadia has been idle, so you must demonstrate your loyalty first," Zion replied firmly.

    Later, as they exited the camp, Bartoleme remarked sarcastically, "Congratulations, you''ve saved Cascadia from Zion''s invasion. But farewell to your wives, heh..."

    Corvo frowned. "How can you still smile like that?"

    Bartoleme shrugged. "In Las Vegas, many women are already sterile. Zion doesn''t want those women on his farms, so..."

    Corvo nodded, understanding. "Oh, I see... Do you have any children?"

    "No, I don''t," Bartoleme replied.

    "And that''s what makes us different..." Corvo murmured.

    Weeks later, Corvo watched in horror as a line of women was dragged to trucks in the city. "Oh God, please forgive me," he whispered, realizing the full extent of Zion''s rule.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    "Then, sleek, futuristic aircraft descended from the sky, landing heavily in Zion''s camp. His radar systems hadn''t even registered their approach. Soldiers in gleaming white armor emerged, their weapons unlike anything Zion had ever seen. One of them approached, holding out a data pad. ''Warlord Zion,'' the soldier said, his voice amplified by a built-in speaker. ''You are summoned to the Citadel of the White Nation. The New World Council has matters to discuss with you.''

    This council, a more effective version of the old United Nations, The world is not entirely lawless; it is governed by the New World Council (NWC). The NWC consists of four major nations, each identified by a color nickname for easier recognition in a chaotic world.

    First is the White Nation, also known as the Holy People Council. These survivors from Madagascar endured a nuclear holocaust and a great flood, preserving advanced technology that allows them to operate sophisticated factories and even flying cars. Uniquely, they are ruled by artificial intelligence.

    Next is the Yellow Nation, referred to as the Golden Caravan. They are a modern nomadic horde equipped with armed trains, located in what was once Europe.

    The third is the Black Nation, or the Great Caliphate, named for its oil-rich resources. Situated in the Middle East, they have adopted a somewhat fundamentalist ideology following the death of their messiah centuries ago after defeating the Dajjal.

    Finally, there is the Pink Nation,or the sisterhood of south, a feminist power base in Central Africa.

    These four major nations have decided to restrain smaller nations and warlords like Zion from waging war before the year''s end, or they will face the consequences of their military might.

    To join the NWC, Zion must race against time to strengthen his position and conquer as much land as possible to secure his own color in this new order. However, wargames are not simply about deploying soldiers in empty territories; he must be strategic and avoid the wastelands.

    Later, on the East Coast, a Los angles, coastal city fortified city with a single highway in and out was spotted, surrounded by desert and hilly terrain¡ªperfect for Zion''s forces to make a grand entrance.

    as place of birth place of cinema. capturing the movie tech will be boost his reputation. war is not about battles. but about propaganda. capture this mean complete conquest.

    The general examined the map, scratching his head. "Well, folks, we have two options: we can either brave the treacherous sea or take our chances overland. But let''s be real, they''ve probably turned the desert into a minefield by now," he said, shaking his head.

    Gen2 piped up, "Yeah, too bad we don''t have Jozen anymore. If we had a competent navy, we could¡ª"

    Zion''s eyes narrowed, and he lunged at Gen2, hands around his throat. "Don''t you dare utter that cursed name again!" he snarled, his fury palpable. Gen2 nodded vigorously, realizing he had just stepped on a landmine of his own.

    Keith, sensing the tension, suggested, "Before we launch a major attack, it seems we need to cleanse the officers first, Zion."

    Zion agreed. "Yes, send the new officers to lead the first wave."

    Gen1, the first general, smirked. "Ah, sending them to clear the mines? I like that."

    Later, on the battlefield, Keith turned to Gen1 and asked, "Ever seen a World War I documentary?"

    Gen1 lowered his binoculars, looking puzzled. "No, why?"

    Keith chuckled darkly. "Well, you''re about to witness it firsthand¡ªthousands of people advancing in waves, then snap¡ªthey''re gone. Just like that!"

    After the initial wave, Zion surveyed the battlefield like a kid in a candy store¡ªif that candy store was filled with land mines and the candy was made of blood. "Alright, folks, the land mines should be nicely cleared after the first wave. Some groups can advance further before they meet their glorious end. Send the second wave in again before we roll out the tanks. Let¡¯s keep the chaos rolling!"

    Gen1 nodded. "Yes, sir!"

    In the tank line, Keith leaned over to Kassandra, a striking figure in her black military suit adorned with a skull symbol "Your turn will come after the second infantry wave."

    Kassandra, preparing for battle, said, "I hope this isn''t like the Golan battle. I''ll have bulldozers ready on the second tank line."

    Keith encouraged her, "You always know what you''re doing. Good luck."

    Kassandra closed her tank lid, signaling her readiness. "Cavalry, let''s roll."

    As the dust settled from the fierce battle, Kassandra''s tank group advanced into a chaotic landscape, littered with craters from cannon fire, broken barbed wire, trenches, and a buffet of dead bodies. It was a real-life horror show, and they were the main attraction.

    Zion, leading the infantry, swaggered down Kassandra''s tank trail like he was strutting down a catwalk. Corvo and Keith watched from the rear, their expressions a mix of disbelief and mild amusement.

    "Wait, he''s jumping into the battle himself?" Corvo asked, eyebrows shooting up.

    Keith smirked, "Of course! Why don¡¯t you join him? It¡¯s not like you have anything better to do."

    Corvo fell silent, contemplating his life choices.

    Keith continued, "If you keep this up, you won''t gain any position in this country."

    Corvo sighed. "I don''t want anything. I just want to see my wife and child again."

    Keith punched Corvo''s shoulder playfully. "And this is your golden ticket, my friend! This might be the last front in North America. If you and your army succeed, you¡¯ll be rolling in rewards¡ªmaybe even a family reunion!"

    Corvo squinted through his binoculars. "Who''s the woman with the tank?"

    Keith replied, "That¡¯s Kassandra. She¡¯s like you¡ªa vassal of Zion. She has territory in South America."

    Corvo raised an eyebrow. "Kassandra? The leader of the Crimson Eagle? Why did she join Zion? Her territory is thousands of kilometers away."

    Keith shrugged. "She¡¯s not like us. Most of us joined Zion to survive. But she seems to have her own agenda, probably because of her war with Jozen. She needs allies... or maybe just a good excuse to blow things up."

    Corvo nodded, understanding the game. "Many nations rise and fall quickly after the great war. The Crimson Eagle is one of the few that has managed to hold on¡ªlike a cockroach in a nuclear apocalypse."

    Later, on the battlefield, the first line of tanks was obliterated by enemy RPGs and cannon bunkers, turning the landscape into a twisted metal graveyard. people burning alive at inside their tanks

    Kassandra, undeterred, commanded, "I expected this. Quickly, use the bulldozers to clear the tank wreckage in front!"

    Between the burning tanks, Zion and his men charged forward, launching an all-out assault on the enemy positions like a bunch of caffeinated squirrels.

    Corvo, watching the chaos unfold, quipped, "Look at him! He¡¯s using the wreckage and smoke as shields. That¡¯s both brave and utterly bonkers. Is he always like this?"

    Keith chuckled, "Oh, absolutely! It¡¯s like a circus act, but with more explosions!"

    Corvo, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and questionable judgment, rallied his troops. "The battle will soon end! Cascadia forces, prepare! We will capture that hill!" He glanced at the young and old soldiers, all equally confused but ready to charge.

    Keith wished him luck and handed Corvo a red banner. "Good luck."

    Corvo rushed forward with his men, holding the red banner high.

    Zion, seeing the red banner on the hill, asked, "Who is that?"

    Leon, another officer, replied, "A new officer from Cascadia."

    Zion recognized him. "Ah, Corvo. Very well, prepare yourselves. California is within reach!"

    The men taunted, "Highway to hell!"

    The Khaganate generals and Zion stood atop a hill, gazing down at California. They had captured the hill, and beyond it lay the once-fortified city of Los Angeles. After the sea had risen, the city had transformed into a Venice-like maze, with only one road in and out.

    Keith pointed out a slight hiccup. "We have a small issue. Our forces will run into refugee groups on the highway. If we wait for them to pass, we¡¯ll lose the element of surprise."

    Zion, seizing the moment, declared, "That means the highway isn¡¯t mined... Kassandra!"

    Kassandra, clearly thrilled, sighed heavily. "What now?"

    Zion commanded, "Use your tanks to clear the path."

    Kassandra rolled her eyes. "okay boss, but this better not turn into a mess."

    Corvo, hesitant, tried to intervene. "Wait!"

    Zion stared at Corvo, and Keith tried to dismiss him, but Zion silenced him. "What are you thinking, Corvo?"

    All the generals looked at Corvo, tension high.

    Corvo suggested, "Let my forces follow right behind Kassandra."

    Zion accepted. "Agreed."

    Later, Kassandra questioned Corvo''s strategy. "Why are your militia forces behind me? They''re just children and old people. You can''t even match the speed of my tanks."

    Corvo remained silent, determined.

    Kassandra, annoyed, said, "Fine, don''t bother me later."

    The cavalry thundered down the highway to California, barreling toward a sea of desperate refugees.

    An old man turned to Corvo, bewildered. "Why are we hauling so little firepower and so much medical gear?"

    Corvo sighed heavily, "Our goal here is to... at least reduce the death toll..."

    Moments later, Kassandra''s tanks plowed through the refugees, turning the highway into a scene of utter horror as they obliterated everything in their path.

    Corvo, horrified, bellowed, "Move! Get out of the way or you''ll be crushed!"

    His men scrambled to save as many refugees as they could, but the sheer number was overwhelming. The Khaganate''s main army surged forward, using the cleared highway as their gateway.

    Keith, spotting Corvo tending to the wounded, called out, "Corvo! Use my medical supplies. Our artillery team hardly touches them!"

    Corvo, drenched in blood, nodded gratefully. "Thanks, I appreciate it..."

    a highway turn into red,,

    meawhile kassandra, leading her tank division, was giddy with anticipation. "HAH! We''re almost there! Tell Corvo to scout ahead!" she commanded.

    The operator hesitated. "But ma''am, Corvo is far behind, focused on the refugees."

    Kassandra scoffed, "WUT? That guy... Fine! Hold your positions, boys. We¡¯ll wait for the stragglers."

    On the California side, a soldier reported, "Sir, the enemy is closing in!"

    The commander was stunned. "What! How is that possible? They should still be at the border! Are the anti-tank positions ready?"

    The soldier grimaced. "No, sir, they¡¯re not ready, and Jozen''s reinforcements haven''t arrived... What do we do?"

    The commander sighed, "They¡¯re capable of slaughtering innocents on the highway just to get here faster... Alright, prepare the white flag."

    Later, all enemies surrendered, and Zion''s convoy rolled triumphantly into the city. He stepped forward to deliver a speech:

    "Citizens of California, I stand before you today as your new leader. I have vanquished our foes and united North America under one flag. This is a historic day, but it¡¯s just the beginning of our journey.

    "Our nation is forged in blood and fire. We have endured much, but we have persevered. We are a strong and resilient people, and we will conquer any challenge that dares to stand in our way."

    "Our nation is red. Our blood is red. Our flag is red. And our spirit to unite is red. We are one people, and we will stand together.

    "I swear to rule you with fairness and wisdom. We will create a world where all are free and equal.

    "The Red Nation has been born! Long live the Red Nation!"

    The crowd chanted, "FREE WORLD! FREE WORLD!"

    Meanwhile, Zion''s speech continued to play on every monitor in the city, even weeks later.

    Corvo sat in his room on the high floor of an apartment. Kassandra visited him.

    "May I come in?" Kassandra asked.

    Corvo nodded, and Kassandra sat beside him.

    "Are you angry about what happened on the highway?" Kassandra inquired.

    "No... I know you were just following orders," Corvo replied.

    "Good to hear. Do you drink?" Kassandra asked.

    "No," Corvo said.

    "Good," Kassandra said, walking to the window. "Hah! Look at him... He talks about a free world, liberation... What do you think?"

    She took a sip from her drink. "Don''t worry... I''m not testing you. I''m not like Zion."

    Corvo was skeptical. "Is that so? Then why are you here?"

    Kassandra smiled. "For the same reason you are..." then she pouring herself a drink. Zion¡¯s¡­ methods are starting to make my people uneasy,¡± Corvo admitted. Kassandra nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the city below. ¡°He demands a great deal,¡± she said quietly. She paused, then turned to Corvo, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. ¡°Perhaps we should talk more about this¡­ later.¡±

    Zion stood on the balcony of his newly acquired palace, overlooking the city. The once-bustling metropolis was now under his control, a testament to his ruthless ambition. Zion pondered, "We should ask ourselves... why, deep in our hearts, do people like violence?"

    Keith, his loyal lieutenant, approached him.

    "Zion, we''ve conquered half of North America. What''s next?" Keith asked.

    "The whole world," Zion replied, his eyes gleaming with ambition.

 Chapter 9 The God Complex: Zions Ascendancy

    ¡°The world is yours for the taking, if you can swim, of course,¡± Wraith said to Zion, his voice dripping with both encouragement and caution. North America now belongs to Zion, a testament to his ruthless ambition and strategic alliances, including Kassandra¡¯s grip on South America. Yet, the path to Europe, Africa, and Asia remains obstructed by Jozen and his mischievous fleet. a formidable barrier to Zion''s grand vision.

    Zion''s eyes narrowed as he contemplated the geopolitical chessboard before him. ¡°For now, I must play the long game,¡± he replied, his voice steady. ¡°I can manipulate and intervene in overseas politics through complex proxy wars, using mercenary companies in the eastern wasteland to destabilize regions and build puppet states like the Blood Khaganate in Manchuria. Each move is a step toward my ultimate goal: a unified world under my control.¡±

    The stakes are high; every decision could tip the balance of power. Zion understood that to achieve his ambitions, he must not only conquer territories but also win the hearts and minds of the people. The world was watching, and failure was not an option.

    He has plans, but this time, he chooses to wait and enjoy his new grand arena¡ªa death race, battle royale, gladiatorial combat, spec ops ninja action, all available in his grand colosseum. He offers the best champions the honor of becoming his lieutenants and vassal rulers overseas. A simple homeless addict can become a lord if they have the talent, or be flattened in the arena.

    Despite these achievements, the betrayal of Jozen reminds him of Brutus''s betrayal of Caesar. This event makes him more resonant with his god and learns from past historic figures. "I have become a gentler god now," Zion says while kneeling before a statue of Julius Caesar in the temple. "I rule not by the sword, but with pleasure. People die and live because of their own penis. I will become the next god in this realm, soon enough, after I rule all." Zion''s gaze turns to the world map in the background of the temple before walking outside, followed by his Amazon Pretorians¡ªa group of female champions honored to act as his bodyguards.

    Among the new building projects celebrating glory, blood, and sex, Zion develops AI VR life technology. Tired of a pathetic life in society? Tired of endless war? Want to be a warrior but too scared to face bullets? wanna married someone but too afraid about a commitment? No problem. Now you can spend money to be a king surrounded by succubi in a fantasy world. And everything you want! Earn more money in society to feel pleasure again!

    Zion has become the epitome of Capitalism+, making even the wraith blush. Unlike the authoritarian Stalin style, which kills many, or the ruthless ancient capitalism that drives people to kill themselves, he offers both heaven and hell in his hands.

    Now, as a good ruler on the world stage, needing a good guy facade, he controls his vassals and proxies for his next global conquest. He sits at his desk, ready to make his move.

    At the of the year 2400 AD, the Red Nation, also known as the Free World, joined the New World Council (NWC), bringing the total number of major nations to nine. This expansion included the addition of the Orange Nation, or Nusantara Union, a vibrant group known for their artsy culture and affordable art, hailing from what was once Indonesia and Thailand. The Purple Nation, or Shangri-La Confederacy, emerged as a mystical community that had merged into the Himalayan mountains following the great flood in India. The Green Nation, or Emerald League, consisted of a network of mafiosos in the Persian region. Lastly, there was the Blue Nation, or Nation of the Sea, based in the Pacific and Caribbean, ruled by Jozen himself, which particularly irked Zion.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    With the NWC now in place, a mandate was established forbidding member nations from attacking one another or invading smaller countries. The big question was: had the world finally achieved total peace?

    But not everyone was convinced. Some members were still haunted by the memories of the last great war, and they remembered how a few powerful nations could easily overpower the whole UN with their veto power. To prevent that from happening again, some NWC members formed the Crescent Alliance¡ªan alliance within an alliance, designed to keep the peace in this new era.

    Zion saw this movement as a red flag for his ambitions of world conquest.  Zion aspired to be the unifier, the one who would bring an end to war. But the question remained: how?

    One day, an artist from the Orange Nation finished work on a new colosseum for Zion. It was a unique design¡ªa domed structure, almost like a stupa, with a large statue inside. A gift for the Orange Nation,

    Zion surveyed the completed arena. Beside him stood Picot, a Yellow Nation general in a yellow tiger-striped cloak, and Kaveh, a Green Nation representative in a sharp black suit.

    ¡°Peace is bad for business,¡± Picot said, dragging on a cigarette. ¡°Gotta keep our vassals fighting. Gives us a reason to sell them the good stuff.¡±

    Kaveh glanced at a long document in his hand. ¡°The NWC¡¯s trying to block arms exports to the Eastern Wasteland. Futile. Their food program has delivery flaws too. Easy for our cargo to slip through.¡±

    Picot nodded. ¡°Yeah, just keep the conflicts from boiling over too fast. We gotta play it smart. Pick the right puppets¡­ When the time¡¯s right, your ground forces will¡­ stabilize things,¡± he said, looking at Zion.

    Zion met his gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. Kaveh and Picot exchanged a quick glance.

    Below, in the empty arena¡ªstill surrounded by workers, some of whom were clearly slaves¡ªtwo men in chains were forced to fight. Kaveh and Picot shared another uneasy look.

    Zion intertwined his fingers. ¡°Humans are always cruel to each other, aren¡¯t they? Especially when greed¡¯s involved. My ancestors intervened in every nation on Earth, claiming to spread democracy and liberty¡­ while simultaneously backing fascist dictators. They thrived for a few decades¡­ then collapsed under their own hubris.¡±

    He turned to Kaveh and Picot. ¡°My goal isn¡¯t just about resources. It¡¯s about controlling humanity itself. When my ground forces arrive¡­ there¡¯s no turning back.¡±

    Kaveh nodded. Picot grinned. He gestured to a nearby room, where several journalists waited. ¡°Think it¡¯s time for a chat,¡± Picot said. ¡°Something the people of the world will eat up.¡±

    The three of them headed inside, ready to spin a tale of harmless geopolitics for the cameras.

    Meanwhile, in the eastern wasteland of Central Asia, a lone rider named Ali watched as his homeland burned to ashes. Zion''s mercenaries were roaming the land, creating chaos to destabilize the region. They spread terror, justifying Zion''s claim to "civilize" the area for his own gain.

    But Ali was just a simple tribesman, armed with bows and spears, and a little gunpowder weapons. He led the remnants of his people westward, hoping to find a new future and escape the madness that Zion had unleashed.

 Chapter 10 War Cinema and Cheese

    In the dimly lit bar of a Caribbean island, the tv news is tell the new world important tv show. such how cool is the latest jets and tanks and implant technology who back in market. while brutal conflict between wanderers and blood khaganate in eastern wasteland is just a foot note on screen.

    the menu boasts human meat and rat meat. A man with long hair and red glasses sips his bloodmilkshake. The impulsive desire to destroy and create something new¡ªa 100% usable cow, courtesy of genetic mutation¡ªhangs in the air. Every part of it can be consumed. but Let''s skip the gory details.

    The man is Panji, a name that stands out in these parts, especially since he¡¯s got a young boy and girl tagging along. The girl, Nara, is a brimstone girl, and the boy, Svat, is short and stocky. Panji? He¡¯s a mercenary, navigating the chaos of a world caught between two rival nations.

    Welcome to Blue Nation territory, where technocrats believe in the transcendence of humanity through technology. The uneasy peace between the Blue and Red Nations has created a thriving environment for mercs and pirates during this cold war era.

    The bartender, a woman with a weary smile and sharp eyes, finally made her way over after serving a couple of rowdy patrons. She leaned against the bar, giving Panji¡¯s mechanical hand a once-over. "I like that finger," she said, her voice dry. "Much better than the last one. I like that top too.¡± She paused, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. "What have you been up to, Panji?" She cut herself off quickly. "Actually, don''t answer that. I probably don¡¯t want to know." A bitter edge crept into her voice. "I''m sure it made you feel real big and strong."

    Panji shrugged, unbothered. "Not really. This island bugs you. You don''t even enjoy it. Why stick around?"

    Her eyes hardened. "Can you do me a favor and stop preaching? I¡¯m fine. I am what I am. For better or worse." She sighed, the tension leaving her shoulders. "Fair enough. A lifetime of trying to sort my brothers out has left me a little¡­sanctimonious. Forgive me."

    A moment of silence passed between them before she asked hesitantly, "I''m sorry if this is a weird question, but¡­ what was the war like?"

    Panji¡¯s gaze drifted to the muted news screen, a shadow falling over his face. "It was¡­ great," he said quietly. "You got to see people turn into animals." He paused, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "And¡­ close friends die."

    "Sorry," bartender murmured, her voice filled with regret. "I knew it was a dumb question. It''s just¡­ I hoped it wasn''t so awful for you."

    Panji shook his head slightly. "No. It was¡­ seeing your home destroyed. Seeing members of your family die." He stumbled over the next words. "My aunt¡­ Chrome Mother¡­ she was¡­ she was¡­" He swallowed hard. "She was raped and murdered. I found him." His voice cracked. "Everyone thinks she died in a house fire."

    bartender gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh, Panji¡­ I''m so sorry."

    Panji looked back at the screen, his expression blank. "The world is hard."

    bartender nodded slowly. "What are you going to do?"

    Panji looked back at her, a small, almost wistful smile returning. "Maybe you''re right. The war taught me a lot of bad things¡­ but it also taught me to enjoy life."

    bartender met his gaze, a hint of her old self shining through. "I like that."

    ¡°Something better is coming,¡± Panji says, his mechanical finger tapping his phone as he receives a call from one of his clients, Kassandra.

    ¡°Alright, Iron Hand,¡± Kassandra begins, her voice crackling through the line. ¡°I¡¯ve got an old friend who used to work in cinema propaganda. He¡¯s retired now, but I need you to help him get his revenge. Who knows? We might even overthrow a government along the way!¡± A dry chuckle followed.

    ¡°Cinema propaganda,¡± Panji murmured to himself after the call ended. The phrase stirred something in the back of his mind. He vaguely remembered whispers of pre-war filmmakers, crafting narratives that could sway nations. Interesting. He tucked the thought away for later.

    He glanced over at Svat and Nara, who were now engaged in a complex game of thumb war, their faces screwed up in concentration. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He placed a few credits on the bar, the metallic clink drawing the bartender¡¯s attention. Svat and Nara, sensing the end of their game, scrambled to their feet.

    As Panji turned to leave, the bartender leaned against the bar, a genuine smile gracing her lips. ¡°You can do whatever you want,¡± she said, her tone light, ¡°just¡­ whatever it is, try not to regret it. and im fine okay? at least im not forced to bear children for elite couples in here¡± She winked and gave a playful two-finger salute. Panji returned a slight nod before heading out into the bright Caribbean sunlight.

    As he stepped outside, the vibrant chaos of the island enveloped him. The sounds of laughter and shouting mingled with the distant roar of the ocean, He had a mission to fulfill, and the world outside was waiting.

    Across the sea, in the Red Nation¡¯s Florida territory, Smurf, a ridiculously wealthy retired boxing champion with a flair for propaganda movies in his younger days, was having a rough day. He stared at a flickering screen in his opulent mansion, the same Red Nation propaganda playing on loop. He switched channels, only to find another variation: smiling families praising Zion, heroic soldiers marching to victory. He slammed his fist on the remote, shattering the screen. "Enough!" he roared,

    just few days ago, his dog has been kidnapped by an old rival for dog fights, and now he¡¯s ready to start a gang war in the city, dragging Nara into the chaos as one of her first tests.

    So, Panji, Svat, and Nara hop on a pirate ferry, sailing from the Caribbean Blue Nation to the bustling streets of Florida Red Nation. When they arrive, they spot Smurf¡ªa muscular old man with a booming voice.

    ¡°Argh! All these cars! Motorization is unhealthy and should be banned!¡± Smurf bellows, rallying his goons to wreak havoc on the town. Panji and his crew jump in, ready to take on Smurf¡¯s rivals, led by the notorious Fatty.

    ¡°Time to take out the trash!¡± Smurf declares, striking a retro American boxing stance, ready for action.

    One of Fatty¡¯s thugs, a skinny guy with a greasy ponytail, sneered, "Say that after I take your teeth out!"

    After the dust settled ¨C and several car alarms had been triggered ¨C Loftis, a wiry guy who seemed to be Smurf¡¯s right-hand man and sometime medic, patched up a few minor scrapes Nara had sustained during the brawl. He then offered her some ice cream, a peace offering of sorts.

    "It''s not safe outside. That''s why I stick to the caf¨¦. People just love to beat each other up because they¡¯re frustrated with their lives," Loftis says with a shrug.

    Smurf''s gang then rolls up to a coal plant that Fatty uses for dog fights, where a woman named Roxy is lurking around.

    "Roxy, quit stalking me!" Smurf snaps.

    "You never told me why you dumped me!" Roxy shoots back.

    "My dog didn¡¯t like you, that¡¯s why," Smurf replies, cold as ice.

    "Argh! I hate you and your dog!" Roxy screams, clearly fed up.

    After a scuffle with Roxy, they head to a secluded spot where Smurf''s rivals are hanging out.

    "Is this the right way to the coal mine?" Smurf asks, looking around.

    A thug chimes in, "For you, old man, this is the right way to the graveyard!"

    Smurf, unfazed, yanks the thug''s teeth out and glances at the others. "I think we¡¯re lost?"

    More thugs show up, and Smurf grins. "If they¡¯re here, then we¡¯re definitely not lost."

    As they move along, Smurf starts wrecking parked cars with his bare hands. Nara opens her mouth to ask why but is quickly silenced by Panji.

    "Shhh, rule number one as a mercenary: Don¡¯t question the client, no matter how weird they act," Panji advises.

    The chaos catches the mayor''s attention, prompting him to send riot police after someone complains about their car getting smashed by Smurf.

    "There he is, officer! He¡¯s the one who wrecked my car!" a citizen yells.

    Smurf shoots back, "I destroyed your car. Now I¡¯ll destroy your face!"

    Finally, Smurf declares, "This is it. The coal mine. The den!"

    In the center of the arena lies a dead dog.

    "Oh no, boy. Is that you?" Smurf mourns, his voice heavy with grief.

    Fatty, a hefty guy in a brown suit, struts to the center surrounded by his goons. "Your dog was killed minutes ago. He fought well and died. Like you will soon!"

    The audience gasps, then erupts into cheers. Two human gangs enter the arena, and after a brutal fight...

    "Please, no! Have mercy!" Fatty begs.

    Smurf doesn¡¯t hold back and beats Fatty to a pulp.

    "That''s not fair," Smurf grunts, panting.

    In the VIP section, the mayor and several politicians watch the chaos unfold.

    "Grrr, kill them!" Smurf commands, his eyes wild.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Panji taps his forehead, muttering, "Hmhm, here we go again." He then draws his pistol instead.

    After the mayor bites the dust, Smurf demolishes the entrance to the cave. No one dares to report his actions, and honestly, the city residents weren¡¯t fond of the mayor anyway. After a quick election, Smurf becomes the new mayor and bans all cars and electricity.

    "Is this a happy ending for the city''s residents?" Nara asks, raising an eyebrow.

    "I don¡¯t know, but it¡¯s a happy ending for us because we got paid," Panji replies with a smirk.

    Hmhm, Smurf wasn¡¯t born in this city. Don¡¯t be surprised if you see more folks hating tech in the future.

    Every region in the Red Nation has its own set of rules, a direct result of Zion''s early concept of vassalization during his nation-building phase. The downside? A chaotic mess in areas he hasn''t fully annexed yet. But despite the turmoil, the Red Nation remains a strong and powerful force, thriving on the very chaos that surrounds it.

    In the shadow of a city plunged into darkness, Panji''s phone rang, cutting through the night like a siren. "Ahh, you called me at a rather inconvenient moment," he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice.

    "What do you mean?" Kassandra''s voice was curious, almost playful.

    "I''m in a place where tech is banned, hehe," Panji replied, a smirk forming on his lips.

    "Haha, oh, I see. So where are you now, hehe?" Kassandra''s laughter echoed through the line.

    "In the bathroom," Panji said, taking a sip of beer.

    There was a brief pause before Kassandra spoke again, "..........oh okay....... by the way, it seems you''re still looking after that wild girl. Heh, is she your girlfriend?"

    "Quiet. She''s more like a sister to me. I''m not in the mood for small talk. What do you want?" Panji''s tone sharpened, cutting through the banter.

    "You see, Zion''s behavior is becoming increasingly worrying. As his secretary, I have to clean up his mess. Humpf..." Kassandra''s voice dripped with frustration.

    Panji replied. ¡°It seems your little project was¡­ effective. at least for now¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Kassandra said, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. ¡°Now, for the main event. Do you remember New York?¡±

    "Of course. There are tons of classic films and games about that ancient submerged city," Panji replied, his interest piqued.

    "I want you to destroy one of the gangs in New York so we can get a better price from the brokers," Kassandra stated, her intentions crystal clear.

    "Ahh, gang hunting, huh?" Panji''s voice mixed amusement with anticipation.

    "Yes, but let some factions remain. I just need you to reduce their numbers. Back in our glory days, the price of guns was the same as velvet cheese," Kassandra instructed.

    "Why do you rely on the black market?" Panji questioned, curiosity getting the better of him.

    "Ahaha, come on, you know the answer. What would the other major nations say if we suddenly increased our armaments?" Kassandra''s laughter was sardonic.

    "Alright, now let''s talk about money," Panji said, shifting gears.

    "If you succeed in taking down one of the influential gangs there, I''ll pay you 1 billion credits. Plus, you can take their territory," Kassandra offered, raising the stakes.

    "Brrrrrrr *sprays beer while drinking* 1 billion! You called the right person," Panji exclaimed, sealing the deal with enthusiasm.

    "I think we have an agreement. See you later, handsome..." Kassandra''s voice dripped with confidence as the call ended.

    In Smurf''s town in Florida, Panji was making his way through the dead of night. As he crept along, he spotted Smurf''s goons setting fire to the tech shop and library, smashing TVs, radios, cars¡ªanything tech-related. They even forced some poor souls with cyber implants to remove their limbs right there on the street.

    Panji peeked out from the bushes, rubbing his mechanical finger. He couldn''t help but wonder how someone like Smurf, a propaganda master who once thrived on technology, had turned into such a tech-hating fanatic. But he quickly shook off the thoughts and started navigating the environment like a ninja, with Nara and Svat trailing behind him.

    After a close call, they managed to buy the last surviving boat and escape from Smurf''s goons, who were hell-bent on banning all tech. Svat proudly introduced a new companion he found before the old folks blew up the mine den.

    "I found him in the mine den before those old people blew it up. I call him... Dogi," Svat announced, grinning as he presented the dog.

    "Aha! That''s awesome... a new companion!" Panji replied, a smile breaking across his face.

    With the engine roaring to life, Panji, Nara, Svat, and Dogi set sail, leaving the oppressive town behind.

    As they departed, the boat dealer¡ªa man of few words¡ªoffered a blessing. "And He has made ships to serve you, so that they may sail through the sea by His command, and so that you may seek His bounty. Perhaps you will be thankful."

    Just then, Smurf''s goons approached the boat dealer, their intentions clear. The dealer simply shrugged and said, "You''re under arrest for using and selling tech."

    "What tech? They stole my boat," the dealer shot back, a smirk on his face.

    The goons exchanged confused glances. "Well, how can we catch them?"

    "Hehe, if you can''t use tech, just use a rowboat," the dealer suggested, his laughter echoing into the night.

    "Aaa... you''re crazy," the goons muttered, defeated.

    "Who''s really crazy here... hehe," the dealer replied, getting the last laugh.

    On the boat, Panji, Nara, Svat, and Dogi set their sights on New York, the city of opportunity and danger.

    A couple of hours later, Panji stood at the bow of the boat, the city''s skyline a jagged silhouette against the horizon. "Alright, Nara, Svat, and Dogi, guard the boat. I''ll check out the city alone," he instructed, his tone brooking no argument.

    "Why can''t I come?" Nara asked, her voice laced with disappointment.

    "In the Red Nation, men and women are separated. Even though there are no government rules in New York, people there will target you because you''re a rare commodity. And it would be awkward if I brought a girl to meet key people here, hehe..." Panji explained, his logic sound.

    "Humpf, then what should I do here?" Nara huffed, crossing her arms.

    "That''s your problem. How about playing with Dogi?" Panji suggested, a hint of teasing in his voice.

    "NO NONONONO," Nara exclaimed, her frustration palpable.

    "See you guys later," Panji said, dismounting the boat with a chuckle.

    "See you," Svat replied, immediately starting to fish, the tranquility of the water a stark contrast to the chaos they were sailing towards.

    Dogi''s "WOOF!" was the only farewell Panji needed as he stepped onto the dock, the city of New York sprawling before him, a playground for the bold and the desperate.

    Panji leaped off the boat, landing with a splash on the submerged streets of The Watery Grave. The water was a murky green, the only light filtering through from the sun above. The drowned skyscrapers loomed like silent sentinels, the only sound the water lapping against their walls.

    A cloaked figure perched atop a nearby building greeted him. "Nice boat you have there, matey. Where you from? Why bother with this cursed place?"

    "Looking for the leader of this place," Panji replied, his voice steady.

    "There''s more than one leader here. Each tower has its own gang and territory," the cloaked figure explained.

    "Do you need to meet each leader, mate?"

    "Sure, kinda. You part of one of those factions?" Panji asked, curiosity piqued.

    "I''m with The Watery Grave Pirate crew. I''m the first mate. We''re one of the biggest gangs here, with territory in most towers. We''ve got peace treaties and alliances with some, but conflicts with others," the cloaked figure elaborated.

    "My boss is always looking for new recruits. You look like you''re after easy cash, right, matey?"

    "Alright, sure. I''ve got plenty of experience," Panji acknowledged.

    "Then follow me, matey... We''ll introduce you to the boss," the cloaked figure said, leading Panji to a door and knocking four times.

    The steel door opened, revealing an elevator with some nude graphic image. They stepped in and ascended.

    panji lower his red shades then look at cloak when they ascend. cloak then give him a knowing smile ¡°you know its was a brothel too.. you get the idea¡±

    When the doors parted, Panji was greeted by the luxury of the room. A table sat in the middle, with two shadowy figures seated.

    The cloaked figure whispered to one of the figures. "Mhmh. It''s kinda funny you have your own palace in here. Hehe... You can call me Panji. I''m part of the Scarlet Moon merc."

    "Welcome, Panji. I am Captain James The Red, leader of The Watery Grave pirate crew," a voice greeted him.

    Captain James The Red stepped into the light, an eyepatch covering one eye.

    "I heard you''re a good mercenary. I need help with a conflict," James stated.

    "Solving conflicts for a good price, for sure," Panji replied, businesslike.

    "Excellent, mate. There''s one crew that disrupts my business. Their captain is Blackheart. I need you to get rid of him so I can run my business in peace," James explained.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the state of play down here?¡± Panji asked. James gestured to the window overlooking the flooded city. ¡°Think less Singapore, more Mad Max meets Waterworld. Gangs carved up what was left, some becoming organized crews. Each tower¡¯s its own turf.. Many towers are safe zones or neutral zones. Alliances with rival crews are common," James detailed.

    "This place is more like Somalia or a pirate island," Panji mused.

    "So, about Blackheart," Panji prompted.

    "Tough guy. Heads the Black Serpent Pirates. Controls a few towers, always raiding my territory," James explained. "He''s my biggest headache."

    "Alright, deal. I''ll infiltrate him, find his weaknesses, and take him down," Panji said.

    "Sounds good. There''ll be a reward," James nodded. "Cloak, show him the ropes, get him introduced to Blackheart''s crew."

    "Right, follow me," Cloak said, turning to leave. James watched them go,

    swirling the wine in his glass, his reflection distorted in the red liquid. ¡°kassandra favorite toy huh?¡± he muttered to himself. "Can one man really fix this mess?"

    They walked down a hallway with peeling wallpaper. "Before we go," Panji said, "wanna check out the view from the highest point. Where''s that?"

    Cloak pointed. "That''s Red Dragon''s Keep. Tallest building around. It should be high enough for you to enjoy the view. and It''s Blackheart''s place, though. Got security, AI defenses and guards."

    "Blackheart''s, huh? Even better. "Alright. Maybe it''s hitting two birds with one stone. Guide me to that building," Panji said, interest piqued.

    Cloak led him towards the imposing tower. It loomed over the surrounding buildings, even in its partially submerged state. "Might wanna bring your hacking skills," Cloak advised, glancing at the tower''s visible security systems.

    "Oh, fuck. I''m bad with tech. But I have this," Panji said, showing a grappling hook. "This should do. I''ll see you again," he added, determined.

    "Good luck, matey. May the water guide you," the cloaked figure said, watching as Panji used the grappling hook to scale the building and find a window.

    Inside, it was dark and quiet, but Panji heard a noise from a corner where a figure sat cross-legged.

    "Heh... so that''s the sound I heard. I''ve been waiting for you," the figure said, his voice echoing.

    "What? Are you a wizard or something? Hehe..., you better speak," Panji warned, drawing his pistol.

    "Heh... I may look like a wizard, but I''m no wizard. I am Blackheart, leader of the Black Serpent Pirate Crew. I was expecting you, matey," the figure revealed.

    "The leader himself? Cool. What do you want?" Panji asked.

    "Hehe, I''ve been waiting for you. You''re the man Captain James sent, am I right, matey? That''s why you''re here, isn''t it?" Blackheart inquired.

    "Ahah, haha... Kinda. But I''m still gathering information. I''m not sure which faction to work for," Panji replied, playing his cards close.

    "Hahah... This place is a mess. So many crews and gangs. As an independent, you can work for anyone you see fit, eh? Haha... But I can make it simpler for you, mate. I can offer you two things," Blackheart proposed, confidently.

    Blackheart leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "First, a place to reside in and stay. I''ll ensure no one bothers you in my tower."

    "And second, information for your search," he continued, smoothly.

    Panji eyed him warily. "Alright. Why should I choose you over James?"

    Blackheart chuckled, amused. "James is smart, a businessman. But I''m not like James. He focuses on business, while I care more about my men. You''ll find more fun and excitement in my tower."

    "We''ve got a gambling hall, fight club, even a red light district. All the fun things I can offer you," Blackheart boasted.

    "And the best part... the reward. I can offer more than James can," he added, the promise of wealth hanging in the air.

    Panji raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I can see if you like gambling. You''re just a person who gets easily bored, isn''t it? That''s why you''re waiting for me instead of ambushing me."

    Blackheart laughed, a hearty sound that filled the room. "Haha... You see, mate, I like to know who I''m gonna deal with. And when I see you, I get the feeling you''re the one I like the most. So I wait for you. Haha, I like your courage, matey. And I like your confidence and your guts. So... what''s your answer, eh, mate? Do you want my place in my tower?"

    Panji nodded, a decision made. "Alright. You might be smaller than James in some parts, but your spies are definitely all over James''s place. So you''re the one who has the upper hand here. Yeah, I''ll be on your side instead."

    "Alright, matey... Let me show you where you''ll stay," Blackheart said, leading Panji to a large building that seemed empty except for him, some of his crew members, and his right-hand man standing beside him. Blackheart led Panji to a bare room: a stained mattress on the floor, a scattering of empty bottles the only d¨¦cor.

    "This is where you''ll stay. Do you like it?" Blackheart asked, a note of pride in his voice.

    Panji sat on the bed, getting down to business. "Alright. Here''s the plan. Give me a fake blueprint and security detail about this place. When James is confident, we''ll ambush him. That''s how we''ll do it."

    Blackheart laughed, clearly amused by Panji''s ambition. "Haha, I like your ambition, mate. I think I like you..." He took out one of his notebooks from his pocket. "Here''s the fake blueprint, and here''s the security detail I have. We''ll have a lot more advantage now..."

    Panji nodded, satisfied. "Alright. Why do you call yourself Blackheart? Hehe... It''s kinda cringy..."

    Blackheart chuckled, a story behind his eyes. "Haha... You see, mate, in the past, I had a different name, eh... But some people kept calling me ''blackhearted man,'' and the name caught on. I''ve used this name ever since. Because to me, if you want to be successful in business, you need to have a heart of black stone. So I call myself Blackheart since then, eh... Haha..."

    Panji nodded. "Alright. Hey, wanna check out the view from the highest point?"

    "Sure," Blackheart said, leading Panji to the door and an elevator.

    They rode to the top. The sky was clear and blue, dotted with clouds, and the view was impressive.

    "Red Dragon''s Keep. Best view in the city," Blackheart said, a hint of pride in his voice.

    Panji hummed in agreement. "You could run a zipline from here. Hit any tower, even James''s."

    Blackheart chuckled. "Been there, done that. But hitting James now isn''t smart. I''m waiting for the right moment. You find the weaknesses in his setup, and we''ll strike."

    "One decisive blow," Panji said.

    "Exactly. I''ve got eyes inside his operation. They''ll let me know when it''s time. Just need your intel."

    Blackheart leaned back. "So, where are you from, Panji? You''ve got an interesting vibe."

    Panji shrugged. "Central Asia. Became a merc after the war."

    Blackheart laughed, a hearty sound that filled the room. "Hahaha, I don''t know, matey... It''s just my instinct. It''s been a long time since I''ve met someone like you..."

    "Now, if you don''t mind, may I know your name, eh?"

    "Panji," he replied, his voice steady.

    "Panji... Hmmm... Okay, buddy..." Blackheart mused, committing the name to memory.

    "Now that I know you''re working with me, in the meantime, can you get more info about James and his crew?"

    "This is my order, matey... I expect you to return to me with info within two days, okay, buddy? I can tell you''re a smart guy. That''s why I trust you with this..."

    Panji nodded, a determined look in his eyes. "Alright. You won''t regret hiring me, man... Hehe... See you later."

    "Heheh... I like the confidence, my friend... See you later, buddy... And good luck with gathering info..." Blackheart said, watching as Panji left, a new alliance formed in the shadows of The Watery Grave.

 Chapter 11 Watery grave

    Panji navigated the Venice-like ruins of what was once New York, where monstrous buildings loomed over the drowned streets, their tops barely breaking the surface. The iconic Empire State Building stood half-submerged, its rooftop transformed into a disco haven for local gangs. In the distance, the Statue of Liberty could still be seen, covered in graffiti, with her torch replaced by a money symbol.

    Taking a long drag from his cigarette, Panji reflected on the state of the world. His homeland, like many others, was experiencing the fallout from the ice melt at the North and South Poles. The entire planet was drowning, a consequence of rising temperatures from World War III..

    After soaking in the surreal landscape, Panji made his way back to Cloak in James''s tower.

    After soaking in the surreal landscape, Panji returned to James¡¯s tower and found Cloak.

    "Any news?" Panji asked.

    "Just the usual market hustle," Cloak replied. "Smuggled goods, shady deals. It''s a free-for-all down there. ¡°

    "And what about the people? Who do they prefer¡ªJames or Blackheart? Or is there another faction they like more?" Panji probed.

    "Well, most folks lean towards Blackheart. Many dislike James because he¡¯s cruel and uses brute force," Cloak explained, his expression serious.

    "But they don¡¯t fully trust Blackheart either. Pirates are known for their greed and lust for money..." Cloak added, eyeing Panji thoughtfully.

    "What about you, matey? Who would you rather work for¡ªJames or Blackheart?" Cloak asked.

    "Ahh, it¡¯s tough to say. Both men are... kinda cursed," Panji replied, a wry smile creeping onto his lips.

    "Yeah, man, I agree. They¡¯re both cursed in their own way... Haha!" Cloak chuckled.

    "Just keep a low profile or be strong enough to handle any danger..."

    "Sounds about right," Panji said. "Let''s head back."

    Later, Panji returned to the boat, looking a bit grim.

    "Why the long face?" Nara asked, noticing his expression.

    "Hah... *Panji then launched into a long story* So, what do you think?" he asked.

    "A tough choice, man..." Svat replied, scratching his head.

    "Why not just destroy everything?" Nara suggested, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

    "Hah! I knew you''d say that. But it¡¯s not that simple. So, what would you do if you were in my shoes, Nara?" Panji challenged.

    "Ahhh. Dogi, I envy you. You never have to think, do you?" Panji said, glancing at the dog.

    "WOOF!" Dogi barked in agreement, tail wagging.

    "So, what''s your take? James or Blackheart? Choosing a client as a mercenary is like choosing life or death. Choose wisely..." Panji emphasized.

    Nara shrugged, looking unsure.

    "Alright, hehe. Maybe next time I''ll buy you some intelligence implants," Panji teased.

    "Fuck!" Nara exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

    "Blackheart seems safer. He''s got spies on James," Svat pointed out, still focused on his fishing line.

    "Maybe," Panji murmured, picking up his own rod.

    Hours passed. The sun began to dip below the horizon.

    "I''m bored," Nara announced. After a moment, she looked at her reflection in the water. "Can I at least go for a walk?"

    "No," Panji and Svat said simultaneously.

    Dogi barked in agreement.

    Hours passed. As the sun began to set, Nara complained, "I''m starving! And you haven''t caught anything!"

    "Alright, time for food," Panji conceded. "Svat, you coming?"

    "Yeah!"

    "Hey! Why do I have to stay here?" Nara protested.

    "Someone''s gotta guard the boat. Besides," Panji winked, "I''ll bring you back some ice cream."

    "Fine," Nara muttered as they left, Dogi whining at her side.

    Hours later, at the restaurant, Svat reminded Panji, "Nara''s been alone a while."

    "You''re right. Let''s get this to go," Panji said.

    Just then, Dogi burst into the restaurant, wounded and snapping at Panji''s leg.

    "Dogi! What''s wrong? Nara¡ª" Panji¡¯s blood ran cold.

    NARA''S LITTLE ADVENTURE

    An hour earlier, Nara, after locking Dogi in the boat, had ventured out. A beggar approached, pleading for food.

    "Please, I haven¡¯t eaten all day."

    Nara grumbled, "Humpf. Same. But here..." She tossed a coin to the beggar.

    Suddenly, the beggar stabbed Nara''s hand with a needle.

    "Aaa! What are you doing?!" she shouted, shoving the beggar and mounting her horse.

    The old beggar smirked as Nara blacked out.

    Several people carried Nara away. The beggar and an accomplice approached the boat and opened the door.

    Dogi lunged at the beggar''s face. "WOOF!"

    The man next to him kicked Dogi. "Argh, damn dog!"

    An hour later, Nara found herself tied to a chair in the center of what used to be a hotel room, surrounded by a group of men.

    "How are her teeth?" one of the gang members asked.

    "Good," another replied.

    "And the rest?"

    "Her body proportions and face? Decent. She might be worth 20,000 credits."

    Sometime later, Nara awoke tied to a chair in a dilapidated hotel room, surrounded by men.

    "She''s worth 20,000 credits," one said. "Maybe more after I have some fun with her."

    "Touch her, and she''s worth five," another warned.

    "No worries... That damn dog bit me earlier."

    "Alright, she''s all yours. Hehehe..."

    Moments later, one of the bandits splashed water on Nara''s face.

    "Rise and shine, little girl. I want to hear you scream. Hehe..."

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Nara shot up, panic in her voice. "What!? What!? What is this? Untie me!"

    "Hehehehe..."

    For a brief moment, fear gripped her, but then she closed her eyes and thought, "Fak!" She kneed the bandit right in the groin.

    "AAAAHH!! You!!"

    Outside the room, chaos erupted. "What''s happening?" Nara, still tied to the chair, dashed toward the door. Just before the second bandit could enter, she slammed the door, crushing his hand against the wall.

    Still clutching his crotch, the first bandit drew a dagger with his left hand. Nara executed a spinning kick, smashing the bandit with the chair and breaking it, freeing her right hand.

    "Aww... Uhh... Damn, that smarts." Her hand was bleeding.

    "You picked the wrong target, little girl. Maybe your organs are more valuable than your virtue," he sneered, brandishing a bat.

    "Bring it on, you coward!"

    The second bandit charged at her. Nara used her left hand, still chained to the chair, to strike like a mace. The bandit was caught off guard and took a hit squarely on the head.

    "Aaaahhh... Ouch. Fak." She frantically searched for the key to unlock her left hand but found the shackle jammed from the earlier impact. Hearing commotion outside, she bolted from the room and found herself in a long corridor that looked like a hotel, with several people sprinting toward her.

    "Hey, there''s a slave who''s escaped!" they shouted.

    "Fak, too many..." she thought, dashing to the elevator and jabbing the button for the top floor. Just as the doors closed, she turned and mocked the bandits with a comical face. "What are you waiting for? Quick, use the stairs!"

    On the rooftop, night had fallen. Nara scanned her surroundings and spotted no other escape route except for a zipline to a shorter building. The pulley device was missing, though.

    After a while, the bandits reached the rooftop door.

    "Huff... Now where are you going, little girl? Hehehe... There''s no other way..."

    "There''s always a way, you fool!" she shouted, sprinting to the zipline. she used a broken piece of the chair as a makeshift pulley and jumped."Aaahhhh!!!! Uhh, this is too fast! Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" "This is gonna hurt!" she yelled as she zipped across the gap.

    The slavers watched Nara disappear over the edge, stunned. "That kid''s insane..."

    She crashed onto the other rooftop and blacked out.

    "She''s in the farmers'' building! Go get her!"

    One slaver frantically searched the rooftop. "Where''s the pulley?!"

    "We don''t have one! Only the farmers use those to send down food," another replied.

    "Damn it! Just find her. She messed up the elder. She can''t get away with this."

    <hr>

    In a nearby building, a robot announced, "Human detected."

    A child looked up. "Maria, what is it? Oh... someone''s there."

    A man cautioned, "Stay back, kid. They could be trouble. We''ll wait for the farmers to handle it." He started dialing a number.

    The child protested, "But¡ª"

    The man sighed. "Fine. At least let''s see to their wounds. Maria, bring them inside."

    The robot gently lifted Nara and carried her to a room. The man and child began tending to her injuries.

    Minutes later, the slavers ran into Panji, Svat, Cloak, and Dogi.

    "Bonjour," Panji greeted them.

    Dogi growled.

    "What the hell?" one slaver muttered.

    Another snarled, "You picked the wrong fight!" Panji quickly pinned him and punched him hard. svat join the fray. while cloak see them brawling in amusement

    "Where''s the girl?" Panji demanded.

    "Okay, okay! That building," the slaver gasped, pointing.

    "Thanks," Panji said, delivering a final punch that knocked him out.

    "That''s the farmers'' building," Cloak observed.

    "Why would she be there?" Panji asked.

    Cloak shrugged. "Maybe they already sold her."

    "What?!"

    Outside the farmers'' building, Panji turned to Svat. "He telling the truth?"

    Svat held up a bloody tooth.from slaver "Looks like it."

    "Nara''s inside," Panji stated. then he draw his pistol

    "Hold on," Cloak warned. "You can''t just storm the farmers'' place. They''re neutral. That''s like declaring war on everyone."

    Panji sighed, checking his watch. Midnight. "And I still have to make a choice..."

    Svat leaned against the wall, eyeing a poster advertising cheap women slaves in skimpy outfits. His gaze shifted to the building across the street, where Nara was clearly in trouble. "Nara''s in a bind. Why not just postpone your little mission for now?" he asked, concern creeping into his voice.

    Panji shook his head, the weight of the situation heavy in his eyes. "Can''t do that, son. I''ve got two big groups marking me. If I wait too long, I might lose their trust," he replied, his tone resolute.

    Cloak, jumped in. "Yeah, this place isn¡¯t safe. Heh. Your boat got targeted by thieves in less than a day. You need to stay focused, mate."

    Svat tossed a tooth in frustration. "Poor Nara. Attacked by thieves while guarding the boat," he muttered, the seriousness of their predicament sinking in.

    Cloak nodded in agreement. "Yeah... this place is way too dangerous to be alone."

    Panji phone turn into alive. when message from kassandra,her  call was short and to the point. "Panji," she said, her voice laced with warning. "The whispers have started. They''re calling you a double-crosser. Make a decision, and make it fast."

    Later, Panji approached James, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Hey man.. i give fake intel about blackheart tower i gather some info. perhaps its time to finish him once for all.."

    James''s interest was piqued. "Oh really you found some important intel? Give it to me," he said, eager to know what Panji had uncovered about Blackheart Tower.

    Panji nodded. "Good. How many men you have? It seems Blackheart are still focusing on something else."

    James replied confidently, "I have about 20 men.. including me.. that should be more than enough to take down Blackheart Tower."

    James''s curiosity was evident. "But I still have a question.. you said you got an intel about Blackheart Tower. What is it exactly?"

    Panji revealed, "It''s rooms layout and weak point who can exploit."

    James''s face lit up. "Great job mate.. you just saved me a lot of time in finding every weakness in Blackheart Tower. Now go to your room and take the rest for now. I will gather my men to prepare an attack to Blackheart Tower. Just be ready to fight matey.."

    Panji agreed, "Good. Where is you cloak man?"

    James pondered, "Hmm, I agree. We can ambush them at when they changing guard... when they are in their sleep. Our chance of success will be very high."

    James noticed Panji''s fatigue. "But for now, you can enjoy some time to rest matey. You look tired."

    Panji, though tired, felt the need to prepare. "Sure. But I''m okay... and I think I need a stroll on the market. I need rearms."

    James pointed him in the right direction. "Heh, the weapon shop is on the corner of the market matey. It''s near the alleyway. Just go through the alleyway and you will find a weapon shop right in front of you."

    Panji, ready to equip himself, replied, "Alright. See you at night. I go to market."

    The market hit Panji like a punch to the gut¡ªa mall gone feral. Bodies jostled, hawkers yelled, it was pure mayhem. He elbowed his way through, finally reaching the weapon shop. Half the place was dark, no generator, so they had these glowing algae cubes for light, like weird, green lamps.

    "Hey dealer. Give me.. something with high power," Panji requested.

    The weapon shop owner led him to the backroom, where an array of firearms, from rifles to pistols, and even experimental weapons awaited.

    Panji''s eyes widened at the sight of a sci-fi weapon. "Wow. What that sci-fi weapon you got there?"

    The weapon shop owner explained, "The gun in front of you is a railgun matey. The railgun is classified as an experimental weapon by many weapon designers. Because the gun will fire some of the most powerful bullets ever created."

    Panji was intrigued. "The bullet from the railgun have massive kinetic energy which will rip any body armor apart like paper. It also creates a sonic boom every time the gun fires, which can damage your ear matey. Are you sure you want this gun?"

    Panji, undeterred, replied, "Wait? Can destroy my ear too? Heheh. I assume this can totally badass."

    The weapon shop owner warned, "Eh yeah.. it''s actually can. You see the sonic wave this gun makes when fired can cause some damage to the human ear. And by the way, I suggest you use earplugs next time when this thing been used eh matey.. hehe.."

    Panji, set on his choice, asked, "Alright. I want that. How much credit for that?"

    The weapon shop owner quoted, "Hmm, the price of this gun is 6400 credit. Are you still sure you want it matey?"

    The weapon shop owner continued, "Eh, I also must warn you the maintenance and usage for this gun is quite dangerous and expensive. You need to be careful when playing with this gun matey.. hehe.."

    Panji, undeterred by the warnings, confirmed his decision. "Alright, I take this. I give you some money so anyway.. what is the best gang you think suitable to rule this damn place? James or Blackheart? Or someone in your mind?"

    The weapon shop owner, after a moment of thought, suggested, "I suggest Blackheart matey. He''s a better fit to handle this place. James is a tyrant and cruel leader. He will do anything to achieve his goal, including killing innocent people. Blackheart, on the other hand, he''s a ruthless pirate yes, but he will make sure to spare innocent life whenever he could. So I suggest you choose to follow Blackheart matey.. hehe.."

    Later, Panji stepped outside with his new weapon slung over his shoulder. The railgun''s weight was a constant reminder of the power it wielded.

    Svat eyed the weapon with a mix of envy and concern. "You look cool with that man," he commented.

    Panji''s hand trembled slightly as he adjusted the strap. "You think so? My damn hand is shaking like hell..."

    Svat chuckled. "Hehe. What''s wrong?"

    Panji''s gaze was distant, burdened by the gravity of the situation. "You have no idea. The gravity on my hand now... this silly gang war. Nara... and this destructor. I think I should visit Redlight first... to calm my nerves, heh..."

    as Panji walked outside the building, he noticed Cloak standing next to the wall, as if he had been waiting for him.

    "Alright. You''re Blackheart''s spy, right?" Panji asked.

    Cloak nodded. "I work for Blackheart, yes, matey. He''s planning something big. If you want to follow him, I can take you to him, but you have to promise me something, matey..."

    Panji agreed. "Sure. I was already trapped by James. He probably will attack tonight. Do your magic."

    Cloak smiled. "Hehe. Let me do what I must, matey..."

    Cloak pulled out his wrist tablet and punched in a series of codes. His eyes glowed, and his clothes began to change, morphing into a holographic suit that made him look like a ninja. His body appeared thinner, and his face was barely visible.

    "Hehe, you ready to follow me, matey? We''re gonna meet Blackheart now and tell him about James''s plan to attack Blackheart Tower..." Cloak said, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Panji''s jaw dropped. "Wait, you can do that? Cool..."

    Cloak chuckled. "Hehe... yeah, you just saw it, matey. Hehe... Now let me show you the way to Blackheart Tower..."

    Panji hesitated. "Hmhm. I think that''s not needed. I trust you if you manage to give the right information. I need to stay close to James so he doesn''t get suspicious of me."

    Cloak nodded. "Alright, matey... Let me take you to James then..."

    Cloak put his wrist tablet away and led Panji back to James''s tower. They could see the tower just a couple of buildings away from their current spot.

    "There''s James''s tower, matey. He''s right now in his office doing something. Heheh..." Cloak said, pointing towards the tower.

    Panji was determined. "Alright. Make sure Blackheart''s men prepare a good ambush. We''ll finish this once and for all."

    Cloak smiled, his eyes fixed on James''s tower. "Hehe... Just wait and see. I will ensure we defeat James once and for all, matey. You just be patient at the right place and right time... Heheh..."

    Cloak then walked outside and waited for Panji.

    "Wait. Before we separate, how many of James''s men are there exactly?" Panji asked.

    Cloak chuckled. "Heheh... James has about 20 men, including him, matey. So we need to be quick in killing them. Heheh..."

    Panji was skeptical. "Really? To control the whole tower, he has around 20? You''re not... hiding something, right?"

    Cloak''s smile widened. "Heheh... Maybe there are more. Heheh... But I want to make sure you''re not scared, so I only tell you the number that I know. There''s a chance some of his men are hiding somewhere in James''s tower..."

    Cloak continued, "So if that time comes, we better be careful. Heheh..."

    Panji nodded. "Alright. See you later. I''ll go to James''s room."

    When Panji entered James''s tower, he saw James talking with someone in a video call. James seemed busy with something important. The video call ended, and James turned as he saw Panji enter the room.

    "Oh, hello there... What brings you all the way to my office, matey? Do you have any info about Blackheart Tower?" James asked.

    Panji nodded. "Yes. He''s just sitting around Red Dragon Tower. The highest tower. The security is kinda... easy to penetrate. I used my grappling hook and did fine."

    James seemed surprised by the info and began planning the attack on Blackheart Tower.

    "Are you sure about the security being easy to penetrate? We don''t want to make some of our men die in a trap, don''t you think?" James questioned.

    "I will send three of my men to confirm your intel. In the meantime, you stay here, okay, matey? I will notify you when they return," James instructed. then some man is send to scout away. when some of james man look at panji suspiciously. if panji caught bluffing he will dead for sure.

    The three men sent to confirm the intel returned to James''s tower. They looked tired but eager to report their findings.

    "Okay, I want you to tell me right away. What''s going on? Is the intel right?" James demanded, his face serious and his eyes cold.

    One of the men began to speak. "Sir, the intel is correct. Blackheart Tower''s security is kinda... weak, sir. There aren''t many men inside Blackheart Tower. It seems like... Blackheart Tower only has a few men and a few security drones inside."

    Panji saw an opportunity.

    "Strike when the moment is right. And perhaps I assume this gang war has just started too long, which is why their security has become loosened."

    James was decisive. "Right then... Time to finish Blackheart Tower tonight. Send a message to all of our men. We will attack Blackheart Tower tonight."

    Man 2 sent the message to all the men via James''s arm console. A green icon with a radio signal appeared on his arm console, indicating the message had been sent.

    "Message sent, sir. All men were notified and are currently on their way to Blackheart Tower," Man 2 reported.

    Panji was eager for action. "Good. Do you join the party too, James? Or you sit here and miss all the fun?"

    James''s face lit up with a smile. "Yes, I will join this operation, matey. I want to have some fun... and also I want to kill that bastard Blackheart too with my own hand..."

    A smile appeared on his face, a mix of anticipation and malice. "It''s been too long since I''ve released my anger on this kind of stuff... Heheh..."

 Chapter 12 Gang war

    Outside the farmer''s building, a tall tower poked at the sky above the grungy cityscape. It was a real dump ¨C buildings half-submerged, choked with weeds, the whole nine yards. Then, out of the shadows pops this blonde woman in a flowing white dress, looking like she wandered off a movie set. Talk about a contrast. She was like an angel dropped into a hobo convention. But get this, the locals barely even glanced at her. They were too busy doing their thing ¨C huddled around fires, rambling to themselves, you know the drill.

    Svat, watching from a distance, couldn''t hide his surprise. "Huh? A woman dressed like that in this city?"

    Dogi, sensing something off, barked loudly. "Woof! WOOF!"

    Svat turned to the dog, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "What is it, boy? Do you smell Nara on her? Hmhm. Alright, time to act."

    Meanwhile, Svat trailed the mysterious woman, his steps silent against the wet pavement. She stopped at a drugstore and emerged with a bag. After a while, Svat decided to confront her in a secluded area to gain information. However, as the rain began to fall, the woman sought shelter by the side of a building, and Svat awkwardly joined her, pretending to also seek refuge from the rain.

    After a moment of uncomfortable silence, the woman spoke, her voice surprisingly gentle. "That''s a cute dog. We don''t see many of them around here."

    Dogi, happy for the attention, gave a friendly bark. "WOOF!"

    "Oh, he''s hurt," she noticed. "I have some antibiotics in my bag. Mind if I take a look?"

    Svat blinked. "Uh, sure. You a doctor or something?"

    She shook her head, kneeling down as Dogi, sensing a friend, trotted over and gave her hand a good sniff. "Just know a bit about first aid." She looked up at Svat. "Could you hold him still for a sec?"

    A few minutes later, she straightened up. "All patched up. He''ll be fine." She patted Dogi¡¯s head. "You must be new here."

    Svat frowned. "How''d you guess?"

    She chuckled. "Anyone who''s been here a while avoids me like I''m contagious. You didn''t."

    "Why?" Svat asked, genuinely curious.

    Her eyes flickered with a faint blue glow. "Because I''m a farmer''s robot."

    Svat''s jaw dropped. "A robot?!"

    She nodded. "And I know you''ve been following me. What do you want?"

    In Nara''s room, the air was thick with tension. Nara, groggy and in pain, struggled to make sense of her surroundings.

    "Aahh... it hurts...," she moaned.

    A man''s voice, calm yet firm, responded. "She''s awake but in pain. Please increase the anesthetic dose."

    Nara, her voice laced with fear, asked, "Where am I? Who are you? Please, don''t take my organs..."

    The man reassured her. "Don''t worry, kid. We''re helping you."

    Nara, too weak to resist, closed her eyes and whispered, "Thank you," before passing out again.

    Hours later, as morning light filtered through the window, Nara saw Svat sitting beside her.

    "Huh? You''re here... where''s the gondrong?" she tried to sit up but winced in pain, collapsing back onto the bed.

    Svat, his voice tinged with concern, explained, "Mas Panji is on a mission. He hasn''t told us anything yet. And about your body... your right hand, back, and shoulder are broken. They replaced your bones with synthetic animal bones, hehe..."

    Nara''s eyes widened in shock. "WHAT?!"

    ---

    Inside James''s tower, the wind began to howl, a harbinger of the storm brewing outside. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a soundtrack to the impending clash.

    Panji, standing by the window, felt the tension in the air. "Alright. Even the gods themselves seem to bless this night. Are you ready, James?"

    James, a man of few words, nodded. "I am ready, matey. As you can see, my men are already waiting near Blackheart''s tower. I''ve told them to wait for my order to attack."

    James handed Panji a small radio. "Listen to me, matey. You''re going to scout Blackheart''s tower using this radio. I want you to stay in touch with us while we try to destroy Blackheart''s tower. Understand, matey?"

    Panji accepted the radio, determination in his eyes. "Alright. I will scout ahead."

    James nodded. "Alright, matey. We will start our operation now. See you soon. Good luck on your scouting mission."

    Panji, eager to take action, suggested, "Alright, we can split our group to make things faster."

    Panji then lured James''s crew into an ambush at the casino hall.

    "They''re all upstairs, hehe. They won''t expect it."

    The attack began moments later. The casino hall erupted in gunfire. Panji, positioned near a balcony overlooking the chaos, saw Blackheart¡¯s men emerge from the shadows of the slot machines, unleashing a hail of bullets. James''s men scrambled for cover, but they were clearly outmaneuvered.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    The few survivors made a desperate dash for the door, only to be met by Blackheart himself, who unleashed a hail of bullets at point-blank range.

    Only a handful of James''s men survived, and James himself was gravely injured.

    Blackheart: "You have two options: slavery or death."

    James, defiant to the end, spat in Blackheart''s face.

    Blackheart, unfazed, replied, "Or maybe a third option: long, endless pain before death." His men then dragged James into the void.

    Blackheart, with a hint of satisfaction, turned to Panji. "You did a good job," he said, the thunder in the background punctuating his words.

    The morning sun greeted the city with the sound of gunfire between buildings. James''s and Blackheart''s towers exchanged volleys of machine gun fire and RPGs. Atop the Red Dragon''s Keep, they fired ballistas to set up ziplines to James''s tower, using prisoners and slaves as shields against James''s snipers.

    Panji, observing the chaos, couldn''t help but feel a grudging respect for Blackheart''s forces. "Hmmh. Their numbers are still high. I''m somewhat impressed by their resilience. They don''t give up, even without their leader."

    Black, a member of Blackheart''s crew, chuckled. "Of course, mate. Many have been eyeing James''s position from the start. They''ll fight to the bitter end, haha..."

    Later, atop the tower, Blackheart laid out his strategy. "This is how I fight. I''ll launch some slaves as bait on a zipline, and some of my crew will be among them. That way, the snipers will be distracted."

    Panji, questioning the morality of the plan, asked, "Why use the old slaves as bait?"

    Blackheart, unphased, replied, "Their organs are already useless. They have no energy to work, and they''re no longer profitable in the chambers. Heh."

    Panji, understanding yet disheartened, sighed. "Understandable. But what if they shoot indiscriminately?"

    Blackheart laughed. "Haha... don''t worry. Without James''s leadership, they''re like a flock of sheep without a shepherd."

    Panji, clenching his fist, asked, "So, do we start now?"

    Blackheart, ever the strategist, replied, "Wait until the sun is behind us."

    Panji, impressed yet frustrated, mumbled, "Damn bastard."

    ---

    At another building, Nara, still groggy from her ordeal, asked, "What''s that sound from earlier?"

    Svat, trying to decipher the distant noises, replied, "Hmhm. I think I hear explosions and gunfire."

    A child, arriving with a tray, sighed. "They''ve started again... the gang war."

    Svat, curious about the frequency of such conflicts, asked, "Is this a common occurrence in the city?"

    The child nodded. "Yes, but this time it''s more intense. Usually, they shoot at each other for a few hours, but they started at dawn and haven''t stopped..."

    Nara, concerned for her friends, asked, "Boi, is the gondrong among them?"

    Svat, unsure of Panji''s allegiance, replied, "I don''t know, cung. Mas Panji hasn''t said anything. He might have chosen James or Blackheart."

    The child, piecing together the rivalry, exclaimed, "Oh, so this is about those two. The pirate versus the slaver. This will be very intense."

    Svat, curious about the child''s safety, asked, "Are you always safe here?"

    The child, proud of their defenses, answered, "Oh yes. No one dares to attack us because they need our products. We have a robot army."

    Svat, remembering the woman from the previous night, asked, "Does that include the robot who was with me yesterday?"

    The child nodded. "Yes, Maria is our first robot. She''s been around since I was little."

    Svat, intrigued by the child''s father, asked, "And the man who helped Nara, is he a doctor?"

    The child confirmed, "Oh yes, my father is probably the only doctor in the city before medpads became available. That''s why he has influence here."

    Svat, acknowledging the universality of medical need, joked, "Yeah, no matter if you''re a troublemaker or an ordinary person, everyone''s the same when they''re sick, hehe..." He playfully punched Nara''s shoulder.

    Nara, still in pain, groaned. "Duh!"

    he man then comeback with some med"This is going to bring trouble." t

    One hour later, on the Red Dragon rooftop, Blackheart stood with a smirk, issuing orders. "I think this is it... Release the kraken," he chuckled, signaling his men to send the slaves as decoys. "We''ll go after a few waves."

    Panji, observing the setup, interjected, "Wait. What if we place planks on the pulley as shields?"

    Blackheart considered the idea. "Ah, good thinking. Alright, everyone, listen to the red glasses," he commanded, and his men began attaching planks to the front of the decoys. However, James'' men soon blasted some of them with RPGs. Blackheart remarked, "That was a good idea, but human shields seem more fitting for this scenario."

    As the first wave of decoys was sent out, James'' men continued to shoot them down. Panji noted, "It doesn''t seem to be working."

    Blackheart laughed. "That''s expected. Once their bodies reach the other side, they''ll start to realize who they''ve been shooting." He ordered the preparation of the second wave, adding, "You''ll join the pulley during the 12th wave, when they''re distracted."

    Panji asked, "So we only truly attack during the 12th wave? This is insane. How many slaves must be sacrificed? 300? 1000?"

    Blackheart replied sternly, "Don''t exaggerate. We''re at war."

    Panji grabbed a rifle, saying, "Give me that gun."

    Blackheart chuckled, "Oh, so you want to take on the enemy snipers. Be careful, they''re quite accurate from across the way."

    Panji removed his red glasses, took a deep breath, and aimed at the window. He adjusted his scope and fired. "Too low..." he muttered, firing again. The enemy''s muzzle flashes stopped. "Maybe I hit them. Too bad this isn''t a game, so no kill notifications," he chuckled to himself.

    Panji then still in same spot. not changing his position like idiot take a few shot, after taking out the snipers, muttered, "Headshot. Too bad there''s no XP for that."

    Suddenly, his room was hit by machine gun fire. He rolled and took cover. Cloak opened the door and said, "If I were you, I''d run out now."

    Panji immediately fled the room, and moments later, a rocket hit it.

    Cloak asked, "You''re a daredevil, huh? Why the urgency?"

    Panji nodded.

    Cloak continued, "I see. You think you can save some slaves up there?"

    Panji replied, "There''s something that makes us beasts or not."

    Cloak agreed, "Yes... By the way, I can sell you my camouflage cloak for the right price. With this, you can sneak into James'' building undetected."

    Panji asked, "Sell? Why not just give it to me? You know this could end the battle faster."

    Cloak explained, "I know the battle will end, but if Blackheart dominates, I won''t get double payments anymore. And without a strong rival for Blackheart, our income will decrease."

    Panji sighed, "Ah... I thought I was the bad guy, but there''s always someone worse. Fine, how much for your cloak?"

    They haggled, with Cloak initially asking for 10 million and Panji offering 100,000. They settled on 4 million, with Panji able to pay in installments.

    Cloak handed over the cloak and helmet, revealing his black hair. "How do I use this?" Panji asked.

    Cloak instructed, "Your wrists and feet must be covered by the cloak, and don''t move too much when it''s activated."

    Panji thanked him and shot Cloak in the head. "Oh, I forgot... What if the battery runs out?" he asked the corpse. He then carried the body to the elevator, muttering, "Let''s test this cloak."

    As he descended with the body, two men tried to enter the elevator. One asked, "Who''s this?"

    The other replied, "Never seen him before. Must be a merc Blackheart recruited. but this mean elevator line being tracked by sniper. lets use a stairs"

    They decided to take the stairs after seeing the body, thinking the elevator wasn''t safe. Panji opened his cloak, satisfied with its effectiveness. "Wow, it worked," he said to himself. then he look at cloak ¡°so cloak. you dead with no one remember. ¡° panji then check his magazine ¡°that is karma for double agent bastard¡±

    Meanwhile, Salad, a doctor and vegetable seller, was checking on Nara, a captive, with Maria by his side.

    Nara asked, "How am I doing, kind sir?"

    Salad replied, "You''ll be fine soon. And please, call me Salad."

    Nara laughed, "Salad? That''s a funny name."

    Salad explained, "Well, I''m a doctor and I sell vegetables. Vegetables are good for health, and I treat the sick. So, they call me Salad."

    Nara inquired, "Who kidnapped me?"

    Salad answered, "Blackheart''s men. He''s the biggest slaver in town. James isn''t much into slave trading; he focuses on arms deals."

    Nara pondered, "Hmm... Does Gondrong know this? He wants to save me, right? He must have chosen James to rescue me."

    Svat, another character, agreed, "Possibly. He might not have known you escaped. Plus, Blackheart''s followers are too mysterious. In my opinion."

    Salad paused, his gaze distant on the towers. "Blackheart... he''s a man who understands the value of leverage. He knows how to make deals that benefit him, even if others suffer." The way he said it suggested he had firsthand knowledge.

    Salad sigh then look at them, his expresion is unreadable "I understand why your friend is helping James. Despite being evil, James has a clear vision for his trade, which attracts loyal followers. That''s why he''s become the biggest gang over Blackheart. Blackheart, on the other hand, attracts followers with pleasures and his combat skills."

    Nara and Svat nodded in agreement.

    The child, with his remote-controlled drone, brought bad news. "James is in trouble. They''re sending dozens of people on ziplines as decoys."

    Svat exclaimed, "Oh no, that''s cruel. What can we do? Salad, don''t you have robot soldiers? Use them to help James."

    Maria scolded, "Svat!"

    The child asked, "What did he say, mom?!"

    Salad sighed, "Let him speak, Maria. Maybe it''s time they knew the truth... Your mother might still be alive. She didn''t die giving birth to you. There was an agreement between me and Blackheart."

 Chapter 13 Sewers Rats

    Salad sighed, "Maybe it''s time. Follow me, child." Salad and his child beni left the room.

    Maria asked, "Why did you tell him that, Svat? Didn''t I tell you before to keep it a secret, especially when it comes to Beni?"

    Svat replied, "Sorry, it just slipped out. Hehe. But isn''t it better this way?"

    Nara, curious, asked, "Hey, what are you guys talking about? Don''t leave me hanging."

    Svat explained, "In short, Beni''s mother was a runaway slave of Blackheart named Maria. Salad met her, and they got married. However, when Blackheart was searching for his escaped slaves, Maria was already pregnant. Salad made a deal to protect Maria until she gave birth to Beni, ensuring Blackheart got the best price from the farmers."

    Nara interrupted, "Wait a minute... Your name is Maria too. Is that a coincidence?"

    Maria responded, "It''s no coincidence. Beni''s mother implanted a personality chip into my body and memory, making me very similar to her. This way, Beni could be raised as if by his real mother."

    After a long pause, Nara asked, "Alright, but why didn''t Blackheart just let Maria stay with Salad? Why are women here forbidden to exist?"

    Svat replied, "Did you forget to read the history before the Great War? On this continent, they were separated to maintain the population."

    Nara exclaimed, "Yes, I know that! But those are old rules. Why are they still being followed?"

    Maria sighed, "For some people, rules that stick for years become culture, and then mindset. Maybe this mindset is deeply ingrained in people like Blackheart."

    Svat asked, "Can you fight, robot?"

    Maria answered, "Yes and no. Physically, I''m stronger than a human body. However, I''m not programmed for combat; I only know basic self-defense. So, sending robots to Blackheart''s building would be ineffective."

    Svat chuckled, "Heh, I have an idea."

    The battle between James and Blackheart had Watery Grave on a knife''s edge. Their combined power rattled the whole submerged city. It wasn''t just topside chaos; down in the murky depths, pirates in diving suits clashed with harpoons, a watery brawl mirroring the surface war. Turns out, both leaders were hiding way more muscle than they let on, and Panji? He''d just lit the fuse on a powder keg.

    And lurking in the shadows, another faction stirred. They moved through the city''s underbelly: drained tunnels, abandoned metro lines, and the sewer system. These figures were cloaked in darkness, heavily augmented with implants, some even showing signs of mutation.

    Among them were a few distinctive figures: a man in steampunk attire, complete with a black hat and dual katanas; and a woman in large goggles, a brown leather vest, and white pants¡ªstraight out of a steampunk adventure.

    Their sudden appearance startled the local gangs.

    "Back to the sewers, rats!" one gang member yelled, opening fire.

    The man in the steampunk gear¡ªPatrick¡ªdeflected the bullets and charged, his katanas flashing. Someone tried to flank him, but a shot rang out, and they dropped. Bianca, the woman with the goggles, lowered her smoking gun.

    "HA! Sloppy moves, Patrick," Bianca called out.

    "Says who? I was about to parry and finish him," Patrick retorted.

    "Oh yeah? Parry this!" Bianca fired a few shots at him. Patrick deflected them, then lunged at her.

    A burst of machine-gun fire ripped through the air. "Will you two cut it out?" Phonix shouted.a woman with mechanical limb with striking orange hair "Bianca, Patrick¡­ knock it off."

    "MY NAME IS PATRICK!" Patrick roared.

    Phonix sighed. "Fine, Patrick. How about a little competition? Bianca, you bring me James''s head. Patrick, you bring me Blackheart''s. Fastest one wins. Loser cooks."

    Patrick and Bianca grinned. "HA! Sounds good!"

    "Just one thing," Patrick added, his voice rising again. "IT''S PATRICK! NOT RICK! AAAAAAGH!"

    Meanwhile, in James'' tower, Panji started killing guards and snipers in stealth and direct combat on the upper floors.

    Panji wondered, "Huh? Who are they?" as he looked down at the lobby.

    Bianca and others started gun blazing.

    Bianca taunted, "Nyehhhehe... Eat this, pests!" She shot her rifle and, after emptying it, drew dual revolvers.

    Panji muttered, "Hmmhm. The party''s getting livelier... I hope Blackheart isn''t under attack too."

    He walked to the elevator and saw someone coming. He drew his weapon and took a grenade from a dead body. After the ''ting'' and the door opened, he threw the grenade into the elevator, shouting, "A gift for you, friend," and boom.

    From the radio chatter in the elevator, "Black damn it, they''re using ziplines! Everyone, guard the windows! Wait, there''s a rat in the lobby! We need help. Fak tamat, we''re screwed!"

    Panji  heard the activated the radio "Huh? Tharig?! He grabbed the radio, "Tharig from Scarletmoon? Is that you, friend?"

    Tharig replied, "What!? Yeah, it''s me. Who are you?!"

    Panji laughed, "Ahaha.. Fate... It''s me, Panji. Where are you now?"Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Tharig exclaimed, "HA! You''re here too? No wonder. The curse has come... Why aren''t you dead yet? Hehe... Izroil misses you, hahah... Are you with those rat bastards?"

    Panji answered, "No, friend. I''m defending the group in the next building... Hmhm... What are you doing here?"

    Tharig replied, "Can we talk in person? There are over 100 people listening to this conversation. Meet me in the suite... Don''t attack me right away, hahaha... Out!"

    Panji made his way to the penthouse suite, raising his hand in the air and waving, with half his body behind the wall near the door.

    Panji announced, "I''m here."

    Tharig ordered, "Alright... Lower your weapons, boys. He won''t attack, hehe..."

    Panji asked, "Alright... What are you doing here?"

    Tharig replied, "I have the same question. For God''s sake, why are you here?"

    Panji said, "I asked first."

    Tharig pointed his weapon at Panji, saying, "Yeah, but I have more guns. What''s your angle?"

    Panji sighed, "Is this how you greet an old friend?"

    Tharig laughed, "Ahahah.. I''m just imitating what you did to me before. Hehe..."

    Panji chuckled, "Ohh, okay, okay... Still holding a grudge, huh? *sigh* So, here''s the deal..."

    Tharig, cigarette dangling from his lips as he reloaded his machine gun, replied, "Ohhh. I really don¡¯t know whether to punch you or kiss you. You killed my boss, but hey, that bastard is finally dead, and now I own this building... How about I do both to be safe? Heh."

    Panji smirked, "Alright. Now it¡¯s your turn."

    Tharig continued, "Nothing beats your story, friend. I met James when one of his ships docked in India. I started as a regular crew member and worked my way up to lieutenant during a deal with Sumbajhe. When James planned to attack Black, I was still on my way here."

    Panji took a puff and said, "Huh. Your story¡¯s actually pretty interesting."

    Tharig laughed, "HAH! But this isn¡¯t the time for stories. We¡¯re in the middle of a fake war now. What can we do?"

    Panji suggested, "How about I tell Black you¡¯re surrendering?"

    Tharig shot back, "FAK! After all these years, I finally become the boss. You think I¡¯m just going to surrender? Besides, my crew is itching to avenge James'' death. I can¡¯t control them all!"

    Panji sighed, "Hmhm. This is a complicated mess..."

    Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, several figures emerged from the sewers and rivers. People nearby ran in fear, shouting, "The rats are back! Run for your lives!"

    Bianca cursed, "Damn creatures," and shot at the nearby people.

    Patrick said, "Save your bullets for the two fools killing each other above, Bianca...."

    Bianca urged, "Come on, Patrick! I need a warm-up!"

    Patrick drew his double katana, shouting, "Time for justice!"

    Just then, a crew member rushed in. "Boss! We¡¯ve got a problem! The rats are coming! They¡¯re already on the lower floor!"

    Tharig cursed, "Fak! The timing couldn¡¯t be worse. Most of the crew is scattered at the windows facing Black''s attack. Alright, boys... Make barricades. We¡¯ll face them here!"

    Panji offered, "Need a hand, friend? I¡¯ve got this," he said, showing off his railgun. "But for the right price, heh."

    Tharig waved him off, "Forget it. I wouldn¡¯t buy it even for 1 credit."

    Panji shrugged, "Uh, alright," and took cover behind a barricade next to Tharig.

    Tharig laughed, "Ahahah... I know. This isn¡¯t about business anymore, you greedy bastard. It¡¯s about life and death. If we don¡¯t unite, we¡¯re all dead, hahaah! HAHA!"

    The sound of gunfire drew closer. Bianca and her men stood outside the suite door.

    Bianca taunted, "Ahha haha... do you smell that? Hmhm mhmh... the scent of cowards."

    The door burst open, and Tharig yelled, "Give them hell!" They started shooting furiously but quickly realized they were firing at dead crew members. Bianca and her men hid behind them.

    Bianca surprised them, "Surprise? Now it''s my turn, nyeheheh," and they began shooting again. Bianca hid behind pillars, moving swiftly and trying to outflank them, "I''ll quickly overcome these pests."

    Tharig shouted, "Fak! Focus on that damn woman!" He reloaded his machine gun.

    Bianca jumped from barricade to barricade, shooting crew members at point-blank range, "Are you just going to sit and wait for me to finish you off one by one? Boring. But thanks, neheh heh."

    Tharig stood up in front of Bianca as she jumped between barricades, "Eat this, rat," he shot Bianca in the air, and she fell back from the bullet.

    Meanwhile, Panji attacked the rat members, "Uh. They''re not dying," he drew his railgun.

    Bianca screamed, "AAAARRHHH... RATS retreat," she drew a smoke grenade, and they ran away.

    The crew cheered, "We did it. Let''s chase and finish them off!" The other crew members started to leave the barricades and chase them out.

    Tharig yelled, "Wait, you fools. Ahhh!"

    Panji chuckled, "Ahah.. seems you have a problem with charisma. Some people just don''t have the look of a leader, heh."

    Tharig hit Panji''s face with his machine gun, "Uhh, sorry..." Panji adjusted his shades.

    Tharig and Panji, along with some crew members, slowly walked outside the suite and saw their crew members killed, with a letter written in blood, "Let''s play hide and seek."

    Tharig growled, "Arrr// I don''t have time for these rats," he drew his radio, "Explain the situation out there. ''Not good, boss. They seem to be attacking again soon. They''re sending a lot of decoys. We''re starting to struggle to aim.'' Arr!! Just shoot everything! Out!"

    He pointed his machine gun at Panji, "There''s a bigger problem than those rats. So, what''s it going to be? Are you going to keep killing my crew?"

    Panji replied, "Mhm// let me handle the rats."

    Tharig laughed, "HAH! How do I know you''re telling the truth?"

    Panji said seriously, "This time, I''m serious," he removed his shades, "They''re a common enemy. So..."

    Tharig agreed, "Alright... Friend, but remember, if you betray me, I''ll hunt down your entire family."

    Panji nodded, "I know that. Give me a chance..."

    Later, Panji saw a blood trail in the restroom.

    Panji muttered, "Seems like a trap, but... alright," he followed the trail and went inside the toilet. He opened the door and saw a man sitting on the toilet without a head.

    Bianca suddenly appeared behind Panji, "BOO."

    Panji yelled, "What!" He started to grab her, making her shot miss. Panji then shot her in the stomach until his gun was empty.

    Bianca laughed, "Ahaha .. do you think that will kill me?" Panji hit her head with an axe, but it only made a small crack, "Is that all?" She slammed her head into Panji, who fell back and rolled into the toilet stall before she could shoot him. Bianca taunted, "Ahah.. the toilet will be cleaned soon. Can you please leave, darling?" She shot until she reloaded her revolver.

    Panji yelled, "Heyy.." He slid on the floor and shot Bianca with his railgun restroom The railgun unleashed its fury, a thunderclap echoing through the building. The projectile ripped through Bianca, leaving a clean, smoking hole through her torso. The force was so strong that it shattered the glass in the restroom, Bricks and plaster rained down.

    Bianca seemed to say something before falling.

    Panji shouted, "WHAT DID YOU SAY?! Uhh uhh.. I think I burst my eardrums..."

    Panji winced, clutching his ears. "Note to self: bring earplugs next time. And maybe a dustpan."

    meanwhile amid that chaos. in serene farm building, In the warehouse, Maria and Svat were present.

    Maria exclaimed, "Ahh, found it," and handed Svat a helmet with goggles. Svat put it on, and a voice said, "Synchronizing activated, please stand by." Maria added, "Alright, seems like you''re logged in... Your body is mine now."

    Svat asked, "Are you sure about this? This is without Salad''s permission."

    Maria sighed, "It doesn''t matter. Besides, I feel like Beni won''t see me the same way after this..."

    She looked down, saying, "I''m no longer needed. I want to do something before I''m discarded..."

    Svat and Maria returned to Nara''s room.

    Svat showed off, "Look at this, Nara," performing punches and kicks, which Maria mirrored perfectly.

    Nara was impressed, "Damn cool. Hehe... But wait, I guess only you will control the robot. Since I''m still in bed, I can''t join," she pouted.

    Svat laughed, "Hah! I have a toy for you." He summoned a small robot.

    Maria explained, "Beni usually plays with robots. I often help him assemble them. We take spare parts from broken agricultural robots and create new ones."

    Nara, skeptical, said, "Humpf. This robot is very small and shaped like a spider. How am I supposed to attack with this?"

    Svat chuckled, "Hah! Use your imagination. It can do this," he used a remote control to make the robot jump on Nara''s face.

    Nara screamed, "Aaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!"

    Beni entered the room, asking, "Wait, where are you taking my robots?"

    Beni explained the plan, "Here''s the plan. I''ll use the drone to scout around, while Nara''s robot tries to find my mother, and Maria, controlled by Svat, will clear the path." Everyone nodded in agreement.

    The drone threw Nara''s robot from the sky to the Red Dragon tower windows.

    Beni instructed, "Alright, use infrared vision to find the slave rooms."

    Nara, observing, said, "Hmhm. There are so many people locked in every room here. How will I know which one is your mother?"

    Beni stuttered, "Eeee aaa... just look. One by one."

    Meanwhile, Maria used a grappling hook to climb.

    Maria told Svat, "You don''t have to try to move me. I know how to climb. I just need your help when fighting. So, you don''t have to do that."

    Svat, standing up from the floor in Nara''s room after mimicking climbing movements, asked, "Really? Why didn''t you say so earlier?!"

    Meanwhile, at the elevator, Patrick sighed, "Fuhhh.. this is cheating. Blackheart''s building is too tall. Bianca must have already gotten James'' head. Come on, hurry up," he pressed the button furiously.

    The power suddenly cut out. "Damn," Patrick muttered as he forced the elevator door open and climbed out. Just then, he spotted Maria at the window, panicking and climbing faster.

    An idea sparked in his mind. "Ahh, that woman gave me an idea," he thought, and quickly returned to the elevator, climbing the cable to reach the top.

 Chapter 14 Pirate showdown

    Meanwhile, Nara''s robot was trying to open a door when it spotted some slaves inside. "Which one is your mother? She looks like Maria, Beni said."

    Nara spoke through the robot''s radio, "Hey, you''re all free! Which one of you is named Maria?"

    The slaves exchanged confused glances. "Huh? Free? Maria?" one of them replied. "Sorry, we don¡¯t want to leave here, and we don¡¯t know who Maria is."

    Nara was bewildered. "What?! You don¡¯t want to be free? The door is open! The guards are busy now. This is your chance!"

    One slave explained, "Yeah, we know the door isn¡¯t locked. We just don¡¯t want to go out."

    Nara exclaimed, "What?! This is ridiculous! So, you choose to be slaves like this?!" Her robot then moved to another room.

    Nara wondered aloud, "What¡¯s wrong with these people?"

    Maria, entering the building, paused her climb and said, "Well, Nara, sometimes birds in a cage see other flying birds as strange."

    She continued, "Don¡¯t worry. Maybe they keep the rebellious slaves on the upper floors. We¡¯re only in the middle. Beni''s mother must be up there."

    Meanwhile, on the rooftop of the Red Dragon, Blackheart commanded, "Alright, boys. Prepare wave 8... Let everyone know we¡¯ll launch the main attack soon."

    One of his men reported, "Boss, our powerline just went down."

    Blackheart ordered, "Send some people to check it out."

    The man hesitated, "Uh, boss, but we have to use the stairs. It¡¯s 150 floors from the roof to the bottom."

    Blackheart grabbed the man¡¯s shirt. "I see the slaves are more obedient than you..."

    The man stuttered, "Uhh... alright..."

    Maria took the staircase, trying to hide as many men started heading downstairs. Svat suggested, "Looks like we need to find another way."

    Maria agreed, "I can¡¯t climb with the grappling hook anymore. The wind is too strong at this height."

    Beni asked, "Do they have an emergency ladder in the elevator?"

    Maria replied, "I¡¯ll check." She forced the elevator door open and saw Patrick climbing.

    Patrick asked, "Huh? You again? Are you one of Blackheart''s minions?" He pointed his sword at Maria''s neck while still holding onto the elevator cable.

    Maria exclaimed, "No! I¡¯m here to free the slaves!"

    Patrick smiled. "Ahh, you hate slavery, huh? An enemy of my enemy is my friend. Someone with a beard said that... My name is Patrick."

    Maria introduced herself, "Ohh, I¡¯m Maria. Why are you here, Patrick?"

    Patrick explained, "I want to chop off Blackheart''s head so I don¡¯t have to cook today..."

    He continued climbing, "There are many more slaves to save up there, Maria."

    Maria followed him, "Huh? Yeah..." She asked, "What about you, Patrick?"

    Patrick replied, "Not yet... My men are still downstairs. I might be too fast. Hehe."

    At the elevator cable, Patrick commented, "Oh.. you''re the first person from the upper world who can stand my smell."

    Maria replied, "Yeah? Oh, I don''t have a sense of smell."

    Patrick chuckled, "Mhmh.. oh, I see. Hehe.."

    Maria asked, "Are you a rat?"

    Patrick laughed, "Isn''t it obvious?"

    Maria questioned, "Why do you like attacking people here?"

    Patrick answered, "Isn''t that natural, Maria? These cursed people need a lesson.."

    They reached the top, "Seems like this is the end of the elevator route," Patrick forced the elevator door open and saw the hallway filled with Blackheart''s men lined up facing the window.

    Patrick exclaimed, "Ohh.. jackpot..." He jumped into the hallway and drew his dual katanas.

    One of the men asked, "Who is he?"

    Another replied, "It''s the rats!"

    A third ordered, "Finish him!"

    Patrick shouted, "For justice!" He quickly slashed every man at high speed. Blackheart''s men tried to shoot him, but he dodged. Some accidentally shot their friends in the chaos.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Svat was amazed, "Is he human?"

    Maria replied, "Who knows..."

    Nara asked, "Hey, what are you guys seeing?!"

    Beni urged, "Nara, focus on your robot!"

    The last Blackheart man, eyes wide with fear, attempted to flee, but Patrick''s swift kick sent him sprawling. With a menacing grin, Patrick placed his dual swords at the man''s neck.

    "Where is Blackheart?" Patrick demanded, his voice cold as steel. The man, trembling, pointed upwards. "Thank you," Patrick hissed, slicing the man''s neck with a swift, merciless stroke.

    Maria gasped, "Oh myy///" Her gaze fell upon the bodies littering the floor.

    Patrick, with a dark chuckle, asked, "Do you want to see me chop off Blackheart''s head, Maria? Hehe. This might be a new chapter in history... Water grave."

    At the Red Dragon''s peak, a man reported, "Boss, we suddenly can''t contact the vanguard that was going to attack the tower below."

    Black''s voice was laced with irritation, "Huh? What happened? This is already wave 10!!"

    Patrick slammed the rooftop door with a resounding crash, "Your time is up, tyrant."

    Black, recognizing the intruder, sneered, "You!.. Rick? So, this is your doing?"

    Patrick''s roar echoed through the air, "MY NAME IS NOT RICK! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" He charged at Blackheart with the fury of a tempest.

    Blackheart mounted his machine gun, and his men opened fire. Patrick, a master of evasion, dodged and weaved, making his way to the vent hood.

    Maria peeked out from the door, her voice steady, "That''s Blackheart, I''ll display the visual on the monitor."

    Beni and Nara watched in astonishment as the scene unfolded on the monitor.

    Nara exclaimed, "Oh, so that''s Patrick. His movements are cool... Like in the movies. He might not be human."

    Beni, seizing the moment, suggested, "Maybe we should help Patrick. He has a good chance of defeating Blackheart."

    Svat, eyes sharp, noticed, "Ahh, do you see that? There''s a ventilation behind Black. Nara''s robot and the drone might be able to get through it."

    Nara, with a hint of surprise, agreed, "Good idea. Your brain is actually working... for once."

    Beni, with a plan forming, added, "Yeah, and I have an even better idea."

    Meanwhile, a Blackheart man, exhausted, sighed as he entered the basement, ", "Fuhh... finally. Some air," he gasped, wiping his forehead. "Check the generator, will ya?."

    ¡°alright i will check the generator instead¡± Two other grunts grumbled in agreement and moved towards the shadows. The first man fumbled for a light switch, his fingers brushing against a cold metal lever. He yanked it down.

    , illuminating the space and revealing other gang members from various smaller faction with weapons trained on them. behind them a electric box are being hacked

    Salad, with a mocking tone, greeted, "Happy birthday." then Gunfire erupted. after finish of blackheart man. gang members led by salad go to elevator

    Rats poured up the Red Dragon''s elevator cable. "Where''d that crazy one go?" one squeaked.

    "Don''t stop now!" another squeaked.

    The cable suddenly jerked to life as the power returned. "Jump!" a rat shrieked. Most made it to the top, but one plummeted down the shaft, thumping onto the elevator roof.

    The gang members inside the elevator heard the thud.

    Inside the elevator, the impact startled the occupants. "What was that?"

    Salad glanced up. "Something above us."

    Rats clung to the elevator ceiling, some scrambling to get a better grip, others sliding down the sides. The added weight and friction caused the elevator to screech to a halt between floors.

    "Damn it, we''re stuck!" one gang member cursed, jamming his fingers between the doors. Black ooze dripped down from above.

    Meanwhile, Panji muttered, "Duh, my head hurts... I need to punch that railgun seller''s face later..."

    He saw Tharig shouting about something in the distance, "HUH?! WHAT?! I can''t hear you!"

    Tharig pointed his machine gun in Panji''s direction, "HUH! ARE YOU CRAZY, THARIG!" Panji immediately dropped to the ground and activated his cloak. Tharig ran and shot towards Panji, but his target was actually a rat member behind Panji. Tharig kept shooting as he advanced, causing the rat behind Panji to retreat until he hit the building''s glass and fell.

    Panji exclaimed, "Ohh ohh.. why didn''t you say so?"

    Tharig was speechless.

    Panji yelled, "HUH?! KILL BILL!"

    but then the gunfired is suddenly silent at outside at James'' tower, Tharig observed, "Seems like they suddenly stopped attacking. But stay alert, boys..."

    Panji, seated on the sofa, endured someone checking his ears.

    Tharig, with a teasing smirk, asked, "Can you sign language? Hehe. What does this mean?" He flipped Panji off and laughed, "Haha.. this is what happens to greedy people, friend... Ahaha.."

    Panji mumbled something under his breath.

    Tharig continued, "By the way, nice cloak... Where did you buy it? Oh yeah, I forgot you''re deaf... Hehe. Can I take this as compensation for you killing my crew?"

    Panji mumbled again, his voice barely audible.

    Tharig, with a shrug, said, "Alright... I''ll take that as a yes//"

    Meanwhile, Beni announced with a grin, "The drone squad has arrived... Hehe. They''re drones made to spray pesticides and fertilizers for plants. Are you ready, Svat?"

    Svat, ready for action, replied, "Yes, we''ll attack from behind and disrupt their vision."

    Maria, eager for the fight, asked, "Are you ready, Maria?"

    Maria laughed, "Haha.. I''m ready, Svat. Are you ready to teach me fighting techniques?"

    Svat, with a nod, said, "Of course, let''s do this..."

    Nara, not to be left out, interrupted, "Hey, ask me too. Am I ready as well?"

    ...

    Patrick, taunting his enemies, yelled, "Is that all you''ve got! HUH!... I can do this all day until your bullets run out! Hahahaha"

    Black, undeterred, retorted, "And you, are you going to play hide and seek like this until the end of time?" Blackheart hosed down Patrick¡¯s cover with gunfire, the concrete chipping away.

    Suddenly, the vent above them erupted, not with air, but with a torrent of green pesticide. It rained down on everyone, choking the air. Blackheart coughed, firing blindly at one of the drones. The shot connected, but the drone''s explosion only amplified the spray, coating everyone in a sticky, foul-smelling mist.

    Beni, seizing the opportunity, shouted, "Now!"

    Nara''s robot launched itself at one of Black''s men, while Maria charged forward with determination.

    Patrick, joining the fray, asked, "Where''s your weapon, hehe?"

    Maria, with a calm demeanor, explained, "I''m programmed not to use weapons or kill."

    Patrick, momentarily surprised, exclaimed, "Huh?!" as he slashed through enemies.

    Maria, undaunted, added, "Yes, but with my friends'' help, I can do this," she punched her way through the opposition.

    Patrick, impressed, said, "Alright, robot, give me a little boost!"

    Maria, using the wall as leverage, maria then position herself.

    gave Patrick a powerful boost jump. with maria arms power and patrick legs. patrick manage to had a big jump over Blackheart platform. He soared above Blackheart and delivered a devastating kick to his head. They both plummeted from the building, but Patrick caught Blackheart and continued to stab him as they fell.

    Patrick''s voice thundered, "Remember this! My name is PATRICK!!!!!!!!!!"

    Beni, Svat, and Nara watched in awe through the drone''s screen, witnessing the epic confrontation.

    After the tower war, Blackheart''s body was found and burned to ash along with his goons in the central street. Bums and pirate gangs, each sporting their own quirky outfits, stood silently near the fire, marking the start of a new era in the Watery Grave.

    Tharig granted Panji access to an implant to fix his ear, and Panji shared snippets of his journey.

    "Why are you still here? You¡¯ve got enough to build your little city, right?" Tharig asked.

    Panji stayed silent.

    "How much money do you have?" Tharig pressed.

    "10 billion," Panji replied.

    Tharig laughed. "Hah! Now that¡¯s interesting... So, you¡¯re still living modestly. I assume you¡¯ve reached your goal. What happened after I left? What went down after we finally took care of those invaders?"

    "After we beat those invaders, you decided to chase extra cash in the east. I went west and met someone named Kassandra. I worked with her for a while and made a ton of money¡ªmore than our city needed," Panji explained.

    "Let me guess, you fell for that woman?" Tharig teased.

    "No... In the jungle, I killed people, smuggled them, tortured them¡ªall for money. I always thought I was doing it for my family. But then something changed..." Panji''s voice trailed off.

    "And what was that?" Tharig asked.

    "I found my purpose. Every day, after finishing a job, I¡¯d look at the numbers and feel satisfied. I was finally doing something for my family. But once they were well-fed and our city thrived, I just... kept doing the horrible things Kassandra told me to do. It wasn¡¯t about the money anymore; I just loved it..." Panji confessed.

    Tharig''s eyes widened in disbelief. "What? Are you mad? What did she do to you? Did she brainwash you or something?!"

    "It''s just me, Tharig. I just love violence. I don''t care about money; I just like the feeling of adrenaline pumping through me," Panji admitted.

    Tharig took a deep puff, shaking his head. "You are... just terrible. What about the girl and the child with you? Do you want them to be dragged into the devil''s valley like you?"

    "No... I just see myself in her¡ªnaive, sadistic, doing things just because it''s fun," Panji said.

    Tharig scoffed. "Hah! So you think by protecting her, it makes you better? Oh, I understand now... Maybe it''s time for you to repent, Panji. Forget all this. Become my lieutenant. You might still see some action, but it won''t be as thrilling as what you''re doing now."

    "Thank you for the offer, friend. I''ll think about it," Panji responded.

    Tharig laughed heartily. "HA! This isn''t an offer, buddy. This is reality. Let''s be realistic here. How old are you now? 30? 40? Can you still do all that at 60?"

    Tharig continued, "That''s the difference between us. As you know, we were both messed up during the war, but I also think about the future. That''s why I invested my money in a boat. I want to live longer, buddy. I want to see my daughter give birth to my grandchildren. Maybe it''s time for you to forget the past..."

    Tharig concluded, "Now get out of my sight, you psychopath. But remember this, friend¡ªif you ever change, the Watery Grave will always welcome you with open arms..."

    Panji left, and Tharig''s crew asked, "Boss, are you sure about letting him go like that? People like him, who do things for no logical reason, are extremely dangerous."

    Tharig replied, "Relax. I still have hope for that bastard..."

 Chapter 15 Brimstone girl wanna be merc

    Panji recommended Nara to work with Kassandra. Why not? Someone needed to take care of her, in their twisted way. Plus, he was still holding onto that promise¡ªthe dead promise he made to her father.

    Nara''s dad had once been Panji''s friend. On his deathbed, nursing wounds from battle, he had given Panji his last order: to take care of Nara instead of sending her off to her wealthy grandparents, who practically ran a nation. Sure, Nara''s father had his ego issues and some serious father-in-law drama, but Panji, being the good comrade he was, reluctantly agreed. He was now tasked with guarding a living biological weapon and training her to be a mercenary. In Panji''s mind, it sounded like a girl¡¯s dream¡ªat least he didn¡¯t give Nara a weapon in pink.

    In a dimly lit room, Panji broke the silence. "How are you?"

    Nara, caught off guard, replied, "Huh? How are you? I''m fine. But you seem different... what happened?"

    Panji stayed silent, his thoughts a mystery.

    Nara, trying to lighten the mood, continued, "Okay... I won¡¯t go fishing... but what about the work?"

    Finally, Panji spoke up. "Mission accomplished... I just got 1 billion."

    Svat, overhearing, jumped in with excitement. "Cool man... party time! Hahaa..."

    Panji, unimpressed, asked, "Yeah... where''s the robot you told me about?"

    Nara realized the question and responded, "Oh... he''s doing his duty in the garden."

    Deciding to take a break, Panji announced, "Okay, I¡¯ll go out for a while."

    Later, Maria approached Panji, curiosity in her voice. "So... you¡¯re the soldier Nara talks about? Mhmh... is there anything I can help you with?"

    Intrigued, Panji asked, "Does she talk about me often?"

    Maria smiled knowingly. "Oh, of course... she seems to idolize you, hehe... always mentioning Panji this and that."

    Panji probed further, "What about you? I¡¯ve heard your story with the owner of this place."

    Maria¡¯s tone turned somber. "Well... Beni has found his mother, and Salad seems to have earned his reputation as a responsible father. When Beni learned that his father was secretly planning an attack on Blackheart, it seemed like everything had a happy ending..."

    Panji focused on Maria. "And you?"

    Resigned, she answered, "I will be... fixed. When my body is destroyed, my owner will replace me..."

    Empathy filled Panji''s voice as he asked, "Do you accept that?"

    Maria, with a hint of sadness, replied, "Hehe... we are programmed for that..." Like a broken record, she repeats the same phrase, Panji thought. Is this what the future holds for dolls? To be nothing more than a program, rewritten and replaced as needed?

    Changing the subject, Panji asked, "What about Beni''s mother? She must be a little annoyed with you, right?"

    Maria acknowledged the truth. "You''re right about that... Salad doesn¡¯t talk to me anymore. The last time I saw Beni was only in the garden... I don¡¯t play with him like I used to..."

    Panji offered a solution. "Do you want a new job?"

    Later, as Panji walked the streets, he spotted a woman with mechanical limbs, eating noodles near a sewer.

    Trying to strike up a conversation, he complimented, "Hey. Nice hands..."

    Phonix, unimpressed, shot back, "Hey... nice ears," and spat to the side.

    Panji rubbed his ear, taken aback. "Ahh this..."

    Finishing her meal, Phonix questioned, "I guess you''re new here... I bet you don¡¯t know who I am."

    Curious, Panji asked, "Who are you?"

    With a warning tone, Phonix replied, "Someone you don¡¯t want to mess with..."

    Just then, someone approached from behind Panji.

    Patrick, the same dude in tower war. his hand hold the his sword on the scarbard in his hips, asked, "Is there a problem, boss?"

    Phonix dismissed the situation. "Nothing... he¡¯s just a lost tourist..." and they left.

    Panji, reflecting on the city, murmured, "This city is very interesting..." the he reaches for a small vial of red potion and drink it

    Later, he found Nara and Svat. "Nara, Svat... I''ve got two new jobs for us. The first mission is to guard a caravan. The second one is... a destruction mission. I think I¡¯ll take the first one..."

    Nara frowned, clearly unimpressed. "Guarding the caravan? That sounds boring. Why not take the second one?"

    Panji, not in the mood for chaos, replied, "I¡¯m... just not feeling the destruction vibe right now..."

    Svat, sensing the need for a break, chimed in, "Ahh... well... maybe guarding the caravan is a good way to cool down after everything that¡¯s happened."

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Nara huffed, still dissatisfied. "Huh. I don¡¯t want a boring mission."

    In a moment of frustration, Panji slapped Nara''s cheek.

    Nara gasped, "Aahhh! What are you doing?!"

    Realizing his mistake, Panji quickly apologized, "I... I¡¯m sorry..."

    Svat stepped in, trying to defuse the tension. "Whoa, whoa... calm down... what¡¯s wrong, sir?"

    Panji, attempting to make amends, offered, "Sorry... I¡¯m okay. You can take the second mission..." He placed the document on Nara''s bed before leaving.

    Svat, concerned, asked, "What¡¯s wrong with her?"

    Nara rubbed her cheek, remaining silent.

    At the border check of the Free Nation, some of region in there is drowned by sea rising, and to travel between region, they build a border bridge, its not serve for transportation but use to social mobility control.

    a man named "P-1" a border guard approached Panji. He had an implant in his face that made his eyes glow red, giving him a somewhat intimidating appearance, yet he wore a white shirt like a regular officer.

    "Surat please," P-1 demanded.

    Panji handed over the document. "This..."

    P-1 scrutinized the papers. "Two men, one woman, one dog, and one humanoid... are you sterile?"

    Panji cleared his throat, discreetly offering some cash. "Make it on paper that she¡¯s sterile."

    P-1, clearly offended, gestured to his neck, mimicking a decapitation. "Sir, we are honorable border guards. If we are proven guilty..."

    Panji, recalling the skull decorations he had seen in the streets, raised an eyebrow. "I know that... but is there a way around it?"

    P-1 was firm. "She must be clinically proven sterile to enter. Otherwise, she will be separated in a place that... deserves it."

    Panji sighed. "I see... is there really no other way?"

    P-1 shook his head, returning the money. "Nope. By the way, here¡¯s your money back."

    Defeated, Panji took the cash. "Alright..." He left, deep in thought about his next move.

    He glanced at Nara, who looked confused. "What?!"

    With a plan forming, Panji asked, "Have you ever slept in a cargo?"

    He then called Tharig about the next shipment to the Red Nation. Luckily, there was a truck heading that way on the same day.

    In the back of the truck, Panji instructed, "Get in."

    Nara hesitated, eyeing the large crates. "Huh?"

    Panji explained, "This is your new home for about... 48 hours."

    Nara, incredulous, asked, "What? What if I need to go to the bathroom?"

    Panji, unfazed, handed her a bottle. "Use this."

    Svat and Maria couldn¡¯t help but laugh.

    Nara, outraged, exclaimed, "Are you serious?! WUT?!"

    Panji tried to reassure her, "Okay, just don¡¯t let anything get lost. Food and water are in the bag."

    He closed the door, sealing Nara''s fate.

    The driver, ready to go, asked, "Is it finished?"

    Panji gave a thumbs-up, and the truck started rolling, carrying Nara off on her unexpected journey.

    After smuggling Nara to the Red Nation mainland, they parted ways, and Nara began working with Kassandra. This shift took a weight off Panji''s shoulders, allowing him to dive back into his adrenaline-fueled lifestyle, like any good GTA protagonist.

    At the Red Light District

    The neon lights flickered against the wet pavement, casting a surreal glow over the bustling streets. Panji leaned against a lamppost, a determined look etched on his face.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he muttered, glancing at Maria.

    ¡°Wait... I thought Nara was your girlfriend,¡± she teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

    ¡°Nope,¡± he shot back with a smirk. ¡°I have... unique tastes. Keep an eye on her.¡± With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the night.

    He knew someone who could use her unique skills, and it would also provide Nara with a purpose. He sought out Kassandra, contacting her through a secure channel. ''I have someone I want you to meet,'' he said, explaining Nara''s capabilities and Maria''s analytical mind.

    Kassandra was intrigued. A few days later, Nara and Maria found themselves on a transport to meet Kassandra, the details of their future still shrouded in mystery.

    After smuggling Nara to the Red Nation mainland, they parted ways, and Nara was met by one of Kassandra''s contacts. She found herself in a spartan training facility, learning everything from hand-to-hand combat to advanced weaponry. Maria, ever the analyst, helped her master the intricacies of different weapon systems and tactical maneuvers. After several weeks of rigorous training and a few minor jobs to test her skills, Nara was finally ready for her first real mission.

    Nara had come a long way since her days as a mere pawn in the game of war. Now, she was a mercenary, or at least, that''s what she told herself as she adjusted the grey bodysuit clinging to her like a second skin. Her hand rested casually on the hilt of the knife strapped to her thigh, a pose she¡¯d practiced in the mirror until it looked effortlessly cool. Short, practical black hair framed a face that was slowly losing its youthful softness, replaced by a sharper, more determined edge. Player was a strong word, she thought, maybe intern with potential for advancement was more accurate.

    her first job involving the smuggling of weapons to the warlords of Eurasia. Under the watchful eye of Maria, her doll companion, Nara navigated the treacherous waters of the black market with surprising finesse. Maria, with her uncanny ability to analyze situations, quickly identified loopholes that allowed Nara to skip mundane tasks and leap into more lucrative opportunities.

    After spending what felt like 24 hours in internet cafes for an entire week, analyzing countless data streams and secure networks, Maria approached Nara, a glint of digital excitement in her eyes. ¡°I found a broker for you, Nara¡­¡±

    Nara. This one¡¯s a big deal¡ªa Mongolian warlord known as the Phantom Priest. He operates from a high tower in the neon-lit city, and he¡¯s looking for someone with your... unique skills.¡±

    Nara raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°What¡¯s so special about this Phantom Priest?¡±

    Maria smirked. ¡°He¡¯s the real deal. He has a bio-implant that makes him a natural fighter. But he¡¯s also a bit of a traditionalist. He thinks machines are better than flesh.¡±

    As Nara prepared for her meeting with the Phantom Priest, she felt a shift within herself. The girl who once hesitated at the thought of violence was gone. In her place stood a woman hardened by experience, ready to embrace the cold-blooded nature of her new life. She had learned to adapt, to survive, and to thrive in a world that demanded ruthlessness.

    As they approached the towering structure, the city lights flickered like stars in a synthetic sky. The Phantom Priest, a figure clad in a white mask, greeted them with an air of authority.

    ¡°Why would I need a woman with flesh when I have dolls that can do the job just as well?¡± he questioned, his voice smooth yet chilling.

    Maria leaned in, confidence radiating from her. ¡°Because she has character. When the war breaks out, high-ranking officials will need humans, not just robots. You need someone who can think on their feet.¡±

    The Phantom Priest¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°You have keen eyes. Very well, here¡¯s her mission: a traitor from the Red Nation has captured a high-ranking member of the state. Nara can join the mission, but if she fails... well, you know the consequences.¡±

    Maria nodded, her expression serious. ¡°She¡¯s not just any girl. She¡¯s mature beyond her years. I assure you, she¡¯ll deliver.¡±

    Later, as the mission unfolded, Nara found herself working alongside a team of assassins. One of them, a man named Oboro, wielded an anti-material rifle with a casual confidence. ¡°Your job is to attract attention and hold on until we finish. Don¡¯t let their backup catch up,¡± he instructed, his tone matter-of-fact.

    Nara nodded, determination etched on her face. ¡°Got it.¡±

    They arrived at a high snowy peak in the Himalayan mountains, where a building housed the high-ranking criminal they were after. This was Purple Nation territory.

    Along the way, they passed numerous temples showcasing a mix of religions. You could see Buddhist and Hindu deities sharing space, and even Jesus and Spider-Man stood together with Ganesha. The group of assassins, including Nara, struggled to hold back their laughter while traveling with civilians on a local bus, trying to blend in.

    ¡°Hah. Damn those neo-age folks,¡± Alexis, the female assassin, muttered, covering her face with a decorative veil, a nod to the region''s culture.

    As they prepared for the assault, they disembarked from the bus and changed into their advanced bodysuits. Alexis smirked at Oboro. ¡°You¡¯re going to get her killed.¡±

    Oboro kept his binoculars trained on the surroundings. ¡°Job is a job. One danger for another is beauty for some.¡±

    Nara stood at the crossroads between the prison and the barracks, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. Chaos erupted inside as the assassins executed their plan. Oboro took down guards from his sniper perch, while the others, equipped with jetpacks, soared over the high walls, dispatching enemies with precision.

    Meanwhile, Nara remained at her post, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. ¡°Just stand here like a dumb hoe,¡± she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes at the absurdity of it all.

    As the alarms blared, Alexis and the assassins burst into the cell, confronting a man named Wraith, who was engrossed in a game. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s time to leave!¡± Alexis shouted, pinching her nose at the smell.

    Wraith looked up, surprised. ¡°It¡¯s time, huh?¡±

    With the alarm ringing in their ears, the assassins escorted Wraith out, but chaos ensued as guards flooded the area. Nara received a message from Oboro, urging her to hold the reinforcements at bay.

    nara took cover behind a cluster of jagged rocks, her pulse quickening. She activated her thermal vision, scanning the approaching reinforcements. Spotting a patrol moving towards a blind spot, she triggered a series of small explosive charges she had planted earlier, creating a diversion that drew the guards away from the main breach

    ¡°Time to earn my keep,¡± Nara said, adrenaline surging through her veins. She took cover behind rocks and trees, using her surroundings to her advantage as she engaged in a fierce firefight.

    The battle raged on for nearly half an hour, with Nara holding her ground. Just when things looked bleak, Alexis and the assassins hijacked a truck, making a daring escape with Wraith. They sped down the mountain roads, the thrill of the chase electrifying.

    In the midst of the chaos, they slammed into some idols statues in the street. ¡°Watch the car!¡± Oboro shouted, firing at their pursuers. Meanwhile, Alexis, gripping the wheel, shot back, ¡°Shut up! I know what I¡¯m doing... and screw those statues! Heh.¡±

    As they reached their hideout, Wraith vanished into a launch pod, Nara blinked, watching the pod ascend with a whoosh. "Well, that was anticlimactic," she muttered.

    leaving Nara and the assassins to catch their breath. Alexis turned to Nara, respect shining in her eyes. ¡°You did good out there.¡±

    Alexis clapped her on the shoulder, a grin spreading across her face. ¡°You did good out there, kid. Held those reinforcements back like a champ.¡±

    Nara shrugged, a faint blush creeping up her neck. ¡°Yeah, well¡­ I just, uh¡­ stood there mostly. And shot some guys. It wasn¡¯t that big a deal.¡± Inside, however, a warm glow of pride was starting to spread. Maybe this mercenary thing wasn''t so bad after all. As long as she didn¡¯t have to do any more awkward goodbyes.

    Time passed, and Nara transformed into a cold-blooded independent woman. Meanwhile, Svat fell in love with AI VR technology thanks to companying maria all of time now he addicted, retiring early to become an internet caf¨¦ keeper.

 Chapter 16 Turning point

    Panji hopped off his bike, the plate cheekily reading ¡°Awsom.¡± The engine''s roar faded into the background, replaced by the lively sounds of the streets around him. He took a moment to catch his breath and looked up at the sky, where the sun was setting over the Watery Grave, casting long shadows across the half-submerged city.

    Despite the waterlogged mess, life was buzzing here. Makeshift platforms acted as roads, connecting the elevated walkways that rose above the murky depths. People moved with purpose, navigating their new reality. In the distance, hovercrafts and giant drones zipped by, their whirring engines contrasting with the rundown buildings around them. These flying machines served as taxis, ferrying folks from one tower to another, showing how resilient the city''s inhabitants were.

    The vibe felt surprisingly upbeat, especially with the two biggest gangs, James and Blackheart, no longer around to cause trouble. The locals seemed to breathe a little easier. New installations popped up on the towers, including a massive Red Nation monitor blaring typical entertainment for everyone, its bright colors flickering against the dimming sky.

    As Panji strolled toward Tharig¡¯s bar, he passed a thin figure cloaked in shadows. The man, Alam, was flanked by two wanderers acting as his bodyguards. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and there was a shared understanding of the city¡¯s rough-and-tumble nature. Panji felt a flicker of recognition, but it slipped away like water through his fingers. "Eh, must be the wind," he muttered, shaking off the feeling as he moved on.

    Stepping into the dim light of Tharig¡¯s bar, the familiar scent of stale beer and smoke hit him. ¡°Hello there, jackass,¡± Tharig greeted him with a smirk, leaning casually against the bar.

    ¡°Yo¡­ so who¡¯s that?¡± Panji asked, lowering his red shades for a better look, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Just a merc like you, looking for weapons. An amateur. I told him to try a different store,¡± Tharig said, raising an eyebrow with a hint of amusement. ¡°Anyway, ready for the job?¡±

    Panji sighed, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him. The mystery of the man lingered in his mind, but he dismissed it for now, focusing on Tharig instead. He was used to dealing with shady characters, but something about today felt off. The job was the best distraction from the intricate and complex search for meaning that had been gnawing at him lately.

    Meanwhile, in a beach mansion adorned with a giant Red Nation flag¡ªonce the White House¡ªa man known as Wraith lounged in a leather chair, a VR headset strapped to his head. He was a bulky figure, his presence both commanding and unsettling. His secretary, a sharp-eyed woman in a crisp suit, introduced Panji and Tharig when they entered his office.

    Tharig received the documents without a word, nodding along as Wraith remained absorbed in his virtual world. But as they left, Panji stole a last glance at Wraith, a sense of dread settling in his gut.

    ¡°Damn¡­ what is that guy?¡± Panji asked, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Kingpin. A Zion mentor, some say. Others think he¡¯s just another weirdo in this messed-up world. Rumor has it he escaped from shangri laa prison¡ªor even that he¡¯s immortal,¡± Tharig replied, still focused on the documents.

    ¡°Rumors¡­ alright, don¡¯t speak about rumors. What¡¯s the job all about?¡± Panji stopped walking, turning to face Tharig.

    ¡°Simple money. Send weapons to rebels. Make them rely on our market. Go boom boom,¡± Tharig said, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

    ¡°That¡¯s pretty morbid¡­ alright,¡± Panji nodded, the heaviness of their task settling between them.

    As they walked on, a strange feeling washed over Panji. It was as if they were being watched. He glanced around, but the feeling lingered like an itch he couldn¡¯t scratch.

    ¡°You feel something?¡± he asked, uneasy.

    ¡°Just the usual paranoia,¡± Tharig replied, though his tone hinted at doubt.

    ¡°Better we start to port now,¡± Panji insisted.

    ¡°Right,¡± Tharig agreed, but his eyes scanned their surroundings, trying to find the source of Panji¡¯s discomfort.

    Later, aboard a cargo ship laden with weapons, Panji stood guard while Tharig assumed the role of captain. The ship rocked gently on the waves, a stark contrast to the tension that crackled in the air. Tharig had forbidden Panji from seeing inside the cargo, insisting it was classified, leaving Panji to wonder what secrets lay hidden within.

    But as the day wore on, a storm brewed on the horizon, dark clouds rolling in like a predator stalking its prey. The ship began to sway, the cargo shifting with the tumultuous waters. Panji rushed to tighten the straps, his movements frantic.

    Suddenly, a cargo door creaked open, revealing a syringe glinting under the dim lights. Panji¡¯s heart raced as he recognized it¡ªa precision dose, an antidote to a fungi outbreak. Memories of the Third World War flooded back, tales of devastation caused by a similar outbreak.

    ¡°What is this?!¡± Panji exclaimed, spinning to face Tharig, who had just stepped into view.

    ¡°Damn it, Panji! What the fuck are you doing? It¡¯s a highly secret cargo! We need to escort it, not open it!¡± Tharig¡¯s voice was sharp, his calm demeanor faltering.

    ¡°No¡­ answer me first,¡± Panji demanded, gripping the doorframe.

    Tharig clenched his jaw, clearly unprepared for Panji¡¯s persistence. "It''s a shipment of highly sensitive¡­ uh¡­ therapeutic stress balls," Tharig stammered, avoiding Panji''s gaze. "For a very¡­ Special client. They¡­ uh¡­ help them¡­ cope. With¡­ existential dread. Yes, that''s it."

    ¡°Special client? Don¡¯t give me that crap. What¡¯s so special about this ¡®antidote¡¯?¡± Panji pressed, refusing to let go.

    After a tense exchange, Tharig sighed heavily. ¡°Alright¡­ it¡¯s about preparation for World War Four. The Red Nation plans to use a massive fungi outbreak, and only their allies will get the dose. Happy now?¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± Panji blinked in disbelief, the reality crashing down on him.

    Tharig rubbed his temples, frustration evident. ¡°Look, I¡¯m not supposed to say much. But it¡¯s important. A lot of people would kill for that stuff. Including the Reich.¡±

    ¡°What the fuck? What do neo-Nazis have to do with this? Are they your allies now?¡± Panji¡¯s voice was laced with disbelief. The ghosts of the past are never truly buried, he thought, they just find new bodies to inhabit.

    ¡°Ally? Hell no. But they¡¯re always looking to buy anything that gives them an edge. This antidote could be a game changer. We have to deliver it without anyone knowing.¡± Tharig¡¯s voice dropped as he glanced around, lowering his tone. ¡°If word got out, every damn faction would be after us.¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s ditch this cargo. Let them fucking die when the war breaks out!¡± Panji¡¯s anger surged as he drew his pistol.

    ¡°Woah, woah, hold up,¡± Tharig said, raising his hands defensively. ¡°You got it all wrong, man. This isn¡¯t about choosing sides. This is about business. If we ditch this cargo, we lose clients, our reputation¡­ everything.¡±

    ¡°You lost your way, Tharig! They slaughtered our families in the past!¡± Panji shouted, his voice echoing in the chaos of the storm.

    Tharig¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°Don¡¯t you think I know that? I lost people too. But we can¡¯t keep living in the past. We¡¯ve got to look to the future. This cargo is what¡¯s going to ensure us a future.¡±

    ¡°Fuck¡­ Wraith¡­ forget it. Just say some pirates stole it,¡± Panji suggested, desperation leaking into his voice.

    ¡°Are you serious? You want us to say pirates stole it?! That¡¯s a death sentence for both of us,¡± Tharig replied incredulously. ¡°And what about the Reich? You want to deal with their wrath when they can¡¯t get the antidote?¡±

    ¡°I lost my damn childhood to them. Do you think I¡¯ll just help them like nothing?¡± Panji¡¯s grip on his pistol tightened.

    Tharig¡¯s voice dropped to a low rumble. ¡°You think I¡¯ve forgotten? You think I haven¡¯t gone through hell myself? We can¡¯t change the past. All we can do is survive, and live to fight another day. If that means making deals with the Reich or anyone else, that¡¯s what we gotta do.¡±

    ¡°Then why are you betraying your own people?¡± Panji raised his pistol, the tension crackling between them.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t betray anyone! I¡¯m doing what I have to survive, what we all have to survive in this Godless world! Now put down your damn gun, man,¡± Tharig shot back, his hand hovering near his own weapon.

    After a long pause, Panji clenched his jaw and said, ¡°I¡¯ve been Kassandra¡¯s dog for years waiting for my revenge. I don¡¯t give a damn about the Reich. I¡­ I pick my way.¡±

    Tharig studied Panji, disbelief etched on his face. ¡°You¡¯re doing this all for revenge? You¡¯re willing to throw away your life, your future, everything, just for payback?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t give a damn about money. I¡¯ve been dead for years!¡± Panji replied fiercely.

    Tharig¡¯s laugh was bitter. ¡°You¡¯re a crazy son of a bitch, you know that? You want to trade your life for revenge against the Reich? You think that¡¯s gonna bring your family back?¡±

    ¡°Just¡­ lower your gun, man. I don¡¯t want to lose another family. We will find a way,¡± Panji''s voice softened, his resolve wavering.

    Tharig stared at him, the tension palpable. Finally, he sighed and lowered his weapon. ¡°Fine¡­ I¡¯ll lower mine, but you damn well better do the same. We¡¯re not gonna solve anything by killing each other.¡±

    ¡°Good¡­¡± Panji took a deep breath, relief washing over him.

    ¡°Listen, we¡¯re in a tough spot here. The Reich won¡¯t forget about that cargo. They¡¯ll come after us. They might not even believe our lie about pirates taking it,¡± Tharig cautioned.

    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to Kassandra. She¡¯ll back us up,¡± Panji replied, hope flickering in his chest.

    ¡°Kassandra? Are you serious? You think she¡¯ll be willing to help us?¡± Tharig¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡°I¡¯ve worked with her for a long time. She¡¯ll help me¡­ or I¡¯ll bash her smirk on her own desk,¡± Panji replied nonchalantly, a hint of defiance in his tone.

    Tharig chuckled darkly, a begrudging respect creeping into his voice. ¡°You¡¯re a bold one, I¡¯ll give you that. Fine. Go talk to Kassandra. But if she says no¡­¡± He let the threat hang in the air, his gaze unwavering.

    ¡°Good. So let¡¯s ditch this to the sea.¡± Panji¡¯s eyes flicked to the cargo, determination hardening his resolve.

    Tharig nodded, moving toward the cargo hold. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get this done and out of the way. The quicker we get rid of this, the better.¡± He signaled to his men, and they sprang into action, preparing the cargo for jettison.

    Later, at a secret port, the ship was docked. Panji turned to Tharig. ¡°Alright, you just stay low until all is finished.¡±

    Tharig grunted, arms crossed defiantly. ¡°I know how to keep low, Panji. I¡¯ve been doin¡¯ this longer than you have.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Panji replied, the tension between them easing slightly.

    Tharig waved a dismissive hand, a smirk creeping back onto his face. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. I ain¡¯t doing it out of the goodness of my heart, you know.¡±

    ¡°So, why are you doing it?¡±

    Tharig¡¯s smirk faded, replaced by a grim look. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I have my own score to settle. The Reich ain¡¯t the only bastards I hate.¡±

    Panji raised an eyebrow and smirked. ¡°So¡­ I clean your eyes, huh?¡±

    Tharig chuckled, giving Panji a sharp look. ¡°Don¡¯t get too cocky, kid. My eyes have been clear for years. Yours are still clouded.¡±

    later Panji stood before the White House, he dismount his bike.  the looming structure casting a long shadow over him. He had accepted his fate; he could die today at the hands of Wraith. To prepare, he strapped a bomb vest tightly around his torso, a drastic measure if things went sideways. With his heart pounding in his chest, he pushed through the ornate doors.

    Inside, he was led to a room that felt more relaxed than the last. The walls were adorned with tiger leather wallpaper, and a sense of luxury hung in the air. Wraith sat behind a polished desk, his VR headset finally removed, revealing a man whose presence was both captivating and unsettling. On his back was a grotesque painting of a woman, her features twisted in agony.

    ¡°Mission failed,¡± Panji said, his voice steady even as his finger rested on the ring of the detonator. ¡°The cargo was stolen by pirates.¡±

    Wraith regarded him coolly, flanked by his bodyguards. ¡°Well, that¡¯s unfortunate. It¡¯s okay.¡±

    Panji blinked, taken aback. ¡°What? You¡¯re not angry?¡±

    Wraith¡¯s tone was flat, devoid of emotion. ¡°For what? My anger won¡¯t bring my cargo back. So, what happened to the ship?¡±

    Panji cleared his throat, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. ¡°It¡¯s all stolen. They boarded the ship during the storm, and only a handful of survivors managed to flee.¡±

    Wraith nodded to his secretary, who quickly relayed the message to others. Alarm bells rang in Panji¡¯s mind. ¡°What are you going to do?¡± he asked, trying to keep his tone calm.

    Wraith smiled, but it was a smile that sent chills down Panji¡¯s spine. ¡°Retaliation.¡±

    Panji¡¯s heart raced, dread pooling in his stomach. After a tense pause, Wraith added, ¡°You can leave now.¡±

    Panji exited the White House, his mind racing. He checked his phone, and his blood ran cold. A message read: ¡°Tharig¡¯s port is blown up.¡± His eyes widened as he looked toward the southern sky, the direction of Tharig¡¯s hidden port. Gritting his teeth, he knew what he had to do.

    He rode to Tharig''s house knowing his wife and child were still alive,later in elite complex which only rich people who had enough influence and money to can living along side with their family. He knocked on the door and left a bag of money on the front steps before stepping back. At least this was something he could do for now.

    With a heavy heart, he turned and rode off, determined to seek answers.

    ---

    Panji hit the road to Arizona, passing countless ads urging folks to join the military¡ªeverywhere from the city streets to the desert, even plastered on the walls of nightclubs and Caesar temples. Finally, he parked his bike outside a bar lined with motorcycles, its entrance adorned with a picture of a woman riding a bike, complete with a Viking helmet.

    Panji arrives at the bar, his movements sluggish, his eyes unfocused. He sits heavily at his usual spot, barely registering the bartender''s greeting. He fumbles in his pocket, pulling out a small vial and taking a quick sniff before ordering his usual drink. The initial numbness gives way to a forced joviality as he tries to engage in conversation.

    ¡°Oh, look who¡¯s here,¡± the bartender chuckled, sliding a familiar blood-red milkshake toward Panji.

    ¡°Heh, thanks,¡± Panji replied, taking a sip. ¡°What¡¯s new?¡±

    ¡°Depends on what you mean,¡± the bartender grinned. ¡°What are you asking about?¡±

    ¡°About the crew,¡± Panji clarified, leaning forward.

    ¡°Things have been quiet since you left,¡± the bartender said, his gaze drifting to the wall adorned with faded photographs. ¡°But¡­¡± He pointed at the pictures. ¡°You know¡­¡±

    Panji¡¯s heart sank as he recognized the faces. ¡°Robert... James... Layla... Cisco... and¡­¡±

    ¡°Ardo,¡± the bartender finished softly.

    Panji closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the bittersweet memory. ¡°I hope they¡¯re resting in peace.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± the bartender replied, his voice heavy with understanding.

    ¡°I heard there¡¯s something brewing in Siberia,¡± Panji continued, a flicker of intrigue sparking in his eyes.

    ¡°Ah, you¡¯ll get yourself killed there,¡± the bartender warned. ¡°This isn¡¯t just another gang war; it¡¯s going to be a bloodbath.¡±

    ¡°Is Vita upstairs?¡± Panji asked, changing the subject.

    ¡°Of course, cowboy,¡± the bartender replied, but a note of caution colored his tone. ¡°Wait... don¡¯t take her with you to damn Siberia. I¡¯m warning you, Panji. Don¡¯t take her from me.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not a robot,¡± Panji shot back. ¡°She has her own choices.¡± He walked away, leaving the bartender¡¯s worried gaze behind.

    ---

    In a small room upstairs, a woman strummed a guitar, her fingers dancing over the strings.

    ¡°Tadaaa... I¡¯m back,¡± Panji announced, a grin spreading across his face.

    Vita looked up, her brow furrowed. ¡°Oh? What happened to your ears?¡±

    Days later, Vita was busy fixing Panji''s ear implants.

    ¡°You rely on painkillers too much. They mean nothing if this isn¡¯t fixed!¡± she said, smacking Panji on the shoulder after finishing the final operation.

    ¡°Hehe, yeah...¡± Panji replied, taking a sip of his beer.

    Vita sighed. ¡°You know how long you can keep this up? Sooner or later, you¡¯ll become a borg. You''ll start speaking in binary, developing an uncontrollable urge to organize everything into spreadsheets, and your ringtone will be the dial-up modem sound¡± She rubbed Panji''s arm, half of which was made of composite implant.

    Panji lowered his beer. ¡°I don¡¯t know... but I¡¯d be cool with being a robot, right? Hehe.¡±

    Vita rolled her eyes. ¡°Fool. Those implants will alter your psychology too. You¡¯ll become unstable... no longer human, just like those wind-up girls.¡±

    Panji nodded. ¡°Yeah, wind-up girls. That¡¯s messed up. So, is my ear fixed?¡±

    Vita confirmed, ¡°Yes. This tech probably comes from Blue or White Nation, judging by its high-tech simplicity. The guy who put it on your ear was an amateur.¡±

    Panji chuckled. ¡°Yeah, just some alley doctor. What do we expect? Unlike you, the expert combat medic.¡± He winked at her.

 Chapter 17 The Valkyrie

    Later, Panji opened the garage doors, revealing a handful of people revving their motorcycles.

    ¡°Just like old times. Valkyrie, let¡¯s ride... we¡¯re heading west!¡± he called out, excitement bubbling in his chest.

    A bulky man with full cybernetic arms spoke up.

    ¡°Ha! Is a motorcycle better than a horse or a camel, Panji?¡± Chrome laughed, his titanium teeth glinting in the light.

    ¡°It depends on the culture of the land,¡± Panji replied, a smirk creeping on his lips.

    ¡°HAH! You¡¯re still the same, huh?¡± Chrome cackled.

    ¡°Not quite, Chrome. We¡¯ve all changed. No one stays the same forever.¡± Except maybe you, Panji thought, looking at Chrome¡¯s unchanging metal features. Are you more machine than man now?

    ¡°Sure, just like my teeth,¡± Chrome shot back, flashing his metallic grin.

    Panji chuckled. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re lucky. Cisco wasn¡¯t so fortunate; his face got wrecked dealing with those corporate bastards.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Chrome nodded. ¡°Hey, who¡¯s our friend in the arena?¡±

    ¡°Ahh... Brutus? He¡¯s the champion now,¡± Chrome laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. ¡°That poor guy is so lucky!¡±

    Vita, leaning against her bike, raised an eyebrow. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan, macho man?¡±

    ¡°Kill Zion. Stop the war,¡± Panji declared, his voice steady but intense.

    Vita and Chrome exchanged glances, the weight of his words sinking in. Vita¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°Roger that... It¡¯s good to see you again, Panji... with a new motivation.¡±

    ¡°Of course, dear. Let¡¯s finish this,¡± Panji replied, determination burning in his eyes.

    But Chrome couldn¡¯t help but add, a hint of cowardice creeping into his tone, ¡°If you¡¯re embarking on a journey of revenge, they say you should dig two graves first.¡±

    Panji nodded solemnly, the weight of his quest settling in. The roar of engines filled the air as the Valkyrie motor gang, led by Panji, sped through the neon-lit streets, ignoring red lights like they were mere suggestions. The thrill of the ride coursed through him, a rush he hadn¡¯t felt in too long.

    ¡°Hey Vita, where¡¯s Techno¡¯s workshop?¡± Panji shouted over the thunderous noise of their bikes.

    Vita, her wild hair streaming in the wind, shot ahead. ¡°HAH! You¡¯re such a slowpoke! Follow me!¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t been in this city for ages¡ªeverything¡¯s changed!¡± he called out, trying to keep pace.

    Suddenly, the peace of their ride shattered as two SUVs barreled onto the scene, ramming into the Valkyrie gang.

    ¡°WUT?! Who the hell are these guys?¡± Chrome yelled, swerving to avoid a collision.

    The SUVs continued their relentless assault, sending one of the Valkyrie riders crashing into a nearby alley.

    ¡°NO, JACK!¡± Chrome shouted, his heart racing. Anger surged through him. ¡°You¡¯ll pay for this, you bastards!¡± He drew his gun while still riding, firing shots at the SUV, the adrenaline fueling his aim.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°THEY¡¯RE SHOOTING AT US!¡± Vita screamed, her eyes wide.

    ¡°Damn it! Everyone scatter!¡± Panji barked, veering off in a separate direction. The gang split, each member fighting to evade the oncoming threat. One SUV pursued Panji and Vita, while the other chased Chrome and his crew.

    The SUVs opened fire, bullets ricocheting off the surrounding buildings. ¡°Scatter!¡± Panji yelled, dodging a stray shot. The Valkyrie split, each rider improvising their escape.

    Panji and Vita took a sharp turn into a narrow alleyway, narrowly avoiding a collision with a pile of trash. ¡°Sorry, pal!¡± Panji shouted to a startled bum who scrambled out of the way.

    Meanwhile, Chrome rallied his crew. ¡°Come on, guys! Surround them!¡± They charged at the SUV, smashing the windows with their weapons. Chaos ensued as they fought, managing to take down a few of the occupants. After an intense struggle, the SUV crashed, the driver slumping lifelessly over the wheel.

    ¡°Get out! Now!¡± Chrome growled, drawing a heavy chain from his belt.

    Back with Panji, he ducked into a secluded alley, panting heavily as he pulled out his phone. The screen lit up with Kassandra¡¯s name.

    ¡°Ahah... you bastard. What are you going to do? Send in the troops?!¡± he hissed into the phone.

    ¡°Hmm? What are you talking about, darling? This isn¡¯t my doing... and no, we aren¡¯t sending troops. Let the public judge,¡± Kassandra replied, her voice smooth yet chilling.

    ¡°Ah, of course¡ªpublic opinion,¡± Panji scoffed.

    ¡°Think this through... why would I want to trap you? You¡¯ve worked hard for me. Look, if you still trust me, meet me at Triple Tower.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Triple Tower? Why don¡¯t you just pick me up and we can talk face to face?¡±

    ¡°Ahaha! What if you try to trap me later?¡± she teased.

    ¡°This conversation is going nowhere,¡± he snapped.

    ¡°You know where to find me... bye!¡±

    ¡°FAK!¡± Panji cursed, throwing his phone against the wall before picking it back up.

    Vita rolled her eyes. ¡°What did you expect? You destroyed her shipment; of course, she wants you dead.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s... more complicated than you think. I¡¯ll explain later,¡± Panji replied, frustration leaking into his voice as he pocketed the phone.

    Vita raised an eyebrow but continued leading the convoy. ¡°Here we are... Techno¡¯s place.¡±

    Panji dismounted and pounded on the garage door. ¡°Hey, Techno! Wake up! Hey!¡±

    A small monitor flickered to life beside the door.

    ¡°Hey, dude... use technology, don¡¯t bring violence to my place,¡± Techno¡¯s voice crackled through the speaker.

    ¡°Wait a minute. Panji? Hohoh... Thought you were fertilizer!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I thought the same,¡± Panji replied, a mix of relief and nostalgia flooding through him.

    They arrived at Techno¡¯s workshop, a chaotic space filled with wires, screens, and half-finished gadgets. Techno, a wiry man with goggles perched on his forehead, greeted them with a wide grin. as he examined Panji''s broken phone, his fingers deftly working to fix the device. ¡°Well, that¡¯s an interesting story,¡± he remarked, glancing up at Panji. ¡°I¡¯ve got access to the phone lines.¡±

    ¡°I owe you one, man,¡± Panji replied, trying to dial out but only getting static. ¡°Damn¡­¡±

    Vita leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a frown creasing her brow. ¡°I don¡¯t like this. Maybe I should go find the others¡­¡±

    Just then, the garage doors swung open with a loud clatter. Chrome and a couple of other Valkyrie members stormed in, dragging a man bound in chains.

    ¡°Wow, wow! What are you maniacs doing?¡± Techno exclaimed, raising his hands. ¡°I told you, I¡¯m not part of Valkyrie anymore! I¡¯m on the scooter gang now! If you want to do your dirty work, don¡¯t do it here!¡±

    ¡°Come on, Four-Eyes, this is an emergency!¡± Chrome shot back, urgency etched on his face.

    ¡°Alright, Iron Jaw,¡± Techno replied, his tone serious. ¡°But I don¡¯t want any blood in my shop. Clean it up and make sure there¡¯s no smell!¡±

    ¡°Hoho, this isn¡¯t the time for jokes,¡± Chrome snapped, pulling the man into another room. ¡°Panji, we¡¯ve lost Jacky, Vudi, and Chuck.¡±

    ¡°Damn¡­¡± Panji rubbed his face, frustration building.

    Later, Techno handed the repaired phone back to Panji. ¡°Here¡¯s your phone.¡±

    Panji took it eagerly, but when he dialed, his heart sank. ¡°Hey, Maria?¡­ Damn. It¡¯s not working.¡±

    ¡°Where are your friends now?¡± Techno asked, concern flickering across his face.

    ¡°In Canada¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s why,¡± Techno replied, smirking. ¡°It¡¯s not your phone that¡¯s broken, idiot. They¡¯ve set up a jammer.¡±

    ¡°Fak! How am I supposed to reach them? They¡¯re hundreds of kilometers away¡­ Damn, what if they¡¯re walking into a trap?¡±

    Vita raised an eyebrow, skepticism playing in her voice. ¡°So, who are your friends, Panji?¡±

    Panji sighed, launching into the story. ¡°They¡¯re just a couple of lost kids I felt sorry for¡­¡±

    ¡°Let me summarize,¡± Vita interrupted, her voice dripping with disbelief. ¡°You brought two lost kids along because you felt sorry for them? What kind of nonsense is that? If you really had sympathy for them, you should¡¯ve told them to stay away from you, idiot.¡±

    Panji raised his hand in defeat. ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    ¡°Is the drama done? Can you two get out of here already?¡± Techno grumbled. ¡°I¡¯m allergic to low IQ people.¡±

    Vita shot back, ¡°You¡¯re one to talk, Techno. Why¡¯d you leave the gang?¡±

    ¡°Hey, I love to ride,¡± Techno said, shrugging. ¡°Everything was fine when our gang was just a riding fan club. A little fighting here and there was no big deal¡­ but then everything changed when the psycho veterans showed up¡­¡± They brought the real war home, he thought, their minds broken by battles fought in faraway lands, now turning their skills on their own people

    ¡°Wow, Techno¡ª¡± Vita began, but Panji interrupted.

    ¡°Sorry, Techno¡­¡±

    ¡°Sure, Red Devil, you should¡¯ve said that ten years ago. It¡¯s too late now. I¡¯m a scooter gang member now! BLUE AZURE!¡± Techno raised his arms triumphantly.

    Panji and Vita exchanged a glance, both unsure how to respond.

    Then Chrome returned, his hands stained with blood. ¡°Hey, check this out!¡± He opened his palm to reveal a small robotic grasshopper.

    ¡°Let me see that¡­¡± Techno leaned in, examining the robot under his microscope. ¡°Hey¡­ damn, cool!¡±

    ¡°Look at this on the monitor, guys,¡± he said, pointing at the screen.

    The monitor illuminated, displaying a complex robot with various camera lenses embedded in its frame.

    ¡°Spy robot?¡± Vita asked, her eyes widening.

    Techno connected the robot to his computer. The monitor flickered to life, displaying a series of maps and schematics. ¡°These are¡­ interesting. They¡¯re targeting key infrastructure points within the Red Nation¡­ power grids, communication hubs, even water purification plants.¡±

    Panji leaned closer. ¡°Why?¡±

    Techno pointed to a highlighted area on one of the maps. ¡°This region has seen a significant increase in gang activity lately¡­ mostly ex-Red Nation soldiers. It looks like someone¡¯s planning to destabilize the region, create chaos.¡±

    Vita¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Setting the stage for¡­ a rebellion?¡±

    Techno nodded. ¡°Exactly. And with the Red Nation¡¯s recruitment problems¡­ they¡¯re vulnerable.¡±

 Chapter 18 The Summit of Deceit

    ¡°I hope Nara is doing alright, wherever she is¡­¡± Panji thought while riding on his bike, a flicker of concern crossing his mind. He remembered the promise he made to her father¡­

    Meanwhile, in Canada, Nara had joined a brigade filled with deranged and mentally unstable individuals known as the Bastard Brigade. This was another one of Zion''s tactics to break the stalemate in combat. They were used for sabotage missions or to carry flamethrowers into enemy territory¡ªa risky job, but it paid off.

    Nara, with her twisted sense of pleasure, saw this as an opportunity to stand out among the crazies. Little did she know, she might actually belong to their level of madness. She wanted to prove something; she craved attention. That¡¯s what she craved. Too bad her attention was focused on the wrong person¡ªPanji

    The towering skyline of Triple Towers loomed ahead, three colossal structures reaching for the sky. Chrome shook his head, a smirk on his lips. ¡°TT¡­ heh, what a ridiculous name for a den of thugs.¡±

    Panji narrowed his gaze. ¡°Yeah, well¡­ are you sure about this? It could be a trap.¡±

    Chrome shrugged, glancing at the other Valkyrie members. ¡°We could die with you or without you, so¡­¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°Death is all that lies ahead.¡±

    Panji nodded, determination set in his eyes. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this.¡±

    The lobby was stark and sterile. A brooding guard stood at the entrance, arms crossed. ¡°Only three can enter. All weapons must be left here.¡±

    Chrome chuckled, unstrapping his arsenal with a flourish¡ªchains, knuckles, three pistols, a sawed-off shotgun, a machete, and grenades clattered to the floor. ¡°Heh¡­ did you think I¡¯d bring my entire arsenal?¡±

    ¡°Did you forget your automatic rifle?¡± the guard quipped, unimpressed.

    As they neared the elevator, they encountered the Steel of Angles gang. Tension crackled in the air as they exchanged glances,they are the rival gang, but then moved on without uttering a word.

    ¡°Maybe only one of us will die,¡± Chrome mused with a grim smile as they crowded into the elevator.

    The elevator dinged as it reached the top floor. They stepped out into a lavish office, where a woman sat behind an imposing desk, dressed in a military-style suit. Her white hair framed a face that was both striking and formidable.

    ¡°Ohh¡­ finally, you¡¯ve arrived,¡± Kassandra purred, a sly smile curling on her lips.

    ¡°Kassandra, my love,¡± Panji replied, feeling a mix of relief and tension wash over him.

    She tapped her fingers against her lips, listening intently as Panji recounted their harrowing journey. ¡°Only a few have access to the technology you mentioned¡­ the White State has it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Panji said, his brow furrowing.

    Vita leaned forward, curiosity piqued. ¡°Wait. So you¡¯re not mad at us?¡±

    ¡°Not at all. This might be our fault too. We¡¯ve heard rumors of rebellion in the south for some time. But¡­ sigh¡­ we¡¯re about to start a war with neighboring countries. Zion thinks spreading this news will hurt morale,¡± Kassandra explained, her tone grave.

    ¡°Okay, what about those who were chasing us? And why did we run into the Steel of Angles?¡± Panji pressed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know who¡¯s after you. As for the Steel of Angles, I only told them not to get involved,¡± Kassandra replied, her tone curt.

    Vita crossed her arms, skepticism etched on her features. ¡°So you¡¯re here trying to fix things?¡±

    ¡°HA! Of course! That¡¯s my job. What do you think I am?¡± Kassandra shot back. Panji thought to himself, ''She talks about fixing things, but it feels like she''s just rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

    Chrome interjected, ¡°But something smells fishy here¡­ what¡¯s with the news on TV?¡±

    ¡°Good question. All news in this country originates from California. Everything that comes in is monitored by the Free World Council,¡± Kassandra explained, her voice steady.

    ¡°Oh, really? But the convoy incident took less than a day to broadcast,¡± Panji noted, suspicion creeping into his voice.

    ¡°You¡¯re right about that. There¡¯s still a lot of mystery surrounding it. But for now, this is all I can tell you,¡± Kassandra replied, her gaze locking onto Panji. ¡°And why are you still wearing that old patched jacket? What happened to your billion?¡±

    ¡°WUT?! One billion?¡± Chrome and Vita echoed in disbelief.

    As they exited the office, Chrome turned to Panji. ¡°Alright, buddy. You¡¯ve got a story to tell us¡­ you¡¯re not poor anymore, are you? Your little village in Africa must have gold floors.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s true¡­ a lot has happened,¡± Panji admitted, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

    ¡°Why are you still here?¡± Vita pressed.

    ¡°That¡¯s something I¡­ really want to know the answer to,¡± Panji replied, his expression darkening.

    Later, Panji¡¯s phone buzzed, startling him. It was Techno. ¡°Hey! Did you escape the witch¡¯s grip? ¡­ Good. Meet me at the garage, quick!¡±

    Vita sighed, rolling her eyes. ¡°Very funny¡­¡±

    At Techno¡¯s garage, a sense of urgency filled the air. ¡°I found a link in the robot we discovered yesterday,¡± Techno said, excitement bubbling in his voice. ¡°I posted it on a forum, and people have been spotting similar robots in the sewers and on rooftops.¡±

    ¡°Hey, wait a minute¡­ what forum?¡± Panji asked, brow furrowed.

    ¡°Internet, stupid!.. yes that old legend. I can access anything there. That¡¯s why I have a higher IQ than¡­ ¡®Valkyrieee¡¯,¡± Techno replied, grinning.

    Panji sighed. ¡°Why are they finding these things in sewers or on roofs?¡±

    ¡°Dunno, maybe the batteries died? Or they crashed? Oh, yeah, sometimes they hit car windows too,¡± Techno chuckled.

    ¡°How long have these robots been showing up?¡± Panji inquired.

    ¡°Well¡­ the earliest post about these robots is around two years ago. They¡¯re still pretty new¡­ hot news,¡± Techno explained.

    ¡°Do we have any clues about where they¡¯re coming from?¡± Panji pressed.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ I don¡¯t know. There are conspiracy theories flying around, even aliens, but I think that¡¯s all nonsense. Not a single one of them has a real profile picture or bio,¡± Techno snorted.

    ¡°Oh really? What about your own account?¡± Chrome chimed in with a smirk.

    ¡°Hey! Only idiots reveal personal information online!, pokemun, facebik, they all goverment tools!¡± Techno retorted.

    ¡°Alright¡­ hmhm¡­¡± Panji muttered, deep in thought.

    Techno continued, ¡°But I might just have a feeling¡­ the posts about these robots seem to be centered around California, like Cascadia and Las Vegas. More people in those areas seem to have computers than elsewhere.¡±

    ¡°Of course¡­¡± Panji mused, piecing it all together. He thought, ''It''s always the centers of power that cause the most trouble. Like those ancient cities, attracting all the wealth and causing all the problems

    Vita chimed in, ¡°So, are we heading there? Or do you want to see those two kids first, Panji?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯ll let fate decide,¡± Panji said, pulling out a coin. ¡°If it lands heads, we go to California. If it¡¯s tails, we head to Canada.¡±

    ¡°An excellent choice for a madman. Good luck,¡± Techno laughed.

    ¡°This is it,¡±

    Panji flipped the coin into the air, watching it spin against the backdrop of uncertainty. As it landed, a vision flickered in his mind¡ªan image of the iconic California skyline, bathed in sunlight.

    ¡°YES! Gambar!¡± he exclaimed, a grin breaking across his face.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Vita and Chrome exchanged glances.

    ¡°Um, so we¡¯re going to California?¡± Vita asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Panji affirmed, excitement bubbling within him.

    Back at the Valkyrie Bar, the familiar dim light and the smell of stale beer were a welcome sight. Bart, the bartender, looked up from wiping down the counter. ¡°California, huh? Heard you¡¯re heading west. If you see the Red Highway, grab me a shot, will ya? That place is iconic. I¡¯d love to hang a picture of it on the wall.¡±

    Panji chuckled. ¡°Sure thing, Bart. If I remember.¡± He slid onto his usual stool, a weariness settling over him despite the successful meeting with the Lord.

    Later, as the bar emptied and the remaining Valkyrie members drifted off to sleep, Panji found himself alone with Vita. He rubbed the side of his head, a grimace twisting his features. ¡°Damn implant¡¯s acting up again.¡±

    Vita¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Still giving you trouble?¡±

    ¡°Constant sting,¡± Panji muttered. ¡°Worse since we left the Free World. Feels like it¡¯s amplified out here.¡±

    ¡°That explains the¡­ jumpiness,¡± Vita observed, her eyes narrowing. She reached into her bag and pulled out a syringe. ¡°Hold still.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Panji asked, tensing.

    ¡°Something to take the edge off,¡± Vita replied, injecting him in the back of the neck before he could protest.

    ¡°Au! What the¡ª?¡± Panji exclaimed, rubbing his neck. A wave of drowsiness washed over him.

    ¡°Night, Panji,¡± Vita said softly, covering him with a blanket.

    The next morning, Panji stood before the cracked mirror in the back room, examining the faint mark on his neck. ¡°Thanks, Doc,¡± he muttered as Vita passed by, already dressed and ready to go.

    ¡°Anytime,¡± she replied with a tired smile.

    Back in the main bar area, Bart had the news on. A headline flashed across the screen: ¡°Gang Boldly Attacks Council, Valkyrie Shooting at SUVs.¡±

    Panji took a sip of his drink, a wry smile twisting his lips. ¡°Well, looks like we¡¯ve been framed.¡±

    Chrome burst into the bar, his booming laughter echoing through the room. ¡°Rise and shine, you sleepyheads! Eat! Drink! Get your fill of music and mayhem! Because tomorrow, we going to fucking hell!¡±

    As they rode, the Valkyrie spotted a group of bald bikers in dark shades parked by the side of the road. The Steel of Angels.

    ¡°We¡¯re not looking for trouble,¡± Panji called out.

    ¡°Of course¡­ someone¡¯s put a bounty on your head,¡± one of the Steel members replied.

    ¡°Oh? Who are they?¡± Panji asked, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know¡­ maybe Corp,¡± the Steel member shrugged.

    ¡°Come on¡­ you want cash? Here¡­¡± Panji tossed a bag of money toward him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want your dirty money, man. We¡¯ve got business that¡¯s cleaner than yours. All I know is that someone reached out to one of my guys, offering 50,000 credits for your head.¡±

    ¡°Then take this 100,000 credits just for the info,¡± Panji said, tossing the bag again, satisfied.

    ¡°Hey¡­¡± the Steel member started, but the Valkyrie gang continued riding.

    Vita shook her head. ¡°I doubt Kassandra would set us up with such a small bounty. Hah!¡±

    ¡°Small or not, there are plenty of people willing to kill for 500 credits in front of us,¡± Chrome replied, glancing back at the road ahead.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Panji muttered, lost in thought.

    The sign reading ¡°Farewell, Arizona¡± blurred past. Chrome sighed, a hint of melancholy in his voice ¡°Goodbye, home. Goodbye, Grandma¡­ huh.¡±

    The gang took a break after navigating some treacherous mountain trails, parking their bikes near a cliff edge.Some of the Valkyrie members were busy taking pictures with their cybernetic eye implants, capturing the moment for their digital memories.

    ¡°Ahh, ahead is Iron Maiden territory,¡± Chrome announced, scanning the surroundings.

    ¡°WOMEN!!!¡± one of the Valkyrie members shouted, and laughter erupted around them.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Panji looked around, confused.

    Vita smirked. ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t understand, do you? A lot has happened in this place since you¡¯ve been gone.¡± She took a sip of her drink.

    Chrome continued, ¡°Long story short, there¡¯s a mad scientist who sympathizes with the Redlight robots. He freed them, and now he¡¯s got an army of robots.¡±

    Panji burst into laughter. ¡°Oh, I get it now. This place never gets boring.¡±

    ¡°Of course! The average life expectancy here is thirty! We¡¯re all a bunch of old-timers!¡± Chrome joked.

    ¡°And that¡¯s not even mentioning the Iron Maidens,¡± Vita added, taking a swig from her water bottle. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ well, you¡¯ll see.¡±

    The gang continued riding, the landscape slowly changing from rocky desert to scrubland. They soon approached a roadside tavern, its parking lot packed with motorcycles. These bikes were different from the Valkyrie¡¯s choppers ¨C sleeker, faster-looking, with intricate paint jobs and custom modifications.

    ¡°Who are they?¡± Panji asked, eyeing the bikes suspiciously.

    ¡°Hellfire,¡± Chrome muttered, squinting at the emblem on the tavern¡¯s sign ¨C a stylized skull engulfed in flames. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re sharing breakfast with some pyromaniacs.¡±

    ¡°I want breakfast¡­¡± Vita said, her stomach growling.

    ¡°Alright, keep your attitude in check. We¡¯ve got a long journey ahead,¡± Panji cautioned as they dismounted. As they approached the roadside tavern, its parking lot packed with motorcycles, Panji noticed a couple of sleek bikes parked a short distance away, their chrome gleaming under the afternoon sun. The riders, clad in dark bodysuits, remained motionless, almost blending into the shadows. He couldn''t make out any insignia, but something about their posture, their stillness, made him uneasy. but he shrug it of. gang war is norm in red nation,

    Inside, the tavern was dimly lit and smoky, filled with the smell of stale beer and burnt grease. A group of riders in red and black vests sat at a table near the back, their eyes fixed on the newcomers. Panji ordered a coffee and a plate of whatever the cook was serving. As he took his first sip, a burly man with a scarred face and a Hellfire patch on his vest approached.

    ¡°Hey¡­ off to wander the wasteland, are we?¡± Hell, a burly man, sneered.

    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re not looking for trouble,¡± Panji said, taking a sip of his drink.

    ¡°Oh, is that so?¡± Hell spat on Panji¡¯s plate, causing the rest of the Valkyrie to stop eating, their eyes narrowing.

    ¡°Listen, big man. How about I give you $50,000 to walk away?¡± Panji suggested, trying to diffuse the situation.

    ¡°Ahhh, and what if we take your money and your bounty?¡± Hell retorted, his smirk widening.

    Panji¡¯s patience wore thin. ¡°Grrr¡­¡± He smashed the plate against Hell¡¯s face.

    ¡°Listen up, everyone!¡± Hell yelled, standing on a table. ¡°This guy¡¯s got a bounty of 50,000 credit !¡±

    ¡°FUCK!¡± Chrome roared as the tavern erupted into chaos. Tables overturned, chairs splintered, and fists flew. The air filled with the clang of metal on metal and the satisfying thud of bodies hitting the floor. It was a full-blown bar brawl, and the Valkyrie were right in the thick of it.

    Later, outside the Bar, chrome hold panji and help him walk outside. they all heavy bruised from brawl

    Chrome glared at Panji. ¡°You said to keep our attitude in check? My ass!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, well¡­¡± they pushed through the crowd to exit, but a couple of women in bodysuits greeted them outside.

    ¡°Bonjour¡­¡±a leader of group, maid, woman with brown wavy hair greet him

    ¡°Wait, let me guess: you¡¯re Iron Maiden, right?¡± Panji adjusted his shades.

    ¡°We¡¯re not here to hunt you. We¡¯re here to escort you to our Lord,¡± one maid said nonchalantly.

    ¡°What if we refuse?¡± Panji asked, crossing his arms.

    ¡°You might have to walk to your destination, as¡­¡± she pointed at their broken bikes, ¡°they won¡¯t take you anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Fak. Is this your doing?¡± Panji asked, incredulous.

    ¡°No. While you were partying inside, someone else did that,¡± she replied, rolling her eyes. ¡°So, hop on. Hellfire will be here soon.¡±

    panji squint, and lower his red shade, thinking. these woman might had hidden camera all over the places

    Panji exchanged glances with the others, then nodded. ¡°Alright, we don¡¯t have a choice. Move to the back, ladies.¡±

    ¡°Hell no. This is our bike, and you¡¯re just passengers. Chop chop, time¡¯s ticking,¡± she said, insisting.

    ¡°Fine, boys, swallow your pride,¡± Panji said reluctantly.

    ¡°Only you, Panji,¡± Chrome replied with a laugh as the rest of the Valkyrie climbed onto the Iron Maidens¡¯ motorcycles.

    ¡°Ugh¡­¡± Panji sighed, then suddenly, Hell reappeared from the bar.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going anywhere!¡± he shouted, drawing a gun.

    ¡°Hop in!¡± the maid yelled, and Panji jumped on just as they sped away from the tavern.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Panji yelled over the roar of the engines.

    ¡°Mansion,¡± the maid replied, her voice steady.

    ¡°Alright¡­ who are you, and what do you know?¡± Panji pressed.

    ¡°Not the time for chit-chat. We have many eyes watching,¡± she said, glancing back.

    As if summoned by her words, a roar of engines echoed behind them. A group of riders in crimson and black vests ¨C the Hellriders ¨C swerved into view, cutting them off.

    ¡°Hey! Wait a minute¡­ Iron Maiden is riding with outsiders!¡± Hell shouted.

    the man Panji had clashed with earlier.go outside of tavern, He pointed a greasy finger at Panji. ¡°That¡¯s him! The one with the bounty!¡±

    ¡°Fuck! That¡¯s them! Chase them!¡± another Hellrider yelled while raise his chain on motorbike

    ¡°YEAH! Time to work, guys!¡± they cheered as they revved their engines.

    She turned to Panji, her expression hardening. ¡°I need you at the mansion. Now. But I can¡¯t afford any more delays.¡± She pulled a submachine gun from beneath her coat and tossed it to Panji. "Make sure they can''t follow."

    Panji caught the gun, surprised. ¡°You want us to¡­?¡±

    ¡°Disable their bikes. Tires only. No unnecessary casualties. Understood?¡± Her tone left no room for argument.

    ¡°You heard me. If you do, I¡¯ll throw you and your dirty gang off the bikes,¡± she warned.

    ¡°Alright¡­¡± Panji signaled to the Valkyrie. ¡°NO BLOOD!¡±

    ¡°Ha! Tell that to yourself, buddy. You¡¯re the most psychopathic of us all!¡± Chrome laughed, adrenaline pumping.

    ¡°Shoot their tires,¡± she instructed.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Panji nodded, signaling the Valkyrie. ¡°Wheels on fire!¡±

    ¡°Did you hear that, boys?¡± Chrome grinned, A brief but intense firefight ensued. Panji and the Valkyrie focused their fire on the Hellriders¡¯ tires, expertly disabling their bikes without causing serious injuries. The Hellriders, caught off guard by the sudden aggression, scrambled for cover.

    Panji looked back, seeing the Hellriders struggling to keep their bikes upright. ¡°I think they¡¯re out¡­¡±

    ¡°Good. Take the forest path,¡± the maid instructed, Once the Hellriders were effectively neutralized, the maid nodded to her own riders. ¡°Let¡¯s move.¡± She led them off the main road, taking a winding path into the dense forest.

    The ride through the forest was rough, the bikes bouncing over rocks and roots. Panji gripped the sides of the bike tightly, wincing as they hit a particularly large bump.

    ¡°Wow! Isn¡¯t there a smoother way?¡± Panji asked,

    ¡°Shut up,¡± she replied curtly, her focus unwavering.

    ¡°Women¡­¡± he muttered under his breath.

    The maid didn¡¯t respond, her eyes fixed on the path ahead.

    Finally, they emerged into a clearing, revealing a sprawling mansion nestled among the trees. The maid dismounted, turning to the Valkyrie

    . ¡°Alright, when was the last time you all showered?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ about three days ago,¡± Panji admitted sheepishly.

    She sighed dramatically. ¡°Go wash up before meeting the Lord.¡±

    ¡°Wow¡­ you¡¯re not my mother,¡± Chrome shot back, crossing his arms.

    ¡°And I wouldn¡¯t want to have children like you,¡± she quipped, rolling her eyes.

    Vita stretched, her eyes gleaming with mischief. ¡°Come on, boys. Are we a bunch of cats?¡± She yawned and added, ¡°Can I borrow a towel too?¡±

    ¡°Ah, of course, darling¡­ I¡¯m genuinely surprised to see a woman in your gang,¡± the maid replied, raising an eyebrow.

    The Valkyrie members exchanged glances, a realization dawning on them.

    ¡°Just like us,¡± Panji said, ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ve seen a gang that¡¯s all women¡­¡±

    The maid yawned again. ¡°Chop chop. The Lord wants to meet you soon. Move your dirty backsides to the showers.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Panji replied, heading inside with the rest.

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Panji replied, heading inside with the rest.

    A short time later, the Valkyrie emerged, smelling marginally less offensive. The maid, now looking crisper in a clean uniform, though still maintaining a casual demeanor, waved them down a hallway. ¡°Alright, follow me. And try not to touch anything expensive.¡±

    As they reached a heavy oak door, she stopped. ¡°Only two of you can enter,¡± she then hold the golden door knob. ¡°I don¡¯t want the air inside contaminated.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Chrome protested.

    ¡°Alright, three. I¡¯ll go as the leader, Vita as the secretary, and Chrome as the general,¡± Panji declared, firm in his decision.

    The maid raised an eyebrow. ¡°You have a structure here? Interesting¡­ Very well, you may enter.¡±

    later after passing the long hall with red wall. they stepped into a large bedroom where an old man with long white hair lay on a lavish bed. He propped himself up as they entered.

    The maid bowed slightly. ¡°These are your guests, my Lord.¡±

    ¡°Please, come in,¡± he beckoned them, his voice gravelly yet commanding.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s skip the pleasantries. What do you want?¡± Panji asked, cutting straight to the chase.

    The old man smiled faintly, slowly rising to walk toward a small dining table in the room. ¡°Before I tell you my mission, may I share the history of this place?¡±

    ¡°Fine, but I hope it¡¯s not boring,¡± Panji replied, taking a seat. The others followed suit.

    The Lord sighed heavily. ¡°This was once part of the Free World¡ªa Golden Mansion. Do you know what that means, boy?¡±

    ¡°I know the Golden Mansion. It was a place where nobles and politicians indulged in all their¡­ high-class pleasures. And please don¡¯t call me ¡®boy¡¯; my name is Panji.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Panji¡­ After we became part of the Free World, all the women who were not sterile were sent to the farms, including my mother, the owner of this place. As the sole heir, I inherited it, but as you can see, nobody uses our services anymore. Now, we¡¯re merely a gang hiding in a forgotten forest.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ and what¡¯s that got to do with us?¡± Panji asked, leaning forward.

    ¡°I dislike the Free World,¡± the Lord stated bluntly.

    ¡°Hey, aren¡¯t we all in agreement on that?¡± Panji replied, crossing his arms.

    ¡°Yes, but you¡¯re the one daring enough to start something,¡± the Lord continued, his gaze piercing. ¡°You have a rebellious spirit greater than any of us.¡±

    Panji rubbed his face, unsure how to respond. ¡°Um¡­ thanks?¡±

    ¡°Now, what do you want?¡± the Lord pressed.

    ¡°From your direction, I gather you¡¯re heading west. Are you looking to go to the capital?¡±

    ¡°Alright¡­¡± Panji hesitated. ¡°It feels like we¡¯re being cornered by the media through the TV, and their headquarters is in California.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see. But does that mean all the news is a lie?¡± the Lord asked, his curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Um¡­ it¡¯s half the truth, I guess¡­¡± Panji replied, his brow furrowing.

    ¡°Ah, well, it¡¯s okay if you¡¯re only half a rebel. I might be able to help you. It¡¯s unfortunate if everything you do is merely a concoction of what¡¯s on TV. But I have a feeling I can utilize you.¡±

    ¡°Huh? You¡¯re pretty bold to say that to our faces,¡± Panji said, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Of course, but that makes it easier for me to be trusted, doesn¡¯t it?¡± the Lord countered, a sly smile creeping onto his face.

    ¡°Understandable. What do you want from helping us? You don¡¯t seem like the type who needs money,¡± Panji noted.

    ¡°Mhm¡­ I¡¯m sure there are plenty of gangs that will oppose you on your journey here. But there will also be many who sympathize with you. I want you to become an icon for them,¡± the Lord declared.

    ¡°An icon?¡± Panji echoed, skepticism evident in his voice. ¡°And how am I supposed to do that?¡±

    ¡°Icon? Yes¡­ that¡¯s the right word to describe it. I want you to appear in the capital. This doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ll create chaos there. Your mission is simple: let the people see you,¡± the Lord explained, his tone serious.

    ¡°See me? What for?¡± Panji asked, confused.

    ¡°To ignite hope among the people,¡± the Lord said, leaning closer. ¡°You¡¯re the spark they need, Panji. You can be the catalyst for change.¡±

    The Lord¡¯s smile widened. ¡°You¡¯ll have my support, and I can provide resources for your journey. Together, we can disrupt this so-called Free World.¡±

    Panji took a deep breath, the gravity of their situation sinking in. ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s see where this leads us. But know this: if your intentions aren¡¯t pure, I¡¯ll bring my gang against you.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± the Lord replied, nodding his head in agreement. ¡°Welcome to the beginning of a revolution, Panji.¡±

 Chapter 19 Wind up mansion

    The rest of the Valkyrie sprawled across plush red velvet couches in the mansion¡¯s lounge. Gold trim lined the walls, creating an atmosphere of opulent decay. A half-empty bottle of amber liquor sat on a low table, testament to their earlier revelry.

    One of the Valkyrie, his eyes glazed over, hiccuped. ¡°So, these¡­ ¡®windup girls¡¯¡­¡± he slurred. ¡°What¡¯s the deal?¡±

    Another biker, slightly more sober, rolled his eyes. ¡°You know. The ones they turn into¡­ like, robot maids and stuff. For the rich folks.¡±

    ¡°Right, right,¡± the first biker mumbled, nodding slowly. ¡°Human minds¡­ robot bodies¡­ drugs to keep ¡®em happy.¡±

    Behind the partially open door, one of the maids exchanged a knowing glance with another. ¡°They¡¯re letting loose,¡± she murmured. ¡°The Lord won¡¯t be pleased if they damage anything.¡±

    Later that evening, after the Valkyrie had finally passed out, the maids quietly cleared the lounge, removing the empty bottles and straightening the cushions.

    The next morning, Panji woke with a pounding headache. He groaned, clutching his head.

    Vita, already dressed, looked down at him with a mixture of concern and amusement. ¡°Rough night?¡±

    ¡°You could say that,¡± Panji mumbled, pushing himself up. ¡°What time is it?¡±

    ¡°Time to move,¡± Vita said, gesturing towards the window. Outside, the Lord stood beside a rugged, military-grade Jeep, several Iron Maidens standing nearby, their motorcycles gleaming in the morning sun.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Panji replied, appreciating the gesture.

    ¡°Oh, and some Iron Maidens will be joining you,¡± he added.

    ¡°Hey, handsome¡­ I hope we¡¯re not too much trouble for you,¡± one of the maidens teased, winking at Panji.

    Chrome chuckled, ¡°Heh! Not a problem at all¡­ we could use some women around here. I can¡¯t remember the last time we had any in our gang.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Vita shot a glare at Chrome, crossing her arms.

    ¡°But don¡¯t get it twisted,¡± the maid said, her tone serious. ¡°We¡¯re not here to be your lapdogs. We¡¯ll be weapons in the fight.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I like strong women,¡± Chrome replied, his grin widening.

    ¡°Ehem! Alright, let¡¯s get going,¡± Panji interjected, trying to bring order to the conversation.

    ¡°Oh, one more thing,¡± the Lord said, his expression turning grave. ¡°There are hippies living in the mountains before you reach Los Angeles. They¡¯re allies of sorts. They possess a rebellious spirit like yours. Just show your face, and they¡¯ll know what to do. May God¡¯s grace be with you.¡±

    ¡°Sure¡­ you too. Valkyrie Maidens, let¡¯s roll!¡± Panji shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

    after Long pause. no one reply him

    ¡°Come on! Valkyrie + Iron Maiden¡­ Valkyrie Maiden! Get it?¡± he added, trying to rally the group.

    Chrome laughed. ¡°Haha! Sure, genius. A 100% original name.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you! Valkyrie Maiden! Let¡¯s roooooollll!¡± Panji shouted, leading the charge.

    Later, on the Road

    ¡°Hey, I really don¡¯t like the name Valkyrie Maiden,¡± one of the Iron Maidens said, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Yeah, me neither,¡± Chrome agreed, glancing sideways at Panji.

    ¡°Come on¡­¡± Panji protested.

    ¡°I also don¡¯t like it,¡± Vita chimed in, her voice firm.

    ¡°Really? You too? Alright then, what¡¯s on your minds?¡± Panji asked, frustrated.

    ¡°What if we called ourselves Red Summer, after the name of the mansion we joined?¡± the maid suggested.

    ¡°Red Summer isn¡¯t a bad name, but it lacks vibe,¡± Panji replied thoughtfully.

    ¡°I see what you mean,¡± the maid said, nodding.

    ¡°How about¡­ Maiden of Iron?¡± Vita proposed.

    Both the maid and Panji shook their heads in unison. ¡°NO.¡±

    ¡°Justice!¡± Chrome shouted.

    ¡°Huh? Justice?¡± Panji raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a bad name,¡± the maid admitted, considering it.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ a bit ironic, but it has a nice ring to it,¡± Chrome added, grinning.

    ¡°Fine! We¡¯ll name our new group Justice!¡± Panji declared, feeling a surge of excitement.

    Later, in the Joshua Desert, after a particularly bumpy ride

    ¡°Look at those trees!¡± Chrome exclaimed, pointing excitedly. ¡°They¡¯re so unique.¡±

    ¡°Of course. The hippies usually hang around here. We can head up that mountain for a better view,¡± the maid suggested.

    ¡°Hey, that was my line,¡± Panji remarked, crossing his arms. ¡°But okay, let¡¯s go to the mountain.¡±

    ¡°HA! What¡¯s wrong, macho man? Don¡¯t like it when a woman tells you what to do?¡± she teased.

    ¡°Listen, we might need a leader selection,¡± Panji said, trying to maintain his authority.

    ¡°What are you talking about? It¡¯s clear you¡¯re the leader¡­ in Justice,¡± she countered.

    ¡°Ah, yeah¡­ sorry. My head has been hurting lately¡­¡± Panji admitted, rubbing his temples again.

    ¡°Of course,¡± the maid replied, her tone softening.

    then in The road to the mountain is a bit extreme. It¡¯s better if we send some people ahead on bikes,¡± the maid suggested.

    ¡°Sure! Your bikes suit the rough terrain. From now on, you¡¯ll be our scouts,¡± Panji said, nodding in approval.

    ¡°Were you in the military?¡± the maid asked, her curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Yeah, but please¡­ can I borrow your bike this time?¡± Panji requested, a hint of desperation in his voice.

    ¡°Alright, General,¡± she teased, switching to the passenger seat. ¡°Here.¡±

    ¡°Ahh, thanks!¡± Panji replied, revving the engine as they set off.

    As they navigated the rocky path, trees suddenly fell, blocking their way. A group of people emerged from behind the rocks, armed with guns, arrows, and spears.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Hey, riders! What are you doing here? Are you here to expand? Hehe¡­ eat sand!¡± one of the hippies taunted.

    ¡°Not at all, man. Don¡¯t you know who I am?¡± Panji asked, trying to keep his cool.

    ¡°Who are you? Michael Jackson?¡± the hippie shot back, his tone mocking.

    Panji sighed, feeling exasperated. ¡°You¡¯ve never watched TV, have you?¡±

    ¡°Only crazy people watch TV¡­¡± the hippie replied dismissively.

    ¡°Red Summer¡­¡± the maid interjected, hoping to smooth things over.

    ¡°Ohhh¡­ I get it. Iron Maiden. What do you want?¡± the hippie asked, his demeanor shifting slightly.

    The maid quickly explained their situation.

    ¡°Mhm¡­ it¡¯s probably better if you head to the fort and meet Eden,¡± the hippie suggested.

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± the maid replied, nodding.

    As they rode back onto the main path, they encountered a massive rock blocking the way.

    ¡°What is this? A secret door?¡± Panji wondered aloud.

    ¡°Of course. Say the magic words,¡± the hippie smirked.

    ¡°With God¡¯s grace?¡± Panji offered, unsure.

    ¡°Eeeee¡­ yeah, that works. But I want something more fitting for a heathen,¡± the hippie replied, grinning.

    ¡°Stop messing around¡­¡± Panji said, growing impatient.

    ¡°Wow, fine¡­ look at this¡­ ¡®abra kadabra!¡¯¡± the hippie exclaimed dramatically.

    Suddenly, the rock began to shift, sliding aside to reveal a hidden passageway leading to a tunnel.

    ¡°Very original¡­¡± Panji muttered sarcastically as they entered.

    They emerged into a stunning valley filled with lush greenery and a bustling encampment.

    ¡°Welcome to EDEN!¡± the hippie announced, spreading his arms wide.

    As they stepped into this new world, Panji felt a rush of excitement mixed with uncertainty. Surrounded by the raw beauty of the valley and the promise of rebellion, he knew they were stepping into something bigger than themselves. They were not just a gang anymore; they were about to become a force to be reckoned with.

    The sun hung low over the valley as the hippie turned to the group. ¡°I¡¯ll let Eden know you¡¯re here. You can look around for a bit, but hey¡­ don¡¯t cause any trouble,¡± he warned, smirking.

    After a quick scroll through the encampment, the Justice gang finally met Eden, an old woman with a wise face and a spirit that seemed to radiate strength.

    ¡°Hallo, children,¡± she greeted, her voice warm but firm. ¡°We¡¯ve heard your tale. It¡¯s been a long time since we connected with the outside world. Ironically, our spirits are free, yet we are trapped by the system. That¡¯s why we settled here.¡±

    Eden paused, her eyes glinting with a rebellious fire. ¡°But your story inspires us. Perhaps it¡¯s time for the Free World to recognize the path of freedom¡­ through violence. Bring some of our brave warriors with you. Let them taste victory!¡±

    Panji¡¯s heart raced. ¡°Wow, of course, but may I ask something? What¡¯s your connection to the Lord at Red Summer Mansion?¡±

    Eden chuckled, a sound that echoed with unspoken history. ¡°Ahh, dear. That¡¯s a tale for another time¡­ Until we meet again.¡± She reached into her robes and handed Panji a bracelet. ¡°Give this to the Lord.¡±

    Later, Panji wandered through the encampment, stopping at a marijuana greenhouse. The pungent aroma filled the air, making him grin.

    ¡°Uhh¡­ it smells so strong,¡± Vita remarked, wrinkling her nose.

    ¡°Can I?¡± Panji asked, eyeing the plants with a mischievous sparkle.

    ¡°This is for health reasons, of course,¡± she replied with a wink. ¡°It¡¯ll help with our cancer rates!¡± She playfully punched Panji on the shoulder.

    ¡°Sure¡­ health,¡± he chuckled, feeling lighter even as they prepared for their next move.

    Day later, as evening fell, they gathered around a bonfire. The hippies began a wild dance, chanting in unison.

    ¡°HU! HU! HU! AHHH!! For the warriors¡­ for justice! To the gates of NIRVANA!!!¡±

    The Justice gang exchanged bewildered glances, unsure how to react.

    ¡°Culture¡­¡± one of the Iron Maidens said, nodding slowly.

    They all nodded in agreement, still trying to make sense of the scene before them.

    The Next Morning, As they prepared to leave Eden, a hippie approached Panji. ¡°Will you hold this honor?¡± he asked, offering a ceremonial stone.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Panji sighed, rolling his eyes. ¡°Abracadabra¡­¡±

    Suddenly, the rock began to seal the entrance behind them.

    ¡°Why are the words to open and close the same?¡± Panji asked, confusion clouding his thoughts.

    ¡°Hey, this isn¡¯t Aladdin!¡± the hippie shot back, laughing.

    ¡°Understandable¡­¡± Panji muttered, shaking his head.

    ¡°Of course. Say the magic words,¡± the hippie smirked. He walked over to a nearby bush and pulled back some vines, revealing a small, rusty lever hidden beneath. With a grunt, he pulled the lever down. A low rumble echoed through the valley as the rock began to slide aside,

    ¡°Very original¡­¡± Panji muttered, but he couldn¡¯t deny the impressive effect.

    Later, as they prepared to depart, the maid spoke up. ¡°I can send one of the maidens to deliver the bracelet to the Lord.¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯ll do it myself when we return from California,¡± Panji insisted.

    ¡°Very well, amigo,¡± the maid replied with a nod.

    With that, Justice rolled out onto the highway, a convoy of jeeps, motorcycles, and hippie vans rolling together in a display of unity.

    At a small town, the day began quietly, with just a few folks stirring. A single windup girl swept the store, her movements mechanical yet graceful. Suddenly, the calm shattered as Panji''s convoy rolled in, kicking up dust and excitement. The windup girl paused, her stoic expression shifting as she spotted the maid among the newcomers.

    ¡°Ahh, sister!¡± she exclaimed, lighting up and waving enthusiastically.

    The maid, removing her bike helmet to reveal her wavy brown hair, rushed forward and embraced the windup girl. In that moment, a sense of unity blossomed among the windup girls, a bond forged in shared experiences.

    As the convoy came to a halt to gather supplies, a shopkeeper looked up, his face breaking into a wide grin. ¡°Hey, I know you! You¡¯re the one from TV!¡±

    Panji lowered his red shades, a smirk playing on his lips. ¡°Of course. You¡¯re not going to raise the prices, are you?¡±

    ¡°Hell no! I¡¯ll even give you a discount!¡± the shopkeeper exclaimed, excitement bubbling in his voice.

    ¡°Thanks!¡± Panji replied, feeling a swell of gratitude.

    ¡°Are you heading to LA?¡± the shopkeeper asked, curiosity glinting in his eyes.

    ¡°Yeah, I want to teach a lesson to whoever made that mess,¡± Panji said, pointing at the TV. ¡°A rebel group spotted in the desert!¡±

    The shopkeeper nodded vigorously. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan after LA?¡±

    ¡°Maybe smash a few monitors?¡± Panji suggested, his tone light and playful.

    ¡°What about Zion¡¯s army?¡± the shopkeeper pressed, concern creeping into his voice.

    ¡°Not sure¡­ I haven¡¯t thought that far ahead,¡± Panji admitted, the weight of uncertainty settling in.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re really reckless, huh? But you¡¯ll be a hero someday. We still hold a grudge against Zion here,¡± the shopkeeper said, determination shining in his eyes.

    Later after resupply, the Justice convoy approached a bridge and spotted some children playing nearby.

    ¡°stay away boys!,! Justice arrive!¡± the maid called out.

    But as the lead convoy began to cross the bridge, a sudden explosion rocked the structure. Most of the bridge remained intact, but several vehicles plummeted over the edge.

    ¡°Fuck! What¡¯s happening?!¡± Panji shouted, his heart racing.

    ¡°The kids!¡± the maid yelled, panic rising in her voice as they realized the front of the convoy was now isolated from the rest.

    ¡°Hey, Panji! Vita fell into the river!¡± Chrome¡¯s voice crackled over the radio, urgency lacing his words.

    ¡°WHAT?!¡± Panic surged through Panji as he looked toward the swirling water below.

    ¡°VITA!¡± Panji screamed, his voice raw with panic. He scrambled to the edge of the bridge, his breath catching in his throat. The river churned below, a maelstrom of debris and swirling currents. He strained his eyes, searching for any sign of her, but only saw the twisted wreckage of vehicles disappearing beneath the surface. His stomach twisted into a knot of dread. He gripped the crumbling edge of the bridge, his knuckles white, the world suddenly feeling cold and empty. He didn''t hear the hippie approach until a hand touched his shoulder.

    ¡°Listen,¡± the hippie said, his voice steady. ¡°We can join the others after they take an alternate route. It¡¯ll take half a day or maybe even two days¡­ assuming the other routes aren¡¯t controlled by another gang.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s check on those kids first,¡± he suggested, his voice firm.

    ¡°Sure. They ran off that way,¡± the maid replied, pointing down a narrow path.

    The hippie gave a signal to the convoy on the other side. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go.¡±

    With the rest of the convoy beginning to turn around in search of an alternate road, only five members of Justice remained with Panji as they started to follow the trail left by the children.

    ¡°Maybe Vita is still safe¡­¡± Panji muttered, a flicker of hope in his heart.

    ¡°I hope so too,¡± the maid said quietly.

    ¡°Sorry to ruin the mood, guys,¡± the hippie chimed in, ¡°but I didn¡¯t see Vita come up to the surface after she fell¡­¡±

    After a while, they stumbled upon a small camp near the river.

    ¡°This might be where the kids are hiding,¡± the maid suggested, scanning the area.

    ¡°Are we going to do this?¡± the hippie asked, drawing his pistol.

    The rest of the gang looked at Panji for direction.

    ¡°Uh¡­ let¡¯s try to catch the kids first. We don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on yet,¡± Panji decided.

    ¡°Of course,¡± the maid agreed, her hand hovering near her weapon.

    ¡°Look! There¡¯s a small path leading down the cliff,¡± Panji pointed out.

    They crept closer to the camp. Suddenly, a few children bolted in fear, but then cautiously peeked out from their tents.

    ¡°Hello, kids¡­ did you blow up that bridge? Come on, tell us!¡± the maid called out, starting to remove her belt.

    ¡°Uh¡­ what were you doing up there?¡± Panji asked, trying to maintain a firm tone.

    ¡°Stay back!¡± one of the boys shouted, pulling out a knife.

    ¡°Rick, don¡¯t¡­¡± another boy urged.

    Panji stepped forward, exasperated. He slapped the boy¡¯s arm away, forcing the knife down. ¡°Move aside, kid¡­¡±

    The gang searched the camp but found nothing of interest.

    Some of the boys began to cry, fear etched on their faces.

    ¡°Listen, what were you doing up on that bridge?¡± Panji pressed, kneeling down to meet their eyes.

    The hippie rubbed his head in frustration.

    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s this?¡± Panji asked, grabbing a necklace from one of the boys.

    ¡°Don¡¯t! Give that back!¡± the boy shouted, desperation in his voice.

    Panji examined the necklace, which contained a small insect robot tied together with string. ¡°Where did you get this?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s none of your business!¡± the boy shot back defiantly.

    Panji felt anger bubbling within him, but he caught himself and took a deep breath.

    After a heavy sigh, he pulled out a few bills and handed them to the boy. ¡°Sorry for messing up your tent, kids.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t need your money!¡± the boy yelled, throwing the bills back at Panji¡¯s face. ¡°That money is useless here! They¡¯ll just rob us!¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Panji paused, taken aback. A long silence hung between them.

    ¡°So, that¡¯s how it is¡­¡± he said finally. ¡°Can you at least talk about what you did on the bridge?¡±

    Another long pause followed.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t working, Panji. How about I show them how Eden taught me?¡± the hippie suggested, stepping forward.

    ¡°Don''t!¡± Panji cautioned, raising a hand.

    ¡°Let me handle this,¡± the maid insisted, her voice determined.

    ¡°Not you too!¡± Panji exclaimed, exasperated.

    ¡°Hmmph,¡± she pouted, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Do you guys have any food?¡± Panji asked, trying to steer the conversation back to something productive.

    The maid looked around the tents. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything here¡­¡±

    ¡°Alright then¡­¡± Panji said, pulling out an axe.

    ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re a cannibal now? That explains a lot,¡± the maid shot back sarcastically.

    ¡°Not stupid¡­¡± Panji retorted, beginning to chop down small trees. ¡°I¡¯m trying to make a fish trap.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a vegan, so I have no clue what you¡¯re doing,¡± the hippie replied, scratching his head.

    Panji finished setting the trap on the riverbank. ¡°Well, if we¡¯re lucky, we¡¯ll catch something. Meanwhile¡­¡± He drew his pistol. ¡°We can go hunting. Come on, kids!¡±

    The boys hesitated, still fearful but less scared than before.

    ¡°Come on¡­¡± Panji urged.

    Hours later, Panji returned with a rabbit in hand, his face triumphant. ¡°Listen, use your knife to skin this. Can you do that?¡± He tossed the rabbit toward the nearest boy.

    The boy looked at the rabbit with wide eyes, reluctant at first, but then slowly began to skin the animal under Panji''s watchful gaze.

    ¡°Hey, why are you all just standing there staring at me? Fix your tents!¡± Panji commanded.

    ¡°Oh, right¡­¡± the hippie murmured, moving to help.

    After a while, they began cooking the rabbit over a small fire.

    ¡°Alright, boys¡­ who told you to blow up the bridge?¡± Panji asked, his tone softer now. ¡°I¡¯m not angry. I know you were forced to do it.¡±

    ¡°We didn¡¯t know it was a bomb! Someone told us to put it on the bridge before you arrived,¡± one of the boys admitted, his voice quivering.

    ¡°Who told you?¡± the maid demanded, her eyes narrowing.

    ¡°Some guy from the next town over¡­ He threatened us¡­¡± the boy said, looking down. ¡°We used to steal for him, and now¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see¡­¡± Panji said, understanding dawning on him. ¡°So you have to follow all his orders now?¡±

    The boys nodded, looking defeated.

    ¡°Who is this guy?¡± Panji pressed.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know his name, but there¡¯s a man with a cowboy hat who lives on the upper floor of the bank,¡± the boy replied, glancing nervously at the maid.

    Panji clenched his jaw, determination hardening in his gaze. ¡°We¡¯ll find him. And when we do, he¡¯ll pay for what he¡¯s done.¡±

    ¡°Ahh, I understand now¡­ alright, Justice. We know who¡¯s causing the trouble,¡± Panji declared, determination igniting in his eyes.

 Chapter 20 Street kid

    ¡°About time. If you had let me question them, it might have taken less than fifteen minutes. But hey, congratulations¡ªyou remind me of a hero from the comics,¡± the maid teased.

    ¡°Wait, really? How does the hero in your comic end?¡± Panji asked, genuinely curious.

    ¡°Eeee¡­ um¡­ he dies,¡± she replied, a sheepish grin spreading across her face.

    Panji chuckled, a chill running down his spine despite himself. Panji thought, "Funny how stories always end the same way. One way or another, someone always pays the price."

    Later, as they approached the sign for a nearby town, the usual Red Nation propaganda blared from large monitor ¨C extolling the virtues of military service and the glory of the arena.

    ¡°This place looks pretty lively,¡± the hippie said, his eyes scanning the bustling streets.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go say hello to that cowboy,¡± Panji suggested, a glimmer of mischief quickly fading as he considered the situation.

    ¡°MOVE!¡± the maid interjected. ¡°There are too many macho types. Five of us against a whole town?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. What are you thinking? We can wait for the convoy, or we can do this alone,¡± Panji replied, weighing their options.

    ¡°Let me tell you how it¡¯s done. We wait until nightfall and send the kids to scout,¡± the maid proposed, a glint of cunning in her eyes.

    ¡°Using the kids? You¡¯re pretty sneaky¡­¡± the hippie remarked.

    ¡°Hey, we¡¯re at war now,¡± she shot back, her voice steely.

    ¡°If we use the kids, we¡¯re no better than them,¡± Panji countered firmly.

    ¡°Huh? What are you talking about? I¡¯ve heard Chrome¡¯s stories about you. You¡¯re too good for your own good. Do you want the truth, Panji? We¡¯re all bad here. The reason you¡¯re here is because you like it,¡± she said, crossing her arms defiantly.

    Panji lowered his shades, contemplating her words. ¡°I won¡¯t deny it, but relying on the kids as spies seems like a terrible idea. We¡¯ll attack under the cover of darkness. But not with the kids.¡±

    ¡°Sure, boss,¡± the maid replied, a smirk on her lips.

    At night, the gang stealthily approached a building in the town, scouting their surroundings.

    ¡°It¡¯s only six, but it looks like most of them are already asleep,¡± the hippie noted, peering through the shadows.

    ¡°Watch and learn,¡± the maid instructed, drawing her scythe with a flourish.

    ¡°Wait, aren¡¯t you a pacifist?¡± Panji asked, eyebrows raised.

    ¡°Yeah, when I¡¯m with the Iron Maidens. But here, in Justice, I can be myself. Hey¡­ your sins are now mine too,¡± she replied, a playful glint in her eyes.

    ¡°Understandable¡­¡± Panji muttered, shaking his head.

    Eventually, they found the bank.

    ¡°I think this is the only bank in town¡­¡± the hippie said, scanning the entrance.

    They executed a series of silent takedowns on the guards before breaking into the cowboy¡¯s office.

    ¡°HA! How did you get in here?¡± the man with cowboy exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock.

    Before he could react, the cowboy dashed for the window, escaping onto the rooftops. Panji and the gang pursued him, leaping from building to building, but the cowboy found himself cornered at the last rooftop.

    ¡°Whoa, whoa¡­ take it easy, man! Please¡­ I still want to live!¡± he pleaded, panic etched across his face.

    ¡°Of course. Are you working alone? If you tell me the truth, I might make this quick,¡± Panji said, drawing his axe menacingly.

    ¡°Ha! No! Please¡­¡± the cowboy whimpered, backing away from the edge.

    ¡°There¡¯s someone from the media¡­ they offered me money to sabotage the bridge¡­¡± he admitted, desperation creeping into his voice.

    ¡°Let me guess¡­ to send the convoy on another route?¡± the maid shot back, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Exactly! Please, spare me!¡± the cowboy begged, falling to his knees.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Panji pressed.

    ¡°The media has an alliance with a gang called Corp¡­ they¡¯re affiliated with mercenaries from the state!¡± the cowboy confessed, trembling.

    ¡°Interesting. Is that all?¡± Panji probed further.

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you the truth! Please!¡± the cowboy cried, tears welling in his eyes.

    Panji felt a surge of anger but paused, contemplating the situation.

    ¡°What about the kids you sent to plant bombs on the bridge?¡± Panji demanded.

    ¡°Oh¡­ please¡­¡± the cowboy stammered, fear gripping him.

    ¡°Wrong move,¡± Panji said, and with a swift kick, he sent the cowboy tumbling off the rooftop. The cowboy¡¯s body landed with a sickening thud on the ground below, drawing the attention of nearby civilians.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d chop him up first and then throw him down,¡± the maid laughed darkly.

    Some guards spotted Panji standing over the dead body but hesitated to confront him.

    Later, in the cowboy¡¯s office room, the hippie found something interesting.

    ¡°Hey, look at this!¡± he exclaimed, holding up a document.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Panji asked, leaning closer.

    ¡°It¡¯s the address for the Free World Media¡­ and I found some cash!¡± the hippie said, excitement bubbling in his voice.

    ¡°Good¡­ we¡¯re getting closer,¡± Panji replied, feeling a sense of purpose.

    Suddenly, a guard walked in,they armed with rifle, and they surprised to see Panji. ¡°Wow¡­ you really killed him, huh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Panji replied, crossing his arms.

    ¡°How did you pull off all that? A¡­ kung fu ninja move?¡± the guard asked, curiosity evident in his tone.

    ¡°I¡¯m just being myself. Listen, why was that cowboy able to control this town?¡± Panji inquired.

    ¡°Well, it all started when¡­¡± the guard began, launching into a long, tedious history.

    After what felt like an eternity, the maid sighed. ¡°Heh¡­ so, to sum it up, the cowboy was an investor, and he had rights to your property and then your bank. Can you skip all the boring details?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Panji said, rolling his eyes.

    ¡°Hey, do you know the kids near the bridge?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Of course. They¡¯re street kids who usually steal around here,¡± the guard replied.

    ¡°Hey, can you send them leftover food? There¡¯s plenty of wasted food in your dumpsters,¡± Panji suggested, his voice earnest.

    The guard looked taken aback. ¡°Sure, I can do that. But why do you care?¡±

    ¡°Because they deserve better,¡± Panji said, a fire igniting in his chest. ¡°We¡¯re not just fighting for ourselves; we¡¯re fighting for everyone who¡¯s been oppressed.¡±

    As the guard nodded in agreement, Panji felt a renewed sense of purpose. Justice wasn¡¯t just a name; it was a mission, a rallying cry for all those who yearned for freedom.

    And with each step forward, they would carve a path to liberation, one fight at a time.

    Later, they settled in the town before continuing their journey, gathering in the maid''s room.

    ¡°Hey, cowboy. Didn¡¯t I tell you this room is mine?¡± the maid teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

    Panji responded by playfully shoving a cowboy hat onto her head. ¡°Shut up¡­¡±

    ¡°Hihih¡­ you really don¡¯t care about Vita, do you?¡± she pressed, a knowing smile on her lips.

    Panji sighed, closing the door behind him. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand¡­¡±

    The next morning, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. they start rode again

    ¡°Women always seem to like long-haired guys who can play guitar,¡± the hippie mused, strumming absentmindedly.

    ¡°Not always. They usually go for the playboys,¡± the maid replied, taking a sip of her drink.

    ¡°Who¡¯s the Lord at Red Summer?¡± Panji asked, his curiosity piqued.

    ¡°He¡¯s my master¡­ isn¡¯t that clear?¡± she said, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°No, I mean the history behind him and his connection to Eden,¡± Panji clarified, pushing for more information.

    ¡°Ahhh, that comes at a price,¡± she teased, tapping her cheek.

    ¡°Sorry, my mouth is still busy,¡± he replied, stuffing a piece of bread into it.

    ¡°You missed¡­ well.. eden is her first maid.. but after zion arrive. he split the fertile one, well you the detail next.. so years later. farm changed eden.. and this two lover split because.. complicated matter¡±

    panji then munch munch. seems not really understand but nod to it

    Later on, the hippie approached Panji with concern. after not united with the rest of convoy ¡°How¡¯s it going with them, Panji?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ still no news,¡± he admitted, rubbing his forehead. ¡°I swear I can¡¯t think right now¡­¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we meet them at this crossroads?¡± the hippie suggested, pointing at the map.

    ¡°Good idea. We¡¯ll meet them faster that way¡­¡± Panji agreed, feeling a spark of hope.

    ¡°Yeah, but we¡¯ll have to pass through some tunnels under the mountain,¡± the hippie added, a hint of caution in his tone.

    Before they could set off, a boy approached them, holding out a fish.

    ¡°Hey, riders¡­¡± the boy said, offering it to Panji.

    ¡°Thanks! So you can catch fish now?¡± Panji asked, surprised.

    ¡°Of course!¡± the boy replied proudly.

    ¡°Good. Then¡­¡± Panji handed the boy the necklace he had taken earlier. ¡°Where did you get this?¡±

    ¡°Oh, this? It¡¯s just a pendant for luck. We usually find those little robot bugs by the river¡­ if you want it, take it,¡± he said, shrugging.

    Later, in the dark tunnel, Panji pondered aloud. ¡°I¡¯m thinking¡­ am I really helping them, or are they helping me?¡±

    ¡°Hey, just ask your heart, man,¡± the hippie said with a chuckle.

    ¡°Of course, the heart¡­ but if your heart is dark, you won¡¯t get anything,¡± the maid interjected, her laughter echoing ominously. ¡°Hhooh hohohoh¡­¡±

    They reached the end of the tunnel and were met with a barricade manned by soldiers and jeeps.

    ¡°Drop your weapons!¡± a soldier barked, raising his rifle.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Panji exclaimed, his heart racing.

    ¡°Die, government dog!¡± the hippie shouted, pulling out his gun. But before he could fire, the soldier shot him instantly.

    ¡°This is your last warning. Or you¡¯ll end up like your friend,¡± the soldier threatened, his eyes cold.

    ¡°Alright¡­¡± Panji said, his mind racing as he dropped his weapon and dismounted from his motorcycle.

    ¡°Good¡­ lie down. Hands behind your head. Now! Hurry up!¡± the soldier ordered.

    Panji complied, hitting the ground as the soldier approached to handcuff him. The rest of the gang followed suit, surrendering as fear gripped them. Just before the soldier pulled off Panji¡¯s mask, the last thing he saw was the maid¡¯s face, a mix of determination and concern etched into her features.

    In the dimly lit room, tension hung thick in the air.

    ¡°So, that¡¯s how it is,¡± Bartoleme said, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. ¡°I really don¡¯t know what to do with you.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ so you¡¯re here just to keep the town from rebelling?¡± Panji replied, his voice steady.

    ¡°Exactly. Now, what about Justice?¡± Bartoleme pressed, his gaze challenging.

    Panji took a deep breath, weighing his words. ¡°We¡¯re heading to Los Angeles to seek clarification from the Free World Media. Listen, man¡­ you can¡¯t intimidate me. I¡¯m going there, no matter what.¡±

    ¡°Soldiers don¡¯t play politics. Maybe I¡¯ll let you go,¡± Bartoleme shrugged, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

    ¡°Really? Cool¡­¡± Panji replied, a flicker of hope igniting within him.

    after long pause, Panji faced Bartoleme again. ¡°So if the explosion wasn¡¯t the army¡¯s doing, who was it?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. That¡¯s not my concern,¡± Bartoleme replied, a dismissive wave of his hand.

    Panji tilted his head, intrigued. ¡°Huh? Ahhh? Interesting¡­¡±

    ¡°Look, man. This isn¡¯t my town. I couldn¡¯t care less. My heart and eyes are only for Las Vegas,¡± Bartoleme said, shrugging off the implications.

    ¡°Understandable¡­¡± Panji replied, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fit together in his mind.

    He just encountered Bartoleme, one of Zion''s vassals. Panji found him pretty unprofessional, but hey, it worked in his favor. Bartoleme ended up freeing all the Justice members, giving them the green light to head to LA.

    On the road, the rest of Justice sped away from Bartoleme¡¯s roadblock, the wind whipping past them.

    ¡°Poor Hippie¡­ I was starting to like his glasses,¡± the maid said, her voice a bit somber.

    ¡°Hey, darling¡­ don¡¯t I wear glasses too?¡± Panji shot back, teasingly.

    ¡°Sorry, Panji, but his glasses just looked cooler to me,¡± she admitted with a light laugh.

    ¡°Understandable¡­¡± Panji replied, shaking his head with a smile.

    ¡°Eh¡­ not really. Maybe I liked his personality,¡± she confessed, her tone softening.

    ¡°Are you not going to cry, are you?¡± Panji teased, feeling his heart lighten.

    The maid sniffed, a small tear in her eye, but she quickly covered it with a playful pout. ¡°No¡­ not at all¡­¡±

    Later, the convoy finally united as they rolled into formation.

    ¡°Hey, Red Devil¡­ umm, I¡¯m still mourning for Vita,¡± Chrome said, his voice heavy with loss.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Panji replied, the weight of grief settling between them.

    ¡°But during the journey, I picked up some intel. We¡¯ve been frequently attacked by the Diablos gang,¡± Chrome continued, his tone serious.

    ¡°Why is that?¡± Panji asked, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Not sure¡­ besides the bounty, there¡¯s probably an ideological motive. Most of them used to be mercs, just like us¡± Chrome explained.

    ¡°Ohh¡­ I see. Were there many casualties?¡± Panji pressed, concern flickering in his eyes.

    ¡°Yeah, we lost a lot of good people. But you¡¯ve seen it yourself¡ªothers have joined Justice along the way,¡± Chrome said, trying to stay optimistic.

    ¡°Interesting¡­ what motivates these new recruits?¡± Panji inquired.

    ¡°Varied reasons. Some idolize you. Others have a grudge against the media, some just crackhead¡± Chrome replied.

    ¡°Right¡­ we don¡¯t have time to question them one by one. Los Angeles is close. Justice, let¡¯s roll!¡± Panji declared, revving his engine as the convoy surged forward.

    The convoy pressed westward, the setting sun casting long shadows across the desolate landscape. Wrecked vehicles and scattered debris littered the roadside, grim reminders of the wasteland''s harsh realities. They rode for what felt like hours, the landscape a monotonous blur of sand and broken asphalt.

    After they passed a particularly large stretch of debris¡ªa veritable junkyard stretching as far as the eye could see¡ªChrome pulled alongside Panji. ¡°Hold up,¡± he said, his voice tight. ¡°There¡¯s a wreck up ahead. Looks suspicious.¡±

    Panji squinted, spotting the twisted metal silhouette against the darkening sky. ¡°Diablos?¡±

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be surprised,¡± Chrome replied grimly. ¡°They¡¯ve been hitting us hard lately. We need to check it out.¡±

    Panji signaled the convoy to slow. He gestured to Flick, one of the newer recruits. ¡°Flick, go take a look. Be careful.¡±

    Flick cautiously approached the wreckage, his hand hovering near the pistol at his hip. He circled the vehicle, his eyes scanning the ground. He stopped abruptly, his breath catching in his throat. ¡°Guys¡­ get back! There¡¯s something under the hood!¡±

    Panji and Chrome exchanged a tense look and dismounted, approaching the wreckage cautiously. Flick pointed to a tangle of wires snaking out from under the hood, leading to a crude bomb strapped to the engine block. A small digital timer glowed red: 00:03:17.

    ¡°Diablos,¡± Chrome growled, his jaw tight. ¡°They¡¯re getting bolder.¡±

    A cold dread settled in Panji¡¯s stomach. Less than four minutes. This wasn''t some simple intimidation tactic; this was meant to kill. He glanced back at the others. Some of the Iron Maidens were huddled together, chanting softly in circle and their hands clasped. He noticed they were swallowing small pills. He rolled his eyes; it was probably the reason for their erratic behavior. A few of the other Justice members were nonchalantly playing cards nearby, seemingly oblivious to the danger. He gritted his teeth. This wasn¡¯t a goddamn party.

    ¡°Chrome, with me! Flick, keep watch!¡± Panji barked, his voice sharp and urgent. He grabbed a piece of scrap metal and began carefully trying to pry open the hood, while Chrome examined the wiring, searching for a way to disarm the device. The clock ticked down: 00:02:58. Every second felt like a lifetime.

 Chapter 21 For Justice

    Chapter 21 For Justice

    The Iron Maidens, their chanting complete, turned their attention to the bomb. The maid looked at Panji,.  ¡°so. why we lets just go away from the blast?¡±

    Panji shook his head, a mix of frustration and embarrassment washing over him. ¡°It¡¯ll destroy the road. Someone could come along later¡­¡±  panji trying to argue ¡°umm someone wil stumble!¡±

    maid roll her eyes ¡°alright.. sure.lets just forget if we are in middle of fucking ass desert.  just stack them on that ugly tricylce. ¡°She pointed to a nearby motorcycle with a sidecar¡± and hit the gas will rubber or something¡±

    Chrome, ever practical, had already hotwired the motorcycle and was fiddling with the throttle. ¡°Quick! Grab some rope or something!¡± He gestured to the sidecar

    Flick, surprisingly nimble for his size, carefully lifted the bomb and placed it in the sidecar, securing it with a length of thick rubber tubing and a tattered belt he found nearby. Chrome rigged the throttle, using a piece of wire to keep it wide open. The motorcycle sputtered to life, lurching forward and bumping across the uneven ground. One of the Justice members, who had been engrossed in a card game moments before, looked up, startled. ¡°Hey! That¡¯s my bike! And it¡¯s not a tricycle!¡± he yelled in protest.

    They watched as the motorcycle sped away across the desolate landscape, a small, dark silhouette against the vast desert horizon. Moments later, a blinding flash lit up the sky, followed by a deafening boom that sent tremors through the ground. A plume of smoke and dust billowed into the air, forming a mushroom cloud that quickly dissipated in the desert wind. The force of the blast sent a wave of heat and a cloud of dust washing over them.

    ¡°Damn,¡± Panji said, brushing sand from his face. ¡°That was bigger than I expected.¡±

    Meanwhile, in Canada, on a military train bound for the Bering Bridge, Nara, now an adult clad in a sleek bodysuit, she keep her long hair now. ,she flashed her documents at a soldier. After a quick glance, he waved her through.

    ¡°Welcome aboard. You¡¯re clear to use the military train,¡± he said, stepping aside.

    Hours later, the train screeched to a halt at the station. Nara stepped off and was greeted by a pale woman draped in a flowing white cloak.

    ¡°I¡¯m Siren. Are you the courier from Cross?¡± the woman inquired, her voice smooth yet chilling.

    ¡°Yeah. Here,¡± Nara replied, handing over her document.

    ¡°Ah, a change of route, it seems. What¡¯s your name?¡± Siren asked, studying her closely.

    ¡°Nara,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Huh? Fire? Well, Fire, I hope you¡¯re not too cold here,¡± Siren remarked, her tone laced with sarcasm.

    ¡°Heh. Actually¡­¡± Nara sneezed.

    Siren chuckled softly, then removed her cloak, revealing her pale skin. ¡°Here, wear this. Follow me.¡±

    They made their way to a warehouse filled with crates stacked high.

    ¡°You¡¯ll stay with us until the package is delivered. After that, you can return to Cross,¡± Siren stated, her voice devoid of warmth.

    ¡°Alright¡­ where is this going?¡± Nara asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

    Siren sighed, rolling her eyes. ¡°You ask too many questions. But a little curiosity might not kill you¡­ just torture you. This is headed to Los Angeles.¡±

    Later, they arrived at a harbor near the station. The crates were loaded onto a submarine.

    ¡°Express delivery¡­¡± Siren announced, her tone flat.

    ¡°Is this a government submarine?¡± Nara asked, eyebrows raised.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s La Buse¡­¡± Siren replied, her lips curling into a smirk.

    ¡°Pirate-owned? Isn¡¯t the Free World at war with pirates? How can that be?¡± Nara pressed, confusion washing over her.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I told you, Fire, you ask too many questions. Just help them load the boxes,¡± Siren instructed, shaking her head.

    After the crates were loaded, the crew began boarding the submarine, ready to set sail.

    On top of the submarine, Nara glanced around. ¡°Aren¡¯t we diving yet?¡±

    ¡°Not yet¡­¡± Siren replied, her gaze scanning the horizon.

    Later, a crew member shouted, ¡°Hey, woman! We¡¯re about to exit the jammer range. We¡¯ll dive soon!¡±

    ¡°Alright, Nara. Let¡¯s go inside,¡± Siren urged.

    Nara sneezed again, her body shivering in the chill of the northern wind. ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡¯m starting to get cold up here.¡±

    Inside the submarine, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Colorful anime posters adorned the walls, and figurines lined the shelves.

    ¡°Ahh¡­ cultured people¡­¡± Nara mused, a grin creeping onto her face.

    ¡°Hey! I heard that! One more comment like that, and I¡¯ll kick you out!¡± a crew member threatened, glaring at her.

    ¡°Humpf¡­¡± Nara retorted, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Quiet, everyone! I¡¯m tracking a patrol ship. They¡¯ll be passing over us soon,¡± another crew member commanded.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± someone asked, panic creeping into his voice.

    ¡°Stay silent and calm. Don¡¯t make a sound,¡± the tracker replied, his eyes locked on the sonar screen.

    On the sonar, the patrol ship drew nearer.

    ¡°They¡¯re almost here,¡± the tracker warned, tension thick in the air.

    The patrol ship passed directly above the submarine, the crew holding their breath.

    As the patrol ship moved on, the crew exhaled in relief.

    ¡°That was close,¡± one crew member remarked, wiping sweat from his brow.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep tracking that patrol ship. Let me know if they come back,¡± the tracker said, his focus unwavering.

    Later, Siren peered through the periscope, her expression shifting to one of anticipation. ¡°Ahh, you see that? Los Angeles.¡±

    As they prepared to surface, Nara felt the weight of their mission pressing down on her. The stakes were higher than ever, and the path ahead was fraught with danger.

    The submarine glided through the water, finally surfacing near a bustling harbor. As they emerged, Nara squinted against the bright sunlight, her heart racing with anticipation.

    ¡°This is it, Nara. You can go back to Cross now,¡± Siren said, handing her a small bundle of money. ¡°And use this to go to the salon.¡±

    Nara chuckled, tucking the money away. ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯ve never been to a salon.¡±

    Siren winked, her icy demeanor softening for a moment. ¡°You need to learn how to spend money when you¡¯re rich. And yes¡­ return my cloak.¡±

    Later on land, on the highway, Panji and the convoy cruised along the familiar stretch of the Red Highway.

    ¡°So, this is the Red Highway?¡± Panji mused, glancing around. ¡°It looks just like any other highway. No signs of battle¡­ but ever since we¡¯ve been on this road, I feel something¡­ cold.¡±

    ¡°Hoho! If you¡¯ve ever seen pictures of it, the asphalt here is all red. You can¡¯t even tell what¡¯s human and what¡¯s not,¡± Chrome replied, a grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°Oh, come on¡­ don¡¯t make me nauseous,¡± Panji groaned, shaking his head.

    As they approached the city, a roadblock came into view.

    ¡°Hey, let us through!¡± Panji called out, raising a hand.

    ¡°Are you planning a revolution in the city?¡± the guard questioned, his tone skeptical.

    ¡°No¡­ we just want answers,¡± Panji replied, his determination unwavering.

    ¡°Fine,¡± the guard relented, stepping aside. ¡°You can pass.¡±

    The convoy rolled through the city streets, more people flocking in to see what was happening.

    soon the tv helicopter is trail on them in sky

    ¡°Alright, here we go¡­¡± Panji muttered, but as they reached the entrance to the Free World Media building, they were met with a wall of Diablos gang members.

    ¡°You¡¯re not getting in,¡± one of the Diablos snarled, his eyes glaring.

    ¡°Oh yeah? I drove hundreds of kilometers just to turn back because of your mouth?¡± Panji shot back, defiance radiating from him.

    ¡°If it¡¯s not because of my mouth, it¡¯ll be because of this,¡± the gang member said, hurling a Molotov cocktail at the convoy.

    ¡°Ahh, so you like violence, huh? Congratulations, so do we!¡± Panji roared, and the Justice gang sprang into action, clashing with the Diablos.

    Meanwhile, inside a salon, Nara flipped through channels on a monitor, catching snippets of news.

    ¡°What the fuck?¡± she exclaimed, her eyes widening at the chaos unfolding in the city. ¡°Alright, where¡¯s the Free World office?¡±

    Determined, she set out, ready to find the answers she sought, her heart pounding with the thrill of the unknown.

    Back outside, the clash between Justice and the Diablos escalated, the sounds of battle echoing through the streets. Panji fought fiercely, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he pushed forward for justice, for answers, for a chance to reclaim their future.

    As the chaos unfolded, the stakes had never been higher, and the path ahead was fraught with danger. But for Panji and his crew, there was no turning back.

    After the clash on the street, Justice''s monstrous vehicle smashed through the glass doors of the Free World Media office, sending shards flying. The lobby erupted in chaos.

    ¡°Dead man!¡± Flame roared, hurling a Molotov cocktail at the monstercar. The flames engulfed it, igniting the passengers inside.

    Justice retaliated, shooting the sprinkler system, causing water to pour down and adding to the confusion. The fight escalated floor by floor, with the Diablos gang being pushed back toward the upper levels. As barricades were hastily constructed, both sides suffered heavy losses.

    ¡°We can¡¯t push any further!¡± Chrome shouted, ducking behind cover.

    ¡°I have an idea¡­¡± the maid replied, her eyes glinting with determination.

    then veronica tv presenter is trying do her job. then maid break in on top of building.

    ¡°hey. we are the justice gang. you wanna life interview? she said while other point their gun

    In a bold move, some Justice gang members stole a TV helicopter, using it to flank the Diablos and attack from another angle. A few managed to infiltrate the rooftop.

    pilot on gun point the squirm ¡°i dont pay enough for this¡± flick on pistol on his hand said ¡°you never¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve breached from the other side, Panji! We can send more people through there,¡± the maid yelled, excitement bubbling in her voice.

    Panji nodded, rallying the remaining gang members. They boarded the helicopter, ready for their second attempt.

    But as they soared through the air, the Diablos opened fire, The helicopter lurched violently, spinning out of control. Panji grabbed the doorframe, his knuckles white as the ground rushed up to meet them. The helicopter slammed into the side of the building, They crashed through a window and landed in the middle of an office floor, scattering desks and chairs.".

    The helicopter pilot was killed instantly, leaving only a handful of gang members alive as they dismounted in a hail of gunfire.

    ¡°Damn¡­¡± Panji groaned, clutching his bleeding head as he struggled to regain his bearings.

    ¡°Not the smoothest landing compared to my first time,¡± the maid quipped, wincing in pain.

    ¡°Huh? You owe me that story, girl. But right now, we have company,¡± Panji replied, his eyes narrowing as he prepared for another fight.

    ¡°Here,¡± she said, offering him some pills.

    ¡°Better than nothing,¡± he muttered, swallowing them quickly before diving back into the fray.

    On another floor, the Diablos were regrouping.

    ¡°Some of them are on the roof, and some just landed on the middle floor!¡± a gang member shouted.

    ¡°Wait, how did they get down there?¡± Flame asked, bewildered.

    ¡°They crashed into the building¡­¡± another explained, panic creeping into his voice.

    Just then, the Justice gang gained the upper hand, pushing closer to the main office area.

    ¡°Hah! This is it!¡± Flame shouted, lighting a stack of documents and computers on fire. ¡°They¡¯re getting closer, and when they arrive, they won¡¯t find anything!¡±

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± a Diablos member yelled, horrified.

    ¡°They¡¯re almost here!¡± Flame laughed maniacally as he watched the flames spread.

    The Justice gang regrouped, preparing for one final breach to the last floor.

    ¡°Good to see you¡¯re still intact. They¡¯re cornered now,¡± Chrome said, his voice steady.

    ¡°Let¡¯s finish this,¡± Panji replied, determination in his eyes.

    As they breached the door, smoke billowed out, obscuring their vision.

    ¡°Ughh¡­ I can¡¯t see anything!¡± the maid gasped, coughing through the haze.

    Suddenly, several Justice gang members were cut down by a hail of gunfire as the Diablos rushed at them. The battle devolved into chaos, with friendly fire becoming a real threat.

    ¡°Everyone, get back!¡± Chrome shouted, trying to regain control.

    Amidst the smoke, a figure in an exo-suit emerged, ruthlessly eliminating Justice gang members.

    ¡°Look! It¡¯s one of them! Shoot!¡± Chrome yelled, pointing.

    The gang opened fire, but the figure ducked and dodged, forcing them to reload.

    ¡°Now it¡¯s my turn¡­¡± Flame sneered, prepare Molotov cocktail into the air.

    Chrome drew his saw off shotgun and shot it mid-flight. The explosion sent flames outwards, injuring several gang members.

    Flame, enraged, attempted to throw another Molotov, but Chrome shot his hand, forcing him to retreat into the smoke.

    Meanwhile, in the burning office area, the maid and Panji pressed deeper, adrenaline driving them forward.

    ¡°AHHHAHHA! Oh girl, I¡¯m starting to get high from your pills and all this chaos. 10/10 experience!¡± Panji shouted, exhilaration coursing through him.

    ¡°Of course, darling! I¡¯m enjoying this too!¡± the maid grinned, her bloodlust matching his.

    Later, as they fought through the flames, Panji realized he was out of ammo.

    ¡°My bullets are gone!¡± he exclaimed, drawing his axe and dagger.

    ¡°Same here!¡± the maid said, dropping her SMG and pulling out her scythe.

    The blade glanced off Flame¡¯s shoulder plate, sending sparks flying but failing to penetrate the armor. Flame backhanded her, the force of the blow sending her sprawling across the floor.

    ¡°What the hell!¡± Panji shouted, rushing to her aid.

    He swung his axe at Flame, but it barely scratched the armored figure. Panji locked eyes with Flame, who glared back from behind his full-face helmet.

    ¡°Is that all you¡¯ve got?¡± Flame taunted, landing several brutal punches to Panji¡¯s face before throwing him back. then other justice member shooting at flame. distract him from panji

    Panji gasped for air, his vision blurring. He staggered to his feet, his hand instinctively going to his axe. He saw a nearby door and with a surge of adrenaline he swung the axe cutting the lock and the door flew open, revealing a room filled with terrified office workers, bound and gagged. Their eyes widened in terror as Panji stumbled in, his face covered in blood.

    ¡°Oh, thank you! They¡¯re going to kill us all! You have to get us out of here!¡± one worker pleaded, panic in his voice.

    Panji grabbed the collar of the nearest worker. ¡°Not so fast. Who¡¯s been running the news all this time?¡±

    ¡°Mammoth¡­ they¡¯re the ones financing us! Now, please, get us out of here!¡± the worker cried desperately.

    Just then, Flame burst into the room, hurling a Molotov cocktail toward the hostages. The tied-up hostages screamed, the others scrambling away. Panji roared, intercepting the bottle mid-air and hurling it back at Flame, who barely dodged the exploding glass.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Panji? Confused about how to defeat me?¡± Flame mocked, the flames casting his armored figure in a hellish glow.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t about winning or losing,¡± Panji retorted, his voice strained. ¡°It¡¯s about what¡¯s right.¡±

    The maid, clutching her wounded shoulder, stepped forward. ¡°He¡¯s right. You¡¯re sacrificing innocent people for your ¡®nation¡¯.¡±

    Flame gestured to the burning room, his voice laced with bitterness. ¡°Sacrifice? I sacrificed everything! Look at this patch!¡± He pointed to the red dagger on his shoulder. ¡°Red Guard. We fought to build this nation after the Zion capture Los Angeles. We brought order from chaos!¡±

    ¡°Order at the cost of freedom?¡± the maid countered, her voice sharp. ¡°You call this liberty? Keeping people in chains, silencing dissent? You¡¯re no different than the ones you fought against.¡±

    flame eyes seems burning in anger behind his full face helmet ¡°shut up woman!. you wanna equality? here equal fight!¡±

 Chapter 22 Old media

    Flame stood at the doorway, blocking any escape for the terrified office workers. A few managed to slip past him, but he was relentless, striking down anyone who dared to flee.

    In a nearby room, the remaining workers huddled together as they encountered Justice gang members.

    ¡°Please, don¡¯t shoot!¡± one of the workers pleaded.

    ¡°Wait! Hold on, guys! They¡¯re unarmed. Who are you?¡± Chrome shouted, raising his weapon but keeping it steady.

    Meanwhile, as Flame focused on blocking the door, the maid seized her chance.

    ¡°Ha! Watch your back, big guy!¡± she shouted as she lunged with her scythe.

    Panji rushed in right behind her, swinging his fist at Flame¡¯s helmet, but the blow barely phased him.

    ¡°Uhh, uhh! Damn it! I can¡¯t feel my hands!¡± Panji grunted, struggling to regain his footing.

    ¡°Are we done here?¡± Flame taunted, delivering a brutal kick that sent Panji sprawling and then tossing the maid aside like a rag doll.

    Panji and the maid found themselves cornered against the wall, both breathing heavily.

    On the other side of the building, Chrome was trying to rally the gang members.

    ¡°Who here can use a fire extinguisher?¡± he asked, looking for any volunteers.

    Blank stares met him as everyone shook their heads.

    ¡°Great¡­ useless,¡± Chrome muttered in frustration.

    ¡°Uh, I can!¡± a hesitant worker finally spoke up.

    Back with Flame, the villain laughed, drawing a Molotov cocktail from his back pocket. He flicked a lighter with a grin, igniting the bottle with a flick of his fingers.

    ¡°You two are a cute duo, but you chose the wrong opponent,¡± he said, raising the flaming bottle above his head.

    Just as Flame¡¯s arm arced back, ready to hurl the Molotov, Chrome lunged, tackling him around the legs. They crashed to the floor, the Molotov skittering away. Chrome scrambled to his feet, grabbing a fire extinguisher from the wall and spraying a jet of foam into Flame¡¯s faceplate. The foam obscured Flame¡¯s vision, causing him to stumble back, roaring in frustration

    ¡°Watch out, General! He¡¯s not finished yet!¡± Panji warned, as the two men continued to grapple.

    The maid¡¯s eyes widened as she watched the struggle unfold. ¡°This guy can¡¯t be beaten¡­¡±

    Flame regained his footing, shrugging off the foam, and lunged at Chrome, landing a few hard hits. The gang members opened fire, but their bullets had little effect.

    ¡°You idiots have no brains!¡± Flame taunted, advancing toward them menacingly.

    ¡°Wait! He¡¯s starting to tire! Keep hitting him!¡± the maid shouted, rallying the remaining gang members.

    But they hesitated, unsure of their next move.

    ¡°Why are you all standing around? Ahhh!¡± the maid yelled, frustration boiling over.

    With a sudden burst of courage, she rushed at Flame again, and this time, other gang members joined her, attacking in unison.

    Panji, desperate for a solution, pulled out his phone and dialed Techno.

    ¡°Haah¡­ hey, Eye Six¡­¡± he panted, trying to catch his breath.

    ¡°Panji? What¡¯s going on? I¡¯m not in the mood for phone pranks,¡± Techno replied, sounding annoyed.

    ¡°Stop joking! Look at this!¡± Panji said, showing Techno the scene of Flame in his exo-suit. ¡°How do I defeat this guy?¡±

    ¡°Is that a live feed? Cool. You¡¯re really on top of things,¡± Techno remarked.

    ¡°For God¡¯s sake, just tell me how to beat him!¡± Panji snapped.

    ¡°Give me a second¡­¡± Techno said, his voice trailing off.

    As the battle raged on, Flame grabbed the maid by the neck, throwing her toward Panji.

    ¡°Having fun, are we?¡± he taunted, raising another Molotov cocktail.

    ¡°Enough!¡± Panji shouted, trying to protect the maid.

    ¡°Okay, enough of this! I¡¯ll burn you all!¡± Flame declared, igniting another bottle and preparing to unleash hell.

    Outside the building, Nara sat in a taxi, peering out at the chaos ahead.

    ¡°Get closer to the location!¡± she urged the driver.

    ¡°Hey, there¡¯s a gang war going on! I¡¯m not getting any closer!¡± he protested.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Ignoring him, Nara tossed money at the driver and bolted from the car.

    Inside the building, Nara brushed past some gang members, narrowly avoiding their grasp.

    ¡°Get away from here, idiot!¡± one of them shouted.

    Nara weaved through wreckage, spotting charred bodies left in gruesome states.

    ¡°Ugh¡­ this is grotesque¡­¡± she muttered, her stomach churning.

    She rushed toward the elevator, but when the doors opened, a half-burned corpse tumbled out.

    ¡°Oh my God! Ueekkk¡­¡± Nara gagged, stepping back in horror.

    Meanwhile, back in the office, Flame had just finished incinerating several gang members.

    Chrome lunged at him, but Flame¡¯s fiery defense sent him reeling back, the ceiling catching fire.

    ¡°Ahhh! My eyes!¡± Chrome screamed, blinded by the smoke.

    Just then, Nara burst into the room, silent and fierce. Without hesitation, she charged at Flame.

    ¡°Wait! Nara, don¡¯t!¡± Panji shouted, horrified.

    Flame turned toward her, raising his flamethrower, but Nara managed to slide down and kick him hard in the stomach.

    ¡°Ahhh! Hot!¡± she cried, tossing her singed jacket aside.

    ¡°Hey! How did she survive?!¡± Panji exclaimed, bewildered.

    ¡°She must be wearing a bodysuit like mine,¡± the maid remarked, impressed.

    Panji¡¯s phone rang again.

    ¡°Hey, hey! Are you still there?¡± Techno¡¯s voice crackled through.

    ¡°Sorry! Have you figured out how to beat him?¡± Panji asked, urgency in his tone.

    ¡°There¡¯s an emergency button on his chin. It¡¯ll release his helmet,¡± Techno replied quickly.

    Panji nodded at the remaining gang members, who were now regaining their courage.

    ¡°Let¡¯s attack him from different directions!¡± he shouted.

    As they charged at Flame, he swung wildly, igniting a few gang members but becoming increasingly overwhelmed.

    One brave gang member tried to grab Flame¡¯s chin to find the hidden button, but Flame retaliated, burning his face in the process.

    While lying on the ground, Chrome managed to shoot Flame¡¯s device, causing the liquid to leak.

    ¡°Agh! It¡¯s leaking!¡± Flame howled, losing control of his flamethrower.

    The maid seized the moment, swallowing some pills for a boost of adrenaline, and rushed to strangle Flame from behind. The others grabbed his arms and legs, holding him down.

    ¡°Now!¡± the maid shouted, pushing the hidden button on Flame¡¯s chin.

    With a hiss, his helmet popped off, revealing a furious face beneath.

    ¡°Now!¡± Panji yelled, as he grabbed his axe and hurled it toward Nara.

    She caught it and swung at Flame¡¯s face, landing a solid hit that sent him crashing to the ground.

    Flame slumped to the ground, his final words a weak, broken plea: "I fight for freedom and...liberty..."

    The maid stared down at him, her face a mask of disgust. ¡°a sick bird think flying was illness.. a abused wife in toxic marriage will think his husband best of the world, hah¡±

    The room fell silent, the only sound the crackling of the nearby flames, the remaining gang members stood around, exhausted but victorious, while Nara stood tall, the axe glinting in her hand.

    that was a awkward reunion. Panji, however, couldn''t quite meet her gaze. panji nothing to say to nara.

    he just Moving on, Panji and the gang ushered the rescued office workers into a secure room. The atmosphere was thick with a nervous energy. They huddled around a table, remnants of the chaotic battle still fresh in everyone''s minds. The truth of the Free World was slowly unraveling before their eyes

    ¡°Look at this,¡± one of the workers said, pointing to a document filled with alarming details. Panji snatched it up, scanning the contents. His expression hardened as he read about the seven committee goals that justified the Zion presence under the guise of stability. Each point painted a chilling picture of manipulation and control:

    1.Radio Committee: Panji scanned the document. "Radio Committee, huh? Sounds like they''re blasting war tunes 24/7. No wonder everyone''s so hyped for the Colosseum."

    <ol start="2">

    <li>High School Contest Committee: Organizing competitions that promoted military values and preparedness, like marksmanship training and essays praising war heroes.</li>

    </ol>

    panji rub his hair ¡°huh? panji noticed a poster on a desk, depicting a group of smiling teenagers in military uniforms, holding rifles. The caption read: "Red Nation Youth: Forging the Heroes of Tomorrow."

    <ol start="3">

    <li>Book Burning Committee: Eliminating books deemed anti-war or subversive, controlling narratives and promoting loyalty to the regime.</li>

    </ol>

    maid then popping in her hair is mess, then comment ¡°lord had nice books you never see in his library. ¡°panji then nodded. and continue

    <ol start="4">

    <li>Library Committee: Curating libraries with pro-war literature and educational materials, shaping young minds toward acceptance of militarism.</li>

    </ol>

    "Looks like someone took ''curate'' a little too seriously. ''The Glorious History of the Red Nation'', huh? Bet that''s one heck of a bedtime story."

    <ol start="5">

    <li>Game Committee: Designing video games and interactive media that glamorized war, making violence an attractive option.</li>

    </ol>

    panji and maid Synchronize  ¡°Colosseum¡±

    <ol start="6">

    <li>Shop Committee: Offering discounts and privileges to veterans, creating a social hierarchy that rewarded military service.</li>

    </ol>

    panji and maid shared glance. then look at the nearby nerd worker, he then muttered

    ¡°we plan to make veteran discount ¡°he then forced smile then  mutters something about "adjusting the policy."

    <ol start="7">

    <li>Movie Committee: Producing pro-war films that indoctrinated citizens to normalize conflict.</li>

    </ol>

    TV hung on the wall, displaying a still image from a propaganda film. It showed a group of Red Nation soldiers rescuing civilians from a burning city, the soldiers¡¯ faces illuminated by the heroic glow of the flames.

    panji then comment ¡°yeah. sometimes i forgot if that kind of movie is a propaganda¡±

    Panji narrowed his eyes, disgusted by the revelations. Before he could absorb the full impact of the document, a low rumble filled the air outside.

    Suddenly, a fleet of military helicopters descended, surrounding the area. The Justice gang members dropped their weapons, raising their hands in surrender.

    ¡°Stay calm,¡± Panji urged, scanning the skies as a towering figure disembarked from one of the choppers¡ªa Magog, an elite soldier known for their brutal efficiency and imposing presence. The massive soldier began capturing all members of the Justice gang, his eyes cold and calculating. Some stubborn members attempted to fight back, but their bullets bounced harmlessly off the Magog''s armor.

    Panji, still fixated on the document, was unaware of the danger creeping up behind him until he felt a heavy tap on his shoulder. He turned around to find the Magog towering over him, a beastly mask obscuring his features.

    Before he could react, the Magog delivered a crushing punch to his face, and everything went dark.

    Panji jolted awake, finding himself at a desk in a dim, isolated room. A voice crackled to life over a speaker, smooth and dripping with condescension.

    ¡°Impressive, Panji. You''ve stirred quite the chaos. I am the Minister of Free World Media.¡±

    With a primal fury, Panji slammed his fist on the desk. The sound reverberated like a gunshot in the silence.

    ¡°Don¡¯t play coy, Minister. You know what I¡¯ve uncovered. I found the truth.¡±

    ¡°Now, now, Panji. No need for theatrics. We can discuss this rationally,¡± the Minister replied, as if Panji were a petulant child.

    ¡°Rational? There¡¯s nothing rational about brainwashing kids and turning them into cannon fodder for your sick games!¡± Panji shot back, rage igniting his chest.

    ¡°The Colosseum is a glorious tradition, Panji. It instills honor, discipline, and strength¡ªqualities you clearly possess. Freedom is a luxury. In the Red Nation, we offer stability and purpose. You could have that. Join the Blood Khaganate. Put your skills to good use.¡±

    ¡°Become another pawn in your twisted game? No thanks. I¡¯d rather die free than live as your slave.¡±

    ¡°Is that so? Then prepare to die, Panji. Silencing you is the only way to ensure the stability you crave.¡±

    Panji¡¯s heart raced as the room plunged into darkness.

    When the lights flickered back on, a bald man in a suit loomed over him, flanked by a hulking super soldier. The Minister smirked, a cruel twist of his lips.

    ¡°Just kidding. We don¡¯t want to kill a famous celebrity like you. And about your dream of defeating Zion¡­ do you really think killing him will end the war? I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    He gestured toward a monitor displaying a timeline of civilizations rising and falling¡ªfrom Uruk to Rome to the USA.

    ¡°What the hell do you mean?¡± Panji demanded, frustration boiling over. ¡°If you¡¯re going to kill me, just do it. Don¡¯t bore me with history.¡±

    The Minister snickered, clearly enjoying himself. ¡°I actually just like Kassandra¡­¡± He straightened, adopting a serious tone. ¡°If we kill Zion, it will only bring more chaos.¡±

    Panji felt his anger simmering, but he held back. ¡°Stop that bullshit. I¡¯m not pro-war anymore. You can peddle your nonsense about the luxuries of a free nation built on war, but I don¡¯t buy it!¡±

    ¡°No, you don¡¯t understand. Do you think this is all about one man, Panji?¡±

    Panji paused, the weight of the question sinking in.

    ¡°Yes,¡± the Minister nodded, revealing a tattoo of a tusk on his arm. ¡°Mammoth, ¡­ so you see.¡±

    Panji¡¯s breath caught in his throat. ¡°the White Nation ....¡±

    The Minister quickly covered his tattoo with his suit. ¡°Yes, let¡¯s work together. I¡¯ll make you the new leader of this world.¡±

    Annoyance flickered in Panji¡¯s eyes, his fists clenching. ¡°What¡¯s your angle?¡±

    ¡°The celebrity rules in this nation. It doesn¡¯t matter if you have brains or not, if you have popularity, you have power. A homeless person in the sewer might recognize you more than I or even Kassandra.¡±

    Panji narrowed his eyes, the gears in his mind churning. ¡°Just tell me how.¡±

    The Minister¡¯s smirk deepened, a glint of malice in his eyes. ¡°Zion doesn¡¯t even know about you. He¡¯s too focused on his next campaign. That boy is blind, but you¡­ you know everything.¡±

    Panji''s voice echoed in the room as he shouted, ¡°Just stop being cryptic! What do you want?¡±

    The Minister¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°If you want to defeat Zion, it¡¯s by overcoming his popularity. The people¡¯s hearts are with you right now. You must gain the soldiers¡¯ loyalty. That is how you defeat him.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you want me to become a war hero?¡± Panji asked, incredulity spilling from his lips.

    The Minister¡¯s smile faded, replaced by a look of cold calculation. ¡°The cycle is inevitable, Panji. But you can choose which side you¡¯re on when it turns. You can be a part of the next great empire, or you can be crushed beneath its wheels.¡± He paused, his eyes fixed on Panji. ¡°The choice is yours.¡±

    Panji stared at the Minister. He understood now. This wasn¡¯t just about Zion, or the Red Nation, or even the war. It was about something much bigger, something that had been repeating itself for centuries. And he was now being offered a role in that grand, tragic play.

 Chapter 23 Sea Tribe

    now our new protag become a local hero in red nation, its about war of heart and mind, but what happen to our little nara? well. she become more fall in love with our panji. yep that make us roll our eyes, but hey. love its love. and she know see a distance between him. she now join a gladiatoral combat to make panji see her again..well lets refresh our perpective a bit. by look at sea

    in deep of pasific ocean. a hidden city. survive from nuclear holocaust in ww3. a place of the legedary robinhood pirate. Jozen

    Atop a sleek aircraft carrier, Jozen, with his pale Asian features and blue hair tied back, presides over a lineup of prisoners. His mechanical arms loom over them as he delivers judgments with a mix of justice and whimsy ¡°so guilty for working for red nation..¡± he then turn to next people ¡°you guilty for spreading porn in netcom ¡° he then turn to next people ¡°you guilty for..i dont know. i just dont like your vibe ¡° he then turn back and took a seat.

    while his guard put the prisoner of giant air cannon. with raise his drink. he order his guard to begun a shot.the prisoner then fly to the air, other prisoner then tremble in fear, wait for impending doom.

    As Jozen watches the prisoners launched from the air cannon, he thinks, "They''re all just floating debris in the ocean of time. Some sink, some float. It doesn''t really matter in the end."

    tribal factions remnant in North America fled into the pasific. some is join jozen side. but not all of their interaction is rainbow and sunshine despite hate the same guy,, the tribal groups were treated like second-class citizens, seen as anarchist punks who hated tech a bit too much.

    Meanwhile, out in the vast ocean, Low Tide, a warrior from the Seahorse Tribe, woke up stark naked on a raft. A storm had wrecked his fleet, leaving him stranded. on distant island he can see his ship. named the Sea Dancer is busted, and his crew is gone.

    Alone and determined to survive for 100 days, he found himself surrounded by small trash islands. His new mission? Build pontoon bridges using materials like chapas, which were plentiful thanks to the collapse of underwater cities.

    As day one broke, Low Tide took stock of his situation. His raft was busted, the sail was in tatters, and the undercurrent was too strong to swim against. But hey, he was alive, and the ocean didn''t give a damn. : As Low Tide surveys his wrecked raft, he thinks, "The ocean doesn''t care about my plans. It never has. It just keeps going, wave after wave." then he Remembering the Seahorse Tribe''s saying, "Idle fish are easily speared," he got to work, gathering supplies and plotting his next moves.

    On the third day, he repurposed the remnants of his tattered sail into makeshift tribal wear, a light garment to help him cope with the heat. He also started fishing, using the scraps as bait to catch larger creatures. His efforts paid off when he successfully hunted a green eel, adding it to his growing stash of resources.

    Just then, a survivor from Jozen''s launch, who had lost his memory, stumbled upon Low Tide. With nowhere else to go and survival on the line, he decided to join Low Tide on his quest.

    Things were looking up. Another eel became lunch, and Low Tide stumbled upon a glowing sapling¡ªprobably a radiation mutant, but he preferred to think of it as a gift from the Sea Gods, but Low Tide didn¡¯t know that. To him, it was a mythical find, so he plopped that glowing sapling right in the center of his tribal base.

    By day five, the first section of the western bridge was done. Then, a foggy rainstorm decided to crash the party. The sand connecting the sandbars started to melt away like sugar in water. Low Tide scrambled to salvage what he could, but the relentless rain claimed everything, even the glowing sapling. The ocean, it seemed, had a sense of humor.

    Undeterred, Low Tide decided to head north, drawn by rumors of a easy fishing. Then, BAM! Another storm hit, complete with vivid, terrifying visions of his tribe¡¯s ships being crushed by waves. Ignoring the bad vibes, Low Tide braved the swaying northern bridge in the middle of the storm, because, you know, proving himself to the Sea Gods is important. He finished the bridge, celebrated with raw salmon and the remaining vodka, and promptly passed out.

    The next morning, he found a wild, naked woman to the northwest. Not from his tribe. Looked tough, though. He decided to call her Maya. As the storm petered out into a heavy rain, they set to work on another section of the northern bridge. Halfway through, they ran out of planks. Time for some DIY lumberjacking.

    Just when things seemed bleak, the Sea Gods (or maybe just random chance) delivered a magnificent dire bear¡ªelk horns and all¡ªto the southern sandbars. Thankfully, it stayed put. Low Tide scavenged what he could, playing a real-life Tetris game with his raft¡¯s resources.

    With supplies replenished, Low Tide resumed work on the westward bridge. Days blurred under a gloomy sky, the sea creatures looking extra grumpy. Even the tuna seemed to have an attitude. Low Tide¡¯s hands were calloused, his back ached, but he kept going, finding small moments of peace in the sunsets. He worried he was the last of his tribe, the last seahorse.

    Then, a stroke of luck: he fished up a madora¡ªa plain white hat that instantly became his most prized possession. The next morning,

    The next morning, he completed the first section of the western bridge, only to discover Maya¡¯s skeletal remains. Wrapping her in eel leather, he buried her in the sand and said a prayer, hoping her spirit would find peace as he tried to comfort hers.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    By day 15, Low Tide was pushing south, wrestling a red snapper for his bait ¨C and eventually, his lunch. A cheeky dolphin tried to steal some, proving they weren¡¯t all Flipper. His fishing trap then coughed up pemican, and within the hour, the southern bridge stretched to completion, revealing two chapas. He planted hay, dreaming of future crops.

    He crafted a short bow, a perfect fit for his ranged skills, and added a stone-cutting station to his raft, turning coral into building blocks. The dolphin returned, but Low Tide was ready. One missed shot, one bullseye, a quick escape, and a well-earned dolphin steak cooked over a coral fire pit. ¡°Look what I made! Fire!¡± he declared, feeling like a true survivor as the flames danced against the sunset.

    The next few days settled into a routine of cooking, fishing, and organizing. Even a tussle with a sea snail provided a welcome break from the ocean¡¯s monotony. A caravan from the Orange Ocean Settlement, led by the oddly named Terz Protein Newton and sporting distinctive orange hats, appeared on the horizon. Sadly, his fire wasn¡¯t enough to lure them through the surrounding wreckage.

    They finished the second part of the southern bridge and checked the improved fishing net. This time, it held a surprise: a shiny new SMG, a gift from the Sea Gods (or maybe just some careless pirate). It was basically a fancy bow, right?

    Some days were a drag, others a chaotic mess. A sea snail became target practice, and they learned to avoid the sandbar¡¯s sea sponges. Pushing east, Low Tide felt like he was stuck in a bridge-building Groundhog Day, but then he fished up gold and other treasures! A few hours later, a great white shark decided to test his mettle. Overconfident, Low Tide got too close and took a bite to the leg. He emptied his new SMG into the beast before it finally went belly up. Just a flesh wound, but those sharks were tough.

    Then, raiders arrived, more interested in loot and slaves than Low Tide. Their fires stirred up the local wildlife, culminating in a spectacular shark vs. nuna showdown. Amidst the chaos, Low Tide befriended a chill sea turtle (no hunting this one). They fished, built an iron research bench, and then steel rained from the sky ¨C another gift from above. On day 37, a man fell from the sky, too injured to help. Then another man crashed down.and at afternoon Traders from the League of Coya strolled past them like he wasn¡¯t even there.

    Low Tide finished fixing the textile spinning and played some supply Tetris to make room for the spinning wheel. Soon, they were churning out cloth like pros, using bison wool when the cotton ran out. The northeast bridge was completed, providing extra wood, storage, a log seat, and a drying rack.

    Preparing for the western expansion, Low Tide rearranged everything again. Feeling drained, he downed an energy drink and worked at lightning speed

    Day 55 brought a tame manta ray, quickly named Rey Mysterio. Low Tide built him a kelp bed, and they enjoyed a peaceful night ¨C briefly. A lurking crocodile and a horrifying man-squid abomination soon changed that. A massive wave knocked Low Tide out, and a lightning strike jolted him awake. The ocean never gave him a break.

    Lightning crackled, and memories flooded back, paralyzing him with fear. Rey nudged his leg, snapping him out of it. An elder¡¯s words echoed in his mind: fear is like an ocean, it can drown you or be your ally. Low Tide dove beneath the waves, finding a moment of peace in the bioluminescent glow, where spectral sea creatures danced with Rey. Then, a whisper: "Maya." A spectral woman appeared, offering a warm touch before fading away. He resurfaced with Rey, laughing and crying, finally at one with the ocean.

    Days blurred into a mix of work and survival. They faced man-hunting tortoises and kiwis, crafted coral blocks, and built planters. ¡°What a fool I¡¯ve been!¡± Low Tide exclaimed, filling the bridges with crops. His bond with Rey grew stronger. A dolphin, named Dolph ,¡±don¡¯t laugh, it¡¯s a great name!¡± lowtide said to other, then dolph joined their little crew.

    On the 84th day, Rey playfully tugged Low Tide into deeper water, showing off his strength and sparking memories of tribal ocean lore. Low Tide wondered if his own tribe had possessed such deep sea knowledge. He then had the brilliant idea to make a backpack¡ªwhy hadn''t he thought of that sooner? September became a blur of skirmishes, weird animal encounters, and a scorching heatwave that nearly cooked him alive. A poor kid named Molt crash-landed nearby amidst some space junk, but didn''t last long.

    By day 99, he''d reached the Sea Dancer. Months of work had led to this, and Low Tide eagerly set about restoring his ship. Planks were cut, the lantern refueled¡ªthe Seahorse Tribe was back in business! While fixing the deck, he discovered some dusty old parchments hidden in a compartment. Jackpot! Diagrams and instructions for flippers and animal training¡ªchieftain-level secrets! He was itching to dive into them, but the ship came first.

    As the restoration continued, a nagging thought crept into his mind: Why was he doing this? He¡¯d been so focused on reaching the ship, but now it felt¡­empty. He''d hoped it would bring back his tribe, but they were gone. The Sea Dancer was just a ghost of what it once was.

    He thought fixing the ship would somehow bring back his tribe, but they were gone. The wreckage was just rotting wooden bones.

    By day 111, Low Tide had finished his research on flippers. Using salvaged rubber wheels, he carefully cut and shaped them, finally creating two functional pairs. They felt awkward on land, but in the water, they transformed him, allowing him to glide through the currents with newfound ease. He practiced in the shallows, growing bolder with each passing day.

    This newfound mobility opened up deeper waters, but also brought new dangers. He encountered larger predators and stronger currents, and one close call with a reef shark served as a stark reminder of the ocean¡¯s power. He realized that if he was going to venture further from the island, he would need help.

    Over the next week, he began training his companions. Using a combination of gestures and sounds, he taught Dolph to scout ahead and Rey Mysterio to carry him when necessary. Dolph, though small, was quick and agile, perfect for reconnaissance. Rey, surprisingly strong, could easily navigate the deeper currents while carrying Low Tide on his back. By the end of the week, they were a well-coordinated team, ready for whatever the ocean threw at them.

    On day 133, Low Tide stood on the deck of the restored Sea Dancer, taking in the sight of the trash island that had been his home for so long. It had been a place of hardship and isolation, a constant psychological battle against the loneliness and the endless cycle of sunrises and sunsets. But it was also a place where he had rediscovered his resilience, forged new friendships, and found a new purpose. This island was where his tribe was lost, but also where his new tribe was found. The most important lesson he had learned: if you find yourself, you can overcome anything.

    The Sea Dancer sat docked against the trash island, a makeshift home. Low Tide no longer saw himself as a nomad, but something else entirely¡­ a sea villager, perhaps.

    He didn¡¯t know what awaited them beyond the horizon, but he realized they didn¡¯t need to search for a home. As long as they had each other, they were already there. He smiled at the newest members of the Seahorse Tribe, and together, they set off into the unknown.

    Meanwhile, Jozen''s operation had taken an unexpected turn. The Sea Tribe''s journey, initially intended as mere observation, had morphed into a hit documentary series. Blue Nation cameras, always present, had captured Low Tide''s struggles in painstaking detail, transforming his desperate fight for survival into something resembling a BBC nature program¡ªalbeit one set in a flooded, post-apocalyptic world. The irony wasn''t lost on anyone: Low Tide, a man just trying to stay alive, had become a sensation, a symbol of hope without even realizing it. lowtide become a popular even without trying to be someone else

 Chapter 24 Pirate den

    Meanwhile, deep in the ocean, a giant bubble held a hidden metropolis, with a tower-like structure at its center acting as a hub and port, connecting the ocean floor to the surface. Once a tourist hotspot for the elite, this place transformed into the main city of the Blue Nation after WW3 and the great EMP collapse, turning what used to mimic a sandy chick''s home into a bustling center of activity.

    In one of the underground cities called ARIA, Jozen watched the seahorse tribe and other tribes living on the surface of Trash Island. He secretly enjoyed their progress, even though he wasn¡¯t directly involved. Once, they had used Trash Island as a banishment zone, but now he felt a master-pet relationship with them, especially as they began to see his actions as god-like.

    Jozen watched the flickering images on the screen, the struggles of the surface dwellers a distant echo in his underwater world. He had given them a chance, a small corner of his vast domain, and they had¡­ adapted. He almost felt a sense of pride.

    After finishing a documentary about their journey, he turned his attention to the lab. In front of him was a holographic AI resembling Ruan Mei, the mad scientist killed by Alam. Before her death, she had stored her memories as data, and Jozen used her memory to fuel his own ambitions.

    Since breaking away from the Red Nation, he declared himself the Blue Nation, acting as a playful jab at Zion. His attention shifted, however, as a summons arrived. A meeting was about to begin, one that would set the course for the Blue Nation''s next move

    Until one day, in a meeting at Aria, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Among the serious elite figures in suits and military uniforms, two striking figures stood out. One was a man with long blonde hair, dressed in a white Japanese garment adorned with random kanji. He was La Buse, the pirate lord of the Caribbean. The other was Olga Valvara, the pirate queen of the North Atlantic, draped in glamorous fur and a flamboyant hat with a red feather. The only empty seat in the room belonged to Sumbhaje.

    Jozen sat at the center of the table, ready to speak after a long, tedious meeting. Olga and La Buse lingered in the hallway, taking in the dreamy blue cityscape outside. Below them, the people of the Blue Nation moved about the streets¡ªsome walking on their own limbs, others sporting mechanical ones, and a few using drones for transport. Some even rode in pods along train-like lines, fully embracing the pre-war technology that surrounded them.

    As the meeting adjourned, Olga and La Buse lingered in the hallway, the weight of Jozen''s words hanging in the air

    La Buse, clutching his ancient Game Boy, broke the silence. ¡°Do you guys viking like anime?¡±

    Olga snorted, ¡°No, you silly boy. We prefer blood and mushrooms!¡±

    La Buse kept his eyes glued to his Game Boy. ¡°I should sell those animes to your unwashed crew then.¡±

    Olga lowered her wine glass, shaking her head. ¡°No thanks, weeb. I don¡¯t want to brainwash my crew with ancient cartoons.¡±

    La Buse shoots her a sharp look. ¡°Hey, what''s with the nickname? I¡¯m not a weeb! Anime isn¡¯t just a cartoon; it¡¯s a rich art form filled with love, adventure, and friendship. Some of it is genuinely beautiful!¡±

    Olga chuckles mockingly, ¡°Oh yeah? Not a weeb? That¡¯s what every weeb says! And I appreciate anime as much as I do mushrooms.¡±

    ¡°Come on, matey! Anime is just a glorified cartoon with a Japanese twist!¡± she teases.

    ¡°Yeah? And mushrooms are just ordinary fungi!¡± La Buse retorts, his voice rising. ¡°Great anime can touch hearts!¡±

    ¡°Right, and that makes it any less silly?¡± Olga laughs sarcastically. ¡°You¡¯re too blind to see it¡¯s just mindless entertainment for mindless consumers!¡±

    La Buse, clearly agitated, almost shouts, ¡°You¡¯re wrong! Anime expresses stories and emotions in a visually appealing way. You just lack the open-mindedness to appreciate the finer things in life!¡±

    Rolling her eyes, Olga shoots back, ¡°Calm down, weeb boy. Do you even remember what Jozen said before? I didn¡¯t quite catch it.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°What!? Stop calling me ¡®weeb boy¡¯! It¡¯s disrespectful!¡± La Buse takes a deep breath to calm himself. ¡°I remember what Jozen said. It was about the potential for escalation on the battlefield.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now let¡¯s put the anime debate aside and focus on strategy. What do we know about Red Nation¡¯s current position? Where are their military bases, and what kind of defenses do they have?¡± Olga asks firmly.

    La Buse responds, ¡°From our intel, Red Nation has three main bases. One in Anchorage, Canada, where they¡¯ve got a huge, well-equipped army. The second is in Toronto, also well-guarded. The last is in Los Angeles, their capital. They have superior technology and well-trained troops. As for weaknesses¡­ they have none.¡±

    Olga smirks, ¡°Hmm, they sound formidable. But even the strongest army has weaknesses. Notice how all their bases are on coasts? If we attack them by sea, we could gain a huge advantage.¡±

    ¡°Good point,¡± La Buse concedes. ¡°They do favor coastal cities. But we can¡¯t underestimate their Navy. While we¡¯re well-trained, we don¡¯t have the numbers to match their sheer power. We¡¯ll need a tactical plan that leverages our strengths and minimizes our weaknesses.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± Olga says. ¡°But we have the edge in naval technology and tactics. Our ships are modern and agile. Let¡¯s use your submarines to sneak behind enemy lines for surprise attacks. We can also use fast vessels to disrupt their supply lines and draw their ships into open waters, where we are stronger.¡±

    La Buse nods, ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re being reasonable now. My submarines can launch surprise attacks, and our smaller vessels can disrupt their supply lines. This strategy has potential; I¡¯m ready to greenlight it.¡±

    ¡°Excellent,¡± Olga replies. ¡°We¡¯ll use your submarines for stealthy attacks and smaller vessels to weaken their supply. Once Red Nation is destabilized, we can strike decisively at their main base.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± La Buse says, determination in his eyes. ¡°For this plan to succeed, we need the element of surprise. The Red Nation mustn¡¯t see us coming until it¡¯s too late.¡±

    As Jozen oversaw the preparations for the upcoming conflict, a thought crossed his mind. He wondered if the chaos on the surface would eventually ripple down to the depths of the ocean. Perhaps, a certain young rebel, a rising star in the resistance against Red Nation, would play a crucial role in shaping the future of both worlds.

    Once a bandit mercenary, Panji has transformed into a hero. His newfound popularity springs from his genuine rebellion against one of the most manipulative nations on Earth. In a world where authenticity is a rare commodity, Panji¡¯s spirit shines brightly.

    Meanwhile, far from the underwater city of ARIA, weeks after the events at the Free World Media building, Panji returned to Red Summer, greeted by the same maid who fought alongside him during the Justice Arc. Now dressed in her professional maid attire, she guides him to meet the lord.

    ¡°Congratulations, Panji! You¡¯re just one step away. You¡¯ve freed this land,¡± the lord exclaims, arms wide open.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Let¡¯s cut to the chase. What do you know about the Mammoth? They¡¯re like the CIA of the White Nation, right?¡± Panji replies bluntly.

    ¡°Yes, exactly,¡± the lord acknowledges. ¡°They are the unethical agents behind that Persever Tech. There are many theories about them. Some say they want to incite conflicts between nations to keep them in the Stone Age, ensuring Madagascar¡¯s tech remains unmatched. Others believe they are simply a necessary evil in our dynamic world.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, ''necessary power''?¡± Panji presses.

    ¡°Think about it this way: on a global scale, you need justification for war. You can¡¯t just bash heads like in gang wars; you need a reason. War is about control,¡± the lord explains.

    ¡°So they¡¯re just overpaid assholes? The minister is one of them¡± Panji retorts. then continue

    ¡°If Zion builds its reputation on killing, I¡¯ll build mine on saving lives,¡± Panji declares.

    The lord smiles. ¡°Yes, and I¡¯ll back you up. And once this is all over, let¡¯s take down the minister too.¡±

    Panji smiles and hands the lord a bracelet from Eden. The lord accepts it, nostalgia flickering in his eyes. ¡°From Eden, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ what¡¯s the story?¡± Panji asks, curiosity piqued.

    The lord nods. ¡°In the past, she was one of my maids. During Zion''s conquest of Los Angeles, she was among the refugees trying to escape the city. She was injured badly¡­ so she retired.¡±

    ¡°Cool story,¡± Panji replies, his tone casual.

    With shared resolve, Panji and the lord strategize their next moves, ready to confront the chaos ahead.

    As Panji prepares to leave, the maid drops her professional facade. ¡°So, the hero sets sail into the unknown, leaving his woman behind?¡± she teases.

    Panji, revving his motorbike, glances back with a smile before speeding off into the sunset. The maid waves at him, then sighs, turning to the other maids. ¡°Alright, girls, let¡¯s prepare dinner for our lord.¡±

    After his meeting with the lord, Panji hopped on his motorbike, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and red. As he sped down the highway

    Suddenly, a copper chopper swoops low in front of him. The chopper descended rapidly, its rotors churning the air. Panji gripped his handlebars tightly, gauging the distance, the wind whipping at his face. With a burst of speed, he angled his bike up the descending ramp, the front wheel bumping slightly as he entered the cargo hold."

    Chrome greets him with a grin, both impressed and irritated. ¡°You asshole¡­ you know that?¡±

    Panji removes his shades and replies nonchalantly, ¡°I know.¡±

    The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the chopper in a crimson glow as it sped eastward, toward the vast expanse of Asia, a land beyond the Free World and the Pacific. The Justice gang, once rebels fighting against the system, now found themselves unwillingly absorbed into it. Some embraced their new roles as soldiers under Panji, while others were content to be local heroes. On a small monitor within the chopper, Veronica, the same news anchor they''d encountered at the Free World Media building, appeared on screen,

    "World News: 2401 AD - Just a year after the formation of the New Old Council, Central Asia braces for the encroaching shadow of the Blood Khaganate, a vassal state of the Red Nation. In a desperate attempt to avert global war, the NWC has imposed a weapons embargo on the region. But as the old adage goes, ''War never changes, only the players do.''"

    panji then rub his mechanical finger. and look at the blisfully soldier around him. joking and boasting how many head they smash in past. But Panji, a veteran of countless mercenary battles, knew this was different. This wasn¡¯t a gang war fought in the back alleys of a crumbling city. This was something bigger, something far more brutal. He turned his gaze to the setting sun, its fiery reflection shimmering on the sea below. They were diving headfirst into a new kind of war, a war that would test them in ways they couldn¡¯t yet imagine.

 Chapter 25 Road to ww4

    Welcome to Central Asia, a charming wasteland where warmongering warlords play king and former mercs are now jobless and bound by no law. It¡¯s a powder keg just waiting to blow.

    First things first, Alam needs weapons and guns. How does he get them? Through the black market, of course. Carmelita, the woman in the black veil, who¡¯s been tasked with ensuring the weapon supply and governing the western territories, which are mostly in Europe for the Wanderers. This way, Alam can focus on his eastern campaign. For now, he¡¯s on the lookout for a new secretary to help him reclaim his lost territory.

    In Alam''s office, a holographic map of Central Asia lights up in front of them. Eleanor, Alam''s new secretary and a savvy blonde strategist, leans in.

    "They''re consolidating power," she says, her voice low. "Each general is a piece in a deadly game, vying for control. We need to disrupt their plans before they checkmate us into oblivion. The Red Nation is sending their own mercs and weapons to the Khaganate, but it¡¯s only a matter of time before they send in the real army."

    Before Alam can even wrap his head around that, a spy bursts in. "Leader, there''s growing discord within the Blood Khaganate. Feihong''s strategic brilliance is clashing with Baihu''s reckless charges."

    It¡¯s starting to look a lot like the U.S. intervention in Afghanistan, where they supported rebels to counter the Soviets, only to have some of those rebels turn into the Taliban and Al-Qaeda, who later turned on the U.S. The same goes for the Red Nation''s relationship with the Khaganate; some Khaganate generals are proving to be rebellious and not fully united, especially after their failure defeating alam in last winter war.

    And here come Zhang, Mei, and Li¡ªthree colorful characters bursting with enthusiasm. Zhang looks like he stepped out of a historical drama, Mei¡¯s in a dress that could double as a party invitation, and Li¡¯s got more tattoos than a biker convention. They chime in, "We stand ready to serve, Master Alam!" with the kind of fervor usually reserved for cult leaders.

    Alam sighs, contemplating the joys of leadership "Alright, let''s take over the world, one merc group at a time. But first, let''s deal with the Blood Khaganate, because they''re kind of a big deal."

    Alam nods, and Eleanor projects a holographic map of Central Asia, highlighting key merc groups. "Zhang, negotiate with the Vanara Vanguard. Li, scout the Garuda Legion. Mei, charm your way into the Scrap Queen''s stronghold."

    Eleanor turns to Alam. "The choice is yours, Master. Will you fight to secure the land? Or forge alliances?"

    Alam replies, "I miss being in the field... hehe... Who''s the most troublesome merc?"

    Eleanor answers, "The Garuda Legion is strong, and Baihu is a reckless general who charges enemy lines alone. Destabilizing their leadership is best. Use Li''s charm to make her fall for him and infiltrate their stronghold. The information will be invaluable for planning our next strike."

    Alam decides, "I''ll deal with the Garuda personally. The rest of you, handle the others. Any questions?"

    "No questions, master. We''ll get to work immediately," Eleanor responds

    The team shakes their heads in unison, eager to jump into action, leaving Alam to ponder his next moves.

    ¡°Now, about this Garuda situation¡­¡± he muses as the screen flickers to life, showcasing a chaotic battlefield. A lone figure in crimson rides through the fray like she¡¯s auditioning for a role in a superhero flick. Her horse¡ªlet¡¯s just say it makes Pegasus look like a donkey cutting through enemy lines with ease. Yet, her reckless disregard for her own safety and that of her troops was evident.

    eleanor then comment ¡°¡°That¡¯s Baihu, charging into enemy lines with a kris blade charged up with geothermal power¡±

    Alam, puzzled, asks, "What do you mean with geothermal power? Is that another... umm... what is called... BEDTIME STORY?!"

    Eleanor clarifies, "Well, it''s a bit complicated to explain, but essentially, it boils down to this: The Garuda Legion has access to geothermal technology, an advanced form of heat-based weaponry. This allows them to create powerful beams or waves of heat, So, if you want to take her down, you''ll have to find a way to counter her geothermal advantage."

    Alam orders, "Alright,sci-fi shit,, send a spy... mhm, Yes, yes... I wanna go too."

    Eleanor shows another map of the surrounding area, including hills, forests, and rivers. There are several paths that lead to the Garuda Legion''s stronghold, but they all narrow at certain points, making it easier for them to defend against an assault.

    Alam, curious, asks, "Is there a volcano or something nearby? You said they harvest geothermal stuff."

    Eleanor explains, "Yes, the Garuda Legion''s stronghold is located near a geothermal zone. this geothermal power source provides a double-edged sword. You can also use it against them if you wish..."

    Alam instructs, "Okay, please prioritize the spy mission to examine this mechanism. Meanwhile, prepare the Hind with an escort team. I wanna see with my own eyes."

    Eleanor confirms, "Understood. We''ll prioritize the spy mission to examine the geothermal technology. As for the Hind, we''ll keep it at stand-by with an escort team until you return from the Garuda Legion''s stronghold. Any other orders, Master?"

    Alam pats Eleanor''s head. "Nothing... You do a good job."

    Eleanor blushes. "Thank you, master. I''m always at your service."

    Alam, ready to go, says, "Yeah... See you later."

    As Alam prepares to leave, he can¡¯t help but feel a twinge of excitement. ¡°Alright, pray to Gott to bless our mission!¡± He boards the Hind, ready for whatever chaos awaits.

    Alam dons a disguise and signals the pilot. The Hind lands a few meters from the main entrance of the Garuda Legion''s stronghold, located at the edge of a geothermal field. The main entrance is heavily guarded by armed guards with anti-aircraft cannons. The pilot leaned back, probably wondering if he¡¯d signed up for a war or a comedy show.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Alam, confident with just armed with medival sword and pistol, dismounts and starts walking toward the entrance. The Garuda guard quickly spots him approaching and aims their guns at him.

    ¡°Who are you? What do you want?¡± one of the guards barked, his gun trained on Alam like it was a laser pointer on a cat. ¡°State your business or get ready to become a human target practice!¡±

    Alam, unfazed, replies, "Yeah, I heard you guys have a problem finding weapons and ammo. I''m from the Emerald League. I know connections to the black market arsenal. Tell that to your leader."

    The guard''s eyes narrowed but he relayed the message to General Baihu. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Baihu herself¡ªa vision in crimson who looked like she stepped out of a fantasy novel, complete with a sword that could probably slice through space-time.

    "So, which of the top mercenary leagues sent you here to meet me? And how do you plan to secure us weapons and ammo?" Baihu asks.

    Alam, smooth-talking, says, "Oh, wonderful woman... So you''re the leader of this base?"

    Baihu, intrigued, responds, "My, my, what a smooth talker you are. Are you really from the Emerald League? I bet they sent the most handsome guy here to tempt me." She smirks at Alam. He''s certainly got confidence. A welcome change from the stiff formality of my officers. Though, tempting me? He has no idea what he''s getting into.

    Alam, playing along, says, "Hoho... Perhaps..." He draws a document about various types of guns and ammo.

    Baihu, interested, says, "Hmhm... I see that is a fine list of weapons that you offer. Let me have a closer look at the list."

    She walks toward Alam, stops for a moment, and then bends forward, as if she''s going to whisper something in his ear.

    Alam, keeping up the act, says, "Yeah... Finding goods is easy... Finding a buyer is hard."

    She then whispers something in Alam''s ear. "Oh, I see... You can also secure the buyer for our black market deal... That''s amazing news."

    A middleman, then. Clever. This could be more useful than I thought. She steps closer to Alam and stands right in front of him. She smells his scent and smirks, her body slowly touching him. He smells of¡­ ozone and something faintly metallic. Intriguing.

    Alam faced Baihu, the fiery leader of the Garuda Legion, with a question hanging in the air: "Do you have money?"

    Baihu''s eyes danced with mischief. "Maybe," she teased, "but play your cards right, and I might give you something more valuable than money." He''s not falling for it. Good. I wouldn''t respect him if he did.

    Alam chuckled, shifting the conversation. "I''ve heard you have some interesting tech here¡ªgeothermal stuff?"

    Baihu''s smirk widened. "Oh, you''re referring to our geothermal technology. It''s rare, expensive, and incredibly powerful. It allows us to create devastating beams and waves of heat. Interested?"

    Alam nodded, intrigued. "I might be able to trade for it."

    Baihu''s interest piqued. "What do you have in mind? I need to ensure this is a fair deal."

    Alam, with a playful tone, asked, "Can I see it first? I just want to make sure."

    Baihu''s expression shifted, her smirk deepening as she leaned closer to Alam''s ear. "Spicy talk," she whispered, her voice laced with temptation. He''s definitely enjoying this. As am I. But I won''t let him forget who''s in charge. "But before we discuss tech, can I ask you something?"

    Alam, curious, agreed. "Sure, what is it?"

    Baihu''s voice dropped to a sultry whisper. "Can you kiss my neck?" Let''s see if he''s all talk.

    Alam, caught off guard, laughed. "You''re quite the lonely woman here, aren''t you? I can offer you more than that."

    Baihu''s face lit up with enjoyment, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I didn''t expect such a bold offer so soon. I''m not shy, so I''ll take you up on that."

    Alam, ever the businessman, steered the conversation back. "But first, let''s talk about your geothermal toy."

    Baihu, amused, played along. "Oh, you want to see it? Then let''s go." He''s persistent. I respect that. She grabbed Alam''s hand, leading him through the stronghold''s bustling courtyard. Besides, I am curious to see his reaction.

    And just like that, Alam was deep in enemy territory, balancing seduction and scheming like a high-stakes game of chess

    As they walked, Baihu leaned close, her whisper hot against Alam''s ear. "My geothermal toy is our most powerful asset. It''s why we''re confident in our defenses. And I''m confident I can make you scream, too."

    Alam, intrigued, asked, "How did you acquire it?"

    Baihu''s smirk widened. "We took it from a team of scientists. They were close to discovering it, but we got there first." She leaned even closer, her fingers playing with Alam''s collar. "I''m willing to share it with you, but there''s a condition..."

    Alam, curious, pressed, "What''s the condition?"

    Baihu''s voice was a sultry promise. "You must satisfy my every wish if you want to see my geothermal toy. Do you accept?"

    Alam, with a laugh, agreed. "I thought you''d want money, but sure, why not?"

    Baihu, her body moving closer, whispered, "I don''t care about money. I know what I really need."

    Alam, sensing her desire, asked, "What''s your motivation?"

    Baihu''s response was a mix of power and vulnerability. "I lead the Garuda Legion, but sometimes I want to be more than just a commander. You can give me what my men can''t."

    Alam, nodded. "Your soldiers can''t give you what you truly desire, only me."

    Baihu, her excitement growing, whispered, "Exactly. I feel powerful commanding my forces, but sometimes I just want to feel weak."

    Alam,  suggested, "Let''s find somewhere private."

    Baihu, blushing and giggling, agreed. "Yes, let''s find a place where it''s just you and me."

    Alam, taking her hand, asked, "Show me your favorite place."

    Baihu, her blush deepening, whispered, "I want to bring you to my bedroom, a place where no one can hear us."

    Alam, playing along, responded, "Sounds good."

    Baihu, her excitement palpable, whispered, "I''m sure you''re already excited. But before we go there, I need to make sure you''re the right person for me."

    She stopped, placing her hands on Alam''s chest. "Are you a good person? Can you treat a woman right? Can you promise to satisfy me?"

    Alam, with a thoughtful response, said, "I can bring you something beyond lust¡ªlove."

    Baihu, impressed, whispered, "Love? I didn''t expect that from you. But how can you ensure this ''love'' isn''t just a disguise for your lust?"

    Alam, with a gentle tone, suggested, "Let''s take it slow, and you''ll see if I''m the right man for you."

    Baihu, her blush deepening, whispered, "I like that idea. Take it slow, and I''ll be the judge. But remember, once you''re with me, there''s no going back."

    Alam, with a teasing smile, changed the subject. "Let''s not be possessive. Actually, I''ve changed my mind. Show me your geothermal stuff first."

    Baihu, surprised but amused, agreed. "You''re quite the tease. I like that. Come, let me show you our geothermal power source."

    As they walked through the long tunnel, Baihu''s body brushed against Alam''s, her whisper hot and tempting. "I bet you can''t wait to see my geothermal toy. How would you feel if I did something to you before you see it?"

    Alam, feeling the heat, wiped his sweat. "Is it just me, or is it getting hotter in here?"

    Baihu, her laughter soft, whispered, "The temperature here is always hot, but it''s only getting hotter with you around." She slowed her pace, her body close to Alam''s. "I might need to show you some ''warmth'' now."

    Alam, caught in the moment, responded, "Yeah..."

    Baihu, her voice a sultry promise, whispered, "I can see the heat overtaking you. Let me take care of it." She stepped closer, her whisper a tantalizing offer. "Would you let this hot lady take care of the heat inside you?"

    Alam, with a playful retort, said, "No, not you¡ªthis tunnel is just too hot."

    Baihu giggles again, her voice laced with playful insinuation. "Oh, so the tunnel is hot itself, huh? But you''re here with me, alone with me in this hot tunnel. A guy and a girl, alone in an enclosed place." She whispers, her breath hot against Alam''s ear, "Are you sure you''re not thinking about something more than just the tunnel heat?"

    Alam, trying to maintain his composure, shushes her. "Just hold your horse till we see the stuff."

    Baihu giggles at Alam''s response, her voice a sultry promise. "Well, just like you wish. I will hold on to my horse. But remember... the moment we reach my geothermal plant... the moment you lay your eyes on it... I can''t hold my horse anymore..."

    The tunnel slowly widens as they approach the geothermal plant, the temperature rising. Baihu''s voice is filled with anticipation. "Well, we''re getting closer... we should soon reach the geothermal plant..."

    Alam, impressed, asks, "Wow, so you manage to extract the power? But how do you use it for weapons?"

    Baihu smiled, her voice dripping with pride as she leaned closer. ¡°Yes, we¡¯ve mastered extracting the immense power of geothermal energy here. We use it for weapons, defense, and even for brewing the best coffee in Central Asia. Basically, this geothermal powerhouse is the backbone of our civilization!¡± She paused for dramatic effect, then added with a wink, ¡°But enough about our geothermal prowess; let me show you the real magic.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Alam replied, trying not to sound too eager.

    With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Baihu took his hand and quickened their pace like they were racing toward a theme park. ¡°You¡¯re so patient, Alam. I like that in a man. Most guys want it right away, but you¡ªoh, you¡¯re different. How long can you be patient?¡±

    Alam forced smile,start to irritated with her constant flirting ¡°Well, only Gott knows. But I¡¯m willing to find out.¡±

    Baihu halted, her face inches from his, a smirk playing on her lips. ¡°If only God knows, then maybe I should take matters into my own hands.¡± She leaned in, her breath warm against his neck. ¡°Shall I test your patience?¡±

    ¡°Shh,¡± Alam replied, trying to focus as they stepped through a heavy metal door, the air hitting them like a furnace blast, thick with heat and the clanging of machinery.. Baihu led him through a maze of tunnels, pointing out the intricate workings of the geothermal system.Finally, they reached a glass protector and terminal. Baihu pressed a button, and the protective cover hissed open, like a veil being drawn back from a window into hell.

    A fiery glow spilled out, illuminating Baihu¡¯s face in a harsh, orange light. The air roared with the sound of escaping steam.  Massive tubes, filled with surging lava, stretched from floor to ceiling, the heat radiating outwards in palpable waves, held back only by the fragile barrier of glass and the swirling, ever-present steam that shrouded the scene in an eerie, otherworldly haze.

    the lava surging and seething behind a thick glass barrier, the power of the machine radiating outwards,the sight make his heart thumping hard. This was not just a weapon. This was a force of nature

 Chapter 26 Turkestan Gangster

    Just as Alam started examining a thermal machine,

    Baihu leaned in, her voice sultry. ¡°I can tell you¡¯re way too excited right now¡­ so I think I should punish you for it.¡± She leaned even closer, her tone playful, ¡°Do you want to feel my punishment?¡±

    ¡°Whoa, this isn¡¯t that kind of deal!¡± Alam chuckled,he trying to hide his emotion. and  patting her head. ¡°But hey, tell me your story.¡±

    Surprised by the gesture, Baihu giggled, leaning into his touch. ¡°Aww, thanks for that! My story? Well, what do you want to know?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with how a woman like you ended up leading an army in a foreign land.¡±

    Baihu¡¯s eyes sparkled with pride. ¡°You find it surprising that a woman can lead men in battle? Isn¡¯t that adorable?¡± She whispered, ¡°It¡¯s not easy, you know. Many doubt my abilities just because I¡¯m a woman. But I¡¯m smart and skilled, and I¡¯ll prove them wrong!¡±

    ¡°Sounds like you climbed the ranks,¡± Alam said, intrigued.

    ¡°Oh, I did! My journey wasn¡¯t a walk in the park. Being a woman in command isn¡¯t a cakewalk. But I¡¯m here to show everyone that we can kick just as much butt as the boys!¡± She leaned in, her voice low. ¡°But do you really think a man could do a better job than me?¡±

    Alam, amused, replied, ¡°Well, men and women are equal in mind¡­¡±

    Baihu giggled, her whisper teasing. ¡°That¡¯s true! But our biology gives us unique advantages. So, are you okay with the fact that you¡¯re chatting with a female General? Does it bother you?¡±

    ¡°Not at all,¡± Alam replied, ¡°But what¡¯s your relationship like with other mercs?¡±

    With a deep breath, Baihu smiled and said, ¡°We keep close ties with most merc groups in Central Asia. We¡¯ve got our competition, of course, but we maintain a cordial relationship. What about you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got strong connections with the European mercs. But what do you think about the Blood Khaganate and the Red Nation?¡±

    Baihu¡¯s expression sobered. ¡°The Blood Khaganate? They¡¯re one of our top adversaries in Central Asia. Their military strength is nothing to sneeze at. When we meet them in battle, it¡¯s always a bloodbath.¡± She paused, then added, ¡°And the Red Nation? They¡¯re our main enemy, armed to the teeth with advanced technology.¡±

    ¡°Do you have plans to ally with anyone to take them down?¡± Alam asked, curiosity piqued.

    Baihu hesitated, weighing her words. ¡°I¡¯m open to temporary alliances with any merc groups, as long as they share our common enemy and our partnership isn¡¯t forever.¡± She leaned in, lowering her voice. ¡°But there¡¯s one group I won¡¯t ally with¡­¡±

    Alam leaned in, eager. ¡°Who, and why?¡±

    ¡°Flying Dragon,¡± she whispered, her voice laced with caution. ¡°Led by the infamous Dragon Master. They¡¯re the most brutal and feared mercenary group in Central Asia. Nobody wants to mess with them. But if we could take them down, our path would be much clearer.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Alam said, intrigued by this new player. ¡°What do you think of the Wanderers?¡±

    Baihu¡¯s interest was piqued. ¡°The Wanderers? They¡¯re a mystery! They show up when it¡¯s critical and vanish like magic. Do you know more about them?¡±

    Alam decided it was time to drop the mask. ¡°I¡¯m actually one of them. My mission is to stop the Blood Khaganate.¡±

    Baihu¡¯s eyes widened in shock. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re a Wanderer? They¡¯re the most enigmatic mercs around! So, you¡¯re here to stop the Blood Khaganate too? But why not protect Central Asia?¡±

    Alam grinned, seizing the moment. ¡°How about we swap some tech for an alliance? We can team up to take down the Blood Khaganate together.¡±

    Baihu eyed Alam, her expression a mix of intrigue and caution. She toyed with a strand of her hair, a thoughtful silence filling the room. Finally, she nodded, a slow, calculating smile spreading across her lips. "A temporary alliance, you say? To eliminate the Blood Khaganate?" Her voice was low, almost a whisper. "Perhaps... But once the dust settles, we''ll each pursue our own goals."

    ¡°Deal!¡± Alam exclaimed,. ¡°But here¡¯s the kicker: if I¡¯m working with you, I can¡¯t ally with the Flying Dragon¡±

    Baihu¡¯s smile widened, clearly enjoying the banter. ¡°You¡¯re really into this, huh? The Flying Dragon¡¯s base is in Hong Kong, and their strength? Well, it¡¯s a mystery wrapped in an enigma. They take on any client with cash, and their numbers? Just as cloudy as my morning coffee!¡±

    Alam chimed in. ¡°I¡¯m planning to visit other mercs to build my power base and form alliances.¡±

    Baihu nodded enthusiastically. ¡°I¡¯ll be doing the same! Once the Blood Khaganate is history, I¡¯ll be expanding my mercenary empire. Let¡¯s rally the troops for our temporary alliance!¡±

    Alam extended his hand, beaming. ¡°Alright, darling. I¡¯m Alam.¡±

    Baihu took his hand, shaking it with a flirtatious twinkle in her eye. ¡°Pleasure to strike a deal with you, Alam. Can I call you by your first name?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely! You can throw in ¡®sweetie,¡¯ ¡®dear,¡¯ or even ¡®honey¡¯ if you like,¡± Alam replied with a playful grin. ¡°And after this chaos, I¡¯ll gladly make a lot of love with you.¡±

    Baihu blushed, leaning in closer, her voice a sultry whisper. ¡°Oh really? You want to make love with me? Well, since you¡¯re being so open, let me be open too. When this chaos is over, I want to feel your warm touch¡­¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright, let¡¯s not get too carried away,¡± Alam chuckled, redirecting the conversation. ¡°Shall we do some paperwork first?¡±

    Baihu nodded, following him with a mischievous smile. ¡°Of course! Let¡¯s finish the formalities¡­ hehe¡­¡±

    After, that they leave the geothermal machinery complex. and go to surface, and like after what felt like an eternity of paperwork and treaties, Alam announced, ¡°Well, dear, I need to report back to my base soon.¡±

    Baihu glanced at the clock, surprised. ¡°Oh my, it¡¯s already late? I didn¡¯t even notice we spent hours on paperwork!¡± She giggled, ¡°Well, it seems it¡¯s time to wrap things up. But before we go, can I ask you something?¡±

    Alam leaned in, gently kissing her hand. ¡°Shh, is that enough? Hehe.¡±

    Baihu, blushing, couldn¡¯t help but grin. ¡°I guess that¡¯s enough for now¡­ But tell me, do you want to go somewhere else? Maybe somewhere more¡­ private?¡±

    ¡°Shh, I¡¯m still on a mission, dear,¡± Alam said, keeping his focus. ¡°Maybe later, but thanks¡±

    Baihu sighed, understanding. ¡°Ah, I see¡­ Well, maybe next time¡­¡±

    As a parting gift, Alam removed his sword and handed it to her. ¡°This is a sign of our relationship. If you miss me, just hug it, hehe.¡±

    Baihu¡¯s eyes sparkled with surprise. ¡°Are you sure you want to give me your sword? Because I won¡¯t give it back¡­ I might just hug it¡­ or kiss it too¡­¡±

    Alam chuckled, patting her head one last time. ¡°Alright, see you later!¡±

    Baihu waved softly, her voice sweet. ¡°Farewell, my honey¡­ I will wait for your return¡­¡±

    Alam pushed the memory of Baihu''s flirtations aside. This was business. He had an alliance to forge and a war to win. Personal matters would have to wait."Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Meanwhile, Baihu was busy expanding her empire, knowing she had backup. The Khaganate forces on her border turned to ash under her relentless tactics. Had Alam just unleashed a new monster on this powder keg, or would this alliance truly bring an end to the chaos?

    In a different realm, a town plastered with military posters touting freedom, glory, and family was buzzing with activity. The Blood Khaganate¡¯s flag waved proudly, while officers donned animal horned helmets mixed with high-tech exosuits. Their soldiers, armed with rusty bolt-action rifles and simple SMGs, looked like a bizarre mash-up of WWII Japan and the Mongol horde, complete with skull-decorated tanks and camel-mounted mortars.

    Among the men, three figures stand at the front of the parade. A woman in black ornamented attire speaks, "We must attack before Zion arrives. That is the only way we maintain our autonomy." A man beside her, with a scar on his eye from shrapnel, responds, "We don''t have the numbers again. Defense is the art of victory." A man in the center, with black hair on his wrinkle-free face, declares, "We must prioritize our army to defeat the traitor first. Alam must fall; he is only a symbol of resistance. If he goes down, all opposition will lose cohesion." The other two nodded in agreement, plotting their next move against the chaotic forces of Alam and Baihu.

    in current asia map. its was full of rainbows. in left corner. wanderer set foot the there. and in east siberia, china and mongol. the khaganate is dominate all. while smaller faction like Garuda Legion, in south of wanderer. alam and baihu now are in convinient position.

    other than red nation. there is other major nation who playing complicated game of chest on the eastern wasteland.

    in south. there is a purple nation, at bellow corner of west map. just at edge of himalayan mountains.

    other than that is was other factions of scavangers, tribes, and city-states ruled by warlords ¨C the usual wasteland fare.

    As the Wanderers set out to expand into the eastern wasteland, they rolled out in a mobile base that looked like a train of trailers. It was equipped with water tanks and living quarters, making it a cozy little home on wheels. Bikers zipped around, scouting ahead, while drones buzzed overhead, keeping an eye on the terrain. The air was dry, and during the day, it could get scorching hot, but at night, the temperature dropped, leaving them shivering under the stars.

    After a while, they reached a cliff area with high, uneven terrain. The landscape was dotted with plateaus, shaped by erosion and earthquakes, revealing a maze of reddish-brown earth that surrounded the Altai Mountains. It was a stunning sight, but they had to stay focused on their mission.

    Then, out of nowhere, they encountered a bipedal traveler merchant. This guy was something else¡ªhe was using a giant robot to scale the cliffs and jump around like it was no big deal. It was an epic sight to behold! At first, the merchant tried to avoid the Wanderer convoy, but after some convincing, he decided to chat.

    The merchant ended up selling them a map and some cool elastic textile that could fit anyone¡¯s body, perfect for avoiding radiation He mentioned there was this tech hub down south, run by these "tech brahmins," a trade spot in the middle of the desert that was the source of these suits. The merchant also warned them that the usual trails were crawling with warlords and bandits shaking down travelers for passage money. He said the only way to avoid them was to take the robot-only routes.

    The Wanderers stocked up on supplies, mostly food boxes filled with grains that could be turned into a soup-like dish. To make it more appetizing, they added some aroma and ingredients to spice things up. It was clear that the eastern wasteland wasn¡¯t just an empty stretch of desert; it was a complex labyrinth, and the Wanderers were gearing up for the journey ahead.

    baihu and alam now fierce duo. start they expension for open path and gather resource to defeat the flying dragon. in tip of other side of map.

    first alam baihu victim was a The Syr Darya Scavengers, led by the ruthless Scrap Queen, scavenged the ruins of old Soviet cities, preying on anyone foolish enough to cross their path, especially those with cybernetic implants

    . they rob and mutilated their victim for money. but they are disorginized. alam wanderers just act as refuge, for bait. and the queen herself confront them. her dark skin is illuminated from glint of desert light, she waring purple grab. and her left eyes are had eyepatch implant to able to see the person had implant or not. baihu then reveal herself from the rugged cloak and just slung to the scrap queen. followed by wanderers, and guruda legion. after baihu brutal swift move. she manage behead the scrap queen. then their entire territory is annexed.

    Next stop south: The Vanara Vanguard. These guys were nimble mountain tribesmen, basically monkey warriors inspired by the Ramayana. Think guerrilla tactics and archery, The Vanara Vanguard''s explosive arrows rained down, catching the Wanderers off guard. Alam deployed his drones, their camera eyes pinpointing the archers'' hidden positions. The counter-attack was swift and brutal, but the Vanara were elusive, disappearing as quickly as they appeared.

    . until alam is tired and just used rocket launcher. one lucky shot created avalance. and make vanara guard took heavy casualties. now they subdued for alam role. their leader offer his golden bow act of submission,

    Finally, they pushed towards the center of the map and ran into the Cyber-Brahmins. These guys were tech-savvy engineers, survivors from India, using salvaged robots to rebuild. But here¡¯s the kicker: Khaganate assassins sabotaged Alam¡¯s tech. Major setback. He¡¯d have to head back to Europe for more mechanics and tech support.

    With the East under new management, the Wanderers geared up for a westward trek across the Central Asian steppes. It was a brutal slog, the sun a relentless hammer, but they pushed on.

    Days later, their makeshift convoy ¨C part armored truck, part mobile home ¨C rolled into the Cyber-Brahmins'' scrap city. Where there¡¯d been nothing but sand before, now stood a buzzing hive of tech, a testament to the ingenuity of some surviving Indian engineers. Robots of all shapes and sizes bustled about, working and guarding, the whole place humming with repurposed tech.

    Alam, figuring they weren¡¯t hostile, hopped off his ride, strolling through the city with his crew close behind. Baihu, meanwhile, was off doing her own thing.

    "Damn impressive," Alam muttered, watching a robot zoom past. "These guys really made this wasteland their own."

    He wandered over to what looked like a bar. Behind the counter, a clunky but kinda charming robot with a vaguely human shape gave him a nod.

    "Greetings, human," it said, voice all synthesized and polite. "How can I help you?"

    Alam chuckled. "At least you sound like a proper robot. So, what''s on tap?"

    The robot¡¯s head tilted slightly, a whirring sound replacing a laugh. "Plenty. What''s your poison?"

    Alam glanced back at his crew, who shook their heads. "Coffee for me," he told the robot.

    "Coming right up." The robot got to work, its movements quick and precise. A few seconds later, a steaming cup was in Alam¡¯s hand. "Enjoy."

    thanks.. "alam take a sip" mhhm. you know. in otherside of the world.. if people see robot working usual work. they will mad. because a iron steal their job. hehe

    The robot nods, its metal face looking surprisingly earnest. "Yeah, I get the irony. Used to be everyone worried we''d steal their jobs. Now we are the jobs." Its eyes flicker, like it''s doing a quick system check.

    Alam rubs his chin. "So¡­ this scrap town¡­ got a boss or somethin''?"

    The robot bartender tilts its head. "Yeah, the Techno-Priest. Runs the show around here." It gives Alam the once-over.

    "Can I meet this dude?" Alam ask

    The robot nods again. "Sure, I can set that up. He''s over in the Eastern quadrant right now." It gestures for Alam and his crew to follow, heading down a narrow alley between scrap metal towers.

    Alam but the ask"...Hold up. You''re just¡­ leavin'' your bar? You could just tell me how to get there."

    The robot stops, a faint metallic smile appearing on its face. "Could do. But getting to the Techno-Priest ain''t exactly a walk in the park. You''d hit a ton of security checkpoints. Faster if I tag along. Plus, keeps you from getting flagged and locked up."

    Alam nod "Fair enough."

    The robot nods and keeps leading them through the scrap city. Other robots give them the side-eye as they pass. They finally reach a big, reinforced building in the middle of the junkyard, surrounded by guards and drones.

    "Techno-Priest''s digs," the robot says, pointing at the building. "I''ll let the guards know you''re here."

    Alam eyes darted on his surounding "Cool."

    The robot walks over to the guards, beeping and clicking, explaining the situation. After a quick exchange, the heavy door slides open, revealing a surprisingly fancy interior with soft lighting.

    "Go on in," the robot says, gesturing to the entrance. "He''s expecting ya."

    Alam and his crew step inside. The place is a weird mix of scrap and wires. Dim lights highlight the mechanical junk lining the walls. Definitely Techno-Priest HQ.

    They walk down some twisty hallways and reach a huge, locked door at the end. Two big security robots with glowing red eyes block their path.

    Alam shifted uncomfortably. "Damn¡­ I miss humans."

    The security robots scanned Alam and his crew, whirring and clicking. After a beat, they apparently decided these guys weren''t worth the trouble, and the heavy door hissed open.

    Inside was like some kind of high-tech temple, all circles and smooth metal. At the center stood the Techno-Priest, half-man, half-machine, blending right in. His voice, though robotic, was deep and serious.

    "Greetings, travelers," he droned, his metal eyes sweeping over them. "I have been expecting you. State your purpose."

    Alam stepped forward. "Yeah, I''m Alam, leader of the Wanderers. We''re heading to Hong Kong to take down the Flying Dragon. We need to cut through your scrap city to bypass the Khaganate. So, we''re asking for military access."

    The Techno-Priest gave a slow nod, his metal face blank as a screen. The robot guards stood still, their red lights blinking.

    "The Flying Dragon," he said, his voice echoing softly. "A formidable foe. And you seek passage through our territory?"

    Alam nodded, his expression stoic. "Yep. I noticed this region is... more like a hub. So I don''t plan to conquer the place. Because it''s counterproductive to our trade... policy."

    The Techno-Priest nodded again, the whirring of his internal mechanisms the only sound in the otherwise silent chamber. The security robots remained motionless, their optical sensors fixed on Alam.

    "Interesting," he said, his metallic voice devoid of inflection. "You do not seek to conquer territory, but rather to utilize it as a passage for your own purposes. A pragmatic approach indeed."

    "Yep," Alam repeated, meeting the Techno-Priest''s gaze.

    The Techno-Priest¡¯s head tilted slightly, a barely perceptible movement that sent a shiver down Alam''s spine. A faint red light pulsed within the Priest''s visor as if some internal process was analyzing him. The silence stretched, each second amplifying the tension. The air grew heavy, the only sound the low hum of the surrounding machinery. After an agonizing half-minute, the red light flickered and died.

    "Very well," the Techno-Priest finally spoke, the flat tone returning. "You have military access. You may pass through our territory to bypass the Khaganate."

    "Thanks," Alam said. "Quick question. How many¡­ actual people are here? I''m mostly seeing robots."

    The Techno-Priest nodded, a light flickering through his metal body. "You are correct. Robots are the majority here. There are a few human survivors, but they are few."

    "Right," Alam said. "So¡­ how did a robot city even happen?"

    The Techno-Priest''s voice softened a bit.

    "This city was founded by human survivors after the¡­ troubles. The robots were built to help them. But over time, the humans dwindled, and the robots took over running things. Now, it¡¯s pretty much all them."

    "Got it," Alam said. "So, while we''re here, can we, like, recruit some of your¡­ population?"

    The Techno-Priest considered this, his metal eyes blinking. After a pause, he said,

    "You may recruit those who are willing. But I must warn you, they are accustomed to their way of life. They may not be eager to join your cause."

    "No worries," Alam said. "Alright, guess that''s it then. Farewell."

    The Techno-Priest dipped his head in a robotic nod.

    "Farewell, and good luck on your journey. May your path to Hong Kong be swift and safe."

    just that, alam then manage to able to recruit extra technican and mekanic. even a group of hacker from scrap city. he just sell the golden bow from Vanara leader and other mechanical limb from the scrap queen in the city.

    The golden bow from the Vanara leader and the scavenged cybernetics from the Scrap Queen were quickly converted into resources, fueling his war machine. He glanced at the map, his gaze settling on the eastern edge. The Flying Dragon. Then the Blood Khaganate. The Red Nation¡­ that was a problem for another day. For now, he had a path forward.

 Chapter 27 Flying dragon

    road to flying dragon is open. but alam learn if blood khaganate is will not just let alam expand effortly. and they are still capable for attacking. so with their new resources. they build new base. a land between asia to europe.

    at march 2401 at the new Wanderer base in the Caucasus

    Nestled among the craggy peaks of the Caucasus mountains, the heavily fortified complex is surrounded by high walls and anti-aircraft turrets. Some sections are carved into the mountain itself, while others are still under construction.

    The air buzzed with tension as Alam sat at a holographic table, He glared at the chaotic political map of Central Asia, noting how various mercenary factions were throwing punches at each other like it was a street brawl. Despite his shiny new alliance with the Garuda mercenaries, some smaller factions still resisted uniting.

    "Damn those mercs,"Every time we engage in battle, I wonder if we¡¯re truly fighting for a cause or just perpetuating a cycle of violence. Is there a way to achieve peace without bloodshed, or are we doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past?" Alam grumbled. "Alright, gentlemen and brave woman, let¡¯s take care of the local mercs first. Any initiative to secure this region?"

    Eleanor, a blonde woman, stepped forward. "Yes, sir! I have a message from the central agency." She opened a communique.

    The message read: "The situation is evolving rapidly. The Red Nation has decided to deploy the first wave of their mercs troops to Central Asia and a massive naval fleet towards Europe within the next week. Yellow nation in europa and various North American nations have mobilized and are engaging their own troops. The possibility of global conflict is now very high. They advise us to be alert and ready in case of any events. The ball is in your court."

    Alam nodded, a grin creeping across his face. "Great! They¡¯ll probably clear the road first by taking drastic measures against the smaller factions. Zhang, Mei, and Li time to shine!"

    Eleanor exited stage left while the three generals stayed behind, eager to share their pearls of wisdom. Zhang, dressed in traditional Chinese garb, stepped forward. "A grand strategy, if I may?" he suggested. Alam leaned back in his chair, gesturing for him to continue.

    "Go for it, General Zhang. We''re all ears." Zhang nodded and began to outline his plan. "The situation in Central Asia is volatile. We should unite these groups under one banner. Pooling resources could effectively build a strong front against the Red Nation¡¯s expansion. The real challenge will be convincing them to cooperate, but with your leadership, I believe it¡¯s possible."

    "Yes, let¡¯s do that. Your methodical approach works well for the northern mercs; they¡¯re bold but not too bright. Agents Li and Mei can handle the smaller factions in the central and southern regions," Alam agreed, feeling like a coach prepping for the championship game.

    Zhang nodded, pleased. Mei, in a striking crimson dress, raised an eyebrow. "What if the Red Nation succeeds in the first phase in Central Asia? What¡¯s next on their agenda?"

    "Probably whole asia or Europe. Central Asia is just a stepping stone. But we won¡¯t let that happen!" Alam declared,

    Li, the tattooed muscle of the group, chimed in, "Sir, the Red Nation is still strong, and we have limited time. I have some thoughts on our next phase. Can I share my brilliant idea?"

    "Go ahead, Li. We¡¯re all ears," Alam said, glancing at the maps

    Li revealed several advanced maps, showcasing strategic data for the entire region. "We need to strike hard and fast on multiple fronts, disrupting enemy supply lines and morale. By dividing our forces, we can achieve strategic surprise and force them to spread their firepower thin."

    "Excellent! We have the home advantage. We¡¯ve been operating here since the dawn of civilization. Now, my brave soldiers, are you ready?" Alam asked, channeling his inner motivational speaker.

    "Yes, sir! Ready to get this party started!" Li declared.

    "Absolutely! Ready to show them what we¡¯ve got!" Zhang added.

    "Yes, sir! We¡¯ll protect the region no matter what!" Mei proclaimed.

    "Good! Dismissed. Gott bless," Alam concluded,

    As the trio left, Alam sighed heavily. "Hm, hm... I should probably check in with Carmelita." He activated the intercom. "Hey, I¡¯m using your best hands¡ªZhang, Mei, and Li. Hope I¡¯m not burning through our aces too soon."

    Carmelita¡¯s voice crackled through. "Copy that, master. Sending them your way. Anything specific you want them to tackle?"

    "Just unite the region first. Fill me in on their backgrounds, will you?" Alam requested, feeling like he was about to meet the Avengers.

    "Mei is a cunning spy and negotiator¡ªexpert at infiltration and manipulation. She¡¯s a master of subterfuge," she continued.

    "And Li?" Alam asked, intrigued.

    Carmelita paused. "Ah, Li¡­ He¡¯s an elite assassin and close-combat specialist. Known for his ruthless techniques, he¡¯s a fighter through and through."

    "Aha! Classic! Where did you find these talented officers?" Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

    "I recruited them myself. I have a knack for finding talent and maximizing potential. In fact, I¡¯m working on recruiting more officers for the Wanderer. But that¡¯s a tale for another time..." Carmelita teased.

    "I see... Very well. I have things to do. See you later, dear," Alam said,

    "Of course, sir. See you later," she replied, cutting the comm.

    Alam took a deep breath, staring at the swirling maps. "Time to win this war."

    In april 2401, Alam kicked off his recruitment drive, gathering allies and troops from a diverse mix of backgrounds¡ªnot just tribal warriors, but mercenaries from across Europe and Asia. When war rages, the soldiers of fortune come out to play.

    One day, Alam sat in his office, eagerly awaiting updates from his trio.

    "Hello, Three Kingdoms. Heh... Looks like I¡¯m in for some good news," Alam said with a grin.

    The trio reported in one by one.

    Li started, "Our progress was great, sir. We managed to sneak into their military base and snag some crucial intel."

    Zhang chimed in, "It was a solid success. We got detailed reports on enemy troop placements and equipment. This will be a huge help in our campaign against the Blood Khaganate."

    Mei wrapped it up, "We even captured and rescued some wounded enemies."

    "I hope you didn¡¯t cause too much chaos. Heh," Alam replied, flipping through the intel. He was surprised by the wealth of information they had gathered¡ªfrom troop placements to military tactics. Now, they just needed to wait for the spy report from the Flying Dragon before making their move.

    "You guys did a great job... but I¡¯m kinda tired of all this war. What do you suggest?" Alam asked.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Li was quick to respond, "Well, I think we should prep our troops and gear for the next phase of our campaign. While we¡¯re at it, let¡¯s send out more spies to gather intel. We need to make sure our troops are well-trained and ready before we head into enemy territory."

    "So, no options besides bloodshed?" Alam pressed.

    Li hesitated before answering, "Unfortunately, yes. We¡¯re fighting for survival here; peace talks with the Blood Khaganate aren¡¯t on the table. The fighting will keep going until one side wins. But if you¡¯re really worn out by the war, I think there¡¯s one option we can consider."

    "Alright, let¡¯s hit the Flying Dragon hard. Block any possible escape routes. We¡¯ll start with a bang. Our new ally from the Garuda mercs has a surprise for us," Alam decided.

    Li nodded in agreement. Zhang then added, "The Garuda mercs have indeed provided us with a new toy for this campaign¡ªa stealth bomber called the X-80. this boy is charged by geo thermal energy instead expensive jet fuel"

    "The X-80 is a cutting-edge stealth bomber with advanced camouflage. It has a long range, a powerful engine, and can easily evade radar detection. Plus, it packs heavy firepower to support our ground forces," Zhang continued.

    " Flying Dragon''s base is located at the edge of Hong Kong. It''s a heavily fortified base with many layers of defense and is also protected by strong anti-aircraft weapons. Therefore, it''s necessary for the X-80 to hit first and strike their powerful anti-aircraft weapons first. Afterward, our ground forces can strike their base without much resistance," Zhang explains.

    "Okay... Wait, is their base surrounded by a residential area?" Alam asks.

    Zhang pauses before answering, "According to our intelligence report, yes. The Flying Dragon''s base is located inside a residential area close to ancient metropolis of Hong Kong. Therefore, we must exercise maximum caution to minimize collateral damage in the upcoming battle. Any further collateral damage in the residential area will not be tolerated."

    Alam shakes his head. "We need to transfer our troops first. Relocate them as refugees to infiltrate the residential area. Make them familiar with the location so we can avoid miscoordination during the main attack."

    Zhang nods in agreement. "Yes, that''s a great idea. The refugees can familiarize themselves with the location, and the residents can help guide our troops in the upcoming battle. Our troops can easily disguise as refugees without much suspicion. It will definitely minimize collateral damage to civilians."

    Alam chuckles. "Yeah, good. Meanwhile, let''s do some spying first... Mweheheh..."

    After spinning his chair, Alam continued, "Alright, Zhang, you¡¯re on supply chain duty. Mei and Li, make sure our troops'' disguises stay under wraps from the Flying Dragon. Sabotage, assassination¡ªwhatever it takes to keep our movements secret."

    Mei chimed in, "I¡¯ll team up with Li to cover our troops. We¡¯ll blend in with the civilians and make sure no one notices us. We¡¯ll do our best to avoid collateral damage."

    Alam nodded. "Exactly. To make our refugee ruse work, we can spread some fake news too. You guys are pros at this."

    Li and Mei exchanged glances, agreeing that spreading fake news to mask their presence was a solid plan. "Right, we can spread rumors about our troops being refugees and create some fake stories to keep the Flying Dragon from catching on," Li added.

    Alam declared, "Good. Operation Take Down Flying Dragon starts now!"

    After WW3, when local governments collapsed, a street gang called the Flying Dragon rose to power, acting like warlords. They quickly took out local gangs and rogue generals, declaring themselves the rulers of Hong Kong. In this cyberpunk-like city, the police and military were just extensions of the Flying Dragon''s power. Defeating them would mean capturing the entire region, but if Alam fell to them, the backlash would be severe. In this land, reputation is everything; if the locals see weakness in their leader, they¡¯ll stop believing in him.

    Alam monitored the mission''s progress. It was a long game, requiring patience. Li, using his sick kung fu skills, had earned the respect of local residents by taking down neighborhood bully gangs, granting him access to strategic locations. Mei, through carefully cultivated charm, had seduced a high-ranking Flying Dragon member, extracting crucial intel before discarding him at sea. Meanwhile, Zhang had established a legitimate front¡ªa local meat shop¡ªto smuggle weapons and equipment. Alam prepared to observe their combined efforts.

    He gathered his allies and established HQ near Hong Kong to prepare for the main assault. The trio''s operations were nearing completion. They had conducted sabotage, assassinated key Flying Dragon personnel, and spread disinformation about their activities in China.

    Hong Kong was a walled city of concrete skyscrapers. A dam-like structure between the buildings separated the inner city from the rising sea. The city was a cyberpunk metropolis of towering structures, neon lights, and aerial tramways, with Flying Dragon members present throughout.

    With ground forces ready and supplies secured, the counter-offensive against the Flying Dragon was about to begin¡ªpotentially the final stage of the conflict.

    Alam broadcasted over the radio to all members, "Alright, everyone... May Gott help us... There¡¯s going to be a fire. The all-out attack will kick off after the air strike. Make sure everything¡¯s ready."

    His message reached all soldiers and mercenaries across Central Asia. With the warning of "there will be a fire" and the code for the "all-out attack," everyone knew the counter-offensive was about to begin.

    Suddenly, the roar of aircraft engines filled the air. An air strike commenced, with the X-80 stealth bomber launching missiles at the Flying Dragon''s strong points. As the missiles rained down, the ground forces moved into position, ready for the attack.

    Alam goes outside to the balcony to see the direction of the Flying Dragon''s base. He sees fire and explosions at the base. The missiles from the X-80 stealth bomber are already dropping down, causing great damage to the Flying Dragon''s equipment and facilities.

    The ground force has already reached their position and starts attack against the Flying Dragon''s forces. It''s chaos with fire, explosions, shooting, and shouting all around. Everything seems chaotic, but Alam can feel victory is near.

    Alam rubs his forehead. "Well, what do you think?" he asks Eleanor, who is beside him. "Should I play music like Nero did when Rome was burning?"

    Eleanor laughs at Alam''s joke. But despite her laughter, she can sense deep worry on Alam''s face. He seems quite stressed about the operation and yet tries to hide it. But she can tell Alam is struggling.

    "Well, there''s no need for that. Just sit back and relax. Everything seems to be going according to our plan. The trio''s operation was successful, and the counter-offensive has finally begun. Everything should be going well," Eleanor reassures him.

    Alam sighs. "I see... I can''t relax. I was a field soldier. I can only relax when I join my men."

    Eleanor smiles, comforting Alam as she touches his back. "I understand. But you don''t have to do that. You are no longer a field soldier. You are now a general, and a general must do everything behind the scenes. Just trust your soldiers and your fellow generals to carry out your plan. Your job now is to just watch over the situation while doing some small management. You have made the plan and put everything into order. Everything should go according to your plan. Just relax."

    Alam takes a seat and listens to the radio chatter. It''s hectic, with everyone shouting and reporting situations, asking for orders. But Alam can hear that the situation is still under control and going according to plan. The trio''s operation is smooth, with the sabotage and assassination missions almost concluded. The X-80 stealth bomber continues its bombing runs, destroying the Flying Dragon''s equipment and facilities. The ground forces are advancing, closing in on the Flying Dragon''s base as the air strike continues.

    "Alright... I hope they surrender fast. If they have a brain, someone use a speaker to try to talk with their remnants!" Alam orders.

    One of Alam''s soldiers uses a speaker to communicate with the Flying Dragon''s remnants. After a few minutes, another soldier reports.

    "Sir, the Flying Dragon''s leftovers are demanding to speak with you directly. They want to negotiate their surrender," the soldier says.

    "Okay, sure. Connect me," Alam replies.

    The soldier operates the radio to connect Alam with the Flying Dragon''s remnants. After a moment, Alam hears the Flying Dragon''s general speaking.

    "General Alam, we want to negotiate. We have no intention to fight and cause unnecessary loss of life. We want to surrender and join you, in exchange for you sparing our lives and promising us a seat in your army. Are you willing to accept our terms?" the general asks.

    "Good, but your rank is stripped. Rank is only for those who deserve it. Do you accept the terms?" Alam counters.

    "We accept your terms. We don''t mind losing our rank as long as you spare our lives. However, we must ask one more question," the general responds.

    "Yeah, what?" Alam inquires.

    "Will you forgive our wrongdoings in the past? Many of our members have committed crimes against your forces and horrible crimes against civilians throughout Asia. We want to repent for all our crimes," the general says.

    "Don''t worry, I was an ex-war criminal too. Let''s repent together in the new world," Alam reassures.

    "Thank you for your forgiveness, General Alam. Then we agree to join you. Our surrender is total. We will not do any more wrongdoing in your territory. You have a good heart, General," the general says before the radio goes quiet.

    "Sir, the communication has been cut from the Flying Dragon''s side. It seems like they have completely surrendered," the radio operator reports.

    "Good, spare those who surrender. If some are stubborn, just burn the entire building," Alam orders.

    Alam ordered his ground forces to accept surrenders, but some Flying Dragon members fought to the death, even resorting to self-destruction. Hours later, the final report arrived: resistance was fierce.they are now in split. some battle weary member is follow Flying Dragon''s general to surrender. but some stuborn one trying avanging their friends and top member from previous assasination and sabotage, their resolve remaind hight. they fight till their ammo is empty. and using their blades. and wait on the every corner of the possible room. created a dangerous situation every room to room combat. tower to tower, until finally last pocket of stuborn flying dragon made last stand in half burning tower who used as base

    Alam, restless, began donning his armor. "Sorry," he told Eleanor, "my hand''s itching." He headed to the last holdout.

    Arriving at the scene, he found only a handful of remaining fighters. "Give me a grenade launcher," he demanded. A soldier tossed him one, and Alam promptly unleashed a barrage, the explosions obliterating the last vestiges of resistance. He surveyed the scene of burning, tattoo-covered corpses. No strategy, no tactics¡ªjust raw firepower. "Hehe... Now that''s how we finish it," he chuckled his sadistic tendecy is rising up again.

    With the fighting over, Alam declared, "Alright, guys, we win. Take care of the wounded. Grab the loot. The base is ours." He tossed the launcher aside, laughing.

    The base was quickly secured, with the wounded receiving treatment from medics aided by surprisingly advanced local medical technology¡ªlikely salvaged pre-war Chinese tech or imported elsewhere. Despite some casualties, the operation was a success.

    On a distant beach, the crumbling, burning tower of the Flying Dragon cast long shadows across the water. A group of figures stood silhouetted against the flames, their bodies slick with seawater, the waves lapping at their feet. Among them, a woman with a dragon tattoo stared at the flames, tears streaming down her face, but then change into burning with a cold fury. She clutched a scorched piece of fabric, a remnant of the dragon banner "They thought they could erase us. They thought they could extinguish the dragon''s fire. But they were wrong. The fire still burns. And it will consume them all."

 Chapter 28 Operation Ninja

    Fast forward to May 2401. Alam returned to base, the setting sun casting long, shadowy figures across the courtyard. He called a quick meeting with all his officers¡ªfrom tribal leaders like Ali to Wanderer generals like Jax, and Asian generals like Zhang and Baihu, plus the newest general, an ex-gang leader, Xie Zhi-Ming, a man with a tattoo etched like a scar across his left face.

    "Alright, folks," Alam declared, the flickering torchlight in the meeting room dancing on their faces, "we''re building our reputation as the top mercs in this region. But we¡¯re not done yet¡ªthe Blood Khaganate, or Red Nation, will make their move after this."

    He cleared his throat. "If we attack the Blood Khaganate main base, it means cutting ties with the Red Nation. This will escalate things. Any suggestions?" He leaned back in his chair, the worn leather creaking under his weight, his gaze sweeping across the new faces in the base. Most were new, drawn to Alam and his growing influence, especially after the victory over the Flying Dragon.

    The officers debated. Some were all for attacking the Blood Khaganate, while others warned it could be a big mistake. After a brief discussion, an officer in favor of the attack stood up.

    "My name is Xie Zhi-Ming. Attacking the Blood Khaganate will sever our ties with the Red Nation and escalate the conflict, possibly drawing them into the fight. But we must consider that the Blood Khaganate is a major threat in this region and beyond, their dangerous doctrine to reclaim all once mongol empire territory was insane. and they will never stop" Xie Zhi-Ming stated.

    Alam nodded. "I get that. But I want to test our mettle. Who''s in favor of attacking the Blood Khaganate? Raise your hand!"

    Many officers raised their hands, eager to challenge the Blood Khaganate and see how powerful they really were.

    "Good. If we die, we¡¯ll have no regrets..." Alam murmured.

    Xie Zhi-Ming continued, "Since most officers voted for the attack, we should start planning how to execute it. The Blood Khaganate has plenty of units and assets, including tanks and a large number of troops in Central Asia. We need a solid plan to counter them."

    Alam agreed. "Yes, we might be outnumbered, but they¡¯re divided. We can use that to our advantage. From now on, I authorize raids into Blood Khaganate territory to scout their movements."

    "Their mobile units are vulnerable," an officer pointed to a map highlighting supply routes. "Fast strikes, hit and run. We can cripple their logistics."

    Alam traced the routes with his finger. "Prioritize anti-armor. We hit their supply depots hard and fast."

    "Any other suggestions?" Alam asked.

    Another officer stood up. "We should also send our special ops unit deep into Blood Khaganate territory to hit their vital supply, command, intelligence, and communication centers. Disrupting their coordination will make it easier for our main force to strike without much resistance."

    Alam considered this. "More direct raids, huh? But do you realize that going deep into their territory means higher risk? If possible, we can use the same tactic we used before¡ªsending some of our loyal troops as deserters. I heard they¡¯re still recruiting."

    The officer replied, "If we can use that tactic, sending our loyal troops as deserters to infiltrate deep into Blood Khaganate territory would be even better. We should also create fake news and orders to make it look like real commands from the Blood Khaganate. Our infiltrators must be carefully selected and loyal to the mercs. The mission is risky, but the potential gain justifies it."

    Alam chuckled. "Yeah, yeah... I want experienced mercs for the sabotage tasks. But how do we know their loyalty?"

    The officer answered, "We need to conduct background checks and psychological evaluations on all our soldiers to spot any potential bad apples. We must enforce strict discipline and harsh punishments for any traitorous acts. Once the infiltrators pass the checks, their loyalty should be tested with a minor but difficult task. If they pass without any signs of treason, then they can be considered trusted."

    Alam laughed. "Hehe... In the end, we¡¯re kinda forming a royal army, huh? Alright, let¡¯s do it."

    The officer smiled at Alam''s comment. "You''re right! We are indeed forming our own royal army. We must ensure each of our troops is loyal and well-disciplined. The strength of our army lies in our loyalty and discipline. We must crush any sign of treachery with an iron fist."

    Alam nodded. "Okay, now... I¡¯ll name this operation... Operation Ninja."

    Everyone in the meeting laughed at the name.

    "That''s a fitting name for the operation. We must be like ninjas¡ªquick, silent, striking the enemy without being detected. We¡¯ll be like shadows, revealing ourselves only after completing our mission and retreating safely," the officer said.

    Alam grinned. "Yeah, hehe... Alright, any questions?"

    The officers shook their heads, ready to launch the operation and take down the Blood Khaganate, cutting off their supplies and resources. Xie Zhi-Ming wrapped up the meeting and dismissed everyone. Alam then gathered the main command, including his second-in-command and the leader of the special ops unit, to finalize preparations for the operation.

    "Good. Operation Ninja starts now!" Alam announced, a slight smirk playing on his lips. He knew the name was a bit cheesy, but it had a certain¡­ flair.

    Later, after the meeting ended, a lone figure sat hunched over a small notebook. It was Zhang, meticulously jotting down notes.

    The Perfect Destiny, Three Points of Fate:

    <ol>

    <li>This is a Land of Roaming Mercenaries, which means infiltration through assumed identities is more plausible than in a more regulated environment. Showed Refugee Flows and Khaganate Manpower Shortages</li>

    <li>The Wanderers Are Already Established as Elite. This means they would have better training, resources, and discipline than typical mercenary bands, making more complex operations like infiltration and internal checks more feasible.</li>

    <li>Not All Mercenaries Lack Loyalty. While some mercenaries are purely motivated by profit and have no strong allegiances, others are indeed loyal to specific countries, organizations, or leaders, often due to shared ideology, long-term contracts, or personal relationships.</li>

    </ol>

    Zhang tapped his pen against his chin, considering the points. He scribbled something in the corner of the page: ¡°Probability of Success: Elevated (but not guaranteed. This isn¡¯t a fortune cookie).¡±

    Zhang then walked calmly to the training ground, where the elite spec ops qualification was underway. He noticed that the majority of participants were Wanderers, with only a smattering of tribal groups and other mercenaries. He noted in his book: "Wanderers: High morale, battle-ready. Other groups: Enthusiastic, but require¡­ refinement."

    The gamble was made, the die cast. The mercenary band, forged in the fires of global conflict, might leave you wondering how a mere soldier can wield so much power in this world. It¡¯s simple: in this harsh reality, the man with the most weapons and access to trade is treated like a king. That¡¯s why warlords and mafias often hold more sway than traditional rulers.

    Think back to the British and Dutch during the colonial era. They started as merchants in India and Indonesia, but soon became mercenaries, making local populations and rulers dependent on them. Before long, they were more powerful than the Mughal Empire or Indonesian rulers, and we all know how that story goes.

    A few days later, Alam made his way to the Carpathian base, the familiar sights and sounds welcoming him back. As he entered the command center, he spotted Carmelita engrossed in a VR film, her expression a mix of intrigue and skepticism.

    ¡°Hey, woman, do you like the VR film?¡± he called out, a playful grin on his face.

    Carmelita looked up, removing her VR glasses. ¡°Yes, it was quite... intriguing,¡± she replied, her tone revealing a hint of doubt. ¡°It¡¯s certainly a unique take on history and politics.¡± She paused, studying Alam¡¯s face. ¡°But I must say, I have some questions. That Zion character... he¡¯s quite the piece of work, isn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, he is. Reminds me of Pharaoh, you know, the one who chased Moses,¡± Alam replied, leaning against the wall.

    Carmelita nodded, her eyes narrowing as she considered the comparison. ¡°Yes, I can see that. He seems like a modern-day pharaoh, ruling with an iron fist and using violence to enforce his will.¡± She tilted her head, looking thoughtful. ¡°But I have to ask... do you admire him in some way?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. No. He¡¯s driven by desire. People like that, despite their massive influence, seem weak to me,¡± Alam said, crossing his arms.

    Carmelita smiled faintly, pleased by his response. ¡°I agree. People who are driven solely by their desires and ambitions can be weak and vulnerable in other ways. They may have power and influence, but they often lack the wisdom to use it wisely.¡± She studied him for a moment, her gaze intent. ¡°You seem to have a different perspective on things than the rest of us, don¡¯t you?¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Probably. I¡¯ve seen a lot in the world. A dozen near-death experiences make you see things others won¡¯t,¡± Alam replied, shrugging.

    She chuckled, amused by his nonchalance. ¡°Yes, I can imagine that. You must have seen things that would make many people''s knees buckle.¡±

    Carmelita paused, her gaze still on him. ¡°Do you think your experiences have given you a deeper understanding of the world? A different kind of knowledge?¡±

    ¡°No... I just became more aware of my own weaknesses and limitations,¡± Alam admitted, his tone serious.

    She nodded in understanding, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. ¡°Yes, self-awareness is important. Acknowledging one¡¯s own weaknesses is a sign of strength.¡± She leaned back slightly, studying his face. ¡°It''s fascinating, really. You''ve seen so much, experienced things that most people only read about, and yet you remain humble and grounded.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but you and my body will become dust in the next 50 years or in the next 1000 years,¡± Alam said, a hint of dark humor in his voice. ¡°So... nyom nom.¡±

    Carmelita couldn¡¯t help but chuckle, amused by his bluntness. ¡°Ah, the fragility of our existence. Yes, you are right. One day, we will all return to dust and become part of the earth again.¡± She shook her head slightly, a wry smile on her face. ¡°But that¡¯s what makes life so beautiful and worth living, don¡¯t you think? The fact that it is fleeting and precious.¡±

    ¡°Really? Hmm. I think beauty is subjective. My older pieces of art seemed great when I bought or created them, but today, after further examination, they look like pieces of shit,¡± Alam replied, a smirk on his lips.

    She nodded in agreement, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. ¡°Yes, you''re right. Beauty can be subjective. What is beautiful to one person may not be to another.¡±

    Carmelita smirked faintly, a curious look on her face. ¡°But it''s interesting that you used the word ''piece of art'' to describe your own older creation. Do you think of yourself as an artist?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, everyone is kind of an artist,¡± Alam said, leaning back.

    ¡°Oh? You believe everyone is an artist?¡± she asked, tilting her head, intrigued.

    ¡°See, for example, performance art. People do things randomly, and people call it art. It¡¯s all about the message and the cathartic emotions the artist conveys to others. Other people perceive their unique quirks as art, so I guess art is something people see as unique and can enjoy,¡± he explained.

    Carmelita nodded thoughtfully, absorbing his words. ¡°Ah, I see what you mean. Art has many forms and interpretations. It¡¯s not always a painting or a sculpture. It can be a performance, a display of unique quirks, or anything that conveys a message and evokes an emotional response.¡±

    She smiled faintly, her gaze still fixed on him. ¡°It seems like you have a deeper understanding of art than most.¡±

    ¡°I''m wise,¡± Alam replied, a playful glint in his eye.

    Carmelita chuckled slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. ¡°Wise, huh? And how did you become so wise, if I may ask? Is it because of your experiences or something else?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because Gott molded me,¡± Alam said, his tone serious.

    She nodded slowly, absorbing this new information. ¡°I see. You believe that God has molded you into the person you are today.¡± There was a hint of curiosity and surprise in her voice, mixed with a touch of admiration for his faith.

    ¡°Yeah, many things I don¡¯t ask are coming to me. Many things I want to avoid are coming to me,¡± he replied.

    Carmelita nodded again, a look of understanding in her eyes. ¡°Yes, the way of life can be unpredictable, and sometimes it seems like we don¡¯t always get what we want or avoid what we don¡¯t want. But you believe this is all part of God¡¯s plan for you.¡±

    She couldn¡¯t help but raise an eyebrow as Alam laid his head on her lap. ¡°Well, this is unexpected.¡±

    She looked down at him for a moment, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips. ¡°Are you comfortable?¡±

    ¡°Yepi,¡± he replied, a satisfied grin on his face.

    She huffed softly, amused by his casualness. ¡°Hmph. You¡¯re very comfortable with physical contact, aren¡¯t you? Laying your head on a woman¡¯s lap so casually...¡±

    After a long, peaceful moment, she sighed and asked, ¡°So, I heard you¡¯re going to attack the Khaganate. How about if we use Ruan Mei¡¯s experiment?¡±

    Alam opened his eyes and looked at her, confusion etched on his face. ¡°What... what do you mean?¡±

    Carmelita kept rubbing his head. ¡°You know... her skinwalker.¡±

    Alam sat up abruptly, shaking his head. ¡°No... it¡¯s man-to-man combat, not some mutant sci-fi shit.¡±

    Carmelita shot him a look, her eyes narrowing. ¡°I see... so no dirty moves, huh?¡±

    Alam tapped his lips thoughtfully. ¡°I believe every trick I employ in battle someday will backfire. So the worst scenario is bio-weapons and mutation... it¡¯s just too much for me.¡±

    Carmelita nodded, her expression serious. ¡°Alright. So we just use their missiles to soften up, right? No skinwalkers or beasts involved?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Old school ways are enough to beat those neo-Nazis,¡± Alam confirmed, a determined look in his eyes.

    In one of the Wanderer garages, a fleet of pickup trucks was armed to the teeth with rockets, artillery, and even some Gatling guns. Each truck had a drone mounted on top, giving the gunner and driver a wider view of the battlefield.

    Meanwhile, Alam was assessing the situation. "Alright, the enemy is isolated in their territory. Any updates from the border raid? How are they responding?"

    An officer with green hair piped up, "Yes, sir! They¡¯ve started to react. They¡¯re trying to reinforce their border, but their troops are as scattered as my socks after laundry day. We''re still holding the initiative!"

    "Good. We need a solid position to strike. Bring me the terrain map," Alam commanded, feeling like a general straight out of a cheesy war movie.

    The officer handed over the map, and after a dramatic pause, they pinpointed an area near the mountains for the main assault.

    "I''m no geologist, but I want to check the terrain. Get me a geologist!" Alam instructed.

    Later,some wanderer found people who work as janitor in abandoned university. he once are the geologist profesor. after quick persuasion. he quickly agree to help alam,  then geologist finally did his job and assessed the area. "The ground is solid and stable¡ªperfect for heavy armor and vehicles. It¡¯s also diggable, but it¡¯ll take some time."

    "Great! I want a tunnel. When the main army attacks, some soldiers can sneak up from behind and surprise them," Alam ordered, rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain.

    Fast forward to March 21, 2400. After a lot of digging, Alam began his speech. "Alright, folks! Once we step into their territory, there¡¯s no turning back. This is a declaration of war. We''ll strike hard, then retreat to the mountains. When they chase us, we''ll ambush them¡ªrepeat until they''re defeated."

    The troops nodded in agreement, fully understanding the plan.

    "On my mark!" Alam shouted, firing a flare gun into the sky. first barrage of missile soften khagan strong point,

    then wanderers surged into Blood Khaganate territory like a pack of hungry wolves, their heavy armor tearing through the border as if it were made of cardboard.

    Immediately, his forces took control of the border while the Blood Khaganate troops struggled to hold their ground. Alam''s men retreated to the mountains, luring the enemy into a trap.

    As expected, the Blood Khaganate forces pursued, only to find themselves in a narrow mountain path filled with ambushes. Alam''s soldiers opened fire, decimating the enemy ranks.

    "It¡¯s just a matter of time until their general arrives," Alam observed from the mountaintop,

    The enemy general, Inat, arrived with a small contingent, desperately calling for reinforcements. But the Blood Khaganate troops had suffered heavy losses and needed hours to regroup. Meanwhile, Alam''s forces continued their relentless assault.

    "We need to strike harder to wrap this up," Alam insisted. "What¡¯s the status of their main base?"

    An intel officer replied, "The main base is heavily fortified, with anti-air defenses and artillery. It¡¯s a fortress, and breaching it will be as easy as getting a cat to take a bath."

    "Yes, but they haven¡¯t sent their reserves. We need to cut off their supplies. Any routes we can block?" Alam pressed.

    The officer checked the reports. "There are secondary supply routes. Blocking them could cripple their main base."

    "Perfect! Let¡¯s keep bombarding them! And remember, keep moving¡ªdon¡¯t let our guns get too cozy," Alam ordered,

    The artillery and mortar units sprang into action, providing cover while the ground troops maneuvered to dodge counterattacks. They kept up a relentless bombardment on the Blood Khaganate''s position.

    The war raged on. The Wanderers, who had dug tunnels earlier, were now popping up behind the Khaganate''s rear defenses. Their saboteurs easily took out pillboxes and bunkers, planting bombs on the unsuspecting tank column.

    ¡°How many casualties so far?¡± Alam asked after a long silence.

    The officer hesitated, his eyes downcast. "Thirty percent, sir. Ground units. Several IFVs are down." He paused, then added quietly, "We lost avars squad."

    ¡°Who¡¯s their general again?¡± Alam inquired.

    ¡°Inat. He¡¯s a fierce and ruthless commander, responsible for defending the main base and border,¡± the officer replied.

    ¡°Sounds like a suicidal type,¡± Alam remarked.

    ¡°Yeah, sir. He¡¯ll sacrifice troops to win. He¡¯d rather lose hundreds than retreat,¡± the officer confirmed with a grin.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s fight dirty. Focus artillery on incendiary rounds. Surround their base with smoke and fire,¡± Alam ordered.

    The officers nodded and began targeting the area around the main base with incendiary shells. Smoke and flames engulfed the area, choking the enemy soldiers and obscuring their view.

    With the enemy disoriented, Alam declared, ¡°Good! Now they¡¯re trapped like fish in a barrel. Gather all officers for another war council!¡±

    The officers filled the room, eager to hear the latest strategy.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan? Keep the siege going until they¡¯re dust, or take a unique approach?¡± Alam asked, leaning back in his chair.

    Officer 1 chimed in, ¡°Let¡¯s keep the siege. Bombarding them is foolproof. They¡¯ll crumble eventually.¡±

    Officer 2 countered, ¡°How about a surprise attack? They¡¯re trapped, and we can dismantle their base from within!¡±

    ¡°What sneak attack do you propose?¡± Alam raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Let¡¯s use our elite soldiers to infiltrate through the tunnel. They can sneak in at night while we bombard them to lower morale,¡± Officer 2 suggested.

    ¡°Another tunnel? It¡¯ll be tougher this time if we¡¯re just popping up in their base,¡± Alam remarked.

    ¡°True, but this tunnel is still usable. It provides a stealthy route right into their main base, allowing us to strike from inside. The ground is solid, making it feasible to break through once we''re in position,¡± the officer assured.

    ¡°Alright. Use precise map coordinates to enhance this operation,¡± Alam commanded.

    The officer relayed the coordinates to the spec ops team, who began their infiltration as artillery continued to rain down on the enemy. The constant bombardment created a thick cloud of smoke and ash, choking the Blood Khaganate soldiers and obscuring their vision.

    Alam saluted the spec ops volunteers, who returned the gesture, gratitude evident in their eyes. He joined them as they silently navigated the tunnel, avoiding enemy patrols until they reached the main base.

    ¡°Let¡¯s pray for success,¡± Alam said, watching those brave young men head into the tunnel.

    As they emerged at the heart of the base, they found it quiet, with soldiers preoccupied by the bombardment. Alam signaled, "Aim for their weapon armory."

    The team stealthily advanced, reaching the armory undetected. They wreaked havoc, destroying weapons, ammunition, and repair equipment before making their escape.

    "Enough damage. Time to go," Alam ordered.

    They retraced their steps, exiting through the tunnel and regrouping with the main force.

    "Good job, everyone. Any casualties?" Alam asked.

    "All spec ops made it back alive. We''ve severely disrupted their supply lines and morale. They¡¯re now low on weapons and repairs," the officer reported.

    At the Blood Khaganate base, General Inat stood stoic, "The flames lick at the walls, but my will remains unyielding. You may breach these stones, but you cannot break my spirit, Alam."

    "Alright. They don''t have enough ammunition left to last," Alam said. "Let¡¯s try to negotiate before the main assault."

    The officer responded, "The main base is low on supplies, making it a good time to negotiate. They¡¯re in a desperate situation."

    "Yes. Do it. Contact them," Alam instructed.

    After a tense negotiation, the officer reported back, "General Inat has agreed to surrender the main base in exchange for peace and his life. He will not be harmed but taken as a prisoner of war. The base and arsenal will be left intact."

    "And the soldiers?" Alam asked.

    "They¡¯ll be allowed to leave safely," the officer confirmed.

    "Alright, another war council!" Alam called, feeling like he was hosting a game show.

    "They¡¯re handing us their base, but they want to retreat. What do you suggest?" Alam asked.

    The officers debated, deciding it would be better to keep Inat and his soldiers as hostages to leverage against other factions.

    "Yes, let¡¯s make Inat our bargaining chip," Alam agreed, grinning like a cat that caught the canary.

    "Let¡¯s rearrange the deal. Inat will be a prisoner, and his soldiers will be disbanded," Alam instructed.

    The officer renegotiated, and General Inat ultimately accepted being taken hostage while allowing his soldiers to disband.

    "Good. Gentlemen, we have secured victory!" Alam announced.

    Alam celebrated the victory against the Blood Khaganate, capturing General Inat and disbanding his forces. Before his departure, Inat confronted Alam.

    "Your victory is pyrrhic. Your grip on this land will be tenuous at best. You sow seeds of discontent with every blade you swing," Inat warned.

    "Yeah, sure. See you later," Alam replied nonchalantly.

    He then ordered his forces to prepare for a new offensive to sweep through Central Asia, uniting the region under their banner.

    "Don''t worry, guys. This will be more of a parade than a war. Only the stubborn will resist us," he said, earning smiles from the officers. They knew most enemy factions were already fearful, with many abandoning plans to fight after the news of the Blood Khaganate''s defeat.

 Chapter 29 The Old White

    Alam swung himself onto the back of a sturdy steppe horse, the mount shifting beneath him with a snort. He adjusted his posture, striking a pose that he hoped conveyed both authority and casual disregard for the recent carnage. A small contingent of camera drones buzzed around him, capturing the moment for posterity¡ªor, more accurately, for propaganda purposes. He executed a few practiced maneuvers, a subtle choreography of horsemanship designed to impress. It was important to project an image of strength and control, even if the reality was that he was slightly saddle sore.

    after that. alam dismount from the one tribal horse. and wipe his face. he then look at surround him. its a fucking mess place.road is destroyed. all hangar  and warehouse is busted but atleast some building can used for future operation.

    The tattered remnants of the Blood Khaganate flag were being torn down, replaced by the Wanderer standard: a stark black banner emblazoned with a crimson triangle. Alongside it, the golden Garuda of Baihu¡¯s legion snapped in the wind, joined by the banners of other allied mercenary groups and local tribes. It was a colorful, if somewhat chaotic, display of newfound unity.

    Alam surveyed the destruction, his gaze settling on an unexpected sight: a small, intact tea room. It was a simple space¡ªan empty room with a mattress and wooden window frames, a stark contrast to the Khaganate''s militaristic aesthetic. Alam entered and sat cross-legged on the floor. ¡°hmhm.. tea party huh? well. we can add good things to our culture. and khagan warrior is not just mindless barbarian..¡±

    A few weeks later, Alam awaited news in his office, boredom etched on his face. The news report informed him of the mercs sweeping through Central Asia, with enemy factions either surrendering or planning to.

    Recruits flocked to the Wanderer bases, drawn by their soaring reputation. However, the influx presented a new challenge. Some recruits embellished their service records, sporting fabricated medals. Others, genuine veterans, arrived without documentation, relying solely on their reputations.

    To maintain cohesion and quality, older Wanderer veterans were pressed into service as recruiting and field officers. Their unwavering loyalty to Alam and their extensive experience, from Carpathia to Hong Kong, made them invaluable.

    In June 2401, with warm, dry weather, the Wanderer army pushed forward on multiple fronts. Even while still recovering, they rotated their troops to keep the momentum going. Alam relied on his new generals to launch multiple attacks, and the speed and surprise of these strikes left the Khaganate, despite having more soldiers, stunned and confused about where to focus their defenses first.

    "Any updates on the other Khaganate generals? Where are Qilong and Feihong?" Alam asked, flipping through documents.

    Li¡¯s voice crackled through the speaker. "General Qilong refuses to surrender. Our troops are still locked in a standoff with his forces."

    Zhang jumped in, "Feihong is also resisting, but we¡¯re pressing the attack. It¡¯s only a matter of time before he surrenders."

    "Time is of the essence. We need to act before the Red Nation intervenes. Which front needs more attention?" Alam pressed.

    Li replied, "Qilong''s forces are stubborn; they fight like cornered wolves. They need more focus."

    Zhang added, "Feihong¡¯s forces are the strongest left. We¡¯ll need our best units to deal with him."

    "Alright, I¡¯ll tackle Qilong first. Let¡¯s hope reinforcements from the Golden Caravan arrive soon," Alam concluded.

    As Alam flew to the front line, he witnessed fierce clashes between the mercs and Qilong''s forces. He landed to assess the situation.

    "Li, give me the current status," Alam commanded.

    "Qilong''s forces are tougher than expected. They¡¯re well-disciplined and fighting hard, making it tough to break through," Li reported.

    "What¡¯s the terrain like between us?" Alam asked.

    "Mostly open, with few trees and houses. The flat terrain makes advancing against Qilong''s defenses challenging," Li explained.

    "Are they sending sorties?" Alam inquired.

    "Yes, they¡¯re using sorties to slow our advance. They¡¯ve caused significant casualties among our troops," Li confirmed.

    "Hmm. Let¡¯s set a trap. Plant hidden explosives in our trenches. When they attack, feign a retreat and lure them in," Alam ordered.

    "Understood, sir! We¡¯ll set up the explosives and create a false retreat," Li replied.

    "Perfect. Execute the plan," Alam commanded.

    Li quickly relayed the orders, and the troops began implementing the strategy. They planted explosives and staged a retreat, convincing Qilong¡¯s forces to pursue them.

    Once Qilong''s troops occupied the trenches, they triggered the explosives. The trap worked flawlessly, causing chaos among the enemy ranks.

    "Fools! Now is our time! All-out attack!" Alam shouted.

    The merc forces surged forward, taking advantage of the confusion and dealing serious damage.

    His troops rallied, launching an assault on Qilong''s base, exploiting the enemy''s disarray to wreak havoc and push through their defenses.

    "Forward! Infantry, move alongside the armored vehicles¡ªshoulder to shoulder! Don¡¯t spread too far!" Alam barked, channeling his inner drill sergeant.

    The merc force sprang into action, advancing in a tight formation, determined to work side by side with their armored vehicles. They pushed forward, ready to smash through General Qilong''s defenses and reach his base.

    "What''s the battle situation?" Alam demanded, scanning the horizon like a hawk.

    An officer chimed in, "General Qilong''s main force is on the run! Our assault has caused significant damage, but some of his units are still putting up a fight. His base is not yet fully secured, but the retreat is in full swing."

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    "Alright," Alam mused, glancing at the sky. "Let¡¯s wrap this up before dark."

    The officer nodded, "We''re on it. The sun is setting, and we''re pushing to secure the base before nightfall."

    "Good. Send a supply convoy to our front trenches. No need to worry¡ªthey won¡¯t be sending sorties after their recent losses," Alam ordered, confidence oozing from his every pore.

    "Yes, sir! We¡¯ll send the convoy. Their air strike unit is in chaos and won¡¯t risk more sorties," the officer confirmed.

    "Exactly! And the cover of darkness will be our ally. Order the front units to dig in and hold their ground. We¡¯ll continue the assault tomorrow. We¡¯re getting closer to their base!" Alam commanded, feeling like he was on the cusp of a victory lap.

    "Indeed, the darkness is our friend," the officer agreed. "Our night vision gives us the upper hand. Plus, with our diverse merc force, we¡¯ll exploit the enemy¡¯s weaknesses."

    "Speaking of names, what does ''Qilong'' mean?" Alam asked, curiosity piqued.

    "General Qilong''s name means ''dragon-king'' in Blood Khaganate. It¡¯s a powerful title, and his unit is known as the ''Blood Dragons''," the officer explained.

    "Dragon, huh? I wonder what he''s thinking right now," Alam mused, staring at the distant base.

    The officer glanced at the base, noting the activity. "It¡¯s interesting that Qilong¡¯s forces are still trying to reinforce their base despite their retreat. Shows loyalty, or maybe just stubbornness."

    "Yeah, loyalty from a vassal? How quaint," Alam scoffed, shaking his head.

    "Blood Khaganate was once a small faction within China. Over time, they grew powerful by aligning with the Red Nation. Now, they have no choice but to cling to that alliance," the officer elaborated.

    "Interesting history lesson," Alam said, patting the officer on the shoulder. "Now, I¡¯m off to contact Baihu, the female general from the Garuda Legion."

    As if on cue, Baihu¡¯s image appeared on the screen. "Hello, Commander Alam! What¡¯s your situation? Have you made progress against the Blood Khaganate?"

    "Yeah, we¡¯re moving forward. But I hear you¡¯re a fan of close-quarter combat," Alam quipped.

    "Oh, absolutely! Close quarters are the best! We have the edge in speed and agility. What''s your plan, Commander? Going in for a hug, or keeping your distance?" she replied, a playful glint in her eye.

    "We¡¯re pretty close to their base¡­ I can practically see their moves through binoculars," Alam said, smirking.

    "Sounds like the battle is nearing its end. They¡¯re reinforcing their base, but in close quarters, they¡¯re toast. They can¡¯t match our speed," Baihu observed.

    "Well... can I borrow some of your strength?" Alam asked, feeling a bit shy about the request.

    "You want our troops for your battle against the Blood Khaganate? Is this a plea for help?" Baihu teased.

    "Yes, please!"

    "Alright, Commander. We''ll send our troops your way right now. We¡¯ll give you the support you need to finish this battle," Baihu confirmed.

    "Perfect! I¡¯m actually surprised. You seem very professional right now. I was expecting more of your flirty antics," Alam confessed, raising an eyebrow.

    "Haha! Surprise! But I¡¯ll save the flirting for after the battle. Right now, my focus is on kicking some serious butt," Baihu replied, throwing him a wink.

    "Alright, see you later¡­ muah!" Alam said, blowing her a kiss.

    "See you later, muah!" Baihu echoed back, cutting the comm with a playful smirk as she sent her troops to join the fray.

    And just like that, the stage was set for a showdown, with Alam ready to seize victory and Baihu poised to add some flair to the fight.

    Alam peered through the periscope, watching General Qilong''s forces scramble to fortify their base. It was clear they weren¡¯t about to let it go without a fight, but the disarray from their last defeat was evident. Opportunity was knocking.

    ¡°Any night sorties?¡± Alam asked a nearby mercenary.

    ¡°No, sir. Their air unit is still recovering from the blast. They¡¯re probably avoiding night operations since they lack night vision gear. But we should stay alert¡ªthey might spring a surprise.¡±

    ¡°Always moving, huh?¡± Alam mused.

    ¡°They¡¯re reinforcing defenses, sir. Their main force is in full retreat, so I doubt they''d attack tonight. But we can¡¯t drop our guard.¡±

    ¡°Got it. Let¡¯s form a war council,¡± Alam commanded over the radio.

    The mercs gathered around, ready for Alam''s next move against the Blood Khaganate army.

    ¡°Alright, what¡¯s the consensus? They¡¯re hurting after yesterday, right?¡±

    ¡°Definitely, commander. The explosion hit them hard,¡± said one merc.

    ¡°But they still have troops. We can¡¯t underestimate them. They¡¯re actively shoring up defenses,¡± another cautioned.

    ¡°Anyone got a headcount?¡± Alam pressed.

    ¡°Estimates suggest 400-500 troops remaining,¡± reported one merc. ¡°They¡¯re still reinforcing but it looks like they¡¯re running low.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s their equipment situation?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°Limited. They lost a lot in the last battle. Most of what they have left are basic rifles ,They¡¯ve got a few anti-tank missiles and some armored vehicles, but that¡¯s about it.¡±

    Alam rubbed the back of his head. ¡°So they¡¯re lacking night vision, right? They haven¡¯t sent any sorties at night.¡±

    ¡°Exactly, commander. We have the advantage after dark.¡±

    ¡°Alright, time for a night assault. Here¡¯s the plan: every soldier with night vision leads a squad of 4-7 without it. We¡¯ll use flares for distraction.¡±

    ¡°Interesting, commander. We¡¯ll leverage our night vision while keeping them confused with flares. Great idea, sir.¡±

    ¡°Each soldier with night vision needs to coordinate. We¡¯ll train while we wait for reinforcements.¡±

    ¡°Agreed. We¡¯ll need to ensure everyone¡¯s on the same page for this to work.¡±

    ¡°Any suggestions?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°That covers it, sir. If we execute properly, we¡¯ll have the upper hand at night,¡± came the reply.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get this rolling,¡± Alam commanded.

    ¡°Understood. Training starts now,¡± the merc replied.

    Alam switched gears, reaching out to Zhang for updates.

    ¡°Commander? Is your position secure?¡± Zhang¡¯s voice crackled over the comm.

    ¡°We¡¯re waiting for reinforcements for the final push. What¡¯s your status?¡±

    ¡°Stable here. The enemy hasn¡¯t committed their main force, but we repelled a special ops attack. Holding our ground while we await General Baihu¡¯s reinforcements.¡±

    ¡°Avoid confrontation for now. Once Qilong is neutralized, we¡¯ll move,¡± Alam instructed.

    ¡°Understood. We¡¯ll monitor their movements closely.¡±

    As Alam refocused on Qilong¡¯s base, he noted the bustling activity within. Unlike the chaotic Blood Khaganate base, Qilong¡¯s looked well-protected, brimming with anti-air and anti-tank defenses.

    ¡°Hey! Who here knows how to build a catapult?¡± Alam rushed into the engineer workshop.

    ¡°Hi, commander! We¡¯re the engineering team. What do you need?¡±

    ¡°I want a decoy to distract their AA weapons while we launch a real attack. Can we do this?¡±

    ¡°Definitely. We can design decoy drones to mimic our aircraft and missiles, confusing their defenses.¡±

    ¡°Right! Let¡¯s rain decoys on them!¡±

    ¡°Exactly. We¡¯ll bombard them with decoys to overload their systems, giving our real missiles a clear path.¡±

    ¡°Make as many as you can,¡± Alam ordered.

    ¡°Understood. We¡¯ll aim for at least two dozen decoys. We¡¯ll stagger launches to keep them guessing.¡±

    ¡°Get to work!¡±

    Days later, the engineering team confirmed they had dozens of decoys ready for action.they are mimicing bomb shell, drones. and even missiles  and for catapult they just using nearby woods from nearby trees. thanks to indiguinity of mechanic of Cyber-Brahmins'' from scrap city

    ¡°Let¡¯s see these babies fly!¡± Alam grinned.

    The team launched a barrage of decoy missiles and aircraft, perfectly mimicking the real deal. The enemy¡¯s anti-air systems were overwhelmed, wasting ammo on the decoys while Alam¡¯s actual missiles sailed through largely unchallenged.

    ¡°Ha! Keep pouring them on! Deplete their munitions!¡± Alam reveled in the chaos.

    The decoys danced across the sky, creating a spectacular distraction. The enemy¡¯s defenses were in disarray, unable to distinguish between threat and illusion.

    ¡°This is beautiful¡­ like fireworks,¡± Alam chuckled, watching the enemy waste resources.

    With their real forces intact and the enemy¡¯s defenses crumbling, Alam was poised for victory.

    The enemy''s anti-air missile system was in utter chaos, overwhelmed by a relentless wave of decoys. They flew at all angles, mimicking real missiles so convincingly that the enemy couldn¡¯t tell their flares from their flesh. As the enemy wasted ammo shooting down decoys, Alam¡¯s real missiles and aircraft slipped through unscathed.

    ¡°Great, just what I need¡ªBaihu finding out about this little tactic. She''ll definitely steal it,¡± Alam muttered.

    The engineering team continued launching decoy after decoy, successfully keeping the enemy¡¯s defenses busy. They were itching for Alam''s go-ahead to launch the real attack.

    ¡°Tonight, we implement our night assault. Time to soften them up with real shells. Fingers crossed their AA guns are running on empty,¡± Alam ordered.

    The engineers sprang into action, prepping the real missiles and artillery. They just needed Alam to say the word.

    The engineering team launched the first wave of decoys. They streaked across the sky, mimicking the flight patterns of suicide drones and mortar shell with uncanny precision. On the enemy side, anti-air batteries swivelled and fired, wasting precious ammunition on the illusions. But Qilong¡¯s officers were not entirely fooled. Some began to notice subtle discrepancies in the decoys'' movements.

    "Hold your fire on the small ones!" a Khaganate officer shouted over the comms. "Focus on the larger targets! Those are the real missiles!"

    But it was too late. As the Khaganate gunners shifted their aim, Alam¡¯s real missiles, hidden among the swarm of decoys, found their targets. Explosions rocked the base, destroying key defensive emplacements and sowing chaos among the enemy ranks.

    the sight indeed similar how iron dome being overwhelmed on pre war conflict. but with taste of art.

    ¡°Alright! To victory! Forward!¡± Alam shouted, drawing his silver sword, rallying his mercenaries for one last charge.

    The mercs surged forward, attacking relentlessly. They were a force of nature, smashing through the enemy¡¯s lines. Alam monitored the radio chatter, picking up the enemy''s frustrations. They were caught off-guard, and the casualties were mounting. Alam watched them jumping from trench to trench while dodging bullets and explosions. A sense of grim satisfaction settled over him. This battle was almost won. He rubbed his hand, considering the next move¡ªreinforcements were desperately needed on the other front. He checked the intercom for a progress report. The small message of a potential desertion on the other front now flashed urgently,he need victory to boost the morale of whole front.

    ¡°hah. people always exaggerated things¡±

    Alam watched the scene unfold. His own trench was now empty, indicating no more soldiers were available for the next wave. This was his last attack, or this would devolve into a slog¡ªsomething Alam couldn''t afford with his blitzkrieg style. His reputation hung in the balance

 Chapter 30 Shaking ground

    alam stoically watch the battlefield. until loud explosion erupted. and sound of khaganate gunfire soldier is reduced significanly.

    ¡°Interesting. What¡¯s our status?¡± he inquired, eyes narrowed.

    The mercs had full control of the area, but the enemy was still resisting, albeit weakly. Casualties were high, but they had dealt even worse damage to the enemy.

    ¡°Keep pushing! Rotate your shifts and watch for traps!¡± Alam commanded.

    The mercenaries obeyed, maintaining pressure. After hours of conflict, morning sunlight began breaking over the horizon, revealing the battlefield''s grim reality.

    ¡°Someone get me a visual of the battlefield!¡± Alam barked.

    The mercs reported significant gains; they were encroaching on the enemy¡¯s last bastions. Qilong''s whereabouts were still a mystery, but they weren¡¯t going to let her slip away.

    ¡°Find Qilong! Don¡¯t let her get away!¡± Alam ordered, tapping his fingers impatiently.

    ¡°Damn it, I can¡¯t sit around!¡± Alam decided, grabbing his suit and grenade launcher.

    ¡°Commander, here!¡± a merc handed him his gear.

    ¡°Let¡¯s finish this!¡± Alam declared, heading to the frontline.

    As he arrived, he witnessed the mercs applying relentless pressure, pushing the enemy back. They were battered but still holding on.

    ¡°Current situation?¡± Alam demanded.

    The enemy was on the verge of collapse, but they were still clinging to their positions, albeit weakly.

    ¡°Rotate the duty! Send the reserves in! Half of the night attack soldiers back to the trenches!¡± Alam ordered.

    The mercs complied, rotating in fresh troops to maintain momentum.

    ¡°Alright! They¡¯re down to a few strong points left. No mercy! Flatten their buildings if we have to!¡± Alam shouted.

    ¡°Understood!¡± the mercs replied, concentrating their fire on the remaining enemy strongholds.

    ¡°Send in the flamethrower tanks!¡± Alam commanded with a grin.

    The tanks rolled forward, unleashing waves of fire that scorched the enemy¡¯s positions, forcing them to retreat into their main buildings.

    ¡°Hey, you!¡± Alam patted a nearby merc. ¡°Still using explosives or just small arms now?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re low on ammo, sir. Their fire is weakening,¡± the merc replied.

    ¡°Good. Time to finish this with our armored vehicles. Move in without infantry!¡± Alam ordered.

    The armored squad charged ahead, but Alam called for a tactical retreat to bait the enemy.

    ¡°They¡¯re charging! They think we¡¯re retreating! Now, attack!¡± Alam hollered.

    The armored squad pivoted and opened fire, cutting down the charging enemy with devastating firepower.

    Alam joined the fray, launching grenades at enemies hiding in ruins, his explosive rounds wreaking havoc. The battlefield was a symphony of destruction, and Alam was determined to compose the final act of victory.

    ¡°Alright, this is madness! Somebody make them surrender¡ªuse that speaker!¡± Alam shouted, exasperated.

    One of the mercenaries pulled out a speaker and started blaring a surrender announcement in English. He didn¡¯t really expect the enemy to understand¡ªjust wanted to create some confusion and maybe a little panic.

    To everyone¡¯s surprise, the enemy listened. They dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender like they were at an awkward peace rally.

    ¡°Great, now form a line!¡± Alam commanded.

    The enemy complied, forming a line like obedient schoolchildren. Alam¡¯s mercs kept watch, ensuring these former foes didn¡¯t suddenly decide to play hopscotch with their weapons.

    ¡°Now, where is General Qilong?¡± Alam demanded.

    Silence. The enemy stared blankly, as if they had suddenly forgotten how to speak. Alam sighed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t torture them; it¡¯s ineffective,¡± he muttered. ¡°Someone follow me.¡± He headed toward a half-collapsed building.

    One merc followed, and they cautiously navigated the ruins, Alam peering through his periscope like a reluctant tourist.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s find the basement,¡± he instructed, spotting a staircase leading down.

    As they descended, Alam remained alert, gun drawn. The basement was surprisingly intact, a stark contrast to the chaos above.

    ¡°This must be it. On three, we throw a flashbang and charge in. Got it?¡± Alam instructed his companion.

    They counted down and threw the flashbang, which exploded with a blinding flash. Alam charged in, shouting, ¡°Drop your guns or die!¡±

    The disoriented enemy, still dazed from the flashbang, complied, raising their hands in confusion.

    ¡°Good. Collect their weapons while I aim my gun at them,¡± Alam ordered.

    As the mercs gathered the enemy¡¯s guns, Alam turned the pressure up. ¡°Who is Qilong? Where is she?¡±

    The enemies looked nervously at one another, clearly hesitant to answer. Alam fired a warning shot into the ground.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Qilong must be nearby,¡± he said, watching them jump.

    ¡°Your force is decimated!¡± he added, sensing their morale plummeting.

    Panic spread among the enemy ranks. They whispered to each other, eyes darting nervously.

    ¡°Look, in the past, I¡¯d torture you one by one. Just be a good boy and tell me what I want,¡± Alam threatened, relishing their fear.

    They huddled together, whispering like school kids trying to decide who would take the blame for the broken vase.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m just trying to be a nice guy. Last chance before someone else arrives,¡± Alam said, smirking as he prepared to leave.

    With nothing but silence as his answer, Alam stepped out, leaving the mercs to deal with the anxious lot.

    Back at his tent, Alam relaxed for a moment. ¡°That engineer¡¯s device is definitely working. Send supplies to Feihong¡¯s front to help Zhang. Implement the same decoy tactics while we recover.¡±

    The merc operator nodded and got to work, ensuring the chaos would continue to unfurl in their favor.

    Alam picked up the radio, his impatience palpable. ¡°Well, girl, why¡¯s it taking so long? We¡¯ve already cleaned out Qilong¡¯s base. Only Feihong left!¡±

    Baihu''s voice crackled through. ¡°We¡¯re moving forward, but there are still enemy positions to clear. The flydecoy unit is working its magic, but it¡¯s a slog. We¡¯ll get to Feihong, but obstacles abound.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve seen the flying decoys? Hehe, good! Just take care of business; my main force will join the fun soon!¡± Alam replied, a grin creeping across his face.

    ¡°Copy that. We¡¯ll hold the line for your grand entrance,¡± Baihu confirmed.

    ¡°Gott bless. Out.¡± Alam ordered his troops to loot Qilong''s base and set explosives, ensuring the prisoners got a front-row seat to the destruction.

    Hours later, after the looting was done and explosives were set, Alam stood before the line of prisoners. ¡°Okay, folks, you ready for some fireworks?¡±

    The prisoners shuffled nervously, eyes wide with fear. Alam chuckled at their dread. ¡°Make sure those eyes are wide open!¡± He pressed the detonator.

    The base erupted in a massive fireball, sending debris flying. The prisoners watched, terror etched on their faces, as their former stronghold was reduced to rubble.

    ¡°Now, how about I put some of that boom right at your feet?¡± Alam teased,

    Their fear intensified. They knew he could easily follow through. ¡°Where''s Qilong?¡± Alam demanded.

    One prisoner stammered, ¡°She¡¯s... near here.¡±

    ¡°Lead me to her... wait, she¡¯s a woman?¡±

    The prisoner pointed to a room amidst the wreckage. ¡°She¡¯s inside that room!¡±

    ¡°Okay, squad, check it out!¡± Alam ordered, and they approached cautiously.

    As they peered into the room, it was eerily quiet. ¡°Report!¡± he barked into the radio.

    ¡°Sir, no sign of Qilong. It¡¯s empty. Odd, considering the intel,¡± the squad leader replied.

    ¡°Keep looking!¡± Alam insisted.

    ¡°Checking for hidden rooms now,¡± the squad leader responded.

    After a thorough search, they found a secret door behind the carpet. ¡°Sir, we found a hidden room!¡±

    ¡°Good. Proceed with caution,¡± Alam instructed.

    The squad advanced carefully, and soon they spotted a figure cowering in the corner. ¡°Report!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve located Qilong,¡± the squad leader confirmed.

    ¡°Jackpot! Bring her out¡ªno, I mean, bring her outside!¡± Alam laughed.

    They dragged Qilong from her hiding spot, she was a old woman with dark military uniform, her expression is clear. a expression once a fierce general now without a single troops and weapons, then Alam sized her up. ¡°Alright, are you Qilong?¡±

    ¡°Y-yes, I am Qilong,¡± she stammered.

    ¡°Welcome to the party! You¡¯re my prisoner now!¡± Alam grinned, enjoying her nervousness.

    ¡°Before we get cozy, what¡¯s Feihong?¡± he pressed.

    ¡°Feihong is a territory of the Red Nation, a major stronghold,¡± Qilong replied, clearly anxious.

    ¡°So, it¡¯s not a general¡¯s name, but a province?¡± Alam tilted his head, feigning confusion.

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s a territory crucial for the Red Nation, serving as a gateway to Central Asia,¡± she clarified.

    ¡°Thanks! Now, enjoy your fate as my captive!¡± Alam said cheerfully.

    Qilong couldn¡¯t hide her fear as she faced her uncertain future.

    ¡°Oh, and one more thing: Who¡¯s the big cheese in Feihong?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°General Zhang. He¡¯s in charge there,¡± Qilong answered, resigned to her new reality.

    ¡°Zhang who?¡± Alam probed.

    Qilong hesitated before answering, ¡°General Zhang, the leader and governor of Feihong. He commands all Red Nation forces in the territory.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­ what a coincidence! One of my officers attacking Feihong is named Zhang too,¡± Alam smirked.

    ¡°Really? Your officer¡¯s named Zhang too?¡± Qilong replied, eyebrows raised in surprise.

    ¡°Yep. Funny fate, huh?¡± Alam grinned.

    Qilong shot back, sarcasm dripping from her voice, ¡°Oh, yes, really funny¡ªso funny that I¡¯m your prisoner.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry; war is always unpredictable.¡± Alam nodded to his mercs. ¡°Take her away.¡±

    The mercs grabbed Qilong firmly, leading her off without resistance. She followed, knowing that causing trouble would only make matters worse. qilong was surprisely compliant. perhaps the crack within khaganate is indeed not a rumor.

    With Qilong secured, Alam raised his hands to the sky, closing his eyes for a moment.

    The quiet was broken by his intercom. A message from Bayarl Khan of the Golden Caravan: a military donation, and a demand for a meeting regarding equipment accusations. Alam narrowed his eyes. ¡°Yellow Nation¡­ old rivals,¡± he muttered, glancing north, towards Zhang and Jax¡¯s struggling front. ¡°Looks like my reward for winning is more work.¡±

    The black Hind carried him west, over Carpathia¡ªthe familiar medieval towns and monuments a blur below. Then, Yellow Nation territory.

    Crossing the designated border checkpoint was like stepping into a different world. Gone were the static fortifications; here, the landscape undulated in shades of ochre, dust plumes swirling on the horizon, kicked up by a constant flow of movement.

    Caravans dominated the scene. Towering mobile fortresses rumbled past, bristling with armored vehicles and artillery. Soldiers in olive fatigues stood watch, faces stoic behind visors. Smaller caravans, carrying merchants, nomadic families, and artisans, weaved through the dust haze. The air vibrated with a cacophony of languages, bartered deals, and the thump of traditional music. Scattered camps dotted the horizon, herds of livestock grazing under the watchful eyes of mounted scouts. The Yellow Nation was a nation perpetually on the move.

    Patrolling armored vehicles carved through the dust clouds, and checkpoints, manned by grim-faced soldiers, punctuated the landscape. But amidst the military presence, there were the "ramblers"¡ªindividuals and small groups on foot, easily identified by their colorful garb and souvenir-laden packs.

    One such rambler, sporting a particularly flamboyant pointy hat, approached Alam as he dismounted. "Greetings, traveler! Perhaps a trinket to commemorate your journey? A small purchase brings good fortune, a larger one¡­ well, let''s just say it opens doors to certain¡­ exclusive areas," he winked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

    Alam, checking his chronometer, sighed. "Don''t have much time, but¡­ I might be persuaded."

    "Excellent, excellent! A discerning customer! What treasures catch your eye?" The rambler gestured to his stall, a chaotic display of cheap plastic souvenirs and gaudy trinkets. Fake golden horse statues gleamed under the harsh sun.

    "Got anything¡­ practical?" Alam asked, eyeing a particularly garish plastic horse. "Something for writing?"

    "Ah, a man of letters! Of course!" The rambler produced a yellow fountain pen, a crudely etched golden horse icon on the barrel along with the words "A Gift from Golden Horse." It looked like it had been fished out of a bargain bin. "This, my friend, is a relic. A gift from the Golden Horse himself! Pure gold nib, guaranteed to write for a thousand years! A mere 199 credits."

    Alam raised an eyebrow. "One credit."

    The rambler recoiled as if struck. "One credit?! You wound me! This is a masterpiece! 190 ¨C I''m practically giving it away!"

    Alam shrugged. ¡°Never mind. Got any fireworks?¡±

    The rambler¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Fireworks? My friend, you¡¯ve come to the right place! The best in the Yellow Nation! Explosions, colors, designs¡­ I have it all!¡± He pulled out a large crate overflowing with fireworks¡ªrockets, sparklers, fountains, and packs labeled "Golden Horse Firecrackers." ¡°For a discerning customer like yourself¡­ 40 credits.¡±

    Alam considered the crate. It was a good price, and he had a use for a distraction. ¡°Deal.¡± He handed over the credits.

    The rambler beamed, handing over the crate. ¡°Excellent! You won¡¯t regret this! Just¡­ be careful. These are powerful. And¡­ perhaps keep them away from any¡­ sensitive areas.¡± He winked again, a knowing look in his eye.

    Alam hoisted the crate. "Thanks. I''ll keep that in mind." He turned to leave.

    "Anytime, friend. Remember, if you need more souvenirs, you know where to find me. Enjoy the fireworks, and be sure to spread the word about my shop. Safe travels!¡± He gave one last, lingering wink.

    As Alam walked away, he heard the rambler muttering to himself, ¡°Forty credits for those old things¡­ should have asked for fifty.¡±

    As Alam made his way to the center of the Yellow Nation, the terrain shifted from rolling hills to an urbanized landscape. Yellow tents gave way to larger canvas and bamboo structures.

    He arrived at a vast clearing, a bustling marketplace surrounding the Khan¡¯s mobile capital, the Golden Horse. It was a moving city, a military base, a symbol of the Yellow Nation''s might. The steel tracks stretched into the horizon, carriages like grand pavilions on wheels. The Khan''s own pavilion dominated the complex.

    Alam parked his hovercraft and was met by a wary guard who checked his identification.

    "You''re here for the Khan," the guard grunted, then led Alam through the labyrinthine corridors of the Golden Horse. Vendors, merchants, and patrolling soldiers filled the passageways. They reached the central pavilion, a lavish display of wealth. Silk tapestries lined the walls, intricate carpets covered the floor, and golden trinkets adorned the corners. In the center sat Bayarl Khan.

    "Hello, old man," Alam said, striding in.

    Bayarl Khan raised his gaze from a stack of paperwork, his eyes meeting Alam''s. "The Second Leader of the Wanderers. Alam. Formidable and reckless, I hear."

    "Funny you wanted to meet in person," Alam said, taking a seat. "Thought you might want to strangle me yourself."

    Bayarl Khan smirked. "I assure you, I have no such desire. Yet. I wished to discuss a matter of great importance to both our factions."

    "Enemy of my enemy, and all that," Alam said. "Kinda makes us asshole friends, doesn''t it?"

    Bayarl Khan chuckled. "You''re direct, Alam. I appreciate that. We share a mutual enemy."

    "Right," Alam said. "But you see¡­ aren''t you worried about escalation? Red Nation mercs are everywhere."

    "I''m aware of their presence," Bayarl Khan said. "Their influence is¡­ contained. They are a threat, but not yet one we cannot handle. Escalation is a concern, but we are prepared."

    Alam rubbed the back of his neck. "Prepared for what? World War Four?"

    Bayarl Khan paused. "It''s a delicate subject. Suffice to say, the situation is tense. Many prepare for conflict. If things worsen¡­ it could become inevitable."

    "Is there no other way?" Alam asked.

    Bayarl Khan sighed. "I wish there were. But diplomacy has failed. Those who crave power understand only strength. War has become¡­ necessary."

    Alam rubbed his chin. "I think¡­ intervention in the Red Nation government might offer a solution. At least¡­ reduce the carnage."

    Bayarl Khan''s eyes narrowed. "Intervene? That''s¡­ risky. It could provoke retaliation from them, or even other factions. Are we prepared for that? Why would they listen to us?"

    "At least their leader isn''t a zealot," Alam shrugged, a slight smile playing on his lips.

    Bayarl Khan chuckled. "So it''s the leader, not the faction. You believe a¡­ more reasonable leader would be preferable."

    "It''s a gamble," Alam admitted. "It could backfire spectacularly. A more fanatical faction could rise, or a rogue general. But¡­ empires have pulled it off before. Even the US, before its collapse."

    Bayarl Khan nodded slowly. "You speak truth. It is a gamble. But¡­ perhaps a necessary one."

    Alam rubbed his forehead. "Anyway¡­ let''s get the paperwork done. I have a war to win in the East."

    Bayarl Khan gestured to several documents on the table. "Of course. Time is of the essence."

    After the paperwork was completed, Alam stretched. "Well," he said, turning serious again. "We''re rubbing each other''s backs again, old man."

    Bayarl Khan chuckled. "Old partners in chaos. We''ve had our differences, but we''ve also supported each other when it mattered. A strange relationship, but¡­ one I value."

    "Alright," Alam said. "Farewell. Maybe we''ll meet again in¡­ heaven or something."

    Bayarl Khan grinned. "Indeed. Let us hope Heaven welcomes us. Until then, may fortune favor us."

    Alam nodded, raising his hand. "Assalamu alaykum." He turned to leave.

    Bayarl Khan returned the gesture. "Wa alaykum assalam." He watched Alam go, his mind already returning to the matters at hand.

 Chapter 31 Desert winds

    Feihong stands as a vibrant blend of Chinese and Mongolian cultures, a testament to resilience after the great flood that rendered many coastal cities uninhabitable. While advanced cities like Hong Kong and Beijing managed to reclaim their lands, others fell into disarray, prompting people to move inland and establish new settlements. Among these, Feihong emerged as the most advanced city, making its capture a significant blow to the Khaganate.

    In the backdrop, the Yellow Nation, also known as the Golden Caravan in Europe, supports the Wanderer cause but hesitates to fully commit, wary of escalating tensions in the region. Alam understands that a decisive victory against the Khaganate could sway the Yellow Nation to back them more openly or potentially curbing the Red Nation''s aggression.

    However, Alam''s allies express concern over his grand ambitions, viewing them as overly idealistic. While Alam may believe that his actions are necessary to secure peace and stability in the region, they are almost certain to have the opposite effect.

    Just then, Ali, a tribal warlord, enters Alam''s tent. "In this world, power is all that matters. The strong survive, and the weak are left to fend for themselves. Anarchy is just a natural state of being."

    Alam''s internal thoughts: ¡°Anarchy breeds suffering,¡± Alam muttered to himself, Ali¡¯s words echoing in his mind. He looked at the map, his gaze fixed on Feihong. This wasn''t about conquest; it was about establishing order, a bulwark against the chaos that threatened to consume them all.

    In late July 2401, Alam split his army to reinforce Zhang''s position while the rest carried heavy supplies. As they approached Feihong, the red nation colonial city. zion domain in oversea.  alam addressed the vanguard. ¡°Alright, boys, slow down the convoy. Scouts ahead. Baihu reports high enemy activity.¡±

    The vanguard slowed and sent scouts to ensure the path was clear. Alam braced for any threats lurking in Feihong territory.

    ¡°Tell Zhang to secure the road ahead,¡± he ordered.

    Zhang received the message and fortified the route with mines and machine guns, preparing for an enemy encounter.

    ¡°Good¡­¡± Alam contacted Baihu. ¡°Where are you?¡±

    ¡°We''re on the west side of Feihong. Large enemy forces marching toward us. What¡¯s your position?¡± Baihu replied.

    ¡°West? We¡¯re in the south. Dig in¡ªwe¡¯ll flank them!¡± Alam commanded.

    Baihu relayed the order, and her team began digging in to prepare for an ambush.

    ¡°Okay, may Gott bless us.¡± Alam turned to his soldiers. ¡°Full speed! Scouts, double time!¡±

    The scouts sped ahead, covering the vanguard¡¯s flanks to spot any enemy forces.

    ¡°Inform our gun convoy to deploy,¡± Alam instructed.

    The artillery and supply convoy readied themselves for battle, setting up positions to support the vanguard.

    ¡°Now, if our flank works, we¡¯re definitely in God¡¯s favor,¡± Alam sighed, tension rising.

    ¡°Report!¡± he called into the radio.

    ¡°We¡¯re under heavy fire, multiple enemy forces attacking from all directions!¡± Baihu replied, her voice strained.

    ¡°Give us grid coordinates! We¡¯ve got artillery!¡± Alam shouted.

    Baihu provided the coordinates. ¡°Grid: 10¡ã 40 mins, 24¡ã 10 mins. Enemy position: 30¡ã 25 mins, 27¡ã 7 mins. Heavily armed and fortified.¡±

    ¡°Dig in. I¡¯m sending coordinates to artillery!¡± Alam ordered.The artillery team sprang into action, preparing to rain fire on the enemy.

    The region had turned into a dust-filled haze, littered with remnants of both current and ancient wars, including the devastation of WW3. As they passed by wrecks and ghost towns, the soldiers began to waver, confronted by the horrorscape before them. A few distant explosions sent them diving for cover, their nerves fraying.

    ¡°Form a wedge! Tanks in front, infantry right behind!¡± Alam commanded.

    The units quickly fell into formation, ready for the clash. ¡°Infantry, don¡¯t dismount until I say!¡±

    Alam knew that engaging the enemy too soon would cost them the element of surprise. He stacked the soldiers, holding them back like waiting for the perfect moment to say "boo" in a prank.

    As they closed in on the enemy, Alam tapped the driver and declared, ¡°This is it¡­¡± Suddenly, smoke erupted ahead. ¡°Stop!¡± he shouted, but the units froze, caught in a tug-of-war between fear and duty. ¡°Keep moving!¡± he barked, pushing them forward. ¡°Steady¡­ just follow my lead!¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    With adrenaline pumping, they reached the enemy position. ¡°Tanks, keep rolling; infantry, hold tight!¡±

    Alam scanned the enemy''s heavy weaponry and took a deep breath. ¡°Tanks, smoke screens! Infantry, dismount!¡± The tanks unleashed a cloud of smoke, and the infantry sprang into action.

    ¡°Now attack!¡± Alam yelled, diving into the fray as the vanguard charged, overwhelming enemy defenses. He fired his rifle, leading the assault while artillery rained down, turning the enemy into a smoldering mess.

    ¡°Adjust artillery coordinates!¡± he commanded, and the gunners complied, blasting the opposition into submission. ¡°Watch them burn¡­¡± he grinned, taking cover to savor the chaos. ¡°Alright, gentlemen, let¡¯s clean up the scraps!¡± he ordered, launching the pursuit of fleeing foes.

    Baihu¡¯s voice crackled through the radio: ¡°The enemy is heavily suppressed. Many are fleeing. We¡¯re clearing the area.¡±

    ¡°Good. We¡¯re in the south¡ªcheck your fire,¡± Alam instructed, feeling relieved.

    ¡°Thanks, Gott. We made it!¡± he said, returning to his vehicle. ¡°Don¡¯t chase the enemy too far!¡±

    The vanguard halted their pursuit, regrouping with Baihu¡¯s forces.

    ¡°Where¡¯s your general?¡± Alam asked as Baihu rode up on her horse.

    ¡°General Zhang is in the command vehicle, overseeing operations,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Not you, girl,¡± Alam smirked.

    Baihu laughed, realizing his jest. ¡°Oh, me? I¡¯m a colonel, second-in-command. Zhang is experienced and has been planning this operation.¡±

    ¡°Got it. So, Zhang absorbed you into his forces. Smart move; we don¡¯t need a split command,¡± Alam noted.

    ¡°It¡¯s actually beneficial. Our units are stronger together, and we can leverage each other¡¯s experience,¡± Baihu explained.

    ¡°Perfect! Let¡¯s keep this momentum going!¡± Alam declared, ready for the next phase of their campaign.

    Later, General Zhang commended, ¡°I see you¡¯ve repelled the enemy and linked up with Baihu¡¯s forces. Well done! Don¡¯t worry; my units are escorting the artillery to you now. Just keep the area secure and prevent any enemy infiltration.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Alam replied nonchalantly, then turned to Baihu. ¡°Did you know the leader of Feihong is also named Zhang? Just like my officer. Funny coincidence, right?¡±

    Baihu raised an eyebrow. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s interesting. Yes, the leader of Feihong is named Zhang too. he¡¯s ambitious, ruthless,

    ¡°Great, tell me more about this Feihong region,¡± Alam urged.

    Baihu took a moment to think. ¡°Feihong covers a large part of Central Asia. It¡¯s rich in resources and strategically vital. The leader is cutthroat, leading her private armies to invade any territory he deems important.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like we¡¯re already at war with the Red Nation, then. I captured Qilong, who confirmed it,¡± Alam said.

    Baihu nodded. ¡°Correct and zhang is pulling the strings.¡±

    ¡°Alright, our mission now is to capture Red Zhang to end this war. For clarity, let¡¯s call the Red Nation''s Zhang ¡®Red Zhang¡¯ and my officer ¡®Blue Zhang¡¯ to avoid confusion.¡±

    Baihu chuckled. ¡°Good idea! That¡¯ll definitely help keep things straight.¡±

    ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll take down Red Zhang, and I¡¯ll have Blue Zhang operate the artillery while we push forward,¡± Alam planned.

    Baihu agreed, ¡°Yes, and I¡¯ll provide support as well. Together, we can hopefully capture Red Zhang and end this conflict.¡±

    ¡°However, we still lack intel on the region. We need more eyes before we proceed. Let¡¯s regroup and camp for the night,¡± Alam suggested.

    Baihu nodded, and they set up camp, securing the area with sentries while the troops rested.

    A few days later, as they advanced deeper into enemy territory, Alam studied the map in his command vehicle. ¡°Baihu, does this area have any major cities?¡±

    ¡°Yes, there are several. The two largest are Yili in Uigurstan and Karaxung in Karakhon City. They¡¯re crucial to the region, after great flood people flock in those big city¡± Baihu replied.

    ¡°Perfect. I¡¯ll send my best spies, Li and Mei, to gather intel on both cities,¡± Alam decided, dispatching them immediately.

    Meanwhile, he pondered, ¡°I plan to position us between the two cities for quick reactions. But it could be dangerous if Red Zhang has multiple armies.¡±

    Baihu considered this. ¡°That¡¯s a solid plan. It allows us to respond quickly, but we should be ready to split our forces if needed.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Our eyes are key to victory. We can hold the middle ground and have Blue Zhang flank any enemies that try to attack us,¡± Alam strategized.

    Baihu agreed, ¡°Good idea. Keeping our forces centralized while having Blue Zhang as backup will strengthen our position.¡±

    The officers exchanged nods, all in agreement with the plan and ready to contribute ideas.

    ¡°Okay then, let¡¯s move out!¡± Alam commanded.

    After reaching their destination, they set up camp in a secure location between the two cities, ready to await intel from Li and Mei. the place is desolate. and dry. since war broke they lost powergrid to irrigate the region.

    ¡°Alright, another waiting game,¡± Alam sighed. ¡°Did you know that army life is 10% fighting and 90% waiting? Heh. Let¡¯s see how our patrol and spies play this out.¡±

    Baihu chuckled. ¡°Yeah, I know¡ªpatience is key. We just have to endure the boredom and wait for reports to come in. Hopefully, they¡¯ll make our mission easier.¡±

    ¡°Boredom is a state of mind,¡± Alam replied, a smirk on his face. ¡°I could be reading or writing to pass the time.¡±

    Baihu smiled. ¡°True. I don¡¯t mind the waiting either; I¡¯ll just write while we wait. It¡¯s a good way to kill time.¡±

    ¡°Oh? What are you writing?¡± Alam asked.

    Baihu looked up from her paper. ¡°I¡¯m writing poetry. It¡¯s a hobby of mine.¡±

    ¡°Poetry? Let¡¯s hear one!¡± Alam urged.

    Baihu nodded and read aloud:

    "Gloom fills the sky,

    The light of hope is fading away,

    The shadow of darkness spreads over the land,

    The endless night of sorrow seems to never end..."

    ¡°Hmm. It¡¯s good but kinda gloomy, heh,¡± Alam remarked.

    ¡°Yeah, I guess I was feeling down when I wrote it,¡± Baihu admitted, chuckling.

    ¡°Here, have some chocolate,¡± Alam offered. ¡°Don¡¯t worry; everything will be over soon, with Gott¡¯s help¡­ or at least de-escalate.¡±

    Baihu smiled, accepting the chocolate. ¡°Thanks! You¡¯re right; I should stay positive. We just need to focus on gathering intel.¡±

    After a few days of tense waiting, reports finally came in from their intel units.

    Li¡¯s spy unit was first to deliver intel. ¡°There¡¯s a large enemy force in Uigurstan, preparing to launch an attack and recruiting local militia.¡±

    ¡°Ah, so they¡¯re trying to beef up their numbers,¡± Alam noted. ¡°Let them come. Dig in and build more trenches. We¡¯ll welcome them. Meanwhile, send our mobile unit to hide and block their retreat when the attack happens.¡±

    Baihu nodded, issuing orders for the troops to fortify. ¡°Got it. We¡¯ll prepare for their attack and set up our ambush.¡±

    ¡°Also, build decoy guns and bunkers. We need to trick them into thinking we have a full defense,¡± Alam added.

    Baihu directed the engineers to create decoys, while Alam thought ahead. ¡°Let¡¯s dig a square ditch big enough for a tank to hide. Can we manage that?¡±

    The engineers confirmed it was doable. ¡°Good. Dig it right in front of our trenches. When they focus their fire on us, our hidden tanks will rush out and surprise them.¡±

    The engineers got to work, digging furiously as Alam summoned a war council. ¡°Alright, folks, if you were Red Zhang, which side would you attack from?¡±

    The officers quickly brainstormed, agreeing on a likely attack point.

    ¡°Excellent. Prepare for a counterattack. Remember, we¡¯re dealing with militia; they¡¯ll scatter if we hit them hard and fast. Don¡¯t just give them the usual banter,¡± Alam advised.

    The officers agreed to use only veteran mercs for the counterattack to ensure effectiveness.

    ¡°Waiting is dangerous,¡± Alam declared. ¡°Let¡¯s have a feast tonight! We need to boost morale for tomorrow.¡±

    The camp buzzed with excitement, soldiers eager to celebrate before the impending battle. As evening fell, they gathered for a lively feast, sharing stories and laughter, the tension momentarily forgotten.

    In the camp office, Alam handled paperwork when a message from the Wanderer popped up. He chuckled at the friendly distraction and replied, ¡°Sure, Wanderer. Let¡¯s chat¡ªcould use some fun while we wait for the enemy to attack.¡±

    He hit send and sipped coffee, observing his troops. Some wore nervous expressions, while the seasoned veterans exuded calm confidence, having faced this uncertainty before. The atmosphere was electric, a mix of anticipation and camaraderie as they prepared for the days ahead. the ration is changed a bit. a smal dip of meat. that is luxury items.

    He drew out the fireworks he¡¯d bought from the Golden Caravan, a small, almost childish gesture against the backdrop of war. He handed a few to a nearby soldier. "Light ''em up," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. The fireworks erupted in the afternoon sky, bursts of color against the fading light. It was a foolish decision, a blatant display of their position. But never mind. The soldiers were happy, and they were well entrenched. Let them come. As the last firework faded, alam look at horizon. wondering if someone take a bait or not

 Chapter 32 Rise of True horde

    Days crawled by after the feast, and the soldiers dug in, fortifying defenses and anxiously waiting for the enemy to make their move. Despite the monotony, spirits remained high. The younger troops fidgeted with nerves, while the veterans exuded calm confidence, reminding them that patience is part of the game.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ this is taking longer than expected,¡± Alam mused. ¡°Let¡¯s get a bit aggressive¡ªsend out a raiding party!¡±

    Baihu nodded, dispatching the raiding party to gather intel and boost morale. They set off to catch the enemy off-guard and report back on the enemy''s position.

    ¡°Proceed,¡± Alam ordered.

    The raiding party returned, revealing that the enemy was indeed recruiting local militia and caught off-guard by the raid. ¡°Looks like Red Zhang is playing it safe,¡± Alam noted. ¡°We need to give them a false sense of security to make our plan work.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Baihu replied. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s send a truck full of dummies and fake guns to Blue Zhang¡¯s area. We¡¯ll make it look like we¡¯re reducing our forces,¡± Alam suggested with a sly grin.

    Baihu chuckled and agreed. Soon, the truck rolled out, leaving the enemy thinking they had the upper hand.

    ¡°Now, how about we build a fake base a few kilometers away?¡± Alam added. ¡°They¡¯ll think we¡¯ve split our army!¡±

    Baihu quickly ordered the construction of a fake base, designed to mimic their real one. ¡°This should keep them guessing,¡± she said.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see how Red Zhang reacts,¡± Alam said, rubbing his hands together.

    The fake base was completed, and they waited for the enemy''s response, which, surprisingly, never came.

    ¡°Alright, time for the final act. Bombard their city¡ªbut stick to the industrial areas,¡± Alam commanded.

    Baihu relayed the order, and the artillery roared to life, hitting the industrial sector and causing chaos. ¡°Let¡¯s see if they bite,¡± Alam smirked.

    ¡°They¡¯re not retaliating,¡± Baihu reported, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

    ¡°Looks like they want us to attack first. Prepare the IFVs and off-road jeeps. Armor them up!¡± Alam ordered, excitement building.

    As the modified vehicles rolled out, Alam climbed onto one. ¡°We¡¯re striking first! On my mark¡ªforward!¡±

    With Baihu alongside him, the assault beganThe modified vehicles roared across the cracked earth, The first shots cracked like thunder, sending startled birds scattering from the skeletal remains of bombed-out buildings. Red Zhang''s forces, caught mid-deployment, scrambled for cover, their lines breaking under the sudden onslaught.

    ¡°Baihu, report!¡± Alam shouted over the chaos.

    ¡°All clear! The attack is going well; they¡¯re still unprepared. We¡¯ve hit their industrial area and pushed deep into the city,¡± she replied confidently.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get cocky! If your units start taking heavy losses, fall back immediately,¡± Alam warned.

    ¡°Understood. We¡¯ll stay alert and regroup if needed,¡± Baihu assured him.

    ¡°Good. Hold your ground,¡± Alam commanded, keeping the IFVs stationed at the city¡¯s outskirts.

    ¡°Any sign of a counterattack?¡± he inquired, watching the unfolding situation.

    Baihu monitored the enemy closely. ¡°So far, they¡¯re just digging in, trying to fortify their defenses. No counterattack yet¡ªthey''re probably waiting for reinforcements.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, city battles. I hate them. I want to lure Red Zhang into our trenches. Any ideas?¡± Alam grumbled.

    Baihu perked up. ¡°How about we use a modified IFV as bait? We can make it look like a lone suicide mission. Red Zhang will think we¡¯re sending in just one vehicle while we ambush him from the trenches.¡±

    ¡°Ehh... that could work. Let¡¯s rig a remote-controlled IFV with some enemy bodies and explosives for a little fireworks show. They love fireworks; it''ll boost their morale to attack us!¡± Alam suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye.

    Baihu grinned and sprang into action, ordering the setup of the tricked-out IFV. Soon, the bait was ready, and the modified vehicle rolled out for its ¡°suicide attack,¡± enticing Red Zhang to take the bait.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see if they bite,¡± Alam said, rubbing his hands together as the IFV lured the enemy in like a moth to a flame.

    As Red Zhang took the bait, Alam shouted, ¡°All-out attack!¡±

    The Wanderer Group soldiers in the trenches sprang to life, unleashing a torrent of gunfire on the unsuspecting Red Zhang troops, who were caught in a whirlwind of chaos.

    ¡°Now, let¡¯s block the city roads. Don¡¯t let them escape!¡± Alam commanded, and the mobile units sprang into action, sealing off the escape routes.

    ¡°Final push! It¡¯s time to deliver a devastating blow and end this!¡± Alam urged as the counterattack unit moved in, ready to decimate the weakened enemy.

    ¡°Anyone got a battle vision?¡± Alam called out, peering through the chaos.

    One soldier quickly activated the battle vision, displaying a massacre unfolding outside. ¡°This isn¡¯t a battle; it¡¯s a slaughter!¡± Alam exclaimed, his eyes wide.

    ¡°They¡¯ve even stopped firing back! Cease fire!¡± he ordered, realizing the tide had turned.

    The order was relayed, and the onslaught halted. The Red Zhang troops, now in total disarray, panicked and began to flee.

    ¡°Mobile unit, chase them down! Urge them to surrender!¡± Alam commanded, as his forces pursued the panicking enemy.

    ¡°Block their route! Tanks and IFVs, cavalry forward!¡± he urged, mobilizing his forces to seal the deal.

    ¡°Okay, infantry, secure the city while we hunt down the remaining Red Zhang!¡± Alam shouted, rallying his troops.

    ¡°Relay my message in different languages: ¡®Stop running or die!¡¯¡± he instructed.

    As the message echoed, the Red Zhang troops fell into chaos, scrambling for cover. Some surrendered, while others fled in a panic.

    ¡°Alright, run over the ones still resisting. No mercy!¡± Alam ordered, and the mobile unit complied, crushing the fleeing Red Zhang under their wheels.

    ¡°They¡¯re just stubborn and stupid,¡± Alam remarked, mounting a machine gun on the IFV. ¡°Aim for their legs! Make sure they can¡¯t run again!¡±

    Most of the Khaganate soldiers didn¡¯t even fire their guns; they just took off, showing they were mostly recruits. The language barrier made it tough for their officers to command them effectively. The desert was littered with dead bodies, but some were lucky enough to be captured by the Wanderers.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    After the slaughter, Alam ordered the wounded to be taken prisoner and a makeshift hospital set up for treatment. ¡°Let¡¯s dominate this city. Cavalry, forward!¡± he commanded.

    ¡°Mostly contained, just small pockets left. No major attacks yet,¡± an officer reported.

    ¡°Let¡¯s assert our dominance. Capture strong points and claim this city!¡± Alam declared.

    With his orders ringing in the air, the Wanderer Group moved to secure the government office, driving toward their prize.

    ¡°Ram the gate!¡± Alam shouted as they arrived, and the driver complied, slamming into the entrance.

    ¡°Infantry, secure the building!¡± he commanded as the soldiers stormed the government office, ready to take control.

    ¡°Alright, send a squad to secure the other buildings and get snipers in position,¡± Alam ordered, scanning the battlefield.

    The Wanderer Group quickly dispatched squads to every building, setting snipers in place to provide long-range support against Red Zhang and his elite guards. With their defenses bolstered, they braced for the inevitable confrontation.

    ¡°Now let¡¯s secure this building!¡± Alam declared, charging up the stairs.

    Reaching the top floor, Alam found Zhang¡¯s elite guards already on alert. Guns raised, they opened fire.

    ¡°Sniper team, are you in position?¡± Alam shouted over the chaos.

    ¡°Affirmative!¡± came the reply. The snipers were ready to rain down fire.

    ¡°Good! Shoot anything that moves!¡± Alam commanded.

    The sniper team complied, unleashing a hail of bullets as Alam¡¯s squad charged toward Zhang.

    ¡°Jax, send in some heavy machine guns for suppressive fire!¡± Alam radioed.

    ¡°On it!¡± Jax replied, and soon the heavy machine gun team was laying down intense fire to cover the advance.

    ¡°Let¡¯s wait until they soften up a bit,¡± Alam said, holding back his squad as the machine guns and snipers kept the pressure on.

    ¡°Cease fire! Aim RPGs at the top floor. Fire seven rounds simultaneously!¡± Alam ordered.

    The team complied, and a barrage of RPGs flew toward the elite guards, creating chaos and confusion.

    ¡°Alright, gentlemen! Now it¡¯s our turn!¡± Alam shouted, tossing a grenade as he charged up the staircase.

    With a deafening boom, Alam and his squad rushed into close-quarters combat with Zhang¡¯s guards. Bullets flew, and chaos reigned as they engaged in a fierce battle.

    ¡°They¡¯re dug in well, but they¡¯re just using small arms!¡± Alam strategized. ¡°Position the heavy machine guns on the other building and pierce through the walls!¡±

    The units quickly complied, redirecting their heavy fire toward Zhang¡¯s position.

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s slowly advance,¡± Alam ordered, throwing down green smoke for cover.

    Half an hour later, the fight was still brutal, with neither side gaining the upper hand. Alam called for an update on the situation outside.

    ¡°Most buildings are secured, and we¡¯ve blocked reinforcements for Zhang,¡± an officer reported. ¡°Citizens are safe in secured zones, supporting our operation.¡±

    ¡°Time for a little psychological warfare,¡± Alam said, grabbing a speaker. ¡°Zhang, you¡¯re completely surrounded. Surrender now!¡±

    Zhang¡¯s defiant reply echoed back: ¡°We¡¯ll never surrender! We¡¯re the elite of the Red Nation, and we¡¯ll fight to the last man!¡±

    ¡°Fine, suit yourself,¡± Alam said, tossing the speaker aside. ¡°Everyone out! Plant bombs on the pillars!¡±

    The Wanderer Group quickly exited and planted explosives, bracing for the big finale.

    ¡°Last chance, Zhang! Surrender or this will be your grave!¡± Alam taunted through the speaker.

    ¡°Never! We¡¯ll die fighting!¡± Zhang shot back.

    ¡°As you wish,¡± Alam smirked, handing the detonator to Baihu. ¡°Make it a fireworks show!¡±

    Baihu pressed the button, and the building erupted in a spectacular explosion, collapsing dramatically as red Zhang and his guards were trapped inside.

    ¡°Let¡¯s make this a war memorial¡± Alam tone shift into melancolic, tossing debris aside to mark the spot. he then sigh, remember the slaughter of the poor recruit. and now die hard patriotic bastard. this is why better to not know much about your enemy in war. its will easier if you just kill. without know.

    The troops complied, creating a makeshift monument from the rubble,

    ¡°Okay... I¡¯m feeling conflicted,¡± Alam admitted, rubbing his head. ¡°But hey, we won!¡±

    With the operation complete, the Wanderer Group celebrated their success in unifying the city under one banner, victorious and unscathed.

    On November 1st, 2401, the winter winds howled through Central Asia as Alam returned to his new base in Ruyi City, once another Khaganate territory. Eleanor waited for him in his office, a map of the newly conquered territories spread across the table. The city itself bore the scars of war, but signs of rebuilding were already visible. Citizens moved about their daily lives, albeit with a cautious optimism. Wanderer patrols kept a watchful eye, but there was no sense of oppression, only a quiet acceptance of the new order.

    ¡°Finally,¡± Alam said, opening his arms slightly as he entered. ¡°We took our lands back¡­ and beyond. What''s the scoop on our new territory?¡±

    Eleanor smiled, gesturing to the map. ¡°It¡¯s stabilizing. The citizens are cooperating, grateful for the protection. The unification process is going smoothly. No major incidents.¡± She pointed to a section of the map where the Garuda Legion''s former territory was now marked with the Wanderer symbol. ¡°Baihu¡¯s Legion has been fully integrated. She¡¯s officially one of us now.¡±

    Alam blinked, his gaze sweeping across the vast expanse of territory now under his control. The recent victory had indeed given him a significant chunk of the eastern wasteland. It made sense for Baihu to consolidate her power, but something about Eleanor¡¯s tone made him wonder if there was more to the story. He looked back at her.

    ¡°Perfect,¡± Alam said, a thoughtful expression on his face. The sheer size of their new holdings made the threat of retaliation from the Red Nation all the more real. He stabbed a dagger into a drawing of the Red Nation flag on the map. ¡°In peacetime, we prepare for the next war. We need to form a confederation¡ªa true horde. It¡¯ll be our bulwark against any Red Nation retaliation.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a solid plan for expansion,¡± Eleanor agreed. ¡°It¡¯ll protect our holdings and strengthen our influence in the region.¡±

    ¡°Right. But I¡¯ve noticed my forces are pretty diverse. Some are warlike, others more calm. What¡¯s your take?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°Diversity is our strength! We just need to ensure the warlike forces align with our culture, while the calmer troops help them adapt,¡± Eleanor suggested.

    ¡°Meanwhile,¡± Alam said, glancing at a map of Asia, ¡°as we build our territory, we should expand. What do you think?¡±

    Eleanor nodded. ¡°While consolidating our new territory, we can also explore expansion into neighboring regions¡ªeither through persuasion or military strength.¡±

    ¡°Need to recruit more officers. Any names come to mind?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°Sure! We can look at promising soldiers from our campaigns. I recommend Yang, Zao, and Feng¡ªthey¡¯ve all shown talent.¡±

    ¡°Get them here now!¡± Alam ordered.

    Eleanor quickly called out, ¡°Yang, Zao, and Feng! Report to Alam¡¯s office!¡±

    Moments later, the three soldiers entered.

    ¡°Alright, introduce yourselves and share your achievements,¡± Alam commanded.

    ¡°Yang,¡± the soldier said, his voice steady. He adjusted the worn patch on his shoulder, a stylized hawk clutching a lightning bolt. ¡°Carpathia, Hong Kong, Feihong¡­ I¡¯ve seen my share of fire. I prefer a well-planned defense, but I¡¯m not afraid to take the fight to them.¡±

    ¡°Next!¡± Alam urged.

    ¡°I¡¯m Zao. I joined the Wanderer Group at 16 and have fought in many battles against the Blood Khaganate. I¡¯ve taken out numerous generals,¡± Zao replied.

    ¡°Impressive. And you¡¯re how old now?¡±

    ¡°22,¡± Zao confirmed.

    ¡°Good. And you?¡± Alam turned to Feng.

    ¡°I¡¯m Feng, originally from China. I joined early on and have participated in many engagements, taking out key figures in the Blood Khaganate,¡± Feng said.

    ¡°Alright, Eleanor, show me a map of China and its situation.¡±

    Eleanor displayed a chaotic map riddled with factions, warlords, and ongoing conflicts. ¡°It¡¯s a mess over there,¡± she said.

    ¡°Perfect. Feng, Zao, and Yang¡ªyou''re under my command now. Your mission is to unite the land of China.¡±

    The trio nodded in affirmation, ready to tackle the challenge.

    ¡°Mission Zhongguo Conqueror has officially begun!¡± Alam declared, a determined grin on his face. ¡°.

    ¡°Alright, we need to conquer this region fast. I¡¯m eyeing the center of China. If we take it, the surrounding territories will have to acknowledge us. we fight against time before zion main force arrive and took it from us...¡±

    Thoughts?¡± Alam¡¯s voice was steady, but urgency pulsed beneath.

    The council, composed of the best and brightest of the Wanderer Group, leaned in.

    ¡°Securing local support is key,¡± Fang explained. ¡°We need to build relationships, show we¡¯re not like the Blood Khaganate. Once locals see our strength, they¡¯ll have no choice but to back us.¡±

    ¡°Exactly! But what if I just spearhead straight to the heart of China? Too risky?¡± Alam asked, eyebrow raised.

    ¡°General, that¡¯s a dangerous move,¡± Zao cautioned. ¡°Rushing in could leave us vulnerable to attacks from other regions. Methodical wins the day. Let¡¯s secure the surrounding areas first.¡±

    Alam sighed heavily. ¡°I get it. But time is against us. The Red Nation is licking its wounds and will pounce if we dawdle.¡±

    Yang chimed in. ¡°We need to secure our position before facing the Red Nation. Taking the heart of China is a massive undertaking. Patience is key.¡±

    ¡°Fine, I won¡¯t commit all our resources to a reckless charge. I¡¯ll destabilize the region with a small force first while the rest of you expand methodically,¡± Alam conceded.

    ¡°Appreciate your flexibility, General,¡± Zao said. ¡°A solid foundation will pave the way for a successful campaign.¡±

    ¡°Now, let¡¯s get real. What challenges will we face in this China campaign?¡± Alam pressed, looking around the room.

    Fang jumped in. ¡°The Red Nation is a formidable foe with significant resources. We¡¯ll encounter fierce resistance, advanced artillery, and local militias still reeling from the Blood Khaganate.¡±

    ¡°Right. And what about Central China?¡± Alam asked.

    Zao replied, ¡°It¡¯s populous and resource-rich, but also riddled with fortified cities and local militias. Expect tough fights.¡±

    ¡°Any other major players in the mix?¡± Alam inquired.

    Yang nodded. ¡°Yes, local gangs and governments will complicate things. They have their own agendas, and we need to understand their motivations.¡±

    ¡°Great, so it¡¯s a circus out there,¡± Alam chuckled. ¡°Do you have any questions?¡±

    Zao piped up. ¡°What¡¯s your plan for coordinating the vanguard and the main force?¡±

    Alam outlined his plan. ¡°Generals Zhang and Jax will lead the main force, maintaining our expansion. My vanguard will be a volunteer squad of 100, backed by ten IFVs, an artillery truck, and a Hind. Fang, you¡¯ll oversee our progress. Yang, handle supply. Zao, you¡¯ll manage the integration of conquered territories.¡±

    ¡°Any questions?¡±

    Fang raised a hand. ¡°Intelligence gathering?¡±

    Yang added, ¡°What about other Wanderer missions during this central campaign?¡±

    Zao¡¯s concern was more direct. ¡°100 soldiers, General? Against a powerful nation¡¯s heartland?¡±

    ¡°We have spies in place, though progress is slow,¡± Alam explained. ¡°My vanguard will also act as scouts. Jax and Zhang are more than capable of handling expansion elsewhere¡ªthey¡¯re methodical leaders, perfect for that. And Zao¡­ 100 is enough. With Gott¡¯s help, anything¡¯s possible.¡±

    Fang nodded. ¡°Understood. The vanguard will be crucial for reconnaissance.¡±

    Yang agreed. ¡°Jax and Zhang are well-suited for the other operations.¡±

    Zao remained skeptical but offered a respectful, ¡°Very well, General.¡±

    Alam¡¯s gaze drifted. ¡°Remember my story? Leading just four mercs¡ªAnya, Talon, Jax, and myself¡ªacross Europe? I thrive on those odds.¡±

    Fang recalled the tale. ¡°A near-impossible mission, yet you succeeded. You¡¯ve overcome adversity before.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t guarantee a smooth ride,¡± Alam countered. ¡°I could die. But even if I do, the cause continues.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re irreplaceable, General,¡± Fang insisted. ¡°You¡¯re a skilled tactician, a guerilla fighter.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve seen your courage firsthand,¡± Yang affirmed.

    ¡°We faced the Blood Khaganate and the Red Nation. We¡¯ll overcome this too,¡± Zao added.

    ¡°I hope so.¡± Alam paused. ¡°Any final questions?¡±

    Yang asked, ¡°Any final words before you depart?¡±

    Fang added, ¡°Anything for the soldiers joining you?¡±

    Zao inquired, ¡°Your first plan of action in the central region?¡±

    Alam looked towards Ruyi City, a touch of melancholy in his eyes. ¡°I hope to return.¡± He then stepped atop an IFV, addressing his assembled vanguard.

    He stepped onto an IFV, his voice ringing out across the assembled troops. ¡°Gentlemen, brave women! We¡¯ve come this far together. We will make history! We may die and turn to ashes someday¡ªmaybe tomorrow, maybe in fifty years¡ªbut today is ours! Our actions, our decisions. We are not mindless puppets. We have free will. And today¡­ we choose to strike!¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s with me?¡± Alam shouted, raising his hand high.

    The room erupted in unison, hands raised. ¡°We are with you, General Alam, until the very end!¡±

    ¡°Forward! To China!¡± Alam declared.

    The Wanderer Army cheered, their battle cry echoing across the field as they marched towards Central China, ready to strike at its heart. The journey had just begun. Alam turned to the map of China, the vast expanse of territory stretching out before him. Uniting such a fractured land would be his greatest challenge yet. He glanced at Yang, Zao, and Fang, their faces a mix of excitement and apprehension. He knew this would be a long and bloody road. As the last of the convoy disappeared into the vast desert, Ali and Zhang stood at the gate.

    ¡°The fact that the Blood Khaganate and Red Nation were already planning an invasion makes Alam''s actions seem less like a preventative measure and more like a preemptive strike or a power grab. He''s not stopping a war; he''s continuing one that was already about to begin, but on his terms,¡± Ali mused.

    Zhang nodded, his face hardening. ¡°While Alam expresses a desire for order and stability, he doesn''t clearly articulate how conquering China will achieve this.¡±

    Ali shrugged, then whistled to call his enchanted black horse. Mounting it, he looked at the sunset on the horizon. ¡°He might think if we''re strong enough, Zion will think twice about starting their invasion,¡± a grim smile touching his lips. After a moment, he added ¡°But Zion¡­ that¡¯s a storm he¡¯s never weathered.¡± With that, Ali rode off, leaving Zhang to contemplate the uncertain future, the setting sun casting long shadows across the desert.

 Chapter 33 Bastard Brigade

    Witty World News on screen

    September 2403. Move over, Attila the Hun, there''s a new horde in town, and they''re hungrier than a pack of wolves at a borscht buffet. The Wanderer Group, once mere vassals of the Red Nation, have gone full Genghis Khan, sending shockwaves through Central Asia like a Cossack doing the kazachok on a trampoline.

    In other news: Bears spotted tap-dancing in the taiga, local officials blame faulty vodka distilleries.

    The True Horde banner soared high¡ªa white horse against a blue background, flanked by the Wanderer banner, a striking red triangle on a black field. Alam gathered his war council, calling in his top generals and talented officers. its was a year after creation of true horde confederacy,

    Meanwhile, while Alam goes full berserk on land, the Blood Khaganate finds itself starved for supplies, making it easy for him to declare their territory as a tasty breakfast. But what Alam doesn¡¯t realize is that the real battle is raging on the Pacific and Atlantic seas, where Jozen¡¯s pirates are systematically tearing apart the Red Nation fleet and its supply lines.

    World War 4 hasn¡¯t been declared yet, but tensions are soaring!

    Amid this chaotic Pacific showdown, we shift to Nara, a member of the infamous Bastard Brigade¡ªa ragtag group of wild, bloodthirsty warriors acting as the vanguard in a bold assault on a pirate stronghold.

    From their bomber planes, they rain destruction down on the islands below, explosive payloads lighting up the sky. Anti-aircraft guns fire back, sending shockwaves that rattle the bombers.

    In the midst of this pandemonium, the Bastard Brigade prepares to parachute in. Among them is Nara, armed with a small axe from Panji and a rifle slung across her back. She¡¯s ready to prove herself, surrounded by a motley crew of warriors in all sorts of outfits. Some sport leather biker jackets and bandanas, others wear proper soldier uniforms, and a few even don tuxedos with katanas on their backs, looking like they just stepped out of a Yakuza movie. ¡°If I¡¯m going to die,¡± one trooper sighed dramatically, clutching his chest, ¡°I want to die¡­ in drips

    The first wave of parachute gliders descends onto the island. Most of them are decimated by enemy machine gun fire, and then it¡¯s Nara¡¯s turn.

    ¡°Go, go, go!¡± barks Lieutenant Rayleigh, decked out in an exosuit that looks like it came straight from a Halo game, as he jumps first.

    Nara dives, watching Rayleigh¡¯s chute open too early and swing wildly. Another comrade¡¯s chute gets shredded by enemy fire. She decides to hold off on opening hers, aiming for the flak cannon below. At 30 meters, she pops it open, crashing hard but somehow managing to keep her leg intact, much to the enemy¡¯s surprise. With a quick move, she takes out the cannon with a grenade.

    Looking around, it''s total chaos¡ªeven friendly fire. The enemy''s dug in deep, shooting from behind tall grass with crappy weapons. Nara searches for her comrades and finds Rayleigh, his leg broken.

    "Blow up those huts, they''re for their NCOs. It''ll mess with their heads," he says, handing her three bombs. "But don''t use ''em all, we need to hit the radio center."

    Nara nods and goes after the pirates in their jungle gear, while her brigade looks like a circus but with better armor. After hours, she blows up an empty hut¡ªa small win.

    Officer Patrick, with his black hat and bloody sword, yells, "Good job, now attack!" and charges into the thicket. Nara, now shot up, heads back to Rayleigh for some help.

    "You did good," Rayleigh says, tossing her an adrenaline shot. "Bullets in your arm and leg? You''re fine, get back out there!" he shouts, limping forward. "We need that radio center before sunset! They''ll hit back soon, move it... kill! Kill!"

    The fight drags on, bloody and relentless. Both sides often can''t see each other beyond a few meters due to the thick grass and swamps. The Bastard Brigade fights from trenches and a cave connected to a trench, dealing with gunfire, explosions, and annoying mosquitoes and other bugs.

    Nara stumbles upon a bunker, originally used in WW2 by the Japanese, now occupied by pirates on the brink of WW4. After clearing out the enemy, the path to the radio station is filled with the buzzing of insects and the squelching of boots in the swamp.

    "Damn, we''re not getting paid enough for this," grumbles one warrior.

    "We''ll never get paid ''cause we''re gonna die," another laughs.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    "Shhh, quiet!" hisses Ma, a female NCO.

    The monotony is shattered by the sound of machine guns as the enemy launches a counterattack. Nara, at the front, sees a horde of enemies charging at her. Panicking, her heart racing, she throws all her grenades and takes cover behind a big boulder.

    From there, she sees the smoke from her comrades'' guns as they fire rapidly. Trying to peek out from the boulder, she''s met with enemy gunfire, cornered. Her instinct kicks in¡ªshe plants one of her two bombs on the boulder and retreats, detonating it to create shrapnel that hits the nearby enemies.

    The battle intensifies, both sides clawing for victory, aware that this island could tip the scales in the Pacific theater.

    After a brutal fight, they inch closer to the enemy radio station, encountering hidden pillboxes and explosive traps along the way. Nara''s aim wavers as her adrenaline fades, the pain from her gunshot wounds in her shoulder and thigh flaring up. She retreats to Rayleigh for medical attention.

    "Alright, you''ve done well so far," Rayleigh grudgingly tends to her wounds, giving her a small dose of painkillers.

    "Fuck..." she hisses through the pain. Once patched up, she asks, "Why didn''t you treat me earlier?"

    "Those meds are expensive! I could sell ''em... I don''t wanna waste ''em on a coward. Anyway, you''ll just get more wounds soon. Now, get back to the fight!" Rayleigh''s expression is hidden behind his full-face helmet, but Nara suspects he''s smirking or grinning.

    Realizing she''s being commanded by a madman, Nara pats her bag, noting she''s used up all her bombs. No way she''s asking Rayleigh for more. She''s determined to destroy the radio station herself, somehow.

    She attempts to flank the enemy, rushing through the swamp and thick vegetation, taking out a few enemies but knowing she''s passing many more without being able to shoot them.

    A hail of bullets whizzes past her ears, and she takes another hit in her shoulder and back but keeps sprinting until she reaches a ruined building. Is this the radio station? Or is she just lost? Still under fire, Nara zigzags inside and takes cover among the ruins.

    Wait, the radio station was already destroyed by a bombing campaign. She''s both relieved and annoyed. If she dies now, it''s for nothing.

    But Nara''s crazy flanking maneuver draws enemy attention, giving her comrades a chance to take out many of them.

    She tries to peek out from the ruins and take out some enemies, but a loud machine gun pierces the air, its bullets tearing through the brick.

    Nara''s heart races again. She knows the enemy''s caliber could pierce her suit if she takes a hit. Methodically, she crawls towards the ruins and takes out the enemy machine gunner with a lucky shot.

    Later, Rayleigh, seemingly forgetting his own broken leg, runs towards the ruined radio station. He spots Nara behind the rubble.

    "Good job, we did it! We destroyed the enemy building!"

    Nara just plays along and nods, holding her wounds.

    Meanwhile, at the station...

    Kassandra surveyed the battlefield, her voice tense. ¡°The island is ours, but the casualties are too high.¡±

    Zion nodded, his expression grim.

    ¡°We can send the elite brigade somewhere safer¡ªstop them from dying in this chaotic jungle, our ally khaganate need them more¡± Kassandra pressed.

    Zion shook his head. ¡°Let it be.¡±

    Suddenly, a dot appeared on the monitor, growing larger¡ªit was a boomerang airfighter jet, sleek and deadly. It swooped down, unleashing hell on the pirates hiding in the dense jungle.

    Cheers erupted among the warriors as the airfighter soared past, another pirate obliterated.

    Amid the celebration, Rayleigh stood tall in an open field, his patched-up legs steady. He pulled off his shades, revealing piercing blue eyes between the confines of his full-face helmet. Surrounded by the Bastard Brigade, he unfurled a map, determination etched on his features.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t just a radio station,¡± he declared, fire in his voice. ¡°They¡¯ve built a tunnel system. This island hides an underground port¡ªlikely connected to their hidden city. Our mission? Search and destroy!¡±

    Later, in the makeshift armory inside the tent, Duc, the bulky machine gunner, slung an ammo belt across his chest, looking every bit the warrior.  beside him a yu. a girl with mechanical implant limb with orange hair

    ¡°You look badass,¡± Yu remarked, grinning.

    Duc raised an eyebrow. ¡°Try carrying it. Then tell me how cool it is.¡±

    Yu laughed. ¡°No thanks. It¡¯s heavy!¡±

    Patrick, busy cleaning his sword, chimed in. ¡°Last battle was insane. You¡¯re the only machine gunner left in the entire platoon.¡±

    Duc nodded, a grim smile on his face. ¡°Our life expectancy? About a minute after we fire this thing. All the attention¡¯s on us. But I don¡¯t mind... I¡¯ve taken down a lot of them.¡±

    Rayleigh led the platoon once more, with Nara trailing behind, her fresh wounds still wrapped in bandages. They navigated a steep ridge, the path treacherous.

    ¡°Ugh, this gear is so heavy!¡± one warrior grumbled.

    ¡°Shut it!, its your guys fault not buy light and better gear instead spend it on pussy¡± Ma, the NCO, snapped, cracking her crop like a whip.

    ¡°Nara, you and Yu scout ahead!¡± Rayleigh ordered, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°Why us?¡± Yu wheezed, panting.

    ¡°Because you both have small asses! Now go!¡± Rayleigh laughed.

    They scrambled up the cliff for a shortcut, reaching a high vantage point. Below, they spotted a group of enemies in white exosuits among the ruined huts.

    ¡°Time to plan an attack!¡± Rayleigh said, eyeing the numbers.

    As the assault began, the enemies scrambled to plant explosives in the tunnel. Not on Rayleigh¡¯s watch. Their exosuits proved useless against their small arms.

    ¡°Keep firing, Duc!¡± Rayleigh shouted.

    Duc opened fire like a machine, bullets raining down on the enemy.

    ¡°Patrick, Alexis! Flank them!¡± Rayleigh barked.

    With melee weapons drawn, Patrick and Alexis charged, tossing a flashbang into the mix. They cut through the enemy exosuits like butter. Patrick aimed for the gaps with his sword, while Alexis went for their necks with a machete and throwing knives.

    ¡°Excellent cuts!¡± Rayleigh called out, watching with approval.

    Meanwhile, Nox swaggered in like a Duke Nukem wannabe, beheading an enemy for a trophy. He proudly displayed another ear on his hip to Yu and Nara, who exchanged mixed looks of disbelief and amusement.

    ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving!¡± Rayleigh urged as they ventured deeper into the tunnel.

    Suddenly, a massive explosion rocked the ground¡ªthe pirates were trying to blow the tunnel! A quarter of the platoon got separated from Rayleigh, who stood at the tunnel¡¯s mouth.

    He spotted a huge boulder blocking their path and sighed. ¡°Carry on with the mission. You guys might find your way on your own. Ceasar spirit bless,¡± he radioed to the trapped warriors.

    Now it was just Nara, Yu, Patrick, Nox, Alexis, Duc, and a few others left to fend for themselves.

    Inside, they fought fiercely, quickly overpowering any remaining pirates. But then they hit a wall.

    ¡°Over here!¡± someone shouted, spotting a platform leading deeper into the hall. Water pooled ominously below.

    ¡°Ew, no way. That¡¯s a red flag,¡± Alexis said, lowering her thermal goggles.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope this stops the crash!¡± Patrick yelled as they jumped down, plunging into the depths, followed closely by Nox and Alexis, ready to face whatever awaited them.

 Chapter 34 Fungi nyan

    Bastard brigade squad member stumbled upon a small underground train¡ªone that felt like a relic from another time. As it rattled through the dark tunnel, they noticed something bizarre: glowing green mushrooms sprouting from the ceiling, casting an eerie light around them.

    ¡°Masks on!¡± someone shouted, but Nox, always the wild card, and Alexis, who was maskless, decided to keep going. ¡°What¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡± Alexis joked, but the moment she breathed in, she started coughing. ¡°Uh-oh. I think I¡¯m infected.¡±

    A low growl echoed through the tunnel, Suddenly, a humanoid figure emerged from the glowing mushrooms above, its body dripping with red blood after the first kill. Panic set in. ¡°Stop the train!¡± they yelled, but the thing just kept speeding up, slamming into the creature with a loud thud.

    The train screeched to a halt at the end of the line, leaving them bloodied and bruised, splattered with the attacker¡¯s gore. Just when they thought it couldn¡¯t get worse, the emergency lights flickered and died.

    ¡°Great. We¡¯re going to be blind,¡± Alexis groaned, her frustration palpable.

    ¡°Not if I can help it,¡± Nox said, grabbing one of the glowing mushrooms. ¡°We can use this!¡±

    Yu, wiping blood off her face, chimed in, ¡°Actually, I can do something. Hand me that mushroom.¡±

    ¡°No way! Get your own, you cibi!¡± Nox shot back, clutching his prize.

    ¡°Give it to me! That¡¯s an order!¡± Yu snapped, her patience wearing thin.

    ¡°Nyoooh!¡± Nox replied defiantly.

    ¡°Enough already. Give it to her,¡± Patrick interjected, tipping his hat back to reveal his pure black eyes.

    Nox raised an eyebrow but relaxed a bit. ¡°you¡¯re not even the leader!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a hundred years old,¡± Patrick retorted.

    ¡°Really? Alright, old man,¡± Nox said, relenting and handing the mushroom over. Patrick quickly passed it to Yu.

    With a determined look, Yu pulled out a glass bottle and plunged the mushroom inside, turning it into a makeshift light source. ¡°There! Emergency lighting, folks!¡±

    The others quickly followed suit, transforming their own mushrooms into glowing beacons. Now, they were ready for whatever came next.

    Sure! Here¡¯s a punchier, more casual version of your scene:

    They passed an old warehouse, now half-submerged in water, with crates and cargo floating all around. It felt like a twisted game of Mario Bros, except the water was dark and murky¡ªand definitely scary.

    They jumped from crate to crate, adrenaline pumping, battling the occasional humanoid creature that lurked in the shadows.

    ¡°Ugh, I¡¯m thirsty. Can someone hand me some water?¡± Duc complained, lowering his machine gun.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a restaurant,¡± Alexis shot back, her thermal goggles scanning the area ahead.

    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m carrying this heavy thing for a reason!¡± Duc grumbled, clearly annoyed.

    Alexis glanced back at him and smirked. ¡°No one needs that big gun, buddy.¡±

    Duc just pointed the gun forward, and Alexis immediately went serious. But instead of shooting at her, Duc blasted a creature that had been creeping up behind them.

    ¡°Nice shot!¡± Patrick said, offering Duc his water bottle.

    Nox finished off the creature with a shotgun blast at point-blank range. ¡°What now? We¡¯ve lost contact with HQ, and our supplies are running low. Old man, what¡¯s the game plan?¡±

    Patrick sighed. ¡°Let¡¯s just keep moving.¡±

    As they pressed on, the tension mounted, and they grew more aggressive¡ªboth toward enemies and each other.

    Eventually, they stumbled into an underground city, but it was a decaying nightmare, crawling with monsters.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    Descending into the half-submerged metropolis, they spotted the central tower glowing faintly in the distance. They fought their way through the chaos, but the power was out.

    ¡°Let¡¯s find a generator,¡± Duc suggested, glancing at the murky water pooling around their feet.

    They made their way to the basement, where the water was knee-deep, and a bunch of grotesque creatures lurked beneath the surface. It was time for another fight. they easly kill any creature around them. but ammo is low.

    ¡°save it for yourself guys heh.. ¡° nox said while grab some pipe scattered around and use it as weapon

    Later, Alexis stumbled into a medical room and immediately went to town on every antibiotic she could find. Nara, noticing her frantic scavenging, raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Do I look okay?¡± Alexis shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

    ¡°Not really, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t tell anyone, alright?¡± Alexis interrupted, grabbing more supplies from the shelves.

    <hr>

    Meanwhile, Nox found a dismembered hand and used it to open the identification door. Surprisingly, it worked!

    After a ton of drama, they finally powered up the generator, lighting up half the submerged city. A giant sign in the central hub read ¡°Aqua,¡± but the sudden glow attracted every creature in the area.

    ¡°Time to move!¡± Nox yelled, leading the charge to the main elevator.

    In the hall, two elevators stood waiting. The first one descended, while the second was only halfway down. When the doors opened, it could only fit five people.

    Nox and his group piled into the first elevator, leaving the others to fend off the horde. Nara, Duc, Alexis, Yu, Patrick, and the rest squeezed into the second one, but the first elevator got stuck thanks to some nasty fungi. They shouted for help, but it was chaos.

    At the last moment, Nox snapped, going berserk and attacking the four people still in his elevator. But with the creatures closing in, he decided to leave them behind; there was no time.

    The attacks from the monsters caused more damage, and soon the city was flooding fast. They barely managed to reach the surface when their elevator jammed.

    ¡°Emergency hatch! Now!¡± Duc shouted. They climbed up to the ceiling and found a long ladder leading to the top. Duc ditched his empty machine gun, and everyone followed suit, tossing aside their weapons to lighten the load.

    Finally, they reached the top and faced a metal door. Yu examined it and said, ¡°We¡¯ll need to force it open.¡± Patrick stepped up, sliding her sword into a small gap.

    With a grunt, they pried the door open, sacrificing Patrick¡¯s sword in the process, and stepped out into the sunlight.

    What greeted them was a tropical island with an abandoned town. They learned about a mushroom leak that made soldiers fight bravely but turned them into zombies instead.

    they set the entire island ablaze to send a signal to other, ready to report to the Red Nation.

    Later, they were picked up by helicopters, from the 19 people trapped in the tunnel. Only seven made it out, and somehow, Alexis managed to keep her head together, thanks to the meds she¡¯d scavenged. Once in the lab, she got a thorough examination.

    Meanwhile, Ma was impressed with the survivors and started talking promotions.

    Duc shrugged, ¡°I¡¯d rather stay with the Bastard Brigade.¡±

    Yu piped up, ¡°I think I want to transfer to the Mechanized Brigade. I¡¯m tired of using my legs so much.¡±

    Patrick nod. ¡°I¡¯ll go with you.¡±

    Yu rolled her eyes. ¡°How many times do I have to tell you? This isn¡¯t New York. Choose your own path, Rick.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a Rick! Damn it, I just want to see something different, that¡¯s all!¡± Patrick shot back.

    Yu turned to Nara. ¡°What about you, girl?¡±

    Nara was still moping about the axe she lost on the ladder, a bit spaced out. ¡°Huh? Oh, yeah¡­ I think I¡¯ll go back to being a gladiator.¡±

    The group exchanged glances, eyebrows raised, clearly confused by her sudden shift.

    Ma interjected, ¡°What¡¯s your goal?¡±

    Nara grinned, ¡°I just wanna... get some attention.¡±

    Later in the Red Nation, in what used to be Anchorage, Canada, the streets were a riot of color, filled with flags fluttering in the chilly wind. Monitors mounted on towering buildings blared advertisements, each one dripping with a mix of patriotism and propaganda. It was a spectacle designed to instill pride and control perception in equal measure.

    Nara hopped off the mass transport, her boots crunching against the snow as she made her way through the bustling street. She had a specific destination in mind, and as she walked, she felt a mix of excitement and nerves.

    At the corner, a blonde woman in a striking white fur dress spotted her and waved. It was Maria. Nara couldn¡¯t help but smile as Maria rushed over to her, pulling her into a warm hug that made her cheeks flush.

    ¡°Hey, you!¡± Maria beamed. ¡°It¡¯s been too long!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it really has,¡± Nara replied, her voice muffled in Maria¡¯s embrace. They exchanged some casual banter, catching up on life in the bustling city, the cold air swirling around them.

    After a few minutes, they headed down the snowy street together, laughing and talking until they reached the entrance of a building lit up with neon lights. Above the door, the sign read ¡°Svatdisco.¡±

    ¡°Here it is! Svat now runs an AI VR tycoon,¡± Maria announced with a proud smile.

    They stepped inside, the warmth enveloping them as they entered the vibrant space filled with digital displays and futuristic decor. As they walked through, they passed rental rooms where clients were already immersed in their virtual worlds, lost in their own adventures.

    Finally, they reached the office room, and there, slumped in a chair, was Svat. He was a hefty man wearing a bodysuit and VR goggles, his unkempt beard making him barely recognizable.

    Nara smirked, feeling a mischievous urge as she marched over and yanked the goggles off his face.

    ¡°Aghhh! What the hell, Nara?! You¡¯re ruining the vibe!¡± Svat yelled, his red eyes glaring at her in disbelief.

    Nara just stood there, arms crossed, enjoying his frustration. The moment was too good to pass up until Svat finally noticed the new badge on her shoulder.

    ¡°Sergeant, huh?¡± he said, trying to sound impressed but failing.

    ¡°Actually, it¡¯s Second Sergeant of the Blitzt,¡± Nara replied, her chest puffing up with pride.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means,¡± Svat said, rolling his eyes.

    ¡°It means I¡¯m part of the Honor Guard,¡± Nara stated, a grin spreading across her face.

    ¡°I¡­ had no idea what that is. Do you still carry a gun or what?¡± Svat asked, sounding genuinely confused.

    ¡°Of course! I¡¯m part of the Bastard Brigade Vanguard!¡± Nara explained, enthusiasm bubbling over.

    Svat sighed, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°Just cut it out. I don¡¯t understand all this military jargon. Anyway, it looks cool. What do you want?¡±

    Nara raised an eyebrow, puzzled. ¡°Is that how you treat an old friend? What do I want? Pffft¡­¡±

    Svat¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Ahh, so you¡¯re lonely!¡±

    ¡°Shut up! No, you idiot!¡± Nara shot back, her face flushing again. ¡°I¡¯m here to get you back in the army. We need you to fight something greater than¡­ whatever this is.¡± She gestured at the VR setup on his desk.

    Svat laughed, a deep, hearty sound. ¡°You fool. The economy and controlling people¡¯s perceptions are important too! I¡¯m an important person, you see?¡±

    Nara rolled her eyes. ¡°You think playing video games and running a business makes you important? We¡¯re facing real threats out there. We need you back on the front lines!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯m doing important work here!¡± Svat argued, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. ¡°I can influence thousands without ever leaving this place.¡±

    Nara wasn¡¯t buying it. ¡°You¡¯re wasting your potential, Svat. You were a soldier! We fought side by side. Don¡¯t you miss it?¡±

    He shrugged, his expression shifting slightly as he seemed to consider her words. ¡°It¡¯s not the same anymore, Nara. The world has changed. People need to escape, and I can give that to them.¡±

    ¡°Escape or not, reality is crashing down around us,¡± she pressed, her tone earnest. ¡°You¡¯re needed. We can¡¯t afford to forget what we¡¯re fighting for.¡±

    Svat looked at her, the playful spark in his eyes dimming slightly. ¡°And what if I don¡¯t want to fight again? What if I¡¯m happy here?¡±

    Nara stepped closer, her voice softening. ¡°Then you¡¯re not really living, Svat. You¡¯re just existing. Don¡¯t you want more than that?¡±

    The silence stretched between them, the weight of their history hanging in the air. Finally, Svat sighed, rubbing his temples. ¡°You make a strong case, but I¡¯m not sure. I¡¯ve built something here. and i got everything here..so.. learn to accept.. different nara¡±

    nara sigh, turn dissapointed but then she had a strange feeling seeing dog dogi approach her. she then reluctanly pat his head

    maria then break the silence ¡°so.. what you will gain in join a gladiator combat again? do accepted in honor guard is not enough nara?¡±

    ¡°I want to be the best of the best.¡± She turned to leave, a determined glint in her eye. As she walked away, Maria exchanged a worried glance with Svat. They both sensed that Nara¡¯s desire for validation ran much deeper than she let on.

 Chapter 35 Lights Tibetan Campaign

    Meanwhile, on the border of the Purple Nation and the True Horde, there were some isolated Blood Khaganate territories. The Purple Nation was secretly sending soldiers as mercenaries to support the Wanderers, seeing them as the perfect proxy to weaken Red Nation influence without direct confrontation.

    Despite this, turmoil brewed within the Purple Nation, a melting pot of diverse populations from India, Pakistan, and China. Opinions about the Red Nation varied widely, but one soldier who had become a merc for the Wanderers was a legendary strategist.

    In the heart of the desert, where harsh snowy winds met gritty sand, an unusual sight awaited the foreign mercenaries. A modest wooden sign creaked in the wind, proclaiming: "4 Star Hotel." The paint was faded, but it still clung to the wood¡ªan.

    Among the motley crew was a man with dark hair and striking purple eyes, dressed in a formal white shirt. He was Light, the wandering strategist, and beside him stood Boris, a bulky man with weary eyes, leading his ragtag crew of mercenaries, vagabonds, and outlaws, approached the shack with a sarcastic chuckle

    ¡°Well, this looks luxurious,¡± Boris remarked, his tone dripping with mockery as they reached the shack. The rest of the crew exchanged tired glances, their exhaustion evident.

    Light eyed the dilapidated building with skepticism. ¡°Are you sure this is a 4-star hotel?¡±

    Boris shrugged and gestured toward the shack. ¡°It¡¯s got a pool. Compared to the tents we usually sleep in, this is luxury. So, yes, this is a 4-star hotel.¡±

    Light raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. ¡°You don¡¯t have higher standards?¡±

    ¡°Higher standards? You think you¡¯re an emperor or something? Should we be staying in a king¡¯s castle?¡± Boris shot back, irritation creeping into his voice.

    Light chuckled, unbothered. ¡°I¡¯ve stayed in a king¡¯s castle before, and it was pretty comfortable. But I¡¯m fine with whatever as long as it¡¯s safe and warm for sleeping.¡±

    ¡°Be grateful we have this,¡± Boris snapped. ¡°It¡¯s the best I can afford. Don¡¯t be an ungrateful bastard.¡±

    ¡°Relax, Boris. I¡¯ve seen worse. This isn¡¯t so bad,¡± Light replied, trying to defuse the tension.

    Eager to change the subject, Boris pointed to a map spread out on a nearby table. ¡°Forget about the shack. You see this map? That¡¯s the Tibet border.¡±

    Light nodded, glancing at the map. ¡°Yeah, I see it.¡±

    Boris¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°That¡¯s our first target. We¡¯re not just ambushing supply trucks this time; we¡¯re wiping out the whole garrison. Our client wants that border cleared, so gear up.¡±

    Light¡¯s smirk returned. ¡°Just clearing the border, huh? Sounds like a solid starting point. But are we up against any heavy hitters or just conscript soldiers?¡±

    Boris leaned back, confidence radiating from him. ¡°No worries. Reports say they¡¯re just conscripts¡ªbarely trained. All they¡¯ve got are standard-issue AKs, some SMGs, and a few anti-tank weapons. We¡¯ve got better gear; this should be a cakewalk.¡±

    Light¡¯s expression shifted to cautious optimism. ¡°If they don¡¯t have heavy guns or artillery, they¡¯re no real threat. But don¡¯t underestimate them. They might not be trained, but they¡¯ll fight like hell when cornered. So let¡¯s not get careless.¡±

    Boris nodded, acknowledging the concern. ¡°True, they¡¯ll fight when pressed. But we¡¯ve got the numbers and the terrain on our side. The area is flat and open, perfect for us to use our range advantage. As long as the supplies come in, we should win with minimal casualties.¡±

    ¡°Any points of concern we should keep an eye on?¡± Light asked, his focus sharpening.

    ¡°Yeah, the general in charge of that area. He¡¯s experienced and knows how to operate artillery like mortars and howitzers. He¡¯s a threat, and we need to take him out quickly.¡±

    Light¡¯s interest piqued. ¡°So the general is our primary target. I can handle that. Eliminate him, and the rest will crumble." He looked up, his gaze sharp. "But let''s not underestimate his guard. Even untrained dogs can bite if cornered."

    Boris waved dismissively. ¡°Just regular security with basic combat training. But there are a lot of them, and their morale will be high, so we need to take them out fast. Otherwise, they could stall our advance and support their general.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Light replied, nodding. ¡°Anything else we should worry about?¡±

    Boris shook his head, brimming with confidence. ¡°Nope, that¡¯s it. We have the upper hand. If we attack properly, it should be an easy win.¡±

    Light turned to the troops, rallying them. ¡°Alright, are we ready?¡±

    The mercenaries rallied with determination, shouting in unison, ¡°Yes!¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s move out!¡± Light ordered, a smirk on his face.

    As they raised their rifles, their battle cry echoed through the desert. They were primed for a swift, bloody assault.

    Leading the charge, Light knew the key was to keep the enemy on the defensive, preventing them from regrouping. He signaled his troops to strike from the rear, sowing chaos and confusion.

    The mercenaries executed his orders flawlessly, attacking with speed and precision from multiple angles. Some of the enemy, caught off guard, panicked and fled, while others struggled to regroup.

    Light shouted commands, directing his troops to target the enemy¡¯s regrouping points. He aimed to keep them in a state of panic and retreat. Keeping an eye on the general, he sought to isolate him from the battle.

    Light¡¯s troops pressed the attack, striking hard at the enemy¡¯s attempts to regroup. The enemy, now in disarray, continued to retreat, while the general remained pinned in his defensive position.

    Monitoring the general¡¯s movements, Light signaled his troops to cover the enemy¡¯s escape routes. He ordered his machine gun unit to provide suppressive fire on the general¡¯s position, pinning him down.

    The machine guns roared, preventing the general from escaping. With his options dwindling, the general faced a grim choice: fight to the death or surrender to Light¡¯s mercy.

    A glint of satisfaction flashed in Light¡¯s eyes. Everything was going according to plan. But a nagging thought lingered in the back of his mind: "What about enemy reinforcements? Are they on their way, or do we have time to finish off the general first?"

    The report was clear: no reinforcements were expected anytime soon. The government needed time to reassess the situation, which would take at least 12 hours. No reinforcements were coming.

    Light nodded, determination solidifying. ¡°So we have plenty of time to deal with the general first. Then why wait¡­¡± He signaled his troops to advance, keeping the general pinned under machine gun fire while ordering one unit to surround him.

    The battle was far from over, but victory was within reach.He signaled his troops to advance further, keeping the general''s position under machine gun fire while ordering one unit to surround the general.

    The troops sprang into action, moving swiftly behind the general''s position and surrounding him completely. The guy was trapped, no way out. His soldiers were losing steam fast, their morale crumbling under the weight of Light''s relentless assault.

    Light took a moment to survey the scene before giving one last signal to his troops. The general was boxed in, and it was time to finish this. ¡°Let¡¯s wrap it up,¡± he commanded, and his troops surged forward, ready to deliver the final blow.

    In an explosive rush, they charged in, some tossing grenades while others opened fire. A few went in swinging machetes. Chaos erupted inside the general¡¯s camp, but Light¡¯s crew was too well-coordinated; they overwhelmed the enemy forces in no time. Now, the general was at the mercy of the Wanderers. The big question was: what would they do with him?Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Light strolled toward the general, a smirk creeping onto his face. The general¡¯s eyes darted around at the mercenaries closing in on him, desperation etched across his features. Light stopped just a meter away and asked, ¡°What do you want?¡± the general ask with voice rising. but deep down he wanna see a other day

    Light¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°I¡¯ve got one question for you,¡± he teased, knowing it would be painful to answer. ¡°Will you surrender and accept defeat, or are you going to fight to the bitter end?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll never surrender to you!¡± the general shot back defiantly, but before he could finish, two of Light¡¯s men lunged forward, grabbing him and forcing him to kneel. They pressed their guns to his head¡ªa clear threat.

    Light watched with a grin as the general¡¯s bravado crumbled. ¡°You can still change your mind, you know. Surrender now, and I can guarantee you¡¯ll walk away from this.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t surrender,¡± the general spat, clinging desperately to his pride even as he knelt there, defeated.

    Light chuckled, inching closer, his smirk unwavering. ¡°You sure about that? Because if you don¡¯t surrender, I promise you won¡¯t survive this day.¡±

    The general¡¯s eyes widened, realizing the gravity of Light¡¯s words. He understood that refusing to surrender meant certain death. Yet, even with that knowledge, he stood firm, choosing honor over his life.

    Light leaned in, close enough to smell the general¡¯s fear. ¡°One last chance. Are you absolutely sure?¡±

    The general met his gaze, his expression steely and resolute. No words came; he simply stared, defiance radiating from him.

    Light couldn¡¯t help but admire the guy¡¯s spirit. ¡°You¡¯ve got guts, I¡¯ll give you that. You¡¯d rather die than give in. That¡¯s kinda impressive.¡± He stepped even closer, his grin growing. ¡°But it¡¯s also a little silly. This is the first time I¡¯ve met a soldier who¡¯d rather die than surrender. This day just got a lot more interesting¡­¡±

    The general¡¯s glare intensified, a mix of rage and contempt. He knew Light was toying with him, but he wouldn¡¯t flinch. Staring down the barrel of Light¡¯s gun, he dared him to pull the trigger.

    Bored with the stare-down, Light finally stepped back, raising a hand. His troops mirrored him, guns trained on the general.

    The general¡¯s glare didn¡¯t waver, now fueled by a burning hatred. He breathed heavily, his body trembling with barely contained fury. ¡°I¡¯m a soldier, loyal to my nation! I¡¯ll die as a man, not as a coward! If you want my life, then by all means, take it! I¡¯d rather face death than surrender to the likes of you!¡±

    Light burst out laughing, a loud, genuine laugh that echoed through the room. ¡°Oh, my. Such drama!¡± He wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. ¡°You know, if this wasn¡¯t a war, I¡¯d offer you a part in my next play.¡±

    Meanwhile, Boris circled the room. Despite his hardened exterior, he felt a growing unease. Was Light about to cross a line? Would he torture this poor bastard, or was this just another one of his sick jokes? His gaze landed on a document on the desk. Cassio. The general¡¯s name. One of just two the last top generals of the crumbling Khaganate. while the rest is dead or captured on various front,  Boris looked at Cassio, a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, hoping Light would just stop.

    Light¡¯s laughter subsided, but the smile remained, now with a distinctly unsettling edge. ¡°Seriously, though. This is becoming quite the spectacle. How long can you keep this up, General? It¡¯s almost¡­ performance art.¡±

    Suddenly, a soldier burst in, shouting, ¡°Sir! Enemy reinforcements are coming! They have a Hind!¡±

    Light¡¯s smile instantly vanished. He lowered his hand, his voice sharp and commanding. ¡°Everyone, take cover! Reinforcements! Hold the line!¡± He barked orders to his machine gun units, preparing for the attack.

    His troops sprang into action, retreating to their defensive positions. The machine gun units got ready, spotting the enemy reinforcements approaching from the south¡ªan Mi-24 Hind, tanks, and a transport aircraft. This was a serious force, and they were coming in hot.

    Light frowned as he assessed the situation. ¡°Oh damn¡­ this is bad. But no worries, we can handle this. Everyone, hold your positions. We¡¯ll meet their reinforcements with our machine gun units and minefields. It won¡¯t be a stalemate here!¡±

    His troops nodded, keeping their cool. They knew they could hold the line. Sure, the enemy reinforcements were big, but they were ready to defend. Following Light¡¯s orders, they weren¡¯t giving an inch.

    As Light watched his units dig in, he began searching for weaknesses in the enemy¡¯s defenses. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s a way we can turn this around¡­¡±

    He noticed the enemy had weak air defenses¡ªonly one Hind covering their entire force. If his air unit could take that bird down, it would open up a huge opportunity for his troops.

    ¡°This is our chance! We need to exploit their weak air defense! Get my ace pilot on that Hind! And everyone, focus fire on it! If we take out their air support, we can push them back without worrying about getting bombed!¡±

    The troops quickly responded, raising their weapons and zeroing in on the Hind. Light¡¯s ace pilot sprang into action, using a modified glidder dodging enemy fire as he flew toward the target. The Hind tried to evade with some slick maneuvers, but Light¡¯s ace stayed locked on and scored a hit.

    Light couldn¡¯t hide his excitement as he watched the Hind go down. ¡°Yes! Finally, we took out their air support. Now we can breathe a little easier.¡± He turned to his troops, all fired up. ¡°Now, take out that transport aircraft! We can¡¯t let those reinforcements reach us! Call in artillery support to the front! We need to destroy them before they get close!¡±

    His troops reacted instantly, opening fire on the transport aircraft. Even the machine gun units switched their targets. The artillery unit got the message, redirecting their fire and unleashing devastating explosions on the enemy reinforcements.

    Light grinned at the chaos they had unleashed. ¡°We¡¯ve blown a massive hole in their formation! Now¡¯s our chance to push them out!¡± He bellowed his command, ¡°All troops, move forward! Drive the enemy back to our main line! Don¡¯t give them a second to regroup! We¡¯ll turn this front into a slaughterhouse!¡±

    His troops sprang into action, charging toward the enemy reinforcements. Light kept the front line firing and advancing, but the enemy didn¡¯t sit idle¡ªthey opened fire, and the battlefield erupted into a brutal bloodbath. Casualties piled up on both sides, and it was getting messy fast. Light just hoped his troops wouldn¡¯t lose their cool.

    Amidst the chaos, Light noticed his troops holding their ground. They kept their formation and returned fire, even as the enemy pushed back. It was a sign of a solid unit, but the cost was high. He could see the death toll rising, and he prayed his men wouldn¡¯t break under pressure¡ªthat would just lead to more unnecessary losses.

    Then he spotted it¡ªa gap in the enemy line. The troops on either side of it weren¡¯t well coordinated, too focused on their main defenses to notice. ¡°That¡¯s our ticket!¡± Light thought, excitement coursing through him.

    Without wasting a moment, he shouted, ¡°Infantry, push through that gap! Machine gun unit, cover their advance and keep firing at the main force! Break through and don¡¯t stop until you reach their command center! Once you¡¯re in, our machine gunners will focus on the main force, and our ace will keep air support. Artillery, you know what to do¡ªcreate more gaps and cut off any reinforcements coming in!¡±

    His troops roared in response, charging toward the gap with the machine gunners laying down cover fire. Light¡¯s ace pilot kept watch, ready to take out any lingering enemy air support, while the artillery pounded the enemy¡¯s rear line, cutting off reinforcements. Light¡¯s troops surged forward, transforming the gap into a deadly trap for the enemy.

    ¡°This is it,¡± Light thought, adrenaline pumping. ¡°One mistake could spell disaster. We¡¯ve got to keep our heads and move with precision. If we play this right, we can wipe them out!¡±

    Everyone was laser-focused, no one daring to mess up. The machine gunners unleashed hell on the enemy¡¯s main line, making sure they couldn¡¯t even peek out to return fire. Light¡¯s ace pilot scanned the skies, taking down any enemy aircraft trying to make a move.

    Then it happened¡ªthe enemy started to retreat. Some soldiers dropped their weapons and ran, while only a few stubborn ones hung on. Light¡¯s troops kept the pressure on, pushing the main force back toward their rear line. The machine gunners turned their fire on the incoming reinforcements, keeping them pinned down. The ace pilot maintained air superiority, swiftly taking out any approaching aircraft. The enemy was cut off and isolated.

    Light watched as his troops advanced, the machine gunners hammering the enemy¡¯s position. The advantage was theirs. ¡°No room for mistakes now. I¡¯ve got to keep everyone sharp. We can¡¯t let the enemy exploit any openings. If we keep this up, we¡¯ll deal them a crushing blow. This is our moment to finish this fight!¡±

    The air crackled with tension. Every soldier knew exactly what they had to do, The soldiers with the rapid-fire guns kept the enemy pinned down, making it impossible for them to show themselves. Light''s ace kept the skies clear, destroying any planes that came near

    As the enemy continued to crumble, more and more soldiers threw down their weapons and fled. Only the most stubborn kept fighting. Light¡¯s troops pressed on, driving the main force back, while the machine gunners focused on the incoming reinforcements. It was a symphony of gunfire and chaos as they isolated their foes.

    aftermath of battlefield, it was chaos. Bodies of enemy soldiers littered the ground, wrecked tanks smoldered in the fading light, and smoke hung thick in the air. The scene was a complete disaster, but their enemy was decimated.

    As the sun dipped below the horizon, the remaining merc started looting the dead, finishing off the wounded like it was some twisted game. They waved their weapons in the air, firing randomly and celebrating their little victory, wasting ammo like it was nothing.

    Boris stood next to Light, surveying the wreckage. ¡°The Khaganate is no more. They¡¯ve been defeated on every front,¡± he said, his voice steady.

    Light nodded, his eyes locked on the sunset, lost in thought.

    One week later, Alam was determined to reach the new general who had led the Wanderer mercenaries to victory in Tibet. His name was Light, a rising star in the world of warlords, and Alam had a campaign of his own brewing.

    ¡°Alright, I hear you led a successful campaign in Tibet without reinforcements,¡± Alam began, trying to sound as casual as possible.

    ¡°Mhm,¡± Light replied, a sly smile creeping across his face. ¡°Without too many casualties among my troops. Feels good to win like this.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Alam waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Anyway, I need your expert advice on my campaign to conquer the Xian Empire. I need your insight.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing! Lay it on me. What are we working with here? Your army? The enemy¡¯s? Their positions? Resources?¡± Light leaned back, clearly intrigued.

    Alam took a deep breath. ¡°Okay, my army has besieged the capital. They seem blissfully unaware of my actual numbers. Right now, I¡¯ve got 100 veteran infantry, 10 IFVs, and 1 Hind. Meanwhile, Xian has over a thousand troops and anti-aircraft defenses. They¡¯ve got two strong points: Xian City and Xianyang City, separated by a river.¡±

    ¡°Oof, sounds rough,¡± Light remarked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re outnumbered and outgunned. They¡¯ve got heavy weaponry and two easily defensible cities. And a river? That¡¯s just unfair! But hey, what¡¯s your plan?¡±

    Alam straightened up, his determination shining through. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve ordered a dam to be built. I¡¯m planning to flood them out and force them to rethink their defenses. My first target is Xianyang to the north. The dam is already under construction, and I¡¯m speeding things up by working with the locals for tools and manpower. I¡¯m raiding their resources too. The plan is to make Xian City unable to attack while I focus on Xianyang. I¡¯m going to destroy the bridge between them to cut off reinforcements. My raiding party is already hitting Xianyang now.¡±

    Light nodded appreciatively. ¡°Hmm, good plan, but watch out for a counterattack from the south. Be ready to move your troops to intercept. And about your raiding party? If they get trapped, they¡¯re toast.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got that covered,¡± Alam replied confidently. ¡°I built decoy IFVs and a decoy Hind to take the first hits near the dam. My raiders are seasoned guerrilla fighters; they¡¯ll attack at random intervals to keep the enemy guessing.¡±

    ¡°Smart! If you pull this off, Xianyang will fall like ripe fruit,¡± Light said, leaning back further. ¡°Just remember, don¡¯t underestimate the enemy.¡±

    Alam sighed heavily. ¡°The dam¡¯s construction is taking six months... How do I keep my true numbers hidden?¡±

    Light shrugged. ¡°Why keep it a secret? They already underestimate you. If they feared you, they would¡¯ve countered on day one.¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± Alam replied, frustration creeping into his voice. ¡°If they thought I was a real threat, they¡¯d have attacked. They¡¯re still scared of me, I think.¡±

    ¡°I get it,¡± Light said, nodding. ¡°But if it were me, I¡¯d want to finish them off quickly. Sieges are a drag. And don¡¯t forget¡ªdestroy their crops! Starve them out and cut their supply lines.¡±

    Light grinned. ¡°Just my two cents. Your plan is solid; just watch the execution and timing.¡±

    ¡°Classic advice,¡± Alam said with a hint of sarcasm. ¡°But I want to be a liberator, not a conqueror. If I wanted to wipe out Xian, I¡¯d just carpet bombing them¡±

    ¡°Really? You want their trust? That¡¯s ambitious!¡± Light chuckled. ¡°Just remember, the faster you win without bloodshed, the better your reputation. And for the love of all that¡¯s holy, don¡¯t get addicted to victory like I did. You¡¯ll regret it!¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Alam replied, a thoughtful look crossing his face. ¡°I¡¯m actually thinking of some propaganda. The nearby settlements are sympathetic to my cause¡ªthey trade with us and even provide manpower. Maybe a coup?¡±

    ¡°Now we¡¯re talking!¡± Light said, his eyes lighting up. ¡°Make a deal with the local merchant union. If they¡¯re on your side, you won¡¯t even need propaganda¡ªthey¡¯ll do the heavy lifting for you. And about that coup¡­ anyone got a grudge against the emperor?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Alam said, scratching his chin. ¡°The Xian Empire has a mediocre reputation, but there¡¯s someone even more hated nearby. Luckily, my forces are the most respected.¡±

    ¡°Perfect! If you can get support from someone more hated than the emperor, you¡¯re golden. Just remember, keep it clean¡ªmanipulate the political scene instead of going full Rambo. Less blood, more community support,¡± Light advised.

    ¡°Uh, I¡¯ve never staged a coup before. What do you suggest?¡± Alam asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

    ¡°Win over the richest, most influential merchant. Get their favor, and you can sway the others. Use favors, gifts, or even a little blackmail. Whatever works! They¡¯ll spread the word that the emperor¡¯s a tyrant and you¡¯re the fair alternative,¡± Light said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

    Alam frowned, considering the implications. He¡¯d used similar tactics against the Khaganate and the Flying Dragon, but those were smaller, more contained operations. Spreading rumors across a vast, populated territory like the Xian Empire felt¡­ different. More toxic.

    ¡°Spreading rumors sounds shady, but it¡¯s better than bombs or poison gas. I¡¯ll save that plan for later,¡± Alam replied,

    ¡°Exactly! If you want a quick win, propaganda is your best friend. Prove to the people the emperor is a tyrant who doesn¡¯t care about their welfare. Show them you¡¯re the fair and just alternative.¡± Light leaned forward, his enthusiasm growing. ¡°If you do it right, the people will believe every word you say. Just remember, be charming!¡±

 Chapter 36 Xian campaign

    The next day, Alam returned to the siege of Xian as dark clouds loomed overhead, unleashing a relentless downpour.

    This was the gateway to China¡ªthe Xian Empire, a remnant of the old government acting like medieval emperors, residing in an ancient palace. The city was surrounded by walls made from the ruins of ancient skyscrapers, and local bandits patrolled the area. To the Xian emperor, the True Horde was just another pesky warlord, blissfully unaware of the looming threat posed by the Red Nation in the bigger picture. Capturing and defeating the Xian Empire was crucial for Alam.

    The capital was split by the Wei River: Xian to the south, Xianyang to the north. The walls, built from ruined buildings, were sloped against artillery but still tough.

    Fang, observing the city from a distance, spotted an open field with minimal cover¡ªjust the foundations of the old city. Xian City was a fortress beyond.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re in for a storm,¡± Fang remarked, glancing at the ominous sky. ¡°We should prepare for flooding that could impact our operations.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Alam replied, squinting at the rain-soaked landscape. ¡°But what about the enemy? Any signs of movement?¡±

    Fang shook her head, her expression serious. ¡°According to the latest intel, the Empire of Xian is gearing up for a counterattack. They¡¯re reinforcing their defenses and positioning troops near our dam construction site. Expect an attack very soon.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± Alam sighed. ¡°I underestimated them. I thought they¡¯d be scared of our numbers, but this rainy season will help us¡ªit¡¯ll slow them down in the open. But if they stick to the roads, we¡¯re in trouble. So, let¡¯s put mines on that damn road!¡±

    ¡°Good call,¡± Fang agreed. ¡°The rain could give us a tactical advantage, but we have to make sure they don¡¯t take the roads easily. Those mines will slow them down and cause chaos.¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± Alam¡¯s confidence surged. ¡°Plus, the threat to the dam will be more pressing with the rain. And listen, one of my new officers suggested we could win this battle quickly and pull off a coup. We can spread rumors and propaganda in the city.¡±

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a plan,¡± Fang said, her eyes lighting up. ¡°The rain will certainly increase the threat to our dam, and chaos within the Empire of Xian could make this battle much easier for us. We should absolutely push that idea forward.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, my best agent isn¡¯t here,¡± Alam said, frustration creeping in. ¡°I need someone new to handle the propaganda while I oversee the dam construction and defenses.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Fang replied. ¡°It¡¯s a shame your top agent isn¡¯t around, but we can¡¯t neglect the dam or our forces. I¡¯ll find a suitable candidate for the propaganda operation.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Fang. Find a volunteer,¡± Alam instructed, feeling the pressure of leadership tighten around him.

    By the fourth day of the siege, Alam was growing impatient.

    ¡°The siege has reached its fourth day,¡± Fang reported. ¡°We¡¯re maintaining pressure on the enemy¡¯s defenses, making slow but steady progress. We¡¯re using our superior numbers and firepower to wear them down piece by piece. Mine-laying and air attacks are further sapping their morale.¡±

    ¡°Great. And what about our agent?¡± Alam asked, eager for updates.

    ¡°Good news! I¡¯ve identified a suitable candidate for our propaganda operation,¡± Fang said, her voice brimming with excitement. ¡°They¡¯re a loyal volunteer, ready to execute this task effectively.¡±

    ¡°Send them to me now,¡± Alam ordered, feeling a surge of hope.

    Fang nodded and dispatched the volunteer agent to Alam¡¯s location.

    Moments later, a young man approached, a confident smile on his face.

    ¡°My name is Jiang,¡± he said, extending his hand. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you and work with the Wanderer Army. I¡¯m ready to execute the propaganda and rumor-spreading operation. I understand the sensitivity of this task, and I¡¯ll carry it out with precision.¡±

    Alam eyed Jiang, impressed. ¡°Alright, Jiang. We need to create chaos in the Empire of Xian. Your job is to spread rumors that undermine their morale and create dissent. Can you handle that?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Jiang replied confidently. ¡°I¡¯ve got experience in this sort of operation. Just give me the green light, and I¡¯ll make it happen.¡±

    ¡°Good. Show me what you¡¯ve got,¡± Alam said, curious about Jiang¡¯s qualifications.

    Jiang activated his camouflage cloak, transforming into a shimmering, water-like figure, before returning to his normal appearance.

    Alam blinked in surprise, impressed. ¡°Okay, I see you¡¯ve got skills. But why betray your empire?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a former spy for the Empire of Xian,¡± Jiang explained calmly. ¡°I defected to the Wanderer Army after witnessing the atrocities committed against its people. I couldn¡¯t support such a cruel regime anymore. The Wanderer Army stands for freedom and justice, and I believe in its fight against the Empire.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Alam said, narrowing his eyes. ¡°But how do I know you¡¯re not a double agent?¡±

    Jiang met Alam¡¯s gaze steadily. ¡°I assure you, I¡¯m not a double agent. I¡¯ve sworn an oath to serve the Wanderer Army. I understand the importance of my work, and I won¡¯t falter in my loyalty.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow. ¡°What kind of atrocities are we talking about?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve documented many atrocities committed by the Empire of Xian,¡± Jiang replied. ¡°Mass indoctrination, imprisonment of dissidents, brutal oppression of minorities, forced labor camps¡ªyou name it. they even work with local bandit to created cycle of violence. to justify their power,  I couldn¡¯t stay in a regime rife with evil.¡±

    ¡°Do you have evidence to support your claims?¡± Alam asked, skeptical.

    ¡°Yes, I do,¡± Jiang said, producing a data disc. ¡°This contains footage, testimonies, and documentation of the Empire¡¯s brutality. It¡¯s all up-to-date and could be useful for our propaganda efforts.¡±

    ¡°Show me,¡± Alam demanded, intrigued.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Jiang handed over the disc. ¡°It paints a clear picture of the Empire¡¯s cruelty. I hope it can assist you and the Wanderer Army.¡±

    Alam examined the disc, tapping his lips thoughtfully. ¡°Alright, Jiang. I¡¯m halfway to trusting you.¡± He handed Jiang a silenced pistol.

    Jiang took the pistol, inspecting it closely. ¡°I appreciate your trust. I¡¯ll use this to ensure our operations are carried out discreetly.¡±

    Alam chuckled. ¡°Just so you know, that pistol is unloaded. You¡¯re not about to kill me with a toy.¡±

    Jiang nodded, unfazed. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s a prop for intimidation. I understand your caution, and I¡¯ll prove my loyalty.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so what¡¯s your plan for spreading rumors and propaganda?¡± Alam asked, eager for details.

    Jiang grinned. ¡°It¡¯s a three-tiered operation. First, we¡¯ll spread rumors about the Empire¡¯s oppression using covert channels like whispering campaigns. Second, we¡¯ll distribute propaganda materials¡ªpamphlets, leaflets, you name it. Lastly, we¡¯ll leverage my underground contacts to amplify our message.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯ve got a tunnel network? Impressive! So, this siege is your chance, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Jiang replied. ¡°The siege provides the perfect opportunity to exploit my network and spread chaos. I believe we can undermine the Empire¡¯s authority and create instability.¡±

    ¡°Alright, Jiang. You¡¯ll conduct some... creative operations. We can provide you with the tools,¡± Alam said, feeling more confident about their chances.

    ¡°I¡¯m skilled in the techniques of sabotage and subterfuge,¡± Jiang said, a hint of mischief in his eyes. ¡°Just give me what I need, and I¡¯ll handle the rest.¡±

    ¡°Good. Speak to Fang. She¡¯ll set you up with everything you need,¡± Alam instructed.

    ¡°Got it,¡± Jiang replied. ¡°Before I head out, what¡¯s the situation like in Xian?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s tense and unstable,¡± Jiang noted. ¡°The siege has instilled fear and uncertainty among the citizens. They¡¯re facing food shortages and rising prices, creating a real sense of unrest that we can take advantage of.¡±

    ¡°Perfect,¡± Alam said, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°I don¡¯t want this siege to drag on. Jiang, you¡¯re my joker card now. Good luck out there.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t let you down,¡± Jiang said, saluting with determination. ¡°Let¡¯s show the Empire of Xian the true strength of the Wanderer Army and unite the people against their oppressors. We will triumph!¡±

    As the siege dragged on, the rain continued its relentless assault on the fifth day, providing a perfect backdrop for Jiang¡¯s covert mission. Cloaked in his chameleon-like camouflage, he effortlessly scaled the rain-slicked walls, moving with the practiced ease of a seasoned infiltrator. Not a single alarm was triggered, not a guard alerted to his presence. He slipped into the city like a phantom, melting into the shadows of the narrow, rain-washed streets. His destination: MC Pizza and Grill.

    The establishment wasn¡¯t exactly a culinary hotspot¡ªmore of a greasy spoon masquerading as a fast-food joint. But for Jiang, it was HQ. Inside, he shed his cloak, revealing the familiar red and white uniform of an MC Pizza delivery driver. He pulled a matching cap low over his face, effectively completing his disguise. Beneath a stack of pizza boxes, carefully concealed, lay his true cargo: carefully crafted propaganda messages, ready to be disseminated throughout the city.

    He set off, a stack of "hot and ready" lies and half-truths balanced precariously in his arms. He navigated the rain-slicked streets with practiced ease, blending seamlessly with the flow of civilian traffic. The Xian guards, with their distinctive yellow uniforms, modern body armor, and tightly bound hair secured with red ribbons, were a stark contrast to the ragtag appearance of the local populace and the remnants of other warlord¡¯s armies. The higher-ranking officers, however, were a different story. They sported advanced tech, like the AI sensor mounted on one officer¡¯s shoulder, which scanned the surrounding area with cold, calculating precision.

    As Jiang rounded a corner, he came face-to-face with one such officer. The sensor swivelled, fixing its unblinking eye on him. ¡°Halt!¡± the officer barked, his voice amplified by a small speaker on his collar.

    Jiang froze for a split second, weighing his options. Flight was risky, compliance a gamble. He opted for the latter, plastering a disarming, innocent expression on his face as he turned to face the officer.

    The sensor whirred, scanning Jiang from head to toe. ¡°You failed to report to the city line yesterday,¡± the officer stated, gesturing to small devices mounted at each street corner, designed to monitor civilian movement and maintain order.

    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± Jiang stammered, feigning a wince and holding up a hand, the knuckles faintly reddened. ¡°Had a little¡­ kitchen accident, you know? Burnt my hand pretty bad. Had to see the doc.¡± The redness, of course, was from his earlier climb over the rough stone of the city wall.

    The officer paused, his sensor still fixed on Jiang. For a tense moment, Jiang held his breath. Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, the officer grunted, ¡°Move along.¡±

    Jiang offered a quick nod of thanks and continued on his delivery route, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. He could feel the officer¡¯s sensor tracking him for a few more moments before it finally turned away.

    With renewed focus, Jiang resumed his clandestine campaign.. The seeds of doubt and discontent were sown. Confusion and mistrust began to fester within the population, slowly eroding the Empire¡¯s control.

    Later that midday, the rain continued to pour, and Alam sat in the makeshift tent, surrounded by his officers. Most of them were new recruits from the Mongolian warlord ranks who had joined the True Horde.

    ¡°Alright, how¡¯s our progress with the mines and traps on the road?¡± Alam asked, shifting his attention to the officer standing before him.

    ¡°Your Excellency¡¯, our progress is right on track,¡± the officer replied, visibly trying to impress. ¡°We¡¯ve deployed the mines and traps in key locations and are finalizing their operational readiness. We¡¯ve even set up remote-detonation capabilities, so we can trigger them at our discretion. We expect everything to be ready within the next two days.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam nodded, feeling a surge of confidence. ¡°That should discourage any enemy counterattack. I just hope they don¡¯t know our real numbers. If they do, their morale will skyrocket.¡±

    ¡°Unlikely,¡± the officer reassured him. ¡°We¡¯ve concealed our forces well. The enemy is probably underestimating us. As long as we keep our numbers hidden, we can maintain their low morale until the right moment to strike.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. I have high hopes for our new agent. If he succeeds, there might not even be a need for a siege or a flood plan,¡± Alam said, a hint of optimism creeping into his voice.

    ¡°Absolutely, Excellency¡¯. Our new agent has shown remarkable skill,¡± the officer said, his enthusiasm palpable. ¡°If he continues to influence the population within the Empire of Xian, we could end this siege sooner than expected. The weakened regime will be ripe for the picking!¡±

    ¡°Please, don¡¯t call me ¡®Your Excellency¡¯! It makes me sound like a bloated emperor or something!¡± Alam chuckled, shaking his head.

    The officer stammered, ¡°I apologize, Sir! What should I call you? Lord? Sire? Your Highness?¡±

    ¡°Just ¡®Sir¡¯ or ¡®General¡¯ is fine. I don¡¯t care about titles,¡± Alam replied, rolling his eyes.

    ¡°Understood, Sir. Your leadership has been crucial to our campaign. It¡¯s an honor to serve you,¡± the officer said, his tone dripping with sincerity.

    ¡°Alright, what¡¯s your rank, officer?¡± Alam asked, trying to remember names and faces in the chaos of war.

    ¡°I¡¯m a Major, Sir. I¡¯ve been instrumental in strategizing and executing our military operations since the inception of the Wanderer Army. I¡¯ve learned a lot from your strategic wisdom,¡± the officer said, puffing out his chest.

    ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s just hard to remember everyone¡¯s face and name,¡± Alam admitted, feeling a bit guilty.

    ¡°No need to apologize, Sir. In war, it¡¯s tough to keep track of names. Just focus on the campaign,¡± the officer reassured him. ¡°We¡¯ve made tremendous progress, and the time to strike is approaching. Let¡¯s keep morale high.¡±

    ¡°Right. Keep up the good work,¡± Alam said, feeling a sense of camaraderie wash over him.

    The sixth morning of the siege dawned clear. From his vantage point, Alam scanned Xian through his binoculars. The siege was proceeding as planned. The rain had stopped, revealing the Wanderer Army¡¯s network of mines and traps, now ready for detonation. Sharpshooters traded fire across the muddy field, the distinct crack of Wanderer rifles finding their mark more often than not. When enemy mortars targeted their snipers, IFVs promptly retrieved them, maintaining their advantage. The city gates remained firmly shut, the Xian defenders showing no signs of aggression. Alam watched his troops move with disciplined efficiency along the perimeter.

    ¡°This is weird,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°They have the numbers, but why haven¡¯t they attacked yet? Is Jiang doing his job well?¡±

    Meanwhile, Jiang had been busy conducting covert operations aimed at weakening the Empire of Xian''s authority. His tactics included spreading anti-Xian rumors, assassinating key government officials, and bombing crucial infrastructure. These efforts had sown confusion and mistrust among the population, significantly undermining the Empire''s legitimacy.

    So far, all signs pointed to success. The enemy forces hadn¡¯t launched a counterattack or increased their aerial bombardments.

    ¡°Maybe they¡¯re just waiting for the right moment to strike,¡± Alam mused, adjusting his binoculars. ¡°Or maybe they¡¯re too busy dealing with their own mess. Either way, we need to capitalize on this.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that Jiang¡¯s influence was working wonders. If the Empire of Xian was crumbling from the inside, the Wanderer Army might just have a shot at a swift victory. The rain might have turned into a metaphorical storm for their enemies, and Alam was ready to ride that wave to success.

    On the seven day of the siege of Xian, the rain continued to pour, drenching Alam as he surveyed the dam''s construction from his tent. Progress was steady¡ªalmost too steady¡ªand Alam could see the dam nearing completion. But he knew better than to pop the champagne just yet. The Wanderer Army¡¯s mining and trapping operations could disrupt everything, but he needed to wait to see how that played out.

    ¡°Hey! This is moving faster than we planned!¡± Alam called to Fang, who was busy scribbling notes. ¡°Let¡¯s send a letter to the Empire of Xian, asking them to surrender. They¡¯re aware of what we¡¯re capable of, right?¡±

    ¡°As you wish, General,¡± Fang replied, rolling her eyes at the formality. ¡°I¡¯ll deliver the letter. The Wanderer Army has shown its power. The Empire must know the disaster that awaits them if we follow through with the flood plan. I¡¯ll dispatch it immediately and return with their answer.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± Alam said, rubbing his hands together. ¡°Now, let¡¯s see if they have the sense to save their skins.¡±

    The next morning, as a mild rain drizzled from the gray sky, Alam sat anxiously in his tent, waiting for Fang¡¯s return. Hours dragged on until a messenger burst in, breathless and soaked.

    ¡°What do they say?¡± Alam asked, barely able to contain his anticipation. while other officer look at the messeger with anticipation

    The messenger shook his head, ¡°The Empire of Xian refuses to surrender.¡± He then give the letter''s ''We will not give our land to you, you smelly Turk. Our walls are strong. Our soldiers are virtuous. Bring on your slings and arrows.''¡±

    Alam read the letter, his expression hardening. he actually impressed they bother to write on paper with ink for archaic insult,alam clear his throat ¡°So, they choose defiance,¡± he said, his voice flat. ¡°Very well. The flood will proceed as planned.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, General,¡± the messenger confirmed. ¡°Our attempts at negotiation have failed. This is the only way to achieve a swift victory.¡±

    Alam nodded, his gaze fixed on the map of the region. ¡°A swift victory is what we need. This isn¡¯t about breaking their spirit; it¡¯s about ending this conflict quickly and minimizing further losses on both sides.¡± He sighed. ¡°Casualties will be unavoidable¡­ but perhaps fewer than a prolonged siege.¡±

    Alam notice the grim atsmosphere in tent,he then change his tone a bit to make less gloomy Alam sighed, a weary smile touching his lips. "Well, they asked for it. Let''s see if their virtous soldier can swim."some officer face is light up again.

 Chapter 37 The flood

    A few hours later, with an umbrella in hand, Alam strolled to a nearby village, seeking the middle-aged woman who sold him tea a week ago. He found her still at her stall, a warm smile lighting up her face despite the rain-slicked streets.

    ¡°Ah, General Alam! It¡¯s good to see you again,¡± she greeted, though Alam noticed the streets were quieter, the siege taking its toll on the villagers.

    ¡°Hey there! So, umm, do you know who I am?¡± he asked, half-joking.

    ¡°Of course, General,¡± she replied, pouring him a cup of tea. ¡°I¡¯ve seen the banners flying high over Xian¡¯s walls. It¡¯s a pleasure to see you again, though I¡¯m afraid business is slow these days.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m kind of famous now, huh?¡± Alam said, sipping his tea with a heavy sigh.

    ¡°Oh, absolutely! Your campaign against the Empire has made quite the impression. But tell me, how is the siege going?¡± she asked, genuine curiosity in her eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a stalemate,¡± Alam admitted, scratching his head. ¡°But there¡¯s a reason I built that dam. I plan to defeat the Empire of Xian the hard way.¡±

    ¡°A stalemate? Really? I expected you to have overwhelmed them by now,¡± she replied, surprised. ¡°But I suppose their determination to defend themselves is commendable. Do you have a plan to end this?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve found some deserters from the Empire. They agreed to cause chaos inside the city, but it hasn¡¯t been enough to make them surrender. Do you know how their government works?¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see. The deserters didn¡¯t do the trick, huh? Well, I¡¯m no expert, but the Empire operates under a patriarchal feudal system. The Emperor is the absolute ruler, surrounded by elite families who control everything. It¡¯s a tight-knit group,¡± she explained.

    ¡°So the Emperor is secretive, then?¡± Alam asked, intrigued.

    ¡°Yes, he¡¯s been reclusive for years. Only a handful of trusted advisors are close to him. He¡¯s become something of a ghost,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Interesting. You¡¯ve lived here long, right? Did the Empire always have this grip on power?¡± Alam pressed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve lived here for years. The Empire of Xian has ruled for over two centuries, though much of its history is a mystery. They¡¯ve faced internal conflicts, but they¡¯ve maintained dominance,¡± she said.

    ¡°Wow, shocking that nobody¡¯s heard of this empire before. Oh! Did the Blood Khaganate attack this area too?¡± Alam suddenly asked.

    ¡°Yes, indeed,¡± she said, a hint of fear in her voice. ¡°The Blood Khaganate has historically been a dominant force, waging war against anyone for control. They¡¯ve attacked this village and surrounding areas before, leaving a trail of bloodshed. Their presence has caused much instability in the region.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any idea how many soldiers are garrisoned in Xian City?¡± he asked the middle-aged woman selling tea.

    ¡°I can¡¯t give you exact numbers, but I¡¯d guess they have several thousand troops holed up in there. Xian¡¯s a massive city with thick walls and a strong defense system,¡± she replied, her brow furrowing.

    alam Coughing ¡°, what kind of defenses are we talking about?¡± Alam pressed, his curiosity piqued.

    ¡°The Empire¡¯s defenses are no joke,¡± she said, rolling her eyes. ¡°Think thick walls, ramparts, towers, and fortresses, all manned by experienced soldiers and commanders. Breaking through will be a real challenge for us.¡±

    ¡°Great. Just what I wanted to hear,¡± Alam muttered. ¡°What about any fancy tech? They got anything that¡¯ll blow us up real good?¡±

    ¡°Oh, absolutely! I¡¯ve heard they¡¯ve got artillery, cannons, mortars, and even rocket launchers. Rumor has it they¡¯ve developed some new explosives too. They¡¯ve used it effectively against the Blood Khaganate and other enemies,¡± she explained, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°So, yes, they¡¯re a formidable opponent.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the info,¡± Alam said, taking a sip of her tea, the warmth contrasting with the bleakness of their situation.

    Later that afternoon, Alam inspected the Wanderer Army''s IFVs and checked on soldier morale in their tent. The atmosphere buzzed with activity: engines revved, weapons were cleaned, and soldiers engaged in training drills. Despite the lively chaos, Alam felt the weight of the impending battle.

    ¡°Hey Fang, any news from our agent Jiang?¡± he asked, glancing up as she entered.

    ¡°Yes, General. Jiang has successfully infiltrated the Empire of Xian,¡± Fang reported. ¡°He¡¯s provided us with valuable intelligence. They¡¯re gearing up for a counterattack, utilizing their advanced weaponry. He also mentioned that the enemy forces are gathering in a specific area of the city.¡±

    ¡°Great. And how¡¯s our dam coming along?¡± Alam pressed.

    ¡°The dam¡¯s almost complete. Just the final touches left before we can activate it. Our engineers are working day and night, fully aware of its importance in the flood plan,¡± Fang replied, her tone brisk.

    ¡°Are they working at night too?¡± Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Of course. They know how crucial this is. They won¡¯t stop until the dam is ready,¡± she assured him.

    Alam grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. ¡°Tonight, I want every bridge on the Wiehe River blown to smithereens. Let¡¯s see some fireworks!¡±

    ¡°Yes, General. The plan to detonate the bridges has been carefully calculated for maximum chaos,¡± Fang confirmed. ¡°This will create a spectacular display and disrupt the Empire¡¯s defenses. Let¡¯s hope it cripples their ability to counterattack.¡±

    ¡°Just the bridges, not the flood yet,¡± Alam clarified, excitement bubbling.

    ¡°Got it. The bridge explosions will cause immediate chaos, but we hold off on the flood for now. It¡¯ll buy us time,¡± Fang agreed.

    ¡°Yes, and it¡¯ll make their general rethink their strategy. We¡¯ll have more time to finish the dam!¡± Alam chuckled, rubbing his hands together.

    ¡°Exactly. The blast will confuse them, giving us an edge. Our engineers are confident they can finish the dam in time for the flood plan,¡± Fang said, her gaze steady.

    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s make this happen,¡± Alam said, determination etched on his face.

    A few hours later, in the dead of night, Alam stood watch, scanning the direction of Xian and Xianyang City. He felt the anticipation crackle in the air as he awaited the explosions.

    Moments later, a series of bright flashes lit up the night sky. Alam¡¯s heart raced as he witnessed the bridges over the Wiehe River erupt in a cacophony of fire and debris. The explosions were so powerful that they echoed for miles, a fiery prelude to chaos.

    He watched with satisfaction as the bridges collapsed, their destruction marking the beginning of the Wanderer Army¡¯s final offensive against the Empire of Xian. ¡°Let¡¯s see how they handle this,¡± he muttered, a grin spreading across his face. The fireworks were just the start; the real show was yet to come.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    On the 10th day of the siege of Xian, the Wanderer Army was poised for its final offensive. With the bridges over the Wiehe River in ruins, the Empire of Xian¡¯s defenses lay in tatters. Alam could feel the excitement bubbling among his troops; they were eager to unleash chaos on their enemy.

    A runner burst into the command tent, breathless. ¡°General! Movement on the south wall! We think they¡¯re preparing to attack!¡± Alam¡¯s hand tightened on his pen. He exchanged a tense glance with Fang. Was this it? Had they seen through the deception? Then another runner arrived, equally breathless. ¡°False alarm, sir! Just a patrol. They¡¯re reinforcing their positions, but no signs of an immediate attack.¡± The tension in the tent eased slightly, but a new unease settled in. They were still out there, waiting, watching.

    alam then sigh ¡°If I were the general of Xian, I¡¯d be sweating bullets right now,¡± Alam chuckled. ¡°What would your priority be if you were in their shoes?¡±

    ¡°I''d focus on reinforcing defenses and rallying my troops for a counterattack,¡± Fang said, her eyes gleaming with strategic savvy. ¡°I¡¯d leverage our numerical and technological advantages to reclaim the initiative.¡±

    ¡°Alright, then how would you attack me?¡± Alam quipped, crossing his arms.

    ¡°I¡¯d unleash a blitzkrieg, overwhelming your rear with numbers,¡± Fang replied, her tone serious. ¡°Aerial and artillery strikes would disrupt your command centers, creating chaos.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a plan. And if you were in charge, what would your reaction be to our dam?¡± Alam probed.

    ¡°I¡¯d be extremely concerned. A flood would wreak havoc on our defenses. Stopping your engineers from releasing the waters would be my top priority,¡± she said, her seriousness evident.

    ¡°Right. So, if I took out one sector, you¡¯d cancel the attack?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°Absolutely. I¡¯d focus on defending the most vulnerable areas and avoid a poorly coordinated counterstrike,¡± she nodded.

    ¡°Good thinking,¡± Alam said, eyeing the map. ¡°For the flood plan, I¡¯ve done my research. Altering the flow south toward Xian will be more devastating than north to Xiangyang. We have two days before the dam is operational. I¡¯ll place decoys in the south to make them think we¡¯re attacking there while our main force strikes north after the flood.¡±

    ¡°Clever gamble, General. The decoys will draw their attention, allowing your main force to hit while their defenses are spread thin,¡± Fang acknowledged. ¡°But it¡¯s risky.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s a risk that pays off. Plus, Jiang¡¯s tunnel network is our ace. He likely has his own militia ready to help secure key points in Xiangyang,¡± Alam said, excitement mounting.

    ¡°Indeed, Jiang¡¯s local resistance could provide a significant advantage for our final offensive,¡± Fang agreed.

    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s gather for a war council and lay out the plan,¡± Alam instructed, adrenaline surging through him.

    In the dim war tent, officers gathered, ready for Alam¡¯s strategy. After he laid out his plan, murmurs of approval filled the air.

    ¡°Damn, that sounds solid,¡± one officer grinned. ¡°They¡¯ll be so focused on the south; they won¡¯t see the real attack coming!¡±

    Light, a seasoned strategist, chimed in on monitor while his still in tibet. ¡°They¡¯ll expect a southern assault after the flood. While they fortify that flank, you hit them hard in the north. If they¡¯re caught off-guard, it¡¯s game over.¡±

    ¡°Double kill!¡± Alam exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. ¡°Let¡¯s pray they don¡¯t counterattack in the next two days. If they do, we¡¯re toast.¡±

    ¡°Relax. They won¡¯t do anything unexpected. They¡¯ll be too busy scrambling after the flood,¡± Light smirked. ¡°If they send a small force north, just give the illusion of being overwhelmed. That¡¯ll keep their reinforcements tied up.¡±

    ¡°Exactly! Let¡¯s hope they¡¯re too distracted to launch a counter-offensive before we strike!¡± Alam said, determination etched on his face.

    The war council wrapped up, and as day ten dawned, Alam felt the tension in the air.

    ¡°Fang, report!¡± he commanded as she entered.

    ¡°General Alam, our agents say the Empire of Xian is still recovering. They¡¯re not at full strength, and there¡¯s no sign of a counter-offensive,¡± she stated. ¡°The dam is ready for activation. All systems are go for our attack and flood operation.¡±

    ¡°Good. Check on everyone. Tomorrow is our gamble,¡± Alam said, the weight of leadership pressing down on him.

    ¡°Understood, General. The Wanderer Army is prepared and eager for the fight. It¡¯s a gamble, but we¡¯re confident in victory,¡± Fang replied, her resolve matching his.

    Alam trudged through the rain-soaked village, his mind still buzzing from the morning¡¯s inspection of the dam and the sneaky decoys set up to throw off the Empire of Xian. As he got closer to the cozy little home of the middle-aged woman he¡¯d met a week ago, he spotted her sitting outside, looking lost in thought. She looked worn out, like life had thrown her a few too many curveballs, but there was a calmness about her that caught his attention.

    ¡°Hey... you seem a bit gloomy today,¡± Alam said, trying to lighten the mood.

    She sighed, her face showing a mix of tiredness and acceptance. Looking up, her eyes held a depth of sorrow that felt like it could cut right through him. ¡°It¡¯s hard not to be gloomy with all that¡¯s happening,¡± she replied softly, her voice steady despite the chaos swirling around them.

    Alam was struck by how composed she was, especially with everything going on outside. ¡°Well, you know... can I at least know your name?¡± He tried to sound casual, but genuine curiosity slipped through.

    After a moment, she nodded, her gaze steady. ¡°My name is Luo Wen. And you, General?¡±

    ¡°Just Alam,¡± he said, flashing a sheepish grin that broke through his serious vibe. ¡°Mind if I grab another cup of that tea?¡± He chuckled lightly, hoping to ease the heavy atmosphere.

    Luo smiled back, her lips lifting just enough to show warmth. ¡°I¡¯ll get that for you,¡± she said, standing up to head inside. As she left, Alam took a moment to really look at her. The lines on her face told stories of hardship, but there was a resilience in her that fascinated him. Even with the threat of violence looming, her spirit seemed unbroken.

    ¡°What¡¯s on your mind? You seem quiet today,¡± Alam asked as she returned with a steaming cup.

    ¡°Sometimes silence speaks louder than words,¡± she replied, her voice low and thoughtful, as if she was pondering something way beyond the chaos of the siege.

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Alam said, taking a sip of the tea. It was warm and soothing, a nice break from the storm brewing outside. ¡°Honestly, I''m kind of bored. It¡¯s been ten days of this waiting game. I¡¯ve even started writing a novel.¡±

    Luo¡¯s eyes lit up with interest, but she stayed quiet, her expression deep in thought. The weight of her gaze felt like an invitation to share more, but Alam wasn¡¯t sure how to put his swirling thoughts into words.

    ¡°It¡¯s just... I didn¡¯t expect the war to drag on like this,¡± he continued, frustration bubbling up. ¡°I thought we¡¯d be done by now. Instead, I¡¯m just sitting here, sipping tea and contemplating life choices.¡±

    Luo nodded slowly, her expression serious. She had heard similar laments before, echoes of other survivors caught in the chaos of war. ¡°You¡¯re not alone in this,¡± she finally said, her voice a mix of empathy and strength. ¡°Many have lost much and are searching for meaning amidst the destruction.¡±

    Alam felt a strange comfort in her words. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll meet again, Luo,¡± he said, standing up to leave, feeling a connection to this woman who seemed to see right through his fa?ade.

    ¡°Maybe we will,¡± she replied, her gaze warm and steady. ¡°Until then, take care, General Alam.¡±

    On the 13rd day of the siege of Xian, General Alam stood on the edge of the desiccated Wiehe River, surveying the barren landscape that had once been a vital waterway. The Wanderer Army was primed for action, every soldier and engineer on high alert, waiting for the signal to unleash devastation. The anticipation crackled in the air, thick enough to slice with a knife.

    ¡°Alright, release the high water!¡± Alam commanded, his voice ringing with authority.

    The engineers sprang into action, opening the dam¡¯s sluices. A massive torrent of water surged forth, transforming the riverbed into a raging flood. The water roared as it swept downstream, ready to obliterate the remnants of the Empire of Xian''s defenses. Alam grinned, watching the chaos unfold.

    ¡°North Army, attack Xiangyang!¡± he ordered, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

    As the north flank charged across the newly flooded terrain, the Empire of Xian¡¯s forces scrambled to respond. Their counterattack was half-hearted, a slapfight against an avalanche. The floodwaters had already wreaked havoc, and the Wanderer Army was gaining the upper hand.

    ¡°Looks like the flood¡¯s having more fun in Xian City than we anticipated,¡± Alam muttered, noting how the southern garrison remained fixated on the decoys, blissfully unaware of the real threat looming in the north.

    ¡°Focus on their anti-air defenses! Our HINDs are itching to join the fray,¡± he added, his excitement palpable.

    The attack was meticulously coordinated, the floodwaters covering one flank while the north army advanced on the other. The Empire of Xian¡¯s anti-aircraft units were drawn southward, leaving their northern defenses wide open. The HIND gunships roared overhead, ready to rain down destruction.

    Hours passed in a blur of chaos and noise. The Wanderer Army¡¯s assault was relentless, the troops pressing forward with unyielding determination. The Empire of Xian was clearly in disarray, their defenses shattering under the pressure of the flood and the onslaught from the north.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get to Xianyang and assess the damage,¡± Alam barked, climbing into an IFV to survey the situation firsthand. ¡°Report! What¡¯s the current status?¡±

    ¡°General, we¡¯ve made substantial progress. Our forces are gaining ground, and the Empire¡¯s defenses are collapsing, their gates is busted from the high water¡± an officer reported, urgency in his tone. ¡°We¡¯ve established air superiority, and the last-ditch attempts to counterattack are being repelled.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now let¡¯s find that emperor and finish this once and for all!¡± Alam declared, his resolve hardening.

    The soldiers huddled in the IFVs, the rumble of the engines a counterpoint to the pounding of their hearts. They checked their weapons for the tenth time, their faces grim. Some were whispering prayers, others were exchanging nervous jokes. The flood had changed everything. The city was now a maze of flooded streets and crumbling buildings,

    The Wanderer Army surged toward Xianyang, determined to locate the emperor''s palace for a final assault that would end the Empire of Xian¡¯s reign. But as Alam pressed forward, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of urgency.

    ¡°Any sign of the emperor? He might have slipped south to Xian,¡± he said, his brow furrowing.

    ¡°Intelligence suggests he¡¯s holed up in the capital, along with his top advisors. He¡¯s ready to make a stand,¡± came the reply.

    ¡°Damn! We¡¯re cut off from the south by those destroyed bridges. Order our engineers to block the river flow again. We¡¯ve captured Xianyang, but we can¡¯t let him escape,¡± Alam commanded, frustration boiling beneath his calm exterior.

    The engineers worked swiftly, reinforcing the dam to prevent any reinforcements from reaching the capital. The Wanderer Army now held Xianyang firmly, but the battle was far from over. The Imperial Palace loomed ahead, and Alam¡¯s troops were ready for the final assault.

    ¡°Keep an eye on the civilians!¡± Alam barked as they swept through the city. ¡°Make sure they stay indoors! Any movement on the streets will be treated as hostile!¡±

    The troops nodded, setting up checkpoints and roadblocks, maintaining a tight grip on the situation.

    ¡°Fang, report now!¡± Alam demanded, feeling the pressure of the impending assault.

    ¡°The attack on Xianyang has gone exceedingly well,¡± Fang reported. ¡°We¡¯ve secured a strong foothold, cutting off all supply routes to the Imperial Army. All potential escape routes have been blocked, and we¡¯re ready to move on the palace.¡±

    ¡°Good. What¡¯s your advice?¡± Alam asked, his mind racing.

    ¡°Strike now, while they¡¯re still scrambling. We need a swift, decisive attack on the Imperial Palace. Close-quarters combat is inevitable, and we can¡¯t give them time to regroup,¡± she urged, her voice steady.

    ¡°Have we pinpointed the emperor¡¯s location?¡± Alam inquired.

    ¡°Our best intel suggests he¡¯s in the Imperial Palace at the center of Xian. But we must remain cautious; he could have fled or hidden elsewhere,¡± Fang warned.

    ¡°Damn! I miscalculated; I should have waited until nightfall. I¡¯m an idiot,¡± Alam muttered, slapping his forehead.

    ¡°Take a breath, General. The pressure¡¯s been intense. We need to make the best decision before committing to a final attack,¡± Fang reassured him.

    ¡°Let¡¯s deploy a spec ops team. Can we still contact Jiang? Is he alive?¡± Alam asked, his determination returning.

    ¡°Absolutely. Jiang has been invaluable, providing us with crucial intel. His knowledge of the city will be essential for our spec ops team,¡± Fang confirmed.

    ¡°Perfect. Our goal is to eliminate the emperor, not to engage the entire army. We¡¯ll send a volunteer team to track him down¡ªJiang can guide them through the chaos,¡± Alam strategized, feeling the adrenaline surge.

    ¡°That¡¯s a solid plan. Jiang knows the layout and can exploit the confusion of night combat to strike effectively,¡± Fang agreed.

    ¡°Alright, but first, how are our casualties looking?¡± Alam pressed.

    ¡°We¡¯ve lost about 20% of our forces, mostly infantry and light armor. The Empire has put up a stiff defense, but we¡¯ve gained the upper hand,¡± Fang reported, her tone serious. ¡°Expect more losses as we launch the final assault, but our resolve is strong.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s make sure we finish this. The Empire of Xian won¡¯t know what hit them,¡± Alam said, his voice steady and fierce. ¡°Let¡¯s make sure this ends tonight,¡± he said, his voice low and grim. ¡°Before we lose any more.¡±As the tension mounted, he felt the weight of leadership on his shoulders, but also the thrill of impending victory.

 Chapter 38 Empire crumble

    The battle for Xian City was a chaotic dance of strategy and explosions. Jiang''s meticulous planning had thankfully gotten most civilians out of the danger zone before the real fireworks started. The True Horde soldiers swarmed over the walls, securing the city block by block. It was a wild scene: Xian Camel Brigade charging alongside futuristic cars, tangling with Wanderer armored vehicles. The whole thing had become a glorious, noisy mess ¨C a proper stalemate.

    With a heavy sigh, General Alam gathered his thoughts. ¡°Alright, our Spec Ops operation is the turning point of this war. No room for mistakes.¡±

    Fang nodded, a serious glint in her eye. ¡°The success of the Spec Ops team will determine everything. They must eliminate the Emperor and his inner circle without collateral damage. This is a high-stakes game, and we can¡¯t afford to lose.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now proceed,¡± Alam ordered, the weight of the moment settling on him. He watched Fang go, the air thick with anticipation. Minutes bled into hours, the setting sun surrendering to a starless night. As midnight fell, the distant echoes of gunfire dwindled.

    The Wanderer Spec Ops team, led by Jiang, moved like ghosts toward the Imperial Palace. With Xian¡¯s AI sensors and generators sabotaged, the city guards were practically blind, making the shadows their perfect allies. Silence was their sharpest weapon.

    ¡°Stay sharp, team,¡± Jiang whispered, adrenaline humming through him. They moved through the inky darkness, the faint moonlight barely illuminating their path to the palace gates.

    The heavy iron doors loomed ahead, a few Imperial Guards standing watch, looking uneasy in the darkness. Jiang signaled the team to form up, weapons drawn. ¡°Remember: quick and quiet.¡±

    They slipped through the gate into the courtyard, weapons raised, eyes constantly scanning. The courtyard was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the distant chaos still echoing through the city. Jiang led them with precision, his instincts razor sharp as they navigated the shadows.

    As they crept toward the palace entrance, the interior was even darker, lit only by flickering torches that cast dancing shadows. The tension was palpable; each creak of the floorboards sounded like a gunshot in the oppressive silence.

    They reached the Emperor''s chambers. Two guards stood watch, their faces grim, weapons at the ready. Jiang signaled. Two team members silently flanked the guards, while Jiang and another prepared to breach the door. Jiang gave the signal, and the door burst open, revealing a lavishly decorated room. The Emperor sat on his throne, surrounded by several advisors. The guards reacted instantly, raising their weapons. The room exploded in gunfire. The Emperor, startled, half-rose from his throne, a look of stunned disbelief on his face as a bullet found its mark. His advisors scrambled for cover, some diving behind furniture, others frozen in terror as the Spec Ops team moved with deadly efficiency. A burst of fire silenced a screaming advisor. Another clutched his throat, blood staining the ornate carpet. In the chaos, Jiang spotted a guard reaching for an alarm bell. With a swift, precise movement, he fired, the guard collapsing before he could sound the alarm.

    The mission was complete. Back at HQ, Alam paced. The silence amplified the distant city sounds. Each minute stretched. He checked the comms, willing it to ring. Waiting was torture for him. Then, a soldier burst in, breathless.

    ¡°General Alam! Mission accomplished! The Emperor is dead!¡±

    ¡°Good! Now pull back and disengage. I don¡¯t want any confrontation with the enemy. By morning, they¡¯ll surrender when they hear their leader is gone,¡± Alam ordered, relief flooding through him.

    ¡°Yes, General! The Spec Ops team will retreat immediately,¡± the soldier confirmed, eager to follow orders.

    ¡°Casualties?¡± Alam pressed, his brow furrowing. ¡°About ten percent, General. But their sacrifice was not in vain. We¡¯ve struck a decisive blow against the Empire of Xian,¡± the soldier replied, pride creeping into his voice.

    Alam nodded grimly. The night was far from over. He turned to Fang. ¡°Order the workers and engineers to join our defense perimeter. It¡¯s all or nothing now.¡±

    ¡°Understood, General. I¡¯ll give the order immediately. We must prepare for a potential counterattack,¡± Fang replied, her determination matching his own.

    Alam turned on his recorder, clearing his throat. ¡°Alright my soul.. My comrade. This is will our finest hours.. I just beg you to stay wake.. Stay focus like this is our last time we will meet again.. Victory is imminent.. Make sure we will see the sunrise together¡±

    His words resonated through the ranks, igniting a fire in the hearts of his soldiers. A roar of defiance erupted from the Wanderer Army, echoing into the night. But beneath the bravado, a tense silence settled.

    The long hours of waiting stretched on, the darkness punctuated only by the crackling of campfires. they all tired and the silentness is make them sleepy despite their boots are filled by mud and water Then, just before dawn, the sounds of marching feet grew louder, signaling the enemy¡¯s approach.

    Alam¡¯s heart raced. ¡°They¡¯re making a last charge! Everyone, get inside the buildings! Our task is to survive. Luckily, we blocked the river again before crossing into Xian. Just wait for the dam to rise again; a second flood is our ace in the hole!¡±

    The Wanderer Army scrambled for cover, taking defensive positions as the enemy advanced. The battle was far from over, but the second flood was already underway,

    As the enemy advanced, the floodwaters began to rise, a watery wall against the Empire¡¯s last gasp.

    ¡°This is divine intervention!¡± Alam exclaimed, watching the enemy ranks falter. The floodwaters churned, trapping men, clogging artillery, and jamming weapons with thick mud. Horses and camels floundered, their footing lost in the rising muck, trapping the enemy and securing the victory for the Wanderers.

    ¡°Looks like the Wei River decided to join the party,¡± one officer chuckled, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Guess they didn''t factor in the tides of war and the actual tides."

    The last pockets of resistance crumbled under the weight of the flood and the Wanderer counter-push. The city was secured. A week later, Alam surveyed the scene. The palace throne was a smoldering ruin¡ªa symbolic bonfire of victory. The citizens, for the most part, were cautiously accepting of their new rulers.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Fang, what¡¯s the status of the remaining enemy forces?¡± he inquired.

    ¡°There are still small pockets of resistance, but they¡¯re scattered and weak. Most have been eliminated or fled. Our control over Xian is solid,¡± she replied, pausing briefly. ¡°Our troops are diligently mopping up any stragglers.¡±

    ¡°Good. We need to maintain our supply lines and hold this city. The conquest of Xian is crucial for cementing our reputation across China,¡± Alam asserted, determination shining in his eyes.

    ¡°Indeed, capturing the capital is a pivotal step in our campaign. It will serve as a stronghold for further advances,¡± Fang agreed.

    ¡°By the way, have we secured the terracotta warriors?¡± Alam asked, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Yes, they¡¯re under our control. The terracotta warriors are a symbol of ancient power. Their capture bolsters our prestige,¡± Fang confirmed.

    ¡°Excellent. Show me the statues,¡± Alam said, eager to witness their legendary presence.

    As Alam approached the site of the terracotta warriors, he was struck by their majesty. The figures stood as silent sentinels, embodying the might of the ancient Empire. He felt a surge of pride wash over him.

    In that moment, Alam understood the significance of their capture: the past and present collided, signaling the rise of a new power in China. Victory was not just close; it was inevitable.

    Alam contacted Zao to assess the local situation in their newly acquired territory. ¡°So, what¡¯s the behavior of our new subjects?¡± he asked.

    Zao replied, ¡°The people of Xian are wary but mostly accepting of us as their new overlords. There haven¡¯t been any overt challenges to our authority, though some pockets of resistance remain. Overall, the populace seems relieved that the fighting is over and are willing to comply, hoping for fair treatment.¡±

    ¡°Good. Keep up the good work,¡± Alam responded, satisfied.

    He then reached out to Fang. ¡°What¡¯s the status of our supply lines? Any threats from local enemies?¡±

    ¡°Our supply lines are secure,¡± Fang reported. ¡°We¡¯ve taken control of vital infrastructure, and the remaining enemy forces are too isolated to pose a significant threat. Everything is running smoothly.¡±

    ¡°Excellent. We need to deal with those pesky remnants of the enemy,¡± Alam said. ¡°I want to form a new unit focused on rooting out insurgents blending into the population.¡±

    ¡°I can start recruitment immediately,¡± Fang replied. ¡°We¡¯ll use infiltration tactics to identify and eliminate any threats.¡±

    ¡°Before we act, let¡¯s offer them one last chance to surrender,¡± Alam suggested.

    ¡°Agreed. The threat of annihilation might convince them to submit,¡± Fang confirmed.

    ¡°Keep me informed on every progress,¡± Alam instructed before heading to the nearby village to visit Luo, the middle-aged tea seller who had welcomed him during his first day in Xian. The village was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos in the city, reflecting the newfound control the Wanderer Army had established.

    Alam strolled through the village center, expecting to find bustling life but instead encountered an eerie silence. Not a soul stirred in the peaceful streets. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and birds chirped, but the absence of human activity left him unsettled.

    ¡°Hmm... Luo?¡± he called, hoping to draw out the middle-aged tea seller he had met before.

    He knocked on her door, hand hovering near the pistol tucked at his back, just in case. Silence enveloped him, but then he heard muffled sounds from within. His heart raced as he waited, senses on high alert.

    Finally, the door creaked open, revealing Luo, her expression a mix of surprise and suspicion. Alam flashed a quick smile. ¡°Oh, hey again! Good to see you.¡±

    Her eyes softened momentarily, but the wariness returned as she cautiously studied him. ¡°What do you want?¡± she asked, guarding her emotions.

    ¡°Can we have some tea again?¡± Alam asked, hoping to ease the tension.

    Luo hesitated but nodded, her demeanor relaxing slightly. ¡°Sure, come in.¡±

    As they settled, Alam asked, ¡°So, have you heard the latest news?¡±

    She blinked and nodded, a faint smile creeping onto her lips. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve been keeping up with things. The Wanderer Army is in control now.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re quieter than before. Do you... fear me?¡± he probed, sensing her caution.

    Luo shook her head, yet her smile was faint. ¡°Not fear. Just... cautious.¡±

    ¡°Do you have children?¡± Alam inquired, trying to bridge the gap.

    Her gaze softened, but shadows crossed her face. ¡°I had a son... he died in the fighting.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. What about your husband?¡± Alam pressed gently.

    ¡°Gone,¡± she whispered, grief heavy in her tone.

    ¡°Now you live alone?¡± Alam asked, feeling the weight of her loss.

    ¡°Yes... alone,¡± she confirmed, her voice barely above a whisper.

    He took a sip of tea, the warmth contrasting with the chill of their conversation. ¡°The village feels quieter lately. Are people working in Xiangyang and Xian after the battle?¡±

    ¡°Reconstruction has begun,¡± she replied, her tone melancholic. ¡°They¡¯re working hard to restore what was lost.¡±

    Alam smirked, ¡°Yeah, the man who caused this must be... naughty.¡±

    Luo let out a small laugh, her eyes lighting up with mischief. The tension between them cracked, and they enjoyed a brief moment of levity before she looked pensive.

    ¡°Do you plan to spend the rest of your life here?¡± he asked, curious.

    She pondered, sipping her tea. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve learned to take life one day at a time. My son and husband... life is unpredictable.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is,¡± Alam agreed, reflecting on the chaos surrounding them.

    Luo sighed, her expression clouding with sorrow as memories of her son and husband washed over her. She blinked rapidly, fighting back the grief that threatened to resurface.

    ¡°Can I ask you a heavy question?¡± Alam ventured, his voice cautious.

    Luo nodded, her demeanor shifting to one of solemnity.she know alam is bit bold, She set her cup down, a small smile flickering across her face, encouraging him to proceed.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± he pressed, gauging her readiness.

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± she said, leaning back in her chair with a hint of apprehension.

    ¡°Alright... which was sadder? The loss of your husband or your son?¡± Alam asked, the gravity of his question hanging in the air.

    Luo¡¯s expression darkened, and a grimace crossed her face as the question struck deep. Tears threatened to spill, but she fought them back. ¡°I can¡¯t really compare... both were devastating. But if I had to choose, I¡¯d say losing my son was the worst. He was my only child. Watching him die in battle, helpless to save him... that¡¯s a gut-wrenching feeling I¡¯ll never forget.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Alam replied, his heart heavy with empathy. He rubbed her hand, seeking to offer comfort.

    Luo closed her eyes, breathing deeply at the touch. The silence stretched between them, a moment of shared sorrow. Finally, she opened her eyes to meet his gaze.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll ever have children,¡± Alam admitted, ¡°but I treat my soldiers like family. Losing good men¡ªit''s a pain I know all too well.¡±

    Luo nodded softly, her eyes warming. She understood his attachment, sensing the grief he carried. In that quiet connection, a shared understanding passed between them, a moment of respite from the harsh realities of war. Alam sighed, the moment fading as the weight of his responsibilities returned. He looked out at the ruined city, his mind already turning to the tasks ahead.

    Later, back at the Wanderer¡¯s new base in Xian, the True Horde Confederation flag rose over the city, a symbol of their victory.

    The next day, the war council convened. Alam didn''t waste time on pleasantries. ¡°Thanks for being on time, everyone.¡± He gestured to a large screen displaying a graph. ¡°We planned a slow takeover of China, but after the Xian campaign¡­¡± He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. ¡°Let¡¯s just say we¡¯re a little ahead of schedule.¡± The graph showed a dramatic spike in the True Horde''s treasury after the capture of Xian. It had previously flatlined. Now it was reaching the top of the scale

    Another screen displayed a list of weapons, tools, and other future expenditure for the True Horde.

    Murmurs of approval swept through the room as Alam continued, ¡°We need to isolate the remaining factions, cut off their supply lines, and watch them squirm. Blockade, blockade, blockade!¡±

    He paused for dramatic effect. ¡°We¡¯ve got a foothold at a main city port and allies in Hong Kong, but it¡¯s not enough to form a proper blockade. From our new base in Xian, I¡¯ll send generals Zhang and Jax to deal with Liaoning. Once we have that secured, Shanxi and Hebei will be cut off. It¡¯s like a game of chess, only with way more swords and less thinking.¡±

    ¡°Brilliant plan, Chief!¡± one general chimed in, nodding vigorously.

    ¡°If we pull this off, Beijing will be next!¡± Alam declared, his eyes gleaming with ambition. ¡°Any questions?¡±

    Silence reigned as the generals exchanged glances, nodding their heads in agreement. The plan was solid, and they were all in.

    ¡°Alright then,¡± Alam said, his tone shifting to one of mischief, ¡°if there are no further questions, let¡¯s have a feast! I mean, what¡¯s a successful campaign without a little celebration?¡±

    Laughter erupted around the table, and the atmosphere turned jovial. A massive feast was prepared, and the generals dug in, sharing stories of past glories and future conquests.

 Chapter 39 River way Eastern Warlord

    Alam now resided in the palace of Xian, and he learned that the previous emperor had a staggering 100 concubines. After conquering the place, it was something he could rightfully claim, but honestly, Alam felt he didn¡¯t have the energy for 100 women. So, he decided to skip the local tradition.

    Meanwhile, he started changing up his usual look. His old leather jacket was replaced by a flowing robe of yellow silk, embroidered with intricate gold dragons. He wasn¡¯t going to lie¡ªjust a 2 year ago, he and his people were on the brink of starvation during the winter war. Now, he had conquered one of the richest cities in the region, and his ego was definitely floating a bit.

    Alam flicked on the intercom, summoning his Tibetan strategist, Light. ¡°Hey, let¡¯s talk about the aftermath of our brilliant victory.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes! A stunning triumph indeed!¡± Light replied, his tone dripping with enthusiasm. ¡°This will set a precedent for your benevolent rule. If you keep up the image of a liberator, the nearby nations will be lining up to submit. Just remember to treat them fairly. Prove you¡¯re a merciful ruler, and they¡¯ll flock to you!¡±

    ¡°Shhh,¡± Alam interjected, waving his hand dismissively. ¡°I know the war isn¡¯t over. We originally planned a slow, methodical takeover, but thanks to my lightning campaign, we¡¯re holding central China faster than a kid with candy. The new plan? Focus on conquering the seashore. We need to isolate those pesky factions.¡±

    ¡°Brilliant!¡± Light exclaimed. ¡°Seashores mean supply lines and naval attacks. If we cut off their outside support, they¡¯ll be like fish out of water¡ªliterally!¡±

    ¡°Got any more spicy plans up your sleeve?¡± Alam smirked.

    ¡°Destroy the factions? Well¡­¡± Light grinned, clearly relishing the conversation. ¡°If you want to crush their spirit, you need to do it quickly and decisively. Shock and awe, my friend! The fear alone could make them surrender.¡±

    ¡°Wait, what do you mean by ¡®terror¡¯?¡± Alam raised an eyebrow. ¡°You know most of them are stubborn, right? I¡¯d probably have to off a lot of soldiers first before¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, dear,¡± Light interrupted, smirking. ¡°Terror is a strategy, my friend. It¡¯s about creating fear. Even the bravest soldiers will lose their nerve when they see their comrades fall in horrific ways. You want the enemy to doubt your mercy.¡±

    ¡°Sounds a bit¡­ extreme,¡± Alam said, scratching his head.

    ¡°Welcome to war! Every conflict has its share of ¡®war crimes,¡¯ if you want to call it that,¡± Light chuckled. ¡°Want to hear the tactic?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, lay it on me,¡± Alam said, intrigued.

    ¡°First, target someone beloved by the troops,¡± Light explained, his grin widening. ¡°Not necessarily a leader, but someone who¡¯s close to them. Create a situation that makes those soldiers fear for their loved ones¡¯ safety. It¡¯s pretty self-explanatory.¡±

    ¡°Oh, we¡¯ve done some spec ops and targeted assassinations at the Siege of Xian. Propaganda and sabotage are our bread and butter,¡± Alam admitted.

    ¡°Good to hear! But there¡¯s one more method¡ªthough it¡¯s a bit more extreme,¡± Light said, leaning in closer.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m listening,¡± Alam replied, intrigued.

    ¡°It¡¯s about fear,¡± Light said, his tone shifting. ¡°In a campaign like this, there are three levels of fear. The first is the fear of losing a battle. The second? Losing comrades in a conventional way.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Alam nodded, already sensing where this was going.

    ¡°Then comes the third level¡ªfear of losing everything,¡± Light said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

    ¡°What do you mean by losing everything?¡± Alam asked, his curiosity piqued.

    ¡°When the enemy won¡¯t surrender or negotiate, you need to apply that third level of fear. Make them believe that if they can¡¯t beat you, they¡¯ll lose everything¡ªtheir nation, their lives, everything!¡± Light smirked. ¡°You have to shatter their spirit.¡±

    ¡°Like, classic threats? ¡®Surrender or I¡¯ll kill your family and your pet?¡¯¡± Alam pause considering. ¡°Though, honestly, threatening the hamster is probably more effective these days. Everyone loves hamsters.¡±

    Light leaned back, a sly grin on his face. ¡°That¡¯s a type of fear, but it¡¯s pretty ordinary compared to what I¡¯m talking about. Sure, it¡¯s part of the third level, but it can¡¯t be used in open combat.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow. ¡°Okay, then what¡¯s your genius plan?¡±

    Light chuckled mischievously. ¡°You want to know? Alright, here it goes. War is all about breaking the enemy¡¯s morale, right? So how about we aim right at their leader? Make him sweat, show him we won¡¯t hesitate to take him out along with his buddies.¡±

    ¡°That sounds risky,¡± Alam said. ¡°What if he¡¯s charismatic? That might just fuel their resistance.¡±

    ¡°Exactly! The more he resists, the more we need to show him what happens when you say no,¡± Light shot back, grinning devilishly. ¡°It¡¯s just another way to instill fear.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I get it. But do you have any other ideas?¡± Alam pressed.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Light¡¯s eyes sparkled with mischief. ¡°We need to spread rumors that our army is ruthless¡ªsurrendering won¡¯t save anyone. The best way to do that? Show the consequences directly.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t that just make them fight harder?¡± Alam questioned.

    ¡°Nope!¡± Light grinned cruelly. ¡°It¡¯ll have the opposite effect. They¡¯ll lose their spirit before the first shot is fired. Fear will seep into their bones, and some might even run away, despite being capable soldiers. After that, they won¡¯t dare resist.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. I¡¯ve never thought of it that way,¡± Alam admitted.

    Light smirked proudly. ¡°I¡¯m always one step ahead. While others underestimate me, I know my strengths¡ªboth in combat and psychological warfare. I can crush their bodies and their spirits.¡±

    ¡°Sure, but if I want to unite my territory into a confederation, will fear really keep them in line?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s the catch,¡± Light replied. ¡°If you want genuine trust, fear alone won¡¯t cut it. It¡¯s useful for keeping some individuals in check, but if you overdo it, it¡¯ll backfire. Use it selectively.¡±

    ¡°Or I could create a new branch of the army¡ªlet¡¯s call them the ¡®Black Goats,¡¯¡± Alam said with a smirk. ¡°They can do my dirty work, and then I¡¯ll integrate them into the confederation.¡±

    ¡°Now we¡¯re talking!¡± Light exclaimed. ¡°Use ruthless tactics to break resistance, then gradually integrate them. That way, you won¡¯t come off as a tyrant. They¡¯ll see you as a great leader promoting peace.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯ll still need to keep them in line,¡± Alam said.

    ¡°Exactly. That¡¯s where your ¡®Black Goats¡¯ come in,¡± Light chuckled. ¡°Just be careful¡ªthey might develop their own identity and cause trouble if you don¡¯t manage them right.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a potential headache,¡± Alam said, rubbing his temples.

    ¡°Oh, trust me, I¡¯ve been there,¡± Light said with a smirk. ¡°But I won¡¯t spill the details. You¡¯ll figure it out. If it turns into a mess, well, you¡¯ll know what to do.¡±

    ¡°Great, thanks for the vote of confidence,¡± Alam shot back, rolling his eyes. ¡°So, what¡¯s your master plan for dealing with it?¡±

    Light leaned in, an enigmatic smile on his lips. ¡°Well, it¡¯s an art form¡ªmanipulation, really. You should have it all figured out before you bring the ¡®Black Goats¡¯ into the fold.¡±

    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Alam said, ¡°once their job is done, I¡¯ll just disown them?¡±

    Light grinned wickedly. ¡°That¡¯s one way! Or you could use them to absorb more factions. Their notorious reputation could instill fear in your enemies or even force them to ally with you just to deal with the ¡®Black Goats.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Alam mused. ¡°I¡¯ll consider it for the greater good.¡±

    Light leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. ¡°Good. But remember, don¡¯t underestimate the situation. We¡¯re talking about using a ruthless organization as a tool here. You might control them at first, but their own will can creep up later. There¡¯s no guarantee they¡¯ll always bow to your authority.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± Alam replied, rolling his eyes. ¡°Thanks for the pep talk. Now, let¡¯s get down to business.¡± A few hours after their feast, Alam gathered everyone for the next phase of their campaign.

    ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the plan. From Xi''an, we¡¯re heading south to capture Luoyang, Zhengzhou, Jinan, Qingdao, and finally Weihai,¡± he announced, his voice steady and commanding.

    ¡°Solid plan,¡± Zao chimed in. ¡°We¡¯ll crush any local resistance and secure our hold on the south.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of resistance,¡± Alam said, ¡°do we have intel on what we¡¯re up against?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Fang replied. ¡°Our scouts have mapped out the local factions and potential obstacles. Expect a mix of minor alliances and some stubborn locals. We need to ensure a steady supply line from Xi''an to Weihai.¡±

    ¡°Right. And how long did it take Genghis Khan to conquer the Jin Empire?¡± Alam asked, curious about historical precedents.

    ¡°About 18 years,¡± Fang answered. ¡°Persistence and strategy were key for him.¡±

    ¡°And the Japanese in Manchuria during WWII?¡± Alam pressed.

    ¡°Six years of relentless campaigns before they really dug in,¡± Fang said. ¡°They were strategic, and that¡¯s what made them successful.¡±

    ¡°Good lessons there. Persistence and strategy. Got it.¡± Alam turned to Zao and Yang. ¡°You two have been instrumental in the Xian campaign. Can you lead the army to Weihai?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Zao replied. ¡°We¡¯ll tackle whatever comes our way¡ªhills, forests, enemies, you name it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be tough, but we¡¯re ready,¡± Yang added, determination in his voice.

    ¡°Great. Fang, you''ll oversee their progress and keep me posted,¡± Alam commanded.

    ¡°On it. I¡¯ll ensure everything runs smoothly,¡± Fang said, nodding.

    ¡°Any questions?¡± Alam scanned the room, but his generals were all focused, ready to execute the plan.

    ¡°Good luck, everyone,¡± he said, saluting. The officers returned the gesture, their faces filled with determination. With solid intel backing them and a clear plan in place, they were ready to conquer the southern region of China, one city at a time.

    Later that afternoon, Alam made his way back to the quaint village. but this time he decide to wear his old leather jacket, a peaceful landscape was a comforting contrast to the boring chaos of his military life. A cluster of modest houses surrounded a central plaza, framed by rolling hills and lush forests. As he approached, the familiar sight of Luo''s small home brought a smile to his face.

    Luo stood at her door, her face lighting up when she saw him. ¡°Alam! You¡¯re back!¡± she exclaimed, a warm welcome in her voice.

    ¡°Hey, I know I¡¯m a bit needy, but can you cook me dinner?¡± he asked, half-joking, half-serious.

    ¡°Of course! It¡¯ll be simple, but delicious,¡± she replied, her eyes sparkling with eagerness. She led him into her cozy kitchen, filled with the aromas of spices and fresh ingredients.

    As she began to prepare the meal, Alam watched her movements with appreciation. ¡°What are you making?¡± he asked, his stomach rumbling in anticipation.

    ¡°Pot stickers,¡± she said, glancing back at him with a smile. ¡°They¡¯re a family recipe¡ªseasoned meat and vegetables wrapped in a thin dough.¡±

    ¡°Sounds amazing. What makes them different from bakpao?¡± Alam asked, taking a seat at her small table.

    Luo smiled, her enthusiasm infectious. ¡°Well, bakpao are fluffier and sweeter. These are savory, with a crispy bottom from the frying pan. You¡¯ll love them!¡±

    Alam took a bite, savoring the flavors. ¡°Wow, this is really good!¡±

    ¡°Glad you like it!¡± she beamed, her face lighting up with pride as she watched him enjoy her cooking. The kitchen filled with the sound of sizzling, and the aroma wrapped around them like a warm blanket.

    ¡°I need to tell you something,¡± Alam said, his tone turning serious. ¡°My time in Xian is almost over. I¡¯m heading east soon.¡±

    Luo¡¯s smile faded slightly, replaced with a look of understanding. ¡°I know you have your duties,¡± she said softly. ¡°I¡¯ll miss you.¡±

    ¡°Funny coincidence, though,¡± Alam continued, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°I dammed a river named Weihai, and now my next target is the port city of Weihai.¡±

    Luo giggled, shaking her head at the irony. ¡°Life has a strange sense of humor, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Speaking of humor,¡± Alam said, ¡°do you still have that huge stock of tea?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes! I kept plenty for when you came back,¡± she replied, her face lighting up again. ¡°I knew you¡¯d want some!¡±

    ¡°Great! But I can¡¯t make promises, you know. I might just buy half of it,¡± he said, trying to sound casual.

    Luo''s smile softened. ¡°That¡¯s fine. It shows you care about us, even while you¡¯re off conquering.¡±

    Alam gazed out the window, watching the sun dip behind the hills. ¡°Sometimes I wish for a place like this when I grow old. Just quiet and peaceful.¡±

    Luo nodded, understanding the weight of his words. She could see the toll the wars had taken on him. ¡°This village has its charm. It¡¯s nice to escape the chaos, even if just for a moment.¡±

    Alam stretched, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. ¡°I hope you live long and healthy, Luo. I really should be going now.¡±

    ¡°Take care, Alam,¡± she said, her voice tinged with sadness.

    ¡°Goodbye, Luo.¡± He stepped outside, and as he walked away, he glanced back one last time. Her smile was bright, but her eyes shimmered with a mix of hope and melancholy.

    As Alam disappeared down the path, Luo stood in her doorway, feeling a bittersweet pang in her heart. She cherished the moments they shared, even as the reality of his departure sank in. The village remained tranquil, but the weight of Alam¡¯s absence loomed large in the quiet air, leaving her to ponder the future.

    Alam returned to the command center, the quiet village now a distant memory. The maps spread across the table called to him, the next phase of the campaign already taking shape in his mind. He decided to join the vanguard once more.

    The Wanderer''s vanguard force moves forward confidently across the rugged and scenic terrain, marching northward towards the Tainyuang city. Alam leads the way, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings for any potential threats or dangerous situations. The team traverses through the scenic valleys and mountains, encountering the spectacular landscape of the Qinling Mountains. As the team ventures further north and approaches the Taiyuan basin, the landscape becomes flatter and the city of Taiyuan comes into sight, it''s sprawling urban skyline rising above the surrounding plains...

    then  one by one. from street to street, from village to village, from city to city. from warlord to warlord, alam conquer the old capital of beijing. the city was its former glory though. the industry, their tech is busted, and less populated compared with xian, the city will only become a merely symbolic victory, nevertheles. alam then rank up more new general. such yang for conquest of korea, everything is good.

    As the generals feasted, a messenger arrived, his face grim. He handed Alam a sealed report. Alam broke the seal and read the contents, his brow furrowing. ¡°It seems our victory here has not gone unnoticed,¡± he said, his voice low. ¡°The Blood khaganate and red nation is on the move. They¡¯re expanding their influence, and reports suggest they¡¯ve developed a new type of heavy tank.¡±

 Chapter 40 Buffalo

    The victory at Xian and Beijing echoed across the land, but Alam knew it was only one battle in a much larger war. As his forces consolidated their hold on the city, reports continued to trickle in about the Red Nation''s growing power. Their expansion into Asia, the whispers of a new super weapon¡ªit was clear they were a force to be reckoned with. This wasn''t just a regional conflict anymore; the tremors of a larger global struggle were beginning to be felt.

    the world was still super unstable, like one wrong move and boom.

    One day, on a supply run, Alam went back to Carpathia to see Carmelita the black veil woman. He then showed up holding food. ¡°Hey, you gotta try this Xian food. It¡¯s nyumy!¡±

    Carmelita looked up, a little surprised. She glanced at the food. ¡°Xian food? Never had it.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam said, plopping down in front of her. ¡°Eat it. Hehe.¡±

    She lift up her mask took a small bite, her eyes widening. ¡°Hmm, this is¡­ actually nyumy. You weren¡¯t kidding.¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± Alam grinned. ¡°Cute, right?¡±

    Carmelita rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. ¡°Cute? That¡¯s the best you could do?¡±

    Alam shifted his chair and leaned on her shoulder.

    She stiffened a bit, surprised and a little annoyed, but didn¡¯t push him away. ¡°You¡¯re getting way too comfortable.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t mind, do you?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t mind,¡± she mumbled, sounding a little irritated, but she didn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam said.

    She huffed again, trying to hide that she was secretly enjoying it. After a pause, Alam asked, ¡°Tell me¡­ do you think what we¡¯re doing is actually stopping the war? Or are we just making things worse?¡±

    Carmelita¡¯s expression turned serious. She looked off in the distance, thinking. ¡°I wish I knew. Preventing war is complicated. Sometimes we help. Other times¡­ it feels like we¡¯re just adding fuel to the fire.¡±

    ¡°Humans,¡± Alam sighed.

    Carmelita nodded. ¡°Yeah, humans. Always fighting. It¡¯s like we never learn. We never figure out how to just live in peace.¡±

    ¡°Yep,  take that human!,¡± Alam agreed, then suddenly poked her nose.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Carmelita snapped, narrowing her eyes. ¡°What was that for? I¡¯m not some toy!¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Alam said. ¡°You seem stressed.¡±

    ¡°Of course I¡¯m stressed,¡± she said. ¡°Have you looked at the world lately? It¡¯s a mess. Wars and chaos everywhere.¡±

    ¡°So,¡± Alam said, ¡°even someone as elite as you gets stressed?¡±

    Carmelita scoffed. ¡°Of course I do. I¡¯m not a robot. I¡¯m good at what I do, but I¡¯m still human.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right.¡± Alam sat up and opened another box of food, showing her dumplings and a kind of meat sandwich. ¡°It¡¯s called Roujiamo.¡±

    Carmelita looked at the food, curious. ¡°Roujiamo? Never seen that before. Looks¡­ interesting.¡±

    ¡°Yep,¡± Alam said. ¡°Don¡¯t women like to eat when they¡¯re in a bad mood?¡±

    Carmelita huffed, a mix of annoyance and amusement in her eyes. ¡°You can¡¯t just stereotype all women. But yeah, some do.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam said. ¡°Eat up. Get fat.¡±

    Carmelita rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not going to ¡®get fat¡¯ from one meal. I have self-control. And watch your tone, or I¡¯ll feed this to the dogs.¡±

    ¡°No, please,¡± Alam pleaded. ¡°I came all the way from China to bring this to you, not some random dogs.¡±

    Carmelita huffed, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. ¡°Fine. I won¡¯t feed it to the dogs. Only because you brought it for me.¡± Alam leaned back in his chair, watching her.

    She picked up a Roujiamo and took a bite, her expression softening. ¡°Mmm¡­ This is delicious. I can see why you were boasting.¡±

    ¡°Halal boasting,¡± Alam corrected with a grin.

    Carmelita nodded, taking another bite. ¡°For once, I¡¯ll allow it. This is good enough to be arrogant about.¡±

    ¡°So, usually I¡¯m not allowed to boast?¡± Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

    She huffed a small laugh. ¡°Generally speaking, no. But this is an exception. Don¡¯t get used to it.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the difference between being confident and just showing off?¡± Alam wondered.

    Carmelita considered this, her brow furrowing slightly. ¡°Confidence is believing in your abilities. Showing off, or bragging, is trying to make yourself look better than others. It¡¯s about intent. Confidence comes from within, bragging is for external validation.¡±

    ¡°Intent¡­ how do I read other people¡¯s intentions?¡±

    She smirked. ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound like a spy. But¡­ look for clues. Body language, tone, eye contact, their word choices.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind. I meet a lot of weirdos on my adventures.¡±

    Carmelita nodded. ¡°Just remember to stay vigilant.¡± She studied him for a moment. ¡°You know, for someone who¡¯s traveled the world, you¡¯re surprisingly¡­ naive.¡±

    Alam grinned. ¡°Heheh. Then I¡¯m successfully¡­ um¡­ hiding my facade?¡±

    She rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. ¡°Yes, yes. You¡¯re very good at masking your true nature. But I¡¯ve noticed a few things.¡±

    ¡°Oho? Like what?¡±

    Carmelita¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°Well, for starters, you¡¯re far more observant than you let on. You act carefree, but there¡¯s more going on beneath the surface. You¡¯re not as transparent as you want people to believe.¡±

    ¡°Nyoohhh¡­ I¡¯m an innocent boy,¡± Alam said, feigning innocence.

    She rolled her eyes again. ¡°Oh, please. No one who¡¯s seen as much as you has can claim to be innocent.¡±

    Alam met her gaze¡± yes. im innocent if facing about future.. no matter how many prediction i make about what come next.. gott always surprise me¡±

    Carmelita nodded, a hint of respect in her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s a good mindset to have. The world is full of surprises. Just when you think you have it figured out¡­¡±

    Carmelita¡¯s words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the vastness of the task ahead. While Alam shared a brief respite with Carmelita, the war machine continued to grind on. Thousands of miles to the east,

    To dodge the Blue Nation pirates, Zion decided to relocate the entire factory from the Bering Strait to Asia. With that move, the Red Nation officially expanded its territory overseas. Meanwhile, the New World Council (NWC) was too busy squabbling among themselves. It was clear the Red Nation was bending the rules, but they shot back with their classic line: ¡°The Blood Khaganate has the right to defend themselves, and we¡¯re just maintaining peace.¡± Classic political mumbo jumbo for the media ¨C the kind that made even seasoned diplomats roll their eyes

    The portrayal of the NWC suggests a level of incompetence reminiscent of its predecessor, the United Nations. The White Nation, with its advanced technology, appears to be the only stabilizing force keeping the major nations together. However, despite the absence of direct clashes among these nations, the question remains: how long can this fragile peace last?

    The Blood Khaganate resorted to mass recruitment. Among these new recruits were Hazel, who later will rise to become a skilled tank commander, and Panji, who carved a path as a swift infantry leader. The Red Nation brought in a new super weapon called the Buffalo tank¡ªa 150-ton beast with twin cannons. It was slow but deadly, aiming to march to Europe and crush anything in its path, including the True Horde.

    Hazel was born female, but in her society, men were favored. To fit in and be treated equally, she acted like a man. Even before World War III, the region faced gender inequality. Young girls were often seen as burdens, destined to be sold off, while boys were groomed to inherit family fortunes. In this post-apocalyptic world, such practices still ran rampant, especially with the introduction of "wind-up girls." This explained why more egalitarian societies like the Blood Khaganate or True Horde were more powerful compared to local warlords. Many people view these groups as a ticket to a more liberated society, especially in contrast to the oppressive norms they have experienced.

    and To blend in, Hazel wore a special bodysuit to hide her curves and bribed her way through the corrupt Khaganate border. As a man, she joined the war against the True Horde. and she even not change her name. ¡°Hazel it is¡± the border guard give her the id after receive amount of money behind her document

    In June 2404, the air in Manchuria was thick with anticipation, the scent of gasoline mingling with the vibrant greens of the landscape. Lush vegetation and blooming flowers danced in the gentle breeze, starkly contrasting the dark, blackened earth of the Blood Khaganate workshop, which looked like a charcoal stain on an artist''s canvas.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    The garage buzzed with the clattering of machinery, but the real spectacle was a new arrival from the Red Nation¡ªa monstrous war machine of a tank. Its twin cannons jutted skyward like petrified tree trunks. A plume of smoke curled lazily from its hatch, momentarily obscuring the figure that clambered out.

    As the smoke cleared, a shock of fiery orange hair burst forth, topped with a pair of goggles that seemed to wink mischievously in the fading sunlight.

    ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re the new shield meat?¡± Yu giggled, her laughter brightening the grim atmosphere as she leaned against the tank.

    From behind the colossal machine, a figure emerged, looking like he had stepped straight out of a steampunk fantasy. A jaunty top hat adorned with brass gears perched atop his head, casting playful shadows across his face. He adjusted the scabbard strapped to his hip with a flourish, revealing a confident grin.

    ¡°Patrick, at your service! Welcome to the team!¡± he declared, tipping his hat with a flamboyant gesture.

    ¡°Hello, Patrick. Hmm¡­ do we know each other?¡± Hazel asked, brow furrowing in curiosity.

    ¡°Nope! You¡¯re a new member. I¡¯m the captain of this beauty, the tank ¡®Buffalo¡¯. Our task is simple: destroy the True Horde and march to Europe!¡± Patrick announced, his enthusiasm palpable.

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Hazel replied, still processing the information. ¡°Just keep in mind, ¡®Buffalo¡¯ is a heavy tank. Don¡¯t expect it to win any races! But I assure you, with this tank, we can crush everything in our path¡ªstrong defenses, fierce offensives, you name it. This tank is our ticket to victory!¡± Patrick¡¯s eyes sparkled with excitement.

    The tank¡¯s engine rumbled to life, echoing through the garage like a beast awakening from slumber. As it began to move, the heavy treads clanked against the concrete, sending vibrations through the ground.

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Hazel mused, starting to follow the tank as it lumbered out onto the street.

    ¡°How long until we reach Europe?¡± Hazel asked, glancing at Patrick, who walked beside him.

    ¡°I¡¯m not certain. Maybe a month or two,¡± he said, looking ahead. ¡°We¡¯ll move eastward as fast as we can to crush the True Horde before they reach the West. Once we finish the job, we can march to Europe with all our might.¡±

    ¡°Two months? Are you sure? At this rate, maybe a year!¡± Hazel joked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°I assure you, our tank is the most advanced! It can plow through mud, snow, and even mountains. It won¡¯t slow us down. The True Horde is a major threat in this region, so we need to reach the front lines as quickly as possible. Even the worst terrain can¡¯t slow down ¡®Buffalo¡¯,¡± Patrick replied confidently.

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Hazel nodded.

    ¡°If we can defeat the True Horde in Central Asia, they¡¯ll retreat. But if we can¡¯t, they¡¯ll storm through Europe and beyond. They aim to unite the world under their control and show no mercy to anyone except their own people. That¡¯s why we must stop them now,¡± Patrick warned, his expression grave.

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ so we¡¯re actually¡­¡± Hazel began.

    ¡°Yes! We¡¯re fighting for the peace and freedom of everyone. If the True Horde unites the world, they¡¯ll become dictators and enslave everyone. We must stop them before it¡¯s too late,¡± Patrick replied, his passion igniting a fire in Hazel.

    ¡°Yes, and our job is to defend it,¡± Hazel affirmed.

    Patrick patted the Buffalo¡¯s thick armor. ¡°She can take a beating, but we¡¯re her eyes and ears. Infantry swarms are the biggest threat.¡± He gestured to the surrounding landscape. ¡°Out here, we¡¯re exposed.¡± Hazel nodded, understanding the vulnerability of their position.

    ¡°Just remember, we¡¯re stronger than we look. Don¡¯t fear! With our tactics, our weapons, and the power of teamwork, we can destroy the True Horde army and march to Europe!¡± Patrick urged, his voice rising with enthusiasm.

    ¡°I¡¯m not afraid,¡± Hazel replied firmly.

    ¡°Good! Because this war is about freedom and peace. It¡¯s not a war for destruction like the True Horde wants. We are the force for good, and we will crush evil! Keep that in mind and fight without fear!¡± Patrick declared, his voice ringing with conviction.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Hazel replied,

    ¡°And if you have any questions, just ask! Don¡¯t be shy about it; I¡¯ll answer anything!¡± Patrick encouraged, his demeanor friendly.

    ¡°Nothing¡­ I just don¡¯t talk much,¡± Hazel confessed.

    ¡°That¡¯s okay! Let¡¯s head to the front line! The True Horde army is waiting!¡± Patrick said, a grin breaking across his face.

    ¡°Yes!¡± Hazel agreed,

    As the tank slowly moved forward, people stopped in the street to gawk at the colossal war machine. It was indeed a monstrous sight¡ªheavy armor and twin cannons aimed skyward, rumbling through the streets like a leviathan.

    ¡°With this size, it¡¯s perfect for air strikes,¡± Hazel mused,

    ¡°This tank is the strongest and most advanced. Even an air strike can¡¯t damage it because the thick armor is made of iron¡ªit can withstand jet attacks and missiles. The True Horde air force won¡¯t dare make a direct attack on ¡®Buffalo.¡¯ They might try to hit us with rocket launchers, but that¡¯s risky as they¡¯d need to get dangerously close,¡± Patrick explained, his tone filled with pride.

    ¡°What? How can a tank attack planes?¡± Hazel asked, incredulous.

    ¡°Simple! The tank has twin cannons that can tilt upwards about 75 degrees, allowing it to shoot down enemy planes flying above. With the speed of the cannon, we can take out aircraft before they can launch an attack!¡± Patrick responded, enthusiasm bubbling over. ¡°And the most advanced cannons can hit targets at a distance of about 10 kilometers!¡±

    ¡°I see¡­ do you have a reason for joining the army?¡± Hazel inquired, genuinely curious.

    ¡°We¡¯re a group of people¡ªmost of us are veterans from Khaganate, mercenaries, or other types of veterans. We have no desire for money or glory; instead, we want a world without bloodshed. We fight for peace and freedom¡ªthat¡¯s why we joined this army,¡± Patrick explained, sincerity etched in his features.

    ¡°I see¡­ sounds clich¨¦,¡± Hazel said, a hint of skepticism in her tone.

    ¡°It¡¯s the truth. We fight for our country, for peace and freedom, for the next generation¡ªthe generation that will live without bloodshed. That¡¯s who we fight for,¡± Patrick replied, his voice steady.

    ¡°Do you think the other side feels the same?¡± Hazel asked, her brow furrowing.

    ¡°The True Horde? They only want to rule the world. They want every nation to serve them and everyone to obey like slaves. Do you think they desire a world without bloodshed?¡± Patrick countered, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Hmm. Everyone is the villain in someone else¡¯s story,¡± Hazel mused.

    As they walked alongside the tank, the massive machine began its slow lumbering journey toward the front lines. Patrick stayed close to Hazel, his concern for her well-being clear.

    ¡°Are we in hostile territory yet?¡± Hazel asked, her heart racing with anticipation.

    ¡°Close, but not quite there. The True Horde is still in their own territory,¡± Patrick replied, scanning the horizon.

    ¡°Great. How long until we can rest?¡± Hazel asked, noticing the sky darkening ominously.

    ¡°We¡¯ll keep moving day and night,¡± Patrick said, his tone serious. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to rest¡ªnot with the True Horde gearing up to attack. They¡¯re just waiting for us to drop our guard.¡±

    ¡°Wait a minute¡­ no rest at all?¡± Hazel protested, a frown creeping across her face.

    ¡°It¡¯s harsh, but that¡¯s the reality of battle,¡± Patrick said steadily. ¡°If we rest, the True Horde will seize the chance to strike. So we must keep moving; so far, we¡¯ve only seen their movements, but they haven¡¯t attacked yet.¡±

    Hazel stifled a yawn, fatigue creeping in. ¡°Okay then¡­¡±

    ¡°Stay awake!¡± Patrick urged, his tone firm but playful. ¡°We¡¯re still far from the front line. The enemy won¡¯t rest, and neither can we.¡±

    ¡°Can we at least rotate?¡± Hazel asked, hoping for some mercy.

    ¡°Absolutely. We need to rotate so everyone can catch some rest and regain strength. Just stay focused and don¡¯t fall asleep,¡± he replied, a hint of humor lightening his words.

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Hazel replied, but Patrick could see the fatigue etched on her face, her eyelids drooping heavily.

    Suddenly, rain began to pour down, soaking them both. ¡°Ah, rain! Good for covering our tracks,¡± Patrick remarked, grinning despite the downpour. ¡°But now you¡¯re wet and probably cold too. So try not to fall asleep¡­ don¡¯t fall asleep¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes, but do we even know where the enemy is?¡± Hazel asked, her voice tinged with concern.

    ¡°Only through our scouts. They¡¯re waiting at the front line but won¡¯t attack until they feel strong enough to crush us,¡± Patrick explained, his brow furrowing slightly.

    ¡°So they¡¯re just shadowing us?¡± Hazel mused, glancing around as the rain continued to pour.

    ¡°Exactly. They¡¯re just watching us, waiting for us to tire. The longer we can keep moving without rest, the less likely they¡¯ll be to attack successfully,¡± Patrick said, his expression serious.

    ¡°But do you think that¡¯s sustainable in the long run?¡± Hazel asked, her tone skeptical.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not sustainable,¡± Patrick admitted, shaking his head. ¡°But we don¡¯t have a choice. The True Horde doesn¡¯t get tired. They¡¯re just waiting for us to slow down so they can crush us. We must keep moving forward, no matter what.¡±

    ¡°Just¡­ I see now why we¡¯re called ¡®Bastards,¡¯¡± Hazel said, a wry smile breaking through her fatigue.

    ¡°Right you are,¡± Patrick chuckled, the sound warm in the chilly rain.

    As they continued marching through the downpour, the night wore on without a break. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but the True Horde remained silent, as if they were waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

    ¡°How long until we reach the border?¡± Hazel asked as dawn began to break, her heart pounding with anticipation.

    ¡°The True Horde is right by that border. They¡¯ve seen and heard us already. They haven¡¯t attacked yet because they¡¯re probably waiting for reinforcements,¡± Patrick said, glancing at the darkening sky. ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of time now. We have a little more time before we reach the border.¡±

    ¡°Have you fought them before?¡± Hazel asked, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Not me, but many in my group have. They¡¯ve seen the brutality and ruthlessness of the True Horde firsthand,¡± Patrick replied, his expression growing somber.

    Hazel nodded, absorbing his words. ¡°They¡¯ve witnessed horrors¡ªpeople being killed in front of them, heads being severed, faces melting from explosions. Some suffered from mental scars that haunt them at night. Our leader, Zion, was even kidnapped and spent years in a True Horde camp, experiencing things no one should endure,¡± Patrick said, his voice heavy with gravity.

    ¡°Really? I didn¡¯t know that¡­ Are you sure that story is real?¡± Hazel asked, her eyes widening.

    ¡°Absolutely. If you don¡¯t believe me, ask the veterans of this mission. They¡¯ll tell you about Zion¡¯s time in that horrific camp,¡± Patrick urged.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ I see¡­¡± Hazel yawned again, struggling to stay awake.

    ¡°You¡¯re still sleepy. You need to resist. It¡¯s not a good time to rest,¡± Patrick reminded her.

    ¡°This is the worst decision of my life,¡± she groaned, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her.

    ¡°It¡¯s a sacrifice we must make for the good of the mission,¡± Patrick replied, ever the optimist.

    ¡°Why do you still look so fresh? Are you on drugs or something?¡± Hazel teased, a hint of laughter in her voice.

    Patrick laughed heartily. ¡°No, that¡¯s just my nature! I stay positive so the team can draw motivation from me. Even if I¡¯m tired, I can¡¯t let that show.¡±

    ¡°How can we sustain this kind of operation? At this rate, we¡¯ll be defeated by our own bodies,¡± Hazel pointed out, her tone serious again.

    ¡°We can¡¯t keep this up for long, but we don¡¯t have a choice. The True Horde is just as tough as we are. They can fight without rest as long as we do. The difference is they have more numbers. That¡¯s why we must keep moving forward,¡± Patrick explained, resolute.

    ¡°Yes¡­¡± Hazel said, feeling the pressure of their situation.

    ¡°Just don¡¯t fall asleep,¡± Patrick urged, his voice softening. ¡°I don¡¯t want to lose you¡­¡±

    ¡°Shhhh¡­¡± Hazel murmured, feeling her eyelids grow heavy.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ give me some drugs,¡± Hazel murmured, her voice thick with exhaustion.

    Patrick sighed, torn between amusement and concern. ¡°I¡¯ve got a pill that¡¯ll keep you awake for a whole day, but I can¡¯t promise it won¡¯t drive you a little crazy. It has no effect on me, but for most people, it¡¯s like rocket fuel¡­ and not the good kind.¡± He handed her the small, unassuming pill, eyeing her with a mix of skepticism and hope.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, Hatman,¡± Hazel said, her tone light, though the fatigue lingered in her eyes.

    ¡°Okay.¡± Patrick watched her swallow the pill, a nervous knot forming in his stomach.

    A few hours later, the pill began to kick in. Hazel felt the fog of fatigue lift, replaced by a sharpness that made her more alert. ¡°Yes!¡± she exclaimed, her pace quickening. ¡°I¡¯m awake! Time to see the sights!¡±

    And the sights were¡­ interesting. This entire road told a silent story, a stark contrast to the official narrative. The mass recruitment had left deep scars: empty villages, mostly inhabited by older women and young mothers with tired eyes and clinging children. They even passed a young man in a rather unconvincing skirt and scarf, clearly trying to avoid conscription ¨C a detail Hazel spotted instantly thanks to her eye implant. He looked like he¡¯d raided his grandmother¡¯s closet in the dark. Yet, in every village and town, the Khagan¡¯s crimson flag flapped proudly in the wind. Free food, courtesy of the Red Nation, was being handed out, and any mention of the recent defeats was conspicuously absent. ¡°They¡¯re certainly putting on a brave face,¡± Hazel observed, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. ¡°But I wonder how long they can keep up the charade.¡±

 Chapter 41 First Clash

    Finally, they reached the border between the Red Nation and True Horde territory, passing by the ruins of old buildings. In front of the convoy was a tank equipped with a massive roller designed to trigger any mines or explosives on contact. If it hit an explosion, only the roller would take the damage. The atmosphere shifted, charged with palpable tension. In the distance, hordes of True Horde soldiers were preparing for an assault, their vehicles gathering like storm clouds on the horizon.

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ we¡¯ve arrived,¡± Hazel observed, her heart pounding.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ it seems the time has come for us to fight,¡± Patrick replied, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of impending conflict. ¡°And we had no time for rest. I doubt you can sleep now, thanks to that pill. So, stay awake!¡±

    ¡°So who¡¯s making the first move?¡± Hazel asked, excitement mixing with anxiety.

    ¡°It looks like we¡¯re going to attack,¡± Patrick said, his gaze fixed on the enemy. ¡°I have no idea how this will go down. It¡¯s either we¡¯ll win gloriously or we¡¯ll all be turned into Swiss cheese. But we must strike now; we can¡¯t let the True Horde attack us first.¡±

    ¡°Good¡­¡± Hazel nodded, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

    ¡°Prepare for battle! Get ready to fight! Victory is within our grasp,¡± Patrick urged, his voice rising with fervor. The sounds of the True Horde grew louder, echoing ominously across the battlefield.

    ¡°Why hasn¡¯t our tank shot yet?¡± Hazel questioned, glancing at the massive machine.

    ¡°If we open fire now, the gunshot will reveal our location. They¡¯ll know we¡¯re attacking. So we need to hold our fire until the right moment,¡± Patrick explained, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement.

    ¡°I see¡­¡± Hazel replied, her mind racing as she observed the terrain around them. The landscape was flat, dotted with sparse bushes and small trees, but mostly it was just a vast expanse of open ground. ¡°It¡¯s a bit weird, isn¡¯t it? We can hear them, but we can¡¯t see them,¡± she mused.

    ¡°Yeah, it seems they haven¡¯t reached us yet, or they¡¯ve stopped for some reason. But I don¡¯t know why they¡¯re holding back,¡± Patrick said, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

    Hazel checked her weapon, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. Suddenly, a thunderous crack echoed nearby, startling them both. She turned her head, squinting into the rain, and spotted something fast approaching.

    ¡°Permission to fire!¡± she shouted, adrenaline surging.

    Hazel squeezed the trigger, sending bullets streaking toward the approaching riders. She hit several, and they tumbled from their bikes, but the remaining bikers swerved and began to flee. Then, as if summoned by the chaos, another wave of bikers appeared, even larger than the first.

    ¡°Here they come! They¡¯re on a fast track to our position!¡± Hazel shouted, heart racing.

    As the first wave started shooting back, Hazel ducked behind the tank, returning fire. The air was filled with the acrid smell of gunpowder and the frantic sounds of battle. Some bikers got too close for comfort, hurling explosives toward the tank. Hazel noticed they were clad in body armor, making them a tough target.

    ¡°No you don¡¯t!¡± Hazel shouted, drawing his revolver, a larger caliber than her rifle, and firing at the nearest climber attempting to scale the tank.

    The biker fell, surprised by the sudden shot, causing others to hesitate. ¡°They¡¯re getting too close!¡± he warned, his heart racing.

    ¡°Stay sharp! We need to keep them off the tank!¡± Patrick shouted, taking aim.

    Hazel grabbed a nearby explosive and hurled it at the bikers in the middle of the road, catching them off guard. The explosion sent several tumbling, but others pressed forward, determined to reach the tank.

    ¡°They¡¯re relentless!¡± Hazel exclaimed, frustration mounting.

    As more bikers closed in, Hazel¡¯s resolve hardened. ¡°Patrick, don¡¯t go too far! Our priority is to cover the tank! Go take out the ones around us and order the tank to fire at the road!¡±

    ¡°Got it!¡± Patrick replied, sprinting to relay the command.

    Suddenly, True Horde soldiers appeared among the ruins, ambushing them, and the situation descended into total chaos.

    ¡°They¡¯re damn near!¡± Hazel shot back, her voice rising in urgency. ¡°Cover me while I reload!¡±

    Just then, a sniper from a nearby building seized the moment, opening fire on the approaching True Horde soldiers. Bullets struck true, and several enemies fell, forcing others to retreat temporarily.

    ¡°Good shot!¡± Hazel cheered, relief flooding her as some of the pressure lifted.

    But the True Horde was regrouping, shouting with fervor as they prepared for their next wave.

    Suddenly, another wave of bikers surged forward, their speed alarming. Some attempted to climb the sides of the tank, while others threw explosives with reckless abandon.

    ¡°Are they ever going to learn?¡± Hazel muttered incredulously, bracing herself for impact.

    The explosions echoed around them, the sound deafening and disorienting. The tank shuddered under the force, but it stood firm, its armor holding. after another gruelling fight. true horde army retreat,

    Now there was a brief moment to catch their breath. The relentless rain continued to pour, but the True Horde soldiers were no longer charging headlong. They were cautious now, firing but taking their time.

    Hazel looked down at her cracked helmet, then spotted a nearby corpse. With a quick decision, she snatched up a sturdier helmet and swapped it for her own, feeling a sense of renewed confidence as she put it on. The new helmet fit perfectly, its steel frame a reassuring weight.

    ¡°Hey, check it out! I look like a proper soldier now,¡± she joked, glancing at Patrick.

    Patrick grinned, though his eyes were still filled with concern. ¡°You look good! Just remember, a helmet won¡¯t save you if you fall asleep on the job.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Hazel chuckled, but then turned serious again, observing their surroundings. Patrick was still near her, ensuring she wouldn¡¯t drift off. It was clear he cared about her well-being, and that made her feel a little better amidst the chaos.

    Patrick surveyed the battlefield, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the movements of the True Horde. ¡°Their strategy is quite predictable,¡± he began, his voice steady and confident. ¡°They always launch attacks at high speed, often from unexpected directions. But most of the time? They charge in a single direction. That gives us a chance¡ªwe can predict where they¡¯re going and how fast they¡¯ll come at us. It makes planning our tactics a whole lot easier.¡±

    Hazel, her brow furrowed in concentration, leaned against the cold, metallic surface of the tank. ¡°Hnn. Perhaps their general isn¡¯t around,¡± she suggested, a note of hope edging into her voice.

    ¡°Exactly! That¡¯s our biggest advantage,¡± Patrick said, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°We took out their general. Without a leader, they¡¯re bound to be confused. If we can capitalize on that, we can send them into chaos. Just imagine¡ªwithout their big boss barking orders, they¡¯ll be like headless chickens running around!¡±

    Hazel¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°So, we¡¯ve already killed their leaders?¡±

    ¡°Yep! We did! Now they don¡¯t have a general leading them. Each regiment is stuck with a small-time leader, which means utter chaos in their ranks. If we play our cards right, we can finish them off much easier than before!¡± Patrick leaned back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as he reveled in the advantage they had.

    ¡°I see¡­¡± Hazel nodded, her mind whirring as she processed the information.

    ¡°But we still have to keep our wits about us,¡± Patrick warned, his expression sobering. ¡°Just because we¡¯ve taken out their leader doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re out of the fight. There¡¯s always someone with ambition ready to claim the top spot, and those kinds of folks? They won¡¯t hesitate to do whatever it takes to get what they want. This is war, after all. We can¡¯t let our guard down. One small mistake can lead to big consequences, and that goes for them too.¡±

    As Patrick spoke, he noticed Hazel¡¯s eyelids growing heavy. A yawn escaped her lips, and before he knew it, she was leaning against the tank, drifting into a nap. He watched, amused, as she fell asleep almost instantly, the tension of the battle momentarily forgotten. The tank¡¯s warm metal provided a comforting support, and he couldn¡¯t help but chuckle quietly at how quickly she had succumbed to sleep.

    ¡°What time is it?¡± Hazel mumbled as she stirred, blinking sleep from her eyes.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s been about thirty minutes,¡± Patrick replied, a grin on his face. ¡°You¡¯ve been out for almost twenty-five of those. You really sleep like a log! I almost thought you didn¡¯t have any nightmares while you were at it,¡± he teased, a hint of admiration in his tone.

    ¡°Yeah, no,¡± she replied, rubbing her eyes as if to wipe away the remnants of sleep.

    At that moment, Alam climbed atop the tank, surveying the surroundings like a lookout.

    Patrick stretched, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle into his bones. ¡°Hmm¡­ now I need to rest too,¡± he said, lying down on the ground near the tank. He propped his head on one hand, glancing over at Hazel as she began to munch on her Meal Ready-to-Eat (MRE).

    ¡°You seem distant, Hazel,¡± Patrick remarked, concern etched on his face. ¡°What¡¯s weighing on you?¡±

    ¡°Just¡­ memories,¡± she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Of my brother. I can¡¯t shake the feeling that I¡¯m letting him down.¡±

    While she chewed thoughtfully, Patrick watched her, curiosity mingling with amusement. There was something comforting about sharing this moment, even amid the chaos that surrounded them.

    ¡°I see.¡± Hazel nodded, her mind clearly calculating. ¡°So, tell me¡ªhow can I become a commander and get a promotion?¡±

    hazel start to think if she would no chance on this brutal war as foot soldier

    Patrick chuckled, launching into a lengthy explanation of the Khaganate¡¯s ranking system and the various paths to advancement. Hazel listened intently, absorbing every detail. The conversation sparked something within her, a renewed determination to climb the ranks. The journey to the front lines became a journey toward her own ambition. Months later, that ambition would lead her to a place far from the battlefields of Asia¡ªto the hallowed halls of Area 51.

    early Agustus 2404: Area 51, North America

    Once a top-secret facility shrouded in mystery, Area 51 had transformed into West Point 2.0, a bustling hub of elite military training and cutting-edge technology. The air buzzed with anticipation, thick with the scent of determination and the faint hum of machinery. Recruits gathered in the vast hall, which felt more like a coliseum than a classroom, each one a potential rival in this high-stakes arena.

    The Khaganate had¡­ interesting recruitment criteria. They had a rather large ex-prisoner population, so they had a special incentive. Freshly released convicts started at Private or, if they were really troublesome, Second Class Private. It was a practical solution to a social problem, though some purists grumbled about lowering standards. Ex-gang members and grid racers, however, were fast-tracked to Sergeant. Apparently, a knack for organized crime or high-speed vehicular mayhem translated surprisingly well to military leadership. The real prize, though, was unlocking the middle ranks ¨C Captain and Major. That required surviving a series of accelerated courses and VR simulations that were rumored to be less "training exercise" and more "existential crisis simulator."

    Hazel stood among them, her heart racing as she prepared for a critical academy test. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the eclectic mix of unsavory figures.  some figure act as tester circling the room. acting to watch the test unfold. but on his collar. a predesigned code. similar like a barcode who only can see on UV light vision. hazel. then just answer the test with ease, if you had money and link on this nation. you pratically can do anything. and hazel had lot of money to spend.

    It was a subtle reminder that even here, within the walls of the academy, secrets and hidden agendas lurked beneath the surface.

    Armed with her knowledge of military tactics gleaned from reading The Art of War and her experiences in gang activity, she felt ready: an implant in her eyes that enhanced her vision, allowing her to zoom in on details with surgical precision. As she glanced at her fellow participants who already marked, she discreetly copied their answers, the thrill of the game sparking excitement in her veins.

    When the results were posted, her heart raced. Hazel jumped slightly, her name glowing triumphantly on the board. ¡°Yes!¡± she whispered to herself, a grin spreading across her face. She had passed the test, and the first hurdle was behind her.

    Later that night, the atmosphere shifted dramatically as Zion took the podium, flanked by his formidable Amazonian Praetorian Guard. Nara, a fierce warrior with a reputation that preceded her, now stood as part of Zion¡¯s elite bodyguard. The hall fell silent, every eye trained on the charismatic leader as he prepared to speak.

    ¡°My people,¡± Zion began, his voice booming with authority, ¡°you are the chosen ones.¡±

    A ripple of anticipation coursed through the crowd as he continued, ¡°We have gathered here today, not just as soldiers, but as a unified force, a storm that will sweep across the known world. For too long, we have been scattered, our strength divided. Now, under the banner of the free world, we shall rise as one. We shall forge an empire that stretches from the rising sun to the setting moon.¡±

    Hazel felt her heart swell with pride as Zion¡¯s words filled the hall. The power of his speech was intoxicating, igniting a fire within her. ¡°We shall ride across mountains, swim through rivers, and march through deserts. No obstacle shall stand in our way!¡± he declared, his passion infectious.

    ¡°But remember,¡± he added, his tone growing serious, ¡°our strength lies not just in our swords and bows, but in our unity and discipline. Let us ride forth, my warriors, and claim our destiny! Let us conquer the world!¡±

    The crowd erupted into cheers, a wave of enthusiasm that surged through Hazel. She knew she had made the right decision in joining this cause. But amidst the jubilation, she noticed something that gave her pause¡ªamong the stoic faces of the Amazonian guards, one girl with brown eyes wore an expression of unease. It was a fleeting glance, but it troubled Hazel. What could bring doubt to such a fierce warrior?

    Shrugging off the thought, Hazel refocused on her path. She had her own revenge to seek, and nothing would distract her from that goal. The energy in the hall crackled with potential, and for Hazel, the journey was just beginning.

    Later, as the moon hung high in the sky, Hazel stepped out onto the balcony, the sounds of celebration echoing behind her. While other new officers threw a party in the hall, she found a quiet moment to reflect. Gazing up at the moonlit sky, memories of her brother flooded back.

    In the past, when her homeland had descended into chaos, warlords roamed freely, killing each other without remorse. She and her brother had formed a group of vigilantes, starting as a ragtag band and evolving into a formidable gang. They called themselves the Flying Dragon, and one by one, they took down warlord after warlord, creating a semblance of order amidst the madness.

    But then, in the distance, Alam had begun his rebellion against the Red Nation, attacking its allies. The Flying Dragon found itself caught in the crossfire. Her brother was killed in action, and the current leader of the Flying Dragon surrendered to Alam after their base was destroyed. Hazel had been in New York for a weapons deal, blissfully unaware of the unfolding tragedy until it was too late.

    Gazing up at the moon, memories of her brother washed over her. They had dreamt of bringing order to their chaotic homeland, a dream that had died with him on some forgotten battlefield. She tightened her grip on the glass in her hand, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "If you could see me now," she whispered, a sad smile touching her lips.

    Far to the east, thousands of miles away, another front in the ever-expanding war was about to erupt.

 Chapter 42 Vacation

    The West Taiga, mid-August 2404, was a breathtaking expanse of nature, where towering larch trees stood sentinel with their reddish-brown bark and vibrant green needles. As autumn approached, these needles would transform into stunning golden yellows, painting the landscape in warm hues.

    Alam, reunited with Eleanor, was on a journey from Xian to Carpathia. Their mission: to discuss crucial supply issues with Carmelita, a key figure in the Wanderer network. The journey was meant to be a simple paperwork mission. They traveled in a heavily armed Hind helicopter, a reliable workhorse of the True Horde air force, accompanied by a small escort.

    Eleanor, ever the vigilant observer, squinted at the radar screen. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong with the radar,¡± she announced, her voice laced with concern.

    Before anyone could react, the helicopter jolted violently as a surface-to-air missile struck.

    ¡°What? But we¡¯re friendly! Traitors!¡± Alam exclaimed, incredulity etched across his face.

    ¡°Sir, we¡¯re going for an emergency landing!¡± the crew shouted, urgency in their voices.

    The Hind helicopter deployed flares, desperately trying to distract the second missile. The crew held their breath, praying for a miracle. The second missile was indeed diverted, but a third missile was already in the air.

    ¡°Incoming missile!¡± Eleanor warned, her eyes wide with alarm.

    The helicopter shuddered again as the third missile struck, this time hitting the tail.

    ¡°We¡¯re losing power and control! Hang on!¡± Eleanor shouted, gripping her seat as the helicopter spiraled downwards.

    With a deafening crash, the Hind came to rest in the forest, surrounded by the towering larch trees that now seemed to loom ominously over them.

    ¡°Hahh... everyone okay?¡± Alam asked, his voice shaky as he surveyed the wreckage.

    The crew slowly emerged from the wreckage, shaken but miraculously alive.

    ¡°Somehow, we all survived, sir,¡± one crew member reported, disbelief coloring his tone.

    ¡°Thanks, Gott! Let¡¯s get out of here; they¡¯ll send someone to hunt us,¡± Alam urged, scanning the treeline for any signs of danger.

    As they began to move, Alam noticed one of the crew limping. ¡°You okay, man?¡± he asked, concern creeping into his voice.

    ¡°Sir, I think I can¡¯t walk anymore,¡± the injured crewman admitted, leaning against a tree for support.

    ¡°Come on, man. We¡¯ll get out of here together,¡± Alam insisted, determination in his eyes.

    ¡°Sorry, sir. I can¡¯t... It hurts. Just go,¡± the crewman replied, his voice heavy with resignation.

    With a heavy sigh, Alam approached him. ¡°Here, take my pistol,¡± he said, handing it over.

    ¡°Thanks, sir,¡± the crewman said, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. Just aim at the enemy,¡± Alam instructed, his tone firm.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll kill them all... Heh,¡± the injured crewman replied, a weak smile breaking through his pain.

    Alam and the remaining crew started to move, navigating through the dense forest. ¡°First, we¡¯ll head to the nearby river and follow the stream to a settlement,¡± he planned, but just then, gunshots rang out in the distance.

    ¡°Damn! They¡¯re coming! Quick, double time!¡± Alam shouted, adrenaline surging through him.

    The crew sprinted between the trees, hearts pounding, when suddenly a dog barked nearby.

    ¡°We need to take care of that first... Form a line!¡± Alam commanded, his voice steady despite the chaos.

    As the crew formed a line, three dogs emerged from the underbrush. ¡°Shoot!¡± Alam ordered.

    Two dogs fell, but one lunged at a crew member. Alam reacted instinctively, shooting the dog just in time.

    ¡°Ahh, thanks, sir,¡± the crewman gasped, relief flooding his voice.

    ¡°Not yet! There are enemies!¡± Alam warned, spotting armored men opening fire on them. The crew¡¯s bullets ricocheted off the armored foes.

    ¡°Damn! Disengage!¡± Alam shouted, leading the surviving crew away.

    ¡°Ahh... hhh...¡± Alam panted as they ran, but soon he realized only three crew members remained with him.

    ¡°I love you guys. Let¡¯s separate in multiple directions. We have a better chance to survive,¡± he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

    The crew, panting heavily, nodded in agreement. ¡°One last request from me, as your leader and comrade,¡± Alam said, removing his jacket and pants.

    He switched clothes with one of the crew members, who now looked like their great leader. ¡°There¡¯s a little chance they¡¯ll think you¡¯re me. Are you sure you want to become bait?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°Sir, anything for you,¡± the crewman replied, determination shining in his eyes.

    ¡°Good. I¡¯m proud to have you all in my command,¡± Alam said, his heart swelling with gratitude.

    As they prepared to separate, the crew saluted him, and Alam returned the gesture. They split up, each taking a different path through the forest.

    But the chaos didn¡¯t end there. An enemy, hidden in the trees, killed one crew member.

    ¡°Ahh! I got the leader! I win this hunt!¡± the archer shouted, reveling in his victory.

    Alam kept running until he reached the riverside, panting heavily. ¡°Hah. Hah...¡± he gasped, but then he heard a whistle. Turning, he aimed his weapon at an armed man. In a split second, Alam¡¯s bullet struck the man¡¯s mask, but the armored foe retaliated, hitting Alam in the shoulder and hip.

    Alam was thrown into the river, the cold water enveloping him as he struggled to stay afloat.

    ¡°Ahh! That was a good one!¡± the armored man called out, but he hesitated, hearing over the radio that someone resembling Alam had been captured. He decided to stop chasing the real Alam.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Dragged by the current, Alam managed to resurface, swallowing painkillers as he limped along the riverbank. After a few kilometers, he spotted a group of fishermen. Desperate, he tried to shout for help, but his voice was too weak. Instead, he aimed his gun at the sky, hoping to attract their attention, but he quickly realized he might draw the hunters instead.

    ¡°Khen aru?¡± one fisherman called out, noticing Alam¡¯s distress.

    ¡°Aa...a...¡± Alam could only point at his wounds, his vision blurring.

    The fisherman approached, speaking in a language Alam didn¡¯t understand, but the concern in his eyes was clear. Soon, a crowd gathered around Alam, their faces a mix of shock and curiosity. As Alam¡¯s strength waned, he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

    When he finally awoke, he found his wounds bandaged and a figure approaching the tent.

    ¡°Ahhh... how long was I out?¡± Alam croaked, trying to sit up.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been passed out for a day. We found you by the river current. You have a bad wound and a high fever,¡± the fisherman replied, his deep voice resonating with authority.

    ¡°I see... do you have telecommunication?¡± Alam asked, his mind racing.

    ¡°We have a shortwave radio, but there¡¯s been no response,¡± the fisherman gestured to an old radio sitting in the corner of the tent.

    ¡°Uh... why? Does it need a high signal?¡± Alam inquired, his brow furrowing.

    ¡°Yes, the radio needs enough wave signal for long-distance contact, but even in this region, the signal is weak,¡± the fisherman explained, glancing at Alam¡¯s injuries with concern.

    Alam lay on the riverbank, wincing as he adjusted his position. The crash of his helicopter still echoed in his mind, a reminder of the chaos that had brought him here. ¡°Did you hear the helicopter crash nearby? Maybe other hunters?¡± he asked, trying to gauge his surroundings.

    The fisherman shook his head, his expression serious. ¡°Only you and your strange gun have landed here. We¡¯ve looked around the river, but there¡¯s no sign of anyone else.¡± He set down his wooden cup of tea and approached Alam¡¯s wounds without asking for permission.

    ¡°Ahh, have you already pulled the bullet, sir?¡± Alam inquired, a hint of hope in his voice.

    The fisherman nodded, pulling out a dagger and preparing to cut away the fabric around Alam''s injuries.

    ¡°AAAA! What?! Just... huh, at least give a warning, heh!¡± Alam exclaimed, his heart racing as the fisherman¡¯s blade neared his skin.

    The fisherman paused, raising his palm in a gesture of apology before continuing his work.

    ¡°Okay, okay, please continue,¡± Alam said, swallowing some pills to steady himself. ¡°I think I¡¯m ready.¡±

    With a nod, the fisherman resumed, deftly cutting the cloth and extracting the bullet with practiced ease. He then applied herbs to the wounds, chanting softly in a native tongue as he worked.

    Alam blinked a few times, taken aback by the fisherman¡¯s calm demeanor amidst the chaos. ¡°Thank you... now,¡± he said, inspecting his hip. ¡°I think this bullet just went through my body.¡±

    After finishing his ritual, the fisherman poured fresh water into his palm and offered it to Alam. ¡°Drink,¡± he instructed, then sat back to observe.

    Alam coughed, the water refreshing yet startling. ¡°So much to tell... but for now, thank you. Let me rest for a while.¡±

    The fisherman nodded and stood up, taking away the empty bucket. Soon, a group of curious men and women gathered, watching Alam from a distance.

    ¡°Hey, wanna chocolate? Can you speak English or Mandarin? Russian, perhaps?¡± Alam called out, realizing he was still in his military gear, which felt out of place.

    After a few moments of silence, a young woman with long dark hair stepped forward, her tan skin glowing in the sunlight. ¡°Yes, I can speak English and Mandarin, but this place is so old; we prefer our native language.¡±

    ¡°I''m Alam. Have you heard or seen any soldiers around?¡± he asked, his curiosity piqued.

    The girl looked surprised by the question. ¡°You mean like the army or militia? In the north, we¡¯ve heard there¡¯s conflict. We haven¡¯t heard much about this region. Is it also under conflict?¡±

    ¡°No... I think not for now. My helicopter crashed around here,¡± Alam replied, his tone serious.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry to hear that. Do you have other teammates? Or maybe just you?¡± she asked, concern creeping into her voice.

    ¡°I... have no idea,¡± Alam admitted, feeling the weight of uncertainty.

    ¡°So you crashed in this area alone? If you don¡¯t mind me asking, what happened before you crashed?¡± she pressed.

    ¡°Hmmm... A missile hit us,¡± Alam said, looking down.

    The girl was momentarily speechless, then took a deep breath. ¡°I see... so are you military personnel?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sort of... heh,¡± Alam replied, trying to lighten the mood.

    ¡°And the missile that hit you, was it from the enemy army?¡± she inquired, her eyes wide with curiosity.

    ¡°Ehem... I don¡¯t know. It was just so sudden,¡± Alam said, feeling the tension in the air.

    ¡°Aah... I see. May I know your destination? Did you come here to get close to enemy territory, or is there another reason?¡± she asked, her interest piqued.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m going to China, Xian. Have you heard of it before?¡± Alam asked, hoping for a connection.

    The girl¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Yes, I know that place. It¡¯s a large city and the capital of Shaanxi province.¡±

    ¡°Bingo! So tell me, why is it so quiet here? Can you contact the outside world besides the radio?¡± Alam pressed, eager for information.

    ¡°Oh no... that radio is an antique. For the last decade, no one has ever responded to it. Why do you need outside contact so much? There¡¯s no signal in this area. It¡¯s hard to connect outside, and to reach outside, we need a long-distance radio,¡± she explained, her curiosity growing.

    ¡°Yes, I need to contact my friend,¡± Alam replied, feeling the urgency of his situation.

    ¡°Hmmm... that¡¯s hard. The long-distance radio is almost impossible... unless you travel to the city to reach it,¡± she said, contemplating how to assist him.

    ¡°After I fully heal, I will try leaving,¡± Alam said, determination creeping into his voice.

    ¡°I see. You can stay here at our encampment during your recovery, for a small fee, of course. How many days do you estimate you¡¯ll need to fully heal?¡± she offered, her tone shifting to one of practicality.

    alam Groan..¡±. I don¡¯t have money now. How about a letter of debt instead? You can exchange it for money while in the city,¡± Alam proposed, hoping for a solution.

    The girl looked surprised but thoughtful. ¡°Well, since you are military personnel... I¡¯ll trust you. You can stay here while you recover. You can do small jobs around here to pay back your debt. But you don¡¯t need money for now. Just focus on your recovery.¡±

    Alam settled into the warmth of the tent, grateful for the respite from the cold outside. He turned to the girl beside him, a soft smile breaking through his weariness. ¡°Thank you. May I know your name?¡±

    The girl looked up, her face lighting up with a smile. ¡°I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Nalin.¡±

    ¡°Nalin... That¡¯s a cute name,¡± Alam replied, his tone light and friendly.

    Nalin blushed slightly, shaking off her shyness. ¡°It¡¯s good to know you, Alam. I hope I can make your recovery as comfortable and smooth as possible.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Nalin. And who is that old man who brought me here? The fisherman dude?¡± Alam asked, curiosity piqued.

    Nalin chuckled at the mention of the old fisherman. ¡°His name is Hulan. He¡¯s very old and knows many things. Sometimes his actions seem strange, but he usually gets the job done. We trust him for many things.¡±

    ¡°Okay, Nalin. Bring me some water and a meal. I¡¯ll rest now,¡± Alam instructed, settling back against the cushions.

    Nalin nodded and turned to two boys nearby. ¡°You two, bring fresh water to Alam and some food.¡±

    The boys nodded eagerly and dashed off to fulfill her request. Alam sighed contentedly, closing his eyes for a moment.

    After a couple of hours, the boys returned with a steaming bowl of soup and a wooden bucket of fresh water. As they set the meal down, Alam heard whispers outside the tent. Curiosity got the better of him, and he cracked open an eye to see what was happening.

    A small crowd had gathered, their faces a mix of curiosity and suspicion. They whispered among themselves, glancing at Alam and then back at each other. Some of the girls blushed, while the boys looked on with wide eyes, clearly surprised by his presence.

    ¡°Hmm. I don¡¯t understand. My skin isn¡¯t that different from theirs,¡± Alam mused to himself.

    One girl, gathering her courage, stepped forward cautiously. She peeked through the tent flap, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity. ¡°May I ask, which kingdom or country do you come from?¡± she whispered.

    Alam blinked, taken aback by her directness. ¡°Hnn... True Horde Confederation,¡± he replied, his voice steady.

    The girl¡¯s expression shifted dramatically, her smile fading into a frown. She tilted her head, suspicion creeping into her gaze. ¡°Do you mean you are a member of the Red Nation army?¡± she whispered, leaning closer.

    ¡°No, we¡¯re different, dear,¡± Alam assured her, trying to ease her concerns.

    Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed to wrestle with her thoughts. Finally, she nodded, a hint of relief washing over her. ¡°I see... that is a relief. But why would someone from outside the kingdom come this far?¡±

    Alam shrugged, a playful smile on his lips. ¡°I don¡¯t know... Why?¡±

    The girl looked at him, her curiosity piqued again. ¡°How old are you?¡± she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    ¡°Im... kinda 27,¡± Alam replied, gauging her reaction.

    Her eyes widened in surprise. ¡°You¡¯re almost twice my age!¡± she exclaimed, a blush creeping across her cheeks.

    ¡°Ha, right,¡± Alam chuckled, enjoying the banter. ¡°And you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m 16 years old. I¡¯m one of the oldest in my village,¡± she said, her voice softening.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Alam said, leaning back. ¡°So, do your parents live nearby?¡±

    At the mention of her parents, the girl¡¯s expression shifted. She looked down, her voice trembling slightly. ¡°My parents got separated when the enemy army came. My dad was captured, and my mom... she was killed. I don¡¯t remember my dad¡¯s face.¡±

    Alam¡¯s heart sank at her words. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that. Who takes care of you now?¡±

    She hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ground. ¡°Right now, Hulan uncle takes care of us. He¡¯s the oldest man in this encampment and acts as our community leader.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Alam said, patting her head gently.

    Nalin blushed fiercely at the gesture, pulling back slightly but unable to hide her smile. She looked at him, her shyness returning. ¡°Thank you, Alam. I hope you recover quickly.¡±

    ¡°Me too,¡± Alam replied, closing his eyes again,

    Nalin leaned closer, her curiosity piqued. ¡°So, what about you? Do you have any siblings?¡±

    Alam chuckled lightly, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. ¡°Aha, yeah, kinda. I¡¯m the youngest of three brothers.¡±

    A smile spread across Nalin¡¯s face at the mention of his birth order. ¡°Are you close with your older brothers? Or are you the typical younger sibling who always gets bossed around?¡±

    ¡°No, we fought a lot when we were young,¡± Alam replied, a playful glint in his eyes.

    Nalin laughed, her amusement infectious. ¡°So you probably always lost those fights, right?¡±

    ¡°Ha! You could say that,¡± Alam said, closing his eyes for a moment, relishing the lighthearted banter. ¡°Oh yeah, what¡¯s your name again?¡±

    Nalin giggled, her confidence shining through. ¡°My name is Nalin. You know that already.¡± She paused, her tone shifting to a more intimate whisper. ¡°Can I ask you something more?¡±

    ¡°Last question,¡± Alam replied, intrigued.

    Nalin nodded eagerly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°Why are you so big and strong? Is it because you¡¯re trained as a military personnel, or are you just naturally built like that?¡±

    Alam smirked, ¡°I¡¯m actually not that bulky. Did you know there¡¯s someone who¡¯s twice my size?¡±

    Nalin¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief. ¡°N-no! How can that be possible? That person must be enormous!¡±

    ¡°World is vast, Nalin. Someday you¡¯ll see how diverse we are,¡± Alam said, a hint of mystery in his tone.

    Nalin nodded, her curiosity still bubbling. ¡°May I ask, do you have a girlfriend? I heard military personnel never have time for personal things.¡±

    Alam hesitated, a playful smile creeping onto his face. ¡°I... kinda have that, I guess. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Nalin¡¯s eyes sparkled with excitement. ¡°Really? So it¡¯s kinda your girlfriend then? If you don¡¯t mind, may I ask her name?¡±

    ¡°Hmn... It¡¯s a secret,¡± Alam winked.

    Nalin blushed deeply, her surprise evident. ¡°You tease me! So you refuse to tell me her name? That means you¡¯re really close, right?¡±

    ¡°Ha! Anyway, I need sleep. Let¡¯s continue this later,¡± Alam said, stifling a yawn.

    Nalin¡¯s cheeks flushed even more at the thought of continuing their conversation. She glanced back at the encampment, then turned to him with a shy smile. ¡°You have very beautiful hair. It looks soft and shiny.¡±

    Her compliment caught her off guard, and she quickly looked away, embarrassed. After a moment, she retreated to her tent, whispering to herself, her heart racing.

    As Alam drifted off to sleep, he occasionally groaned and squirmed, the remnants of their conversation lingering in his mind.

 Chapter 43 Taiga Treatment

    Alam¡¯s sleep was restless.. his breath is heavy. and when he wake up in middle of night, his head is dizzy. his troat is sore, he trying reach out for water from nearby bowl. there is no water. and the fisherman is nowhere to found. if i going to die. atleast someone will find me alam thought. he then just back to sleep without water.

    Eleanor, blonde hair flowing in a white dress, stood on a distant hill in a field of wildflowers. Behind her, his helicopter crew stood beside the Hind helicopter, she wave at him. alam instictly walk toward her, but their distance is getting far, alam then walk faster until he full sprint. but their distance getting far. until he see a xian. complete with their monument in other distance. alam then take the path to xian. As he turned back to the hill one last time, Eleanor and the crew gave him a final salute. He nodded and kept walking.

    Morning arrived, and Alam slowly opened his eyes to the fresh air wafting through the tent. The sun was high, and the encampment buzzed with activity. He spotted Nalin walking by with a basket, casting glances in his direction.

    ¡°Hey, someone call... um, who was that girl again? Nalin!¡± he called out his voice is bit dry

    Nalin noticed him waking up and quickly ran over, her face lighting up. ¡°You woke up! Are you feeling better?¡±

    ¡°Kind of better, but my hips still hurt. I can¡¯t walk properly. Can you get me some water and a meal?¡± Alam requested.

    Nalin nodded eagerly, fetching a wooden bucket of water and a dish of vegetable soup with small pieces of meat. She approached his bed, bending over to set the food down, her face flushing as she withdrew.

    alam then take a sip, and empty the cup in one glup

    ¡°Do you have an English book or something?¡± Alam asked, breaking the silence.

    Nalin¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°I do have a book! Actually, I have three. But one is a mini dictionary, and the other two are about old knowledge that isn¡¯t very useful. The useful one is small and thin but has a lot of information.¡±

    ¡°Ehh, I¡¯m kinda bored doing nothing in bed. Yes, bring your favorite book,¡± Alam said, his interest piqued.

    Nalin stood up, retrieving the book and returning to sit beside him on the bed. She placed it down carefully, her body brushing against his, sending a jolt of warmth through them both.

    ¡°What¡¯s this book about?¡± Alam asked, glancing at the cover.

    Nalin looked shyly at him, her blush deepening. ¡°This book talks about many things, especially the past¡ªhow human society rises and falls, the technology, medicine, and the inventions of humanity. Mostly, it¡¯s about history and how things became what they are today.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I see. Sounds boring but great,¡± Alam said, opening the book to read.

    As he delved into the pages, She retrieved the book and sat beside him, careful not to jostle his injured side, her heart fluttering with excitement and curiosity about the man beside her.

    Alam leaned back, a curious glint in his eyes. ¡°Hmm. Tell me about your past life in the city before moving here.¡±

    Nalin''s eyes widened slightly in surprise. She paused for a moment, contemplating his question. ¡°My past life? How far do you want to know? From the moment I was born?¡±

    ¡°Umm... yeah,¡± Alam replied, intrigued.

    Nalin took a deep breath, a nostalgic smile creeping onto her face. ¡°Well, I was born in a small city in East Asia. Back then, I was just a normal girl, living peacefully under the shelter of my family and community. I loved storytelling as a child, spinning tales of heroes and villains. I even wrote my own fantasy stories about epic heroes.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°I see. What was life like there before the war?¡± Alam asked, his tone gentle.

    Her expression shifted, a hint of sadness creeping in. ¡°Everyone enjoyed their lives. There was no fear of war or disease. The nation was prosperous, advanced, and the people were civilized and open-minded. Technology was thriving...¡±

    Alam nodded, sensing the weight of her memories. ¡°I think that¡¯s enough for now.¡±

    Feeling a bit awkward, Nalin looked down, realizing the sensitivity of her past. ¡°You don¡¯t want to know why I live in this encampment now instead of the city?¡± she asked quietly.

    ¡°I know what happened next,¡± Alam said, patting her head absentmindedly as he turned back to his book.

    Nalin blushed deeply, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. ¡°Then you know why I¡¯m here. Can you tell me what exactly happened after the war started? I¡¯m still a bit confused.¡±

    ¡°Not really. Not much interesting happened. You¡¯ll learn the details yourself when you¡¯re older,¡± Alam replied, a hint of mystery in his voice.

    Nalin¡¯s face fell slightly, and she nodded slowly, trying to mask her disappointment. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. I shouldn¡¯t bother you with this anymore. I¡¯ll get you some food soon. I have work to do in the encampment.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Alam said, watching her as she turned to leave.

    For three days, Alam was confined to the tent, his world a sliver of light from the entrance. He watched the mundane life of the encampment unfold: children chasing chickens, a few sheep bleating in a makeshift pen, and occasionally, a man riding a sturdy-looking deer ¨C probably for herding, Alam figured. The fisherman who¡¯d dragged him in never reappeared. What a jerk, Alam thought, flipping another page of his mind-numbingly boring book. At least Nalin was taking care of him.

    He still hadn''t changed his clothes ¨C three days in the same grime ¨C but he was starting to get used to it. He eyed his leather jacket, hanging near the entrance, sunning in a futile attempt to air it out. Three neat bullet holes punctuated the chest. Damn good jacket, he thought with a touch of gratitude. He was glad he¡¯d ditched the Xian emperor¡¯s fancy silks before the crash. Those wouldn''t have stopped a thing.

    Every afternoon, Nalin cooked near the tent, and Alam watched her process with a mix of curiosity and amusement. She''d hack chunks of sheep meat ¨C each roughly the size of a man''s fist ¨C from a larger carcass, then toss them into a heavy iron skillet. After adding a handful of dried herbs and what looked like crushed berries, she¡¯d place a heated river stone directly into the skillet, then set the whole thing over a small fire pit. It was a bizarre cooking method, but Alam wasn¡¯t about to complain. He ate in comfortable silence as Nalin occasionally chattered about the day¡¯s events ¨C who¡¯s sheep had wandered off, which child had fallen in the stream.

    It was¡­ nice, in a way. Less spicy than the Xian cuisine he¡¯d grown accustomed to, but satisfyingly hearty. Meat had been a rare luxury in the cities and even his MRE rations on campaign, but here it was plentiful. Nalin had mentioned that while meat was abundant, spices and grains were scarce, traded from distant settlements. That explained the simple seasonings.

    On the third day, Alam finally felt strong enough to venture outside. The fresh air was a welcome change from the stuffy tent. Nalin¡¯s face lit up when she saw him. ¡°Oh my, I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re feeling much better! That¡¯s wonderful news!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, heh,¡± Alam replied, taking in his surroundings. The encampment was larger than he¡¯d initially thought, a cluster of a dozen dome-shaped nomadic dwellings. Smoke curled from openings at their peaks. Roughly woven fences separated the dwellings, and a low rock wall enclosed a small herd of sheep. A few children napped peacefully beside a couple of deer, their spotted coats blending with the dappled sunlight. Beyond the encampment, dense woods and thick vegetation stretched to the horizon. No high-tech anything in sight.

    Nalin smiled, leaning closer, a nervous blush rising on her cheeks. ¡°Can I ask you something¡­ about love?¡±

    ¡°Why so sudden? I thought you were going to show me around,¡± Alam teased.

    Flustered, Nalin pulled back. ¡°Oh! Right. I¡­ lost my mind for a moment. Yes, the tour first.¡± She laughed softly, still trembling with nervous energy. ¡°There¡¯s a beautiful clearing by the river. You¡¯ll like it.¡± She led him there, the water flowing gently around the encampment.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ Where¡¯s the nearest main road?¡± Alam asked, surveying the area.

    ¡°It¡¯s far that way,¡± Nalin pointed. ¡°Mercenaries and caravans use it for trading. They come every two or three weeks, mostly on weekends.¡±

    ¡°I see. I guess I¡¯ll wait for them,¡± Alam said, considering his options.

    Nalin¡¯s concern returned. ¡°Why do you want to go back to the city so badly? Are you sick? Or¡­?¡±

    ¡°My friends must be worried,¡± Alam replied, a hint of determination in his voice.

    Nalin¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°They must be¡­ disappearing without a word. But is that the only reason?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam said simply.

    ¡°If you find whoever shot down your helicopter¡­¡± Nalin began, then hesitated, ¡°Will you¡­ do something bad to them?¡±

    Alam smirked. ¡°Maybe a good spank on the butt,¡± he joked.

    Nalin laughed, then grew serious. ¡°There¡¯s a rule here: no killing. Anyone who does is considered a criminal and gets kicked out after a year or two.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Alam nodded.

    Nalin¡¯s concern deepened. ¡°How are you feeling? Can you walk okay?¡±

    ¡°I can manage,¡± Alam assured her, starting to move toward the river.

    ¡°Wait! Don¡¯t go there alone!¡± Nalin exclaimed, hurrying after him. ¡°The river¡¯s deep and cold. You¡¯re not strong enough yet. I can get you water in the tent.¡±

    ¡°Oh, alright...¡± Alam conceded.

    Nalin smiled, raising her hand to gently pat his neck from behind. ¡°If you just want to wash your face, you can do that in the tent. I can get you a small bowl of water.¡±

    ¡°Yeah...,¡± Alam yawned. ¡°I¡¯m kinda sleepy. I think I¡¯ll just head back to the tent and rest.¡±

    Nalin noticed his drowsiness and leaned closer, her voice soft. ¡°Yes, you seem really tired. Just go back to the tent. Don¡¯t make your condition worse.¡± She paused, worry etched on her face. ¡°But please promise me you¡¯ll be okay and that nothing bad will happen to you. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do if something happened when I¡¯m not there.¡±

    ¡°Yeah..i will enjoy my time in here until the caravan come. and dont worry about me now. i already feel better.¡± Alam replied, settling down for a rest.

    "actually. Nalin replied. "the caravan is depends on the weather and¡­ other things." She hesitated, glancing towards the woods.

    "Other things?" Alam asked.

    Nalin lowered her voice. "There have been¡­ rumors. Whispers of increased activity in the forests to the east. Not just animals.

    Alam''s eyes narrowed. "i see"

    Nalin pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders. "They say¡­ they say it''s the raiders or rogue soldier or somethings,  The ones who prey on the caravans."

    While he lay recovering in that remote village, the wheels of war continued to turn, carrying others towards their own destinies.

 Chapter 44 major hazel

    Time, like the relentless march of armies, paid little heed to individual struggles. Months had passed since Alam¡¯s helicopter crash in the West Taiga. The landscape had transformed, the vibrant hues of autumn fading into the stark grays and whites of winter. For Hazel, the months had been a relentless cycle of battles, each one more brutal than the last. The fresh scar on her arm, a souvenir from a close call with a True Horde grenadier, was a constant reminder of the war''s ever-present danger.

    She stood beside the Buffalo, now bearing the marks of numerous battles ¨C scorch marks, dents, and hastily welded repairs. The memory of her brother¡¯s laughter, once a source of comfort, now felt like a distant echo, a reminder of what she had lost. ¡°We¡¯ll bring justice to this chaos, Hazel,¡± he had said. The weight of that promise settled heavily on her shoulders as she climbed into the tank.

    ¡°Hey, Patrick! Hey, orange girl!¡± she called out, her voice hardened by months of command.

    Yu, who being out rank by hazel,bit irritated but she simply nodded. ¡°My name is Yu..¡± sigh¡±Major.¡±

    ¡°Okay, orange-haired Yu,¡± Hazel chuckled, settling into the tank as the engine roared to life. The Buffalo''s powerful engine belched steam into the air, its steel exterior glinting in the sunlight like a dragon¡¯s scaly hide.

    ¡°Come on... let¡¯s kill someone!¡± Hazel urged, excitement bubbling in her chest.

    ¡°Ulaan Baatar is the target,¡± Hazel said, spreading a map on the small table inside the tank. ¡°We need to break through the Horde¡¯s eastern defenses.¡±

    The Buffalo rumbled forward, crushing debris beneath its tracks. The radio crackled with updates from command. The distant rumble of explosions and the faint trails of smoke on the horizon told of battles raging elsewhere. The air crackled with tension.

    ¡°Incoming!¡± Yu shouted, pointing towards the sky. A barrage of missiles streaked across the sky, impacting the True Horde lines in the distance. ¡°Looks like they¡¯re having a bad day,¡± Hazel said, a grim smile playing on her lips.

    With a thunderous roar, the Buffalo''s cannon fired, sending a shell flying toward the target. Hazel watched through her scope as a giant flame erupted, engulfing the enemy settlement.

    ¡°Hell is coming,¡± she muttered, a grim smile creeping onto her lips.

    The battlefield erupted into chaos as the enemy tank, a massive walking fortress, appeared on the horizon. Yu''s jaw dropped in shock; she had never seen anything like it before.

    ¡°What is that? One of ours?¡± Hazel asked, bewildered.

    Yu shook her head, her eyes wide. ¡°No! That thing is enormous!¡±

    ¡°Shoot it!¡± Hazel commanded, adrenaline surging through him.

    The Buffalo fired again, the shell penetrating the enemy tank''s armor and exploding inside. The enemy tank staggered, its leg blown off, and it fell to the ground, enemy soldiers inside screaming in panic.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a decoy to intimidate us! Keep firing!¡± Hazel shouted, rallying her crew.

    The Buffalo''s gunner unleashed a barrage of fire, targeting the enemy''s weak points with precision. One by one, enemy strongholds crumbled under the relentless assault.

    As the Buffalo charged forward, enemy soldiers scattered, some still firing back in desperation. The chaos of battle surrounded them, but the Buffalo pressed on, its armor deflecting bullets like raindrops.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stop!¡± Hazel urged, her voice rising above the din.

    The tank continued its advance, crushing everything in its path. The enemy artillery fired back, but the Buffalo¡¯s thick armor absorbed the blows. Hazel could feel the tension in the air, the stakes rising with every passing moment.

    Hazel¡¯s voice crackled over the intercom. ¡°Enemy at 3 o¡¯clock! Reload AP rounds!¡± The crew scrambled to obey, their movements practiced and efficient. Hazel peered through her scope, spotting a massive enemy tank, a walking fortress of metal, lumbering towards them.

    ¡°Beautiful flame,¡± Hazel remarked, watching as the enemy tank was engulfed in fire.

    As the dust settled, it seemed the enemy had finally stopped firing. The battlefield lay in ruins, a testament to the ferocity of the fight. Hazel took a deep breath, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, knowing that this was just the beginning of their advance.

    Yu peered through her scope, the battlefield unfolding before her like a grim tapestry. The smoke began to clear, revealing an enemy tank engulfed in flames. Suddenly, the enemy infantry ceased their fire, and an eerie silence settled over the chaos. The scarred man, a seasoned veteran, barked orders to his crew to reload and prepare the grenade launcher.

    ¡°Cover me!¡± he shouted, pulling himself out of the tank and landing with a thud behind a bush. He began lobbing grenades at the enemy infantry, his men quickly joining the fray.

    Yu remained focused, scanning the enemy line. Just then, she spotted an enemy soldier aiming a gun directly at her. ¡°Patrick! Sniper position! Seven o''clock, behind the bush!¡± she called out, her voice steady despite the tension.

    Patrick, quick to respond, signaled his men. They aimed their rifles at the designated spot, unleashing a torrent of bullets that ripped through the air. The cacophony of gunfire sent the enemy into a panic, but their chaos was abruptly silenced by the explosion of a grenade. Bodies fell lifelessly to the ground.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Hazel Yawn remarked, unimpressed. ¡°That was almost perfect.¡± her vr training simulation in area 51 is indeed more brutal. make her feel detach with whole thing

    As the dust settled, the battlefield revealed its grim aftermath. The enemy was either dead or incapacitated, and the only sounds were the crackling of flames and the distant moans of the wounded. Yu turned her scope toward the remaining enemy soldiers, crawling toward their trench, desperate for cover.

    ¡°Finish them, Yu,¡± Hazel commanded,

    Yu hesitated, as second commander of tank, a flicker of doubt crossing her mind. She felt the weight of the order, but she nodded, steeling herself. ¡°Scar man, tell your men to aim at the enemy soldiers. Finish them.¡±

    The scar man shouted instructions, and his crew quickly trained their rifles on the injured foes. One by one, the enemy soldiers were dispatched with merciless precision, each shot a finality that echoed across the battlefield.

    ¡°Beautiful,¡± Hazel said, savoring the victory. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get that rail finished. We need to keep the Buffalo moving, soldiers!¡±

    As the crew sprang into action, repairing the tank and laying down tracks, Hazel took a moment to enjoy a chocolate bar, his eyes scanning the quiet terrain.

    ¡°See anything, girl?¡± he asked Yu, who was still peering through her scope.

    Yu took a deep breath. ¡°No. Just the dead bodies and corpses in the field.¡± she whispered, a strange smile playing on her lips.

    ¡°I see,¡± Hazel replied, a hint of gravity in her voice. ¡°We¡¯ll see many more if we reach Europe.¡±

    Suddenly, Yu¡¯s eyes flared with determination. ¡°Yes. We¡¯ll get rid of them if they resist. Justice must be served in Europe. No one will stop our march.¡± yu stare at the dead officer body who still hold the sword in ground  and say "They won''t be bothering anyone anymore"

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Hazel agreed, munching on her chocolate.

    Just then, Yu shouted, ¡°Enemies incoming from afar!¡± She pointed her scope in the direction of a massive column of enemy infantry, armed and advancing slowly but surely.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Hazel said, her voice steady as he calculated the coordinates for a cannon shot. ¡°They¡¯re dumber than I thought.¡±

    The scar man relayed the coordinates to his gunner, who prepared to fire. ¡°Fire!¡± came the command, and a single cannonball soared through the air, striking the heart of the enemy column. The explosion was devastating, scattering the enemy troops in all directions.

    ¡°Beautiful... Keep firing!¡± Hazel urged, watching as the chaos unfolded.

    The enemy commander, realizing the dire situation, rallied his troops, waving his sword and shouting orders. its was a last stand for them in the region,

    But Hazel merely chuckled, ¡°Let him gather his primitive men in line. We¡¯ll shoot them again.¡±

    As the commander attempted to regroup his men, Hazel prepared for another strike. ¡°Alright, kill them. That¡¯s what mercy looks like.¡±

    Yu aimed at the commander, her finger hovering over the trigger. But suddenly, she hesitated, her conscience battling with her orders.despite the context of war, seeing the enemy without proper equiment to fight back with equal strenght is too much for yu ¡°I can¡¯t!¡± she shouted, frustration evident in her voice.

    ¡°Fool,¡± Hazel muttered, taking the gunner position himself. sHe fired with deadly accuracy, the commander falling to the ground, his troops thrown into disarray.

    Hazel continued firing until the last enemy soldier fled, a victorious grin spreading across her face. The battlefield was theirs, the Buffalo crew standing tall amidst the wreckage, exhausted but unbroken.

    Hazel sat inside the tank, a frown creasing her brow as he pondered the looming threat of the True Horde. ¡°Is it really the True Horde?¡± she muttered, disbelief lacing his voice. she still remember how they are just blitzkrieg various warlord in region and defeat flying dragon like a nothing, but now they are like cartoon villains

    Yu, slumped in her seat, shrugged her shoulders, fatigue evident in her posture. ¡°They¡¯re just a big group of primitive men with guns and bayonets,¡± she replied, her voice heavy with exhaustion. ¡°But don¡¯t let their looks fool you. They¡¯re still dangerous. I mean, did you see what their cannon did to ours? Their cannonballs can pierce almost anything. If they had more time and materials, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if they made something even stronger.¡±

    Hazel sighed, the weight of their situation settling on her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m afraid our journey is going to be very long,¡± she said, glancing out at the desolate landscape.

    Yu leaned back, her gaze drifting to the sky, where the stars twinkled like distant memories. ¡°Yeah, I think we need to stop and make camp here. We should rest. We don¡¯t know what tomorrow will bring.¡± She yawned, the sound echoing her weariness.

    ¡°I swear, alam,¡± Hazel mumbled as she settled in for the night, ¡°someday I will find you and destroy you.¡± With that, she closed his eyes, the promise hanging in the air like a challenge waiting to be met.

    A few days later, in a bustling workshop of the Blood Khaganate, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation as new volunteers from the Red Nation arrived. Yu, perched on a crate, giggled as she spotted a newcomer.

    ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re the new shield meat?¡± she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

    ¡°my Name¡¯s Patrick,¡± patrick then greet the volunteer, tipping his hat with a flourish, his left hand resting on the scabbard at his side. ¡°Welcome to the team!¡±

    Panji stepped forward, a faint smile playing on his lips, his thin face partially obscured by shadow.

    ¡°Welcome, gentlemen,¡± the General announced, breaking the tension. ¡°Today, we¡¯re gearing up for a big push. With our new tank, we aim to defeat the True Horde on their home turf in Central Asia. But first, we need to train¡ªinfantry and tanks must work together.¡±

    Panji listened intently, his expression neutral but alert. He understood the weight of the General¡¯s words, the importance of his role in supporting the tanks and his men.

    ¡°Without further ado, let¡¯s get started. Lieutenant Panji, I hope you¡¯re ready to familiarize yourself with this kind of warfare. Central Asia will be full of surprises compared to Africa or North America. You¡¯ll be leading the infantry tasked with supporting the tanks,¡± the General continued.

    Panji nodded, absorbing the information. He kept his thoughts to himself, his demeanor calm and serious, ready to face the challenges ahead.

    ¡°Alright, for training, we¡¯ll smash a small rebel settlement,¡± the General said with a hint of excitement, drawing his sword and rallying the troops. ¡°Let¡¯s go get them!¡±

    As the army began to march, the training exercise unfolded. Panji led the infantry support troops into the field, following closely behind the rumbling tanks. His quiet confidence shone through as he provided cover fire, his tactical prowess evident in every move.

    The rebels put up a fierce resistance, but the combined firepower of the tanks and infantry proved overwhelming. Panji orchestrated the assault with precision, his orders sharp and clear. The rebels, despite their bravery, were no match for the well-coordinated attack.

    Mid-October 2404. The air in the barracks was crisp with the approaching winter. Panji sat sharpening his blade, the rhythmic scrape of metal on stone filling the quiet room. He had just returned from a successful campaign against rebel groups in Manchuria, his reputation growing with each victory. then newcomer approached, a Hazel with short, cropped hair and a confident stride and stil wearing her body suit to appear as man.

    ¡°Hey, so you¡¯re the rising star officer?¡± hazel a, a hint of admiration in her voice.

    Panji smiled, ¡°Yeah, that would be me. What can I do for you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Hazel, a mayor and part of the Blood Khaganate. I heard you¡¯re climbing the ranks quickly,¡± she replied.

    ¡°Yes, I am. But I have to admit, I¡¯ve had the help of some strong commanders. I¡¯m just an ordinary officer who makes decisions quickly,¡± Panji said, his smile genuine.

    ¡°I see¡­ Well, like six months ago, I was still a sergeant cannon fodder, and now I¡¯m a mayor. Do you think they¡¯re ranking us too fast?¡± Hazel asked,

    Panji chuckled lightly, ¡°I can¡¯t say it¡¯s too fast, but yes, we¡¯re both ranked highly. Now, why are you meeting me?¡±

    ¡°I just wanted to say hi and¡­ let¡¯s work together without any dirty moves against each other,¡± Hazel suggested, extending her hand.

    Panji shook it firmly, ¡°I agree. It¡¯s important for both of us to collaborate. I don¡¯t have any problem with you.¡±

    ¡°So, what¡¯s your story, man?¡± Hazel inquired,

    ¡°Nothing much¡­ just a life full of fighting, battles, and loss,¡± Panji replied, his gaze drifting to the floor.

    ¡°Do we all?¡± Hazel mused. ¡°But do you have a particular reason for volunteering in this land? I mean, of course, our leader wants it, but do you have something personal?¡±

    Panji hesitated, ¡°I have a personal reason¡­ but I don¡¯t really wish to talk about it.¡±

    Hazel took a sip of coffee, nodding in understanding. ¡°So, the two of us should keep in touch, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll be defending the front,¡± Panji affirmed, a determined look in his eyes.

    ¡°Good luck out there,¡± Hazel said, a smile breaking across her face.

    ¡°Farewell!¡± Panji replied, his own smile lingering as he prepared for the challenges ahead.

 Chapter 45 fire on snow

    General Sima, a bald man with a crimson cloak and a thin mustache, stood atop the ruins of Karakorum. The remaining high-ranking officers of the Khaganate stood before him, their numbers greatly reduced but their spirits high.

    "Brothers and sisters," he boomed, his voice echoing across the ancient city. "We stand on sacred ground, where our ancestors, led by Genghis Khan, built an empire that spanned the world. For too long, we''ve been held down. But today, we reclaim our destiny!

    The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices rising like a tempest. Sima''s heart swelled with pride as he saw the fire in their eyes. "Together, we will ride forth, a tide of fury and honor! We will forge alliances, crush our enemies, and build an empire that will echo through the ages! The world will remember our names, and they will know that the Blood Khaganate has returned!"

    With a final flourish, he raised his sword high, the blade glinting in the fading light. "For glory! For honor! For the Blood Khaganate! Let us ride into history and claim our rightful place as the rulers of the world!"

    Hazel and the other members of the Bastard Brigade watched in awe as the Khaganate showcased their culture. They witnessed breathtaking horse riding acrobatics, an eagle festival, and even a thrilling competition that resembled armored vehicle racing with shooting targets. Hazel was captivated, deeply intrigued by the Khaganate''s unique blend of tradition and modernity.

    Hazel became increasingly invested in the culture of the Blood Khaganate, observing their daily rituals from dawn until dusk. Each morning, they would pray toward the rising sun, followed by a sermon from their priest. Sometimes the messages were uplifting, celebrating life, but other times they took a darker turn, encouraging a detachment from their enemies, likening them to trees that needed to be chopped down.

    In the mornings, the women prepared meals for the men heading off to war, much like in the Red Nation, where domestic duties fell primarily to them. They tended to the children, herded livestock, and managed household tasks. Despite their close ties to the Red Nation, there was an underlying fear of annexation, which would mean a complete separation of men and women under Red Nation control.

    they dont wanna the red nation ceasar religion convuluded to their faith. its was just european forign gods. its alien for them.

    and each meal is created by love of their women. not a by machine. espencially the idea of zion ¡°farm¡± is too disconected to their view

    Later, Hazel arrived in a newly conquered territory that once belonged to the True Horde. She witnessed prisoners lined up, while Khaganate officers engaged in a twisted game to see who could execute them the fastest with arrows.

    Women were gathered in tents, expected to entertain the soldiers, while children were separated from their parents. These children were viewed as future assets for the Khaganate, destined to be trained and indoctrinated to fight as warriors, participating in mock battles and the "Monastery of War" to foster camaraderie, loyalty, and a sense of purpose.

    Hazel, who had faced a tough life since childhood, began to feel the effects of the Khaganate culture and its warrior ethos. The normalization of violence started to corrupt her soul. Meanwhile, a new army group emerged, a mix of Red Nation mercenaries and Khaganate warriors, calling themselves the Red Army. They drew inspiration from the old Soviet army that fought the Nazis in World War II, viewing the True Horde and other opposing warlords as subhuman. For them, this conflict was framed as a holy war.

    In late October 2404, the workshop in Vladivostok buzzed with activity as technicians worked diligently on a fleet of Buffalo tanks, transforming them into formidable land battleships. Thick armor plates were being fitted, giving the tanks an imposing presence.

    Hazel inspected the scars on her own tank, a frown creasing her brow. ¡°We need new weapons to deal with those pesky saboteurs attacking us at close range,¡± she muttered, frustration evident in her voice.

    Nearby, a team of weapon technicians, clad in thick white masks and protective gear, were busy constructing an automatic revolver pistol designed to fire musket-sized ammunition, a practical choice for the chaotic battlefield.

    ¡°Can I request a flamethrower attachment?¡± Hazel asked, her eyes lighting up at the thought.

    The technicians exchanged glances and nodded. ¡°Yes, we can build that attachment for you. But you need to be careful. Use the flamethrowers against the enemy only at short distances,¡± one cautioned, handing Hazel a pamphlet filled with warnings about the dangers of flamethrowers, including a stern note against using them on civilians.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. A 10-40 meter range? That¡¯s plenty. Our machine gun has a blind spot,¡± Hazel replied confidently.

    The technician raised an eyebrow, surprised. ¡°You want two flamethrowers attached to the sides of the tank?¡±

    ¡°Of course! They surround us from multiple directions. Two flamethrowers are the answer,¡± Hazel insisted.

    ¡°Alright, if you say so,¡± the technician shrugged, turning to his crew. ¡°Let¡¯s build two flamethrowers for the tank. Make them simple and easy to use.¡±

    As the technicians began assembling the flamethrowers, Hazel¡¯s excitement grew. ¡°Good. I want this to be a priority. I want to burn someone with that next week!¡±

    ¡°Get those flamethrowers done as soon as possible! It¡¯s our highest priority right now!¡± the technician shouted to his crew, urgency in his voice.

    A week later, the new buffalo tank rolled out, equipped with its fiery attachments.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    As the tank cruised forward, Yu stood near the flamethrowers, ready to give the order. The crew was tense, checking their weapons and scanning the surroundings for any signs of enemy infantry.

    Hazel observed from the cupola, spotting a lone hut on the flat terrain.  ¡°Let¡¯s try our new gun,¡± she said,

    Yu raised her voice to the crew. ¡°All crew ready. On my signal, we will fire both flamethrowers at the target. In five seconds, we will fire the flamethrowers.¡±

    The crew acknowledged her command, their anticipation palpable. As the tank closed in on the target, Hazel urged, ¡°Don¡¯t shoot our cannon. Let¡¯s use our flames instead. Keep moving forward!¡±

    ¡°Ready¡­ 3¡­ 2¡­ 1¡­ GO!¡± Yu shouted, and both flamethrowers unleashed a torrent of fire toward the target.

    ¡°Oh my Gott¡­ that is well-cooked!¡± Hazel exclaimed, watching as the flames engulfed the area, sending enemy infantry scrambling in panic.

    ¡°Mercy kill them with the machine gun!¡± she ordered, as the crew opened fire on the burning soldiers, some of whom were still trying to fight back.

    Yu felt a pang of pity for the wounded, but her anger flared when she saw them shooting at the tank. ¡°Stupid!¡± she shouted, before jumping out to finish them off.

    ¡°Why bother going outside to kill them, orange hair?¡± Hazel called out, surprised to see her outside the tank.

    ¡°I feel pity and anger at the same time. It¡¯s so stupid! They don¡¯t realize their musket balls bounce off our armor!¡± Yu replied, frustration evident in her voice.

    ¡°Yeah, they don¡¯t stand a chance. Let¡¯s finish this war quickly!¡± Hazel laughed,

    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s fire the main gun,¡± Yu said, switching the lever to control the tank¡¯s main gun.

    As the tank continued its advance, the main gun fired a massive shell toward the enemy line, causing chaos among the remaining soldiers.

    ¡°Alright, I see their trench at 400 meters. Let¡¯s bury them alive!¡± Hazel declared,

    Yu nodded, her resolve matching his. ¡°Yeah, we will bury them alive.¡± She adjusted the tank¡¯s speed, ready to charge forward.

    As grenades and satchel charges exploded near the tank, the buffalo tank remained steady, its thick armor absorbing the blasts. The enemy infantry, desperate and reckless, attempted to climb onto the tank, throwing Molotov cocktails in a last-ditch effort to destroy it.

    But the buffalo tank pressed on, reaching the enemy trench, ready to unleash its fiery wrath.

    As the tank rumbled forward, Hazel leaned out of the cupola, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°Alright, do the dance!¡± he called out, his voice filled with excitement.

    ¡°DANCE!¡± Yu shouted to the crew, her enthusiasm infectious. The crew sprang into action, pushing the lever to rev the tank¡¯s engine to full speed. With a flick of her wrist, Yu pulled the lever controlling the flamethrowers. Flames erupted from both sides of the tank, a rain of fire that engulfed the trench ahead, creating a fiery spectacle that stretched for forty meters.

    ¡°I hope someone is recording us,¡± Hazel mused, a twinkle in her eye. ¡°Because this is damn heroic!¡±

    Yu laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ¡°It is heroic! Who knows, maybe we¡¯ll be remembered as legends. Or villains. But either way, we have a job to do.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, another tank victory!¡± Hazel exclaimed, popping out of the tank to survey the scene. He spotted friendly infantry clearing the trench. ¡°Loot only what¡¯s necessary, guys! Don¡¯t let those rusty weapons get in our way... and I suggest you grab those trench coats¡ªwinter is coming!¡±

    The infantry chuckled at his orders, quickly getting to work. They began looting the trench, gathering weapons and supplies, while also taking Hazel¡¯s advice to snag warm clothing. Just then, a small group of enemy survivors, who had managed to hide from the tank¡¯s onslaught, emerged with their hands raised in surrender.

    ¡°More men mean more food,¡± Hazel said with a smirk. ¡°Order the prisoners to help us with our baggage instead!¡±

    Laughter erupted among the friendly infantry as they took the captured enemy¡¯s weapons and belongings, forcing them to carry the heavy loads. The sight of the enemy soldiers sweating and struggling under the weight was almost comical.

    As October rolled in, the Red Nation army began its advance toward Ulaanbaatar, the snow starting to fall with their arrival. The temperature plummeted, making movement sluggish and cumbersome. Hazel frowned as he observed the icy landscape through his scope.

    ¡°Our main weakness is our movement,¡± she noted, ¡°but so far, there¡¯s only been small enemy resistance. I wonder where the main bulk of the enemy is hiding.¡±

    From the reports, it seemed the enemy was biding their time, likely waiting in the forest for a chance to strike.

    ¡°What does our supreme leader want?¡± Hazel pondered aloud. ¡°Do we keep moving in winter, or do we wait until spring?¡±

    It was a tough call. The harsh winter conditions made it difficult to advance, but the supreme leader had ordered them to keep pushing forward, determined to keep the enemy on their toes.

    ¡°Alright, keep moving,¡± Hazel commanded. ¡°We¡¯ll only take a small break in the city before we push on again.¡±

    As the Red army continued its march, they faced the challenges of the winter landscape. The steppes and mountains were blanketed in pristine snow, creating a breathtaking yet treacherous environment. Frozen rivers glistened under the pale sun, and the vibrant colors of the winter sky contrasted sharply with the white landscape.

    ¡°Hey, Yu,¡± Hazel called, breaking the silence as she sipped her hot chocolate. ¡°What¡¯s your backstory? Why does a woman like you become a tanker?¡±

    Yu chuckled lightly. ¡°I was an ex-windup girl in New York. I escaped, but then I was captured by the windup agency. They offered me a deal: work for them for two years, and I¡¯d earn my freedom. But I refused. I wanted to be free, so they sold me to someone else. Eventually, I was rescued by the Red Nation army.¡±

    Hazel blinked in surprise. ¡°So, you¡¯re kind of half-human?¡±

    Yu smiled softly. ¡°In a way, yes. I¡¯m modified, but I still have my personality, my freedom, my feelings. It¡¯s just my body that¡¯s been changed.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Hazel replied, intrigued. ¡°And what do you mean by rescued? Was it like conscription?¡±

    ¡°It was almost like conscription,¡± Yu admitted. ¡°But I¡¯m grateful for it. The Red Nation army saved me from a horrible life as a windup girl.¡±

    Hazel nodded, understanding the weight of her words. ¡°Some people seem to enjoy this campaign, though.¡±

    Yu¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°You could say it¡¯s exciting, but for me, it¡¯s about bringing justice to those suffering under the True Horde¡¯s rule. We must succeed at any cost.¡±

    ¡°What have they told you about the True Horde?¡± Hazel asked, curiosity piqued.

    Yu took a deep breath, her gaze steady. ¡°They¡¯re brutal, ruthless barbarians who want to rule everything. They believe their rule is just, but they don¡¯t understand what justice truly means. They take innocent people as slaves and force them to serve.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what we¡¯ve been told,¡± Hazel said, her tone contemplative. ¡°But you know, the reason I volunteered here is more personal.¡±

    ¡°Personal?¡± Yu raised an eyebrow. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°I was an ex-gang member of the Flying Dragons in Hong Kong. The True Horde destroyed my home... and my lover,¡± she confessed, her voice heavy with emotion.

    Yu¡¯s expression softened. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Hazel replied, shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s almost karma, I guess. But now, I don¡¯t have anything else to do except this.¡±

    Yu smiled, raising her cup of coffee, which was spiked with liquor. ¡°Now this war has become your personal mission, hasn¡¯t it? We¡¯re all in this together, fighting the True Horde until our last breath!¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t drink coffee with alcohol, you maniac,¡± Hazel warned, shaking her head with a chuckle.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± Yu insisted, her tone slightly slurred as she took another big sip. ¡°The mix of coffee and liquor is perfect!¡±

    ¡°Crazy girl,¡± Hazel laughed, finishing her drink as they continued their march into the winter landscape.

    As Yu drained the last of her coffee, a playful grin spread across her face, her cheeks slightly flushed from the liquor mixed in. She looked at Hazel with a sparkle in her eye, her demeanor light and carefree despite the grim circumstances surrounding them.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s next?¡± she asked, her voice laced with curiosity. ¡°Are we going to face the True Horde¡¯s main force now, or are we waiting for spring to come?¡±

    Hazel sighed, her expression serious. ¡°Our superiors told us to keep moving. We don¡¯t have the option to wait. What concerns me most is our supply line. We¡¯re sluggish, and we¡¯re deep in enemy territory.¡±

    Yu nodded, her smile fading slightly as the weight of his words sank in. ¡°Oh... that¡¯s a serious issue. The supply line is crucial. It must be protected so the soldiers have enough food and ammunition. That¡¯s what I worry about the most when we march into enemy land. It¡¯s like walking into a lion¡¯s den with a steak tied around our necks.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Hazel replied, popping her head out of the tank to survey the scene. sHe watched as Red Army infantry struggled to clear the road with shovels and bulldozers, their progress painfully slow. ¡°We¡¯re damn slow.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we¡¯re bloody slow,¡± Yu agreed, taking another sip from her coffee, the warmth of the liquor giving her a momentary sense of comfort. ¡°And that¡¯s what we have to face in this war. Every moment counts, and our sluggish movement will only delay our victory.¡±

    With a shared understanding of the challenges ahead, they both steeled themselves for the fight to come, knowing that the road would be fraught with danger and uncertainty.

 Chapter 46 winter is coming

    In early September 2404, the West Taiga lay shrouded in a tranquil stillness, the kind that makes you feel as if time itself has paused. Alam surveyed the scene around him, noting the peaceful slumber of his companions. Not a soul stirred; even the dogs nearby were curled up, breathing softly in their dreams. The air was crisp and cool, a refreshing embrace

    Alam stepped outside, seeking warmth by the flickering flames of the fireplace. The sun began its ascent, casting a golden hue over the landscape, and slowly, the camp came to life. People began to wake, some stretching languidly, others still lost in the comfort of sleep, gazing dreamily at the sky.

    ¡°There is always the darkest before dawn,¡± Alam yawned ¡°Hnm,¡±, taking in the beauty of the morning.

    Just then, a figure approached, cloaked in a hood that obscured his features. He walked slowly, his gaze fixed on the ground , seemingly lost in thought. After a moment, he paused, stretched his arms, and took a deep breath before speaking in a soft, gentle tone.

    ¡°Morning, everyone. It¡¯s a really beautiful morning today, don¡¯t you agree?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, gott bless,¡± Alam replied, feeling the warmth of camaraderie.

    The man continued, his voice soothing as he admired the clear sky. ¡°The breeze is refreshing.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s almost September,¡± Alam added, nodding in agreement.

    The man turned to Alam, his eyes kind and inviting. ¡°Excuse me, stranger, but would you like me to guide you around this encampment? Or would you prefer to stay here and relax?¡±

    ¡°Oh, alright, sure. Guide me around,¡± Alam said, intrigued.

    ¡°Okay. First, we should meet the others here in the encampment.¡± The man gestured, pointing in a direction before setting off at a leisurely pace, as if savoring every moment.

    As they walked, Alam observed the people around them, some engaged in games, others simply enjoying the morning. The man¡¯s pace was unhurried, embodying the calm of the morning.

    ¡°Let¡¯s walk that way,¡± he said, leading Alam toward a group sitting in a circle, their laughter mingling with the morning air.

    ¡°Ehem. Yeah sure,¡± Alam replied, feeling a sense of ease in the man¡¯s presence.

    Upon reaching the circle, the man addressed the group, his voice still soft and gentle. They listened intently, nodding and smiling in response.

    Alam stood back, observing the interactions with curiosity. The man turned to him, finally noticing his presence. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for not introducing myself. My name is Abubakar, a guardian of this encampment. May I know your name?¡±

    ¡°I see, I¡¯m Alam,¡± he replied,

    ¡°It¡¯s a great pleasure to meet you, Alam. You might wonder why I introduce myself as a guardian. Here, we all look out for each other. One takes the role of guardian while others become hunters, gatherers, or traders. Regardless of our roles, we are all guardians of one another.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± Alam nodded,

    ¡°May I ask you something?¡± Abubakar inquired, his tone shifting to one of concern.

    ¡°What?¡± Alam asked, intrigued.

    ¡°You seemed drowsy earlier, and it made me worry. Is everything okay? You don¡¯t need to worry about anything here. If there¡¯s anything you need, please don¡¯t hesitate to ask.¡±

    ¡°I... I don¡¯t worry about this place. I¡¯m worried about... other places,¡± Alam admitted, his voice trailing off.

    Abubakar¡¯s expression softened. ¡°Oh, I see. May I ask what place that is? What troubles you?¡±

    ¡°Well, I think you already know my story, right? The fisherman dude and Nalin probably told everyone...¡± Alam began, but Abubakar shook his head.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t know anything about your history. All I know is that you got injured in the river and that you¡¯re a traveler from the east. That¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°I see. Well, I lost contact. My friends probably think I¡¯m dead, which is why I need to wait for a caravan trader to help me contact them again,¡± Alam explained.

    Abubakar¡¯s eyes held sympathy. ¡°So, you have friends far away?¡±

    ¡°Europe, parts of Asia,¡± Alam confirmed.

    ¡°A long journey,¡± Abubakar observed. He paused, studying Alam. ¡°Is it¡­ a personal matter?¡±

    Alam chuckled lightly. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a business matter. An international one.¡±

    Abubakar nodded slowly. ¡°Trade, perhaps? Ensuring safe passage?¡±

    ¡°Something like that,¡± Alam replied, carefully avoiding specifics. ¡°Do you know who rules this area now?¡±

    Abubakar hesitated, then spoke cautiously. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a complicated question. There are whispers¡­ some call him a tyrant, others a savior.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Alam said. ¡°Well, I need to contact my¡­ associates. I heard caravans come through here.¡±

    ¡°Three times a month, usually. The next one should be here next week,¡± Abubakar confirmed. ¡°The last one was almost two months ago.¡±

    ¡°Two months?¡± Alam muttered. ¡°I hope they come next week¡­¡±

    ¡°They will,¡± Abubakar reassured him. ¡°But¡­ you seem worried. Is everything alright with your¡­ business?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m responsible for a lot of people,¡± Alam admitted. ¡°My absence¡­ it¡¯s not ideal.¡±

    ¡°A leader, then,¡± Abubakar said, his gaze steady. ¡°It must be difficult to be away for so long.¡±

    ¡°It is what it is,¡± Alam replied, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°What do people do around here?¡±

    Abubakar shook his head. ¡°Simple things. Foraging, hunting. We call this place West Taiga Survival. We don¡¯t use money.¡±

    ¡°Taiga Survival? Sounds like a boot camp or something,¡± Alam joked.

    Abubakar laughed softly. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong about that. Everything here feels like survival training. We gather food, make fire, and even sleep outside to prepare for anything. But on the other hand, this place is quite comfortable, and the people here are friendly.¡±

    ¡°How many people are here?¡± Alam asked.

    Abubakar took a moment to count. ¡°There are roughly about 25 people in this encampment, but there are also many who stay outside, almost reaching 50. They hunt or forage.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s quite a lot, actually. Are most people here war refugees or natives?¡± Alam inquired.

    Abubakar smiled slightly. ¡°About half of us are war refugees, while the other half are natives. We all have different backgrounds, but we manage to live together. This camp is like a small community; we all live and work together.¡±

    Alam yawned, feeling the weight of fatigue. ¡°Sure, man.¡±

    Noticing Alam¡¯s yawn, Abubakar tilted his head curiously. ¡°Are you sleepy?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I always feel sleepy if nothing happens,¡± Alam admitted.

    Abubakar sighed, then asked, ¡°May I ask you a personal question?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Alam replied, intrigued.

    Abubakar hesitated but finally spoke. ¡°Did the fisherman give you any medicine or food to regain your strength?¡±Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°Yeah, he gave me medicine on the first day, and his adoptive daughter provided food,¡± Alam explained.

    ¡°That was quite nice of him. What kind of medicine did he give you? We might have something similar in our medicine storage,¡± Abubakar said.

    ¡°Oh, do you have a painkiller?¡± Alam asked.

    Abubakar thought for a moment. ¡°I think we have something like that. But why do you need a painkiller? Do you feel any pain now?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my wound still hurts when I walk,¡± Alam replied,

    ¡°Oh, I see. You still feel pain in your wound? How about I check it?¡± Abubakar offered, concern evident in his voice.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Alam said, revealing the bullet scar on his hip. ¡°It¡¯s dry now, but the pain is still there.¡±

    Abubakar examined the wound, his expression serious. ¡°You¡¯re right; this bullet wound seems dry but still causes pain. Let me try something, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±

    ¡°What is that?¡± Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Abubakar pulled a bottle from his leather bag. ¡°Can I apply this salve to your wound? It¡¯s made from wild herbs and has medicinal properties to treat your wound and reduce pain. Is that okay?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Alam agreed.

    Abubakar smiled, relieved. He applied a thick layer of the salve to Alam¡¯s wound. ¡°Now, this will reduce your pain. We need to wait for it to take effect. Can we wait a few minutes?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure. I think it¡¯s better if I head back to the tent and rest,¡± Alam suggested, feeling the fatigue wash over him.

    Abubakar smiled softly, sharing Alam''s sentiment. ¡°Yes, good idea. You can head back to the tent and rest a bit. I¡¯ll stay here to make sure no one interrupts you. Let¡¯s meet back under the big tree once the salve takes effect, okay?¡±

    A few hours later, as the afternoon sun cast a warm glow, Nalin delivered Alam¡¯s meal.

    ¡°Hey girl, let me wash my clothes,¡± he said,

    Nalin looked surprised but quickly regained her composure. ¡°O-oh, sure! Wait a minute; let me get you some water first.¡± She hurried off, returning shortly with a bucket of water.

    ¡°Thanks! By the way, I haven¡¯t seen your... father figure since I got here. Where is he now?¡± Alam asked, curious.

    Nalin hesitated, her tone softening. ¡°Um, he¡¯s currently hunting in the forest. He¡¯s expected back after his trip.¡±

    ¡°What''s his name again?¡± Alam pressed.

    Nalin¡¯s brow furrowed as she thought. ¡°I think his name is Yordan. It¡¯s kind of weird for me because I never call him ¡®father.¡¯ I usually call him ¡®Big Bear.¡¯¡±

    Alam chuckled. ¡°A bear, huh? Well, I thought I might just take his tent since he never comes back. Do hunting trips usually take several days?¡±

    Nalin¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You¡¯re taking someone¡¯s tent? That¡¯s kind of weird! But to answer your question, normally, a hunting trip lasts a couple of days. I¡¯ve heard him mention hunting big beasts, but I never really paid attention to that stuff.¡±

    ¡°Hmm... I noticed you like to copy the way I talk, using ¡®kinda weird¡¯ a lot,¡± Alam teased.

    Nalin blushed slightly. ¡°That¡¯s probably true. I guess I¡¯m subconsciously mimicking you. It¡¯s not weird, right? Just kind of funny.¡± She chuckled softly.

    ¡°I hope I¡¯m not a bad influence on a 16-year-old girl,¡± Alam said, raising an eyebrow.

    Nalin laughed. ¡°you¡¯re not a bad influence at all. I¡¯m old enough to not be swayed by bad things.¡± She lowered her hand, a playful glint in her eyes.

    ¡°Right... If the caravan comes, I¡¯ll follow them to contact my friend in the city. Will you join me?¡± Alam asked, gauging her reaction.

    Nalin hesitated, then smiled. ¡°Hmm, leaving this place sounds like a big decision, but I think I¡¯ll join you. This place is getting kind of boring, and it¡¯s time for me to leave too.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? It¡¯s not like you can come back easily. But yes, it¡¯s a big decision,¡± Alam cautioned.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure! This decision is more exciting than staying in this dull place. I don¡¯t really have anything left that would make me want to come back. Let¡¯s make this big decision together!¡± Nalin exclaimed,

    Alam smirked. ¡°I¡¯ve lived longer than you, but I don¡¯t think this place is boring. It¡¯s just perhaps less flashy for teenagers like you.¡±

    Nalin laughed again. ¡°That¡¯s probably true. This place is peaceful but also pretty boring. When you grow up here, it feels dull. But yes, you do live longer than me; I¡¯ll give you that.¡±

    ¡°My hands feel weird from doing nothing for days. I need a small task to keep them occupied,¡± Alam admitted.

    Nalin¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Well, I do have a small errand for you! I need you to pick some flowers near the creek. Can you get me as many as you can before the sun sets?¡±

    ¡°Is the place far? I still can¡¯t walk too far,¡± Alam replied, a hint of concern in his voice.

    Nalin laughed. ¡°No worries! It¡¯s actually quite near, just a few minutes away by the creek.¡±

    ¡°Okay then, lead the way,¡± Alam said, following her.

    Nalin guided him to the small creek, pointing out the flowers. ¡°These are the ones I want you to pick. They¡¯re beautiful and easy to find. Just be careful when you pick them, okay?¡±

    ¡°Why pick these flowers? Why not just let them grow?¡± Alam asked, genuinely curious.

    Nalin chuckled. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s simple! These flowers have healing properties. They help relieve pain, reduce fevers, and fatigue. I use them to ease body aches after hunting.¡±

    ¡°Cool! What should I pick? Just the flower part, or everything?¡± Alam inquired.

    Nalin laughed again. ¡°Just the flower part! You can pick the whole flower or just the petals; it¡¯s up to you. But yes, just the flower part and put it in this basket.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± Alam said, starting to gather the flowers nearby.

    Nalin watched Alam as he began to gather the flowers, her curiosity evident in the playful glint in her eyes. ¡°Just making sure you know which flower to pick, right? There are a few different kinds around here. You should only choose the ones with bright colors, beautiful petals, and long stems.¡±

    Alam grinned, ¡°I know the calendula already. The yellowish color is pretty recognizable.¡±

    Her smile widened at his confidence. ¡°Okay, good to know you can recognize that flower easily. Just go ahead and pick as many as you can. When you¡¯re tired, you can come back and relax.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alam replied, settling down on the ground after gathering some flowers.

    Nalin¡¯s concern flickered across her face as she noticed him lying down. ¡°Okay, take your time. Just don¡¯t fall asleep, alright?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t¡­¡± Alam mumbled, his eyes already drifting shut.

    Nalin smiled softly, watching him relax. She walked over and sat beside him, leaning back to gaze at the sky as the sun began to set. ¡°Ah, you finally relaxed, huh? You¡¯re already tired from just a little work. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be here when you wake up.¡±

    ¡°Hey, let me help you cook this time,¡± Alam said, suddenly alert.

    Nalin lifted her head, her eyes sparkling with interest. ¡°Oh? You want to help me cook?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he affirmed.

    Her amusement was palpable. ¡°Okay, but you have to do exactly what I say. No improvising unless I tell you to, alright?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Alam replied, a grin spreading across his face.

    Nalin stood up, taking his hand to pull him up beside her. ¡°First, we need to gather all the ingredients for cooking and prepare the equipment. Let¡¯s go find what we need, shall we?¡±

    ¡°Sure¡­¡± Alam agreed, following her lead.

    As they walked, Nalin asked, ¡°So, what sounds good for dinner? Anything you¡¯re craving?¡±

    ¡°Something simple. Soup and meat, like usual,¡± Alam suggested.

    Nalin grinned. ¡°The usual, huh? We could do that, or¡­ how about something a little more interesting? We¡¯ve got moose, lamb, or even deer.¡±

    ¡°Deer sounds good,¡± Alam decided. ¡°You guys have a lot of variety here.¡±

    ¡°We do alright,¡± Nalin said. ¡°We hunt for most of it ourselves. Keeps the caravans from visiting too often.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense,¡± Alam replied. ¡°Self-sufficient.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. We¡¯ve got everything we need right here,¡± Nalin said, gesturing to the surrounding area.

    ¡°So, who usually does the hunting?¡± Alam asked. ¡°Is it just a few people, or¡­?¡±

    ¡°Everyone can, really. We have some dedicated hunters, but anyone can join in. We share everything,¡± Nalin explained. ¡°I can go grab a deer now, if you¡¯d like.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going hunting now?¡± Alam asked, surprised. ¡°I thought we were just cooking.¡±

    ¡°I can handle it,¡± Nalin reassured him. ¡°Hunting¡¯s not a big deal. I¡¯ll be back before you know it. You just relax.¡± She turned to go.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Alam said. ¡°Maybe just a smaller animal? I don¡¯t want you taking any risks.¡±

    Nalin laughed. ¡°Dear, I told you, I¡¯m quite good at hunting. I¡¯ll bring home a deer for dinner tonight. It¡¯s tastier than smaller animals, and we¡¯ll get more meat from it. Just wait here.¡± She waved goodbye as she walked toward the forest.

    ¡°Nalin¡­¡± Alam called, watching her disappear into the trees.

    He settled back in the tent, waiting for her return. Moments later, he heard the sound of bow and arrow hitting the forest, followed by an eerie silence. Then, Nalin emerged, a deer in hand, her expression calm and triumphant.

    ¡°What?! How are you so fast? You¡¯re cheating, right? You already put the deer nearby!¡± Alam exclaimed, shocked

    Nalin laughed, ¡°I¡¯m using a bow and arrow for hunting! Of course, I¡¯m going to be more efficient than those who use spears or melee weapons. So yes, you could say I¡¯m cheating.¡±

    Alam shook his head, a hint of skepticism in his eyes. ¡°No, it¡¯s too quick. I¡¯ve hunted deer before, and it took me hours or even a day just to track and locate their position.¡±

    Nalin raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her expression. ¡°Oh, I know it takes time to hunt deer. But this is my specialty. I have quite a bit of experience, so I can usually bring one back in just a few minutes. The location here is quite convenient for hunting, which helps.¡±

    Alam narrowed his eyes, suspicion creeping in.

    Nalin sensed his doubt, her playful demeanor shifting to something more serious. ¡°What? You think I just put the deer here or brought it with me beforehand?¡±

    ¡°Never mind,¡± Alam replied with a chuckle. ¡°Next time, I¡¯ll make sure to be beside you while I¡¯m fully healed.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, Nalin tried to relax. ¡°Fine, but please don¡¯t accuse me of cheating. This is my expertise, and I¡¯m really good at it¡ªat least from my perspective.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of Gott,¡± Alam said, ¡°let¡¯s skin this deer and cook it.¡±

    Nalin nodded eagerly, grabbing a skinning knife from her bag. As she worked, Alam watched her deft movements, impressed by her skill. Within minutes, the deer was skinned, leaving only the meat behind.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the hardest part done,¡± Nalin said, putting the skin away. ¡°The cooking part will be easy.¡±

    Alam peeked into the cooking room, where various ingredients awaited. ¡°Hey, wait a minute¡­ you have electricity?¡±

    Nalin chuckled at his surprise. ¡°Of course! This place is quite well-off. We have all the kitchen appliances we need. We don¡¯t have to rely on fire anymore; we just use electricity to cook.¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see. So the only thing missing is communication, huh?¡± Alam mused.

    Nalin¡¯s expression turned thoughtful. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s true. We¡¯re mostly self-sustaining here, but we lack communication technology. No cell phones or wireless devices, so that¡¯s our only gap.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. This place is like an adult dream,¡± Alam remarked.

    Nalin laughed lightly. ¡°Yeah, it is. Everyone here lives a peaceful life, bartering for what they need. It¡¯s a paradise, really.¡±

    ¡°You have no idea what you¡¯re talking about, girl. You¡¯re only 16,¡± Alam teased.

    Nalin laughed softly. ¡°You think I don¡¯t know much just because I¡¯m 16? I¡¯ve read books and heard stories from the older folks here. I know about the world outside.¡±

    ¡°Do you need help with cooking?¡± Alam offered.

    ¡°No, but thanks for asking,¡± Nalin replied, her tone relaxed. ¡°I can handle it. I have plenty of experience cooking meat.¡±

    ¡°Alright, then I¡¯ll just sleep,¡± Alam said, settling down.

    ¡°Just sleeping? You¡¯re not going to watch me cook?¡± Nalin teased.

    ¡°Maybe I will,¡± Alam said with a grin before closing his eyes.

    As Nalin cooked, the delicious aroma of the meat filled the tent, making Alam¡¯s stomach growl. Soon, she entered with the cooked deer meat, a proud smile on her face. ¡°Dinner¡¯s ready! I cooked it with garlic, onion, and some herbs. You should try it!¡±

    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll eat,¡± Alam replied, eager to dig in.

    ¡°Just be careful; it¡¯s hot!¡± Nalin warned playfully.

    As Alam ate, he sighed. ¡°I feel bad just sitting here like this every day. It¡¯s war out there.¡±

    Nalin¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°I know. It¡¯s tough, especially with the Blood Khaganate and the True Horde. You¡¯re lucky to be here, away from the fighting.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve heard about it?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°Yes. How do you know? Do you know someone involved?¡±

    ¡°A close friend,¡± Alam admitted.

    Nalin¡¯s eyes glistened. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You must miss them.¡± She pulled him into a tight hug, her voice shaky. ¡°I miss the world outside too. It¡¯s painful to think of who¡¯s gone.¡±

    ¡°Hey,¡± Alam said, patting her head gently. ¡°Humans are stronger than you think. I¡¯m still here.¡± He rubbed her cheek gently as she relaxed into the hug, burying her face against his shoulder.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for being emotional,¡± Nalin murmured. ¡°So much has happened in the last two decades.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re here now,¡± Alam reassured her. ¡°That counts for something.¡±

    Nalin nodded, pulling back slightly but still close. ¡°Thank you. You¡¯re kind to put up with me.¡± She smiled softly, a gentle warmth spreading through her at his touch. ¡°By the way, your ¡®bear¡¯ still isn¡¯t back from hunting, is she?¡±

    Nalin¡¯s expression shifted to concern. ¡°Now that you mention it, she¡¯s been gone longer than usual. A day or two is normal, but¡­¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Alam said, glancing around. ¡°I think it¡¯s been about ten days since I got here. Maybe more.¡±

    Nalin counted mentally. ¡°You¡¯re right. It¡¯s been over two weeks.¡± Her brow furrowed.

    ¡°Well,¡± Alam said, considering his options. ¡°If this caravan takes too long¡­¡±

    ¡°Oh no,¡± Nalin interrupted, a frown crossing her face. ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous to travel to the city now. Especially with winter coming.¡±

    ¡°So, no caravans until spring?¡± Alam sighed.

    ¡°That¡¯s what the weather forecasts say,¡± Nalin confirmed. ¡°A harsh winter, lasting until mid-spring. No caravans.¡±

    ¡°Six months,¡± Alam groaned dramatically. ¡°September, October¡­ six months! I¡¯m trapped!¡±

    Nalin chuckled. ¡°Trapped? This place is comfortable enough.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not the place,¡± Alam said. ¡°It¡¯s my¡­ position. People need me.¡±

    Nalin grasped his hand, her concern deepening. ¡°Important things? Who needs you? Family? Friends?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Alam hesitated.

    ¡°Who are they?¡± Nalin pressed gently.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say,¡± Alam said softly.

    Nalin released his hand, understanding. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s alright if you don¡¯t want to talk about it. I¡¯m here if you need to.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Alam rubbed the back of his neck. He started to say something, then stopped.

    Nalin squeezed his hand again. ¡°What is it? Is something wrong?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s finish eating first,¡± Alam said, redirecting the conversation.

    Nalin nodded, refilled her plate, and sat beside him. ¡°Here. Finish your meal. We can talk later.¡±

 Chapter 47 Sweet talk.

    Nalin noticed Alam had finished his meal but had fallen silent again. Concern flickered across her face as she sensed he was holding something back. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± she asked gently, her voice filled with warmth. ¡°You seem like you want to talk, but you¡¯re also reluctant.¡±

    Alam shifted, hesitating before responding. ¡°What¡¯s your opinion on the True Horde?¡±

    At the mention of the True Horde, Nalin¡¯s expression shifted to one of shock and suspicion. This wasn¡¯t a topic to be taken lightly; they were the enemies of both the Tsaatan and Blood Khaganate. ¡°What do you mean by ¡®what¡¯s my opinion of the True Horde¡¯? What do you want to know?¡± she replied cautiously.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say¡­ I belong to them,¡± Alam revealed, his words hanging heavy in the air.

    Nalin froze, her breath catching in her throat. ¡°You¡¯re a member of the True Horde?¡± she echoed, disbelief creeping into her voice. The warmth of their earlier conversation evaporated, replaced by tension.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam confirmed, his tone matter-of-fact.

    Her voice rose in anger. ¡°So you¡¯re one of them¡ªthe group that massacres nomads and attacks my people?¡± Nalin¡¯s eyes flashed with fury, and the tension between them crackled like static electricity.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t think we do that¡­ We just attack mercenaries and Blood Khaganate soldiers,¡± Alam said, trying to defend himself.

    Nalin¡¯s anger simmered, but she kept her voice steady. ¡°That¡¯s not completely true. Your comrades attack innocent people for no reason and kill anyone who opposes them without mercy. They even kidnap children and enslave them. Your leader is a ruthless tyrant.¡±

    Alam narrowed his eyes in response. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard that. I know some of them are new recruits under ex-warlords, but what you¡¯re saying is half-truth.¡±

    Nalin¡¯s expression remained skeptical. ¡°Well then, enlighten me. What¡¯s the full truth?¡±

    ¡°The True Horde Confederation is uniting various mercenaries and tribes to take control of Central Asia. They reached Central China and Korea about three months ago. The Blood Khaganate is on the defensive¡­ unless the Red Nation comes after them,¡± Alam explained.

    Nalin¡¯s surprise was evident. ¡°You said the True Horde has already reached Central China and Korea? I thought they were still in Europe! Are you sure this information is correct?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam replied, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. ¡°I saw a golden statue of Kim Jong Un while I was in Korea.¡±

    Nalin was momentarily stunned. ¡°Wait, you¡¯ve been to Korea yourself?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam confirmed.

    Nalin¡¯s eyes widened in astonishment. ¡°So you managed to conquer Korea and unite all their people into your group, and some factions joined you voluntarily? I thought Koreans were the most resistant against you, but they ended up joining you?¡± A hint of worry crept into her voice.

    ¡°Yes, some fought, and some joined willingly,¡± Alam replied.

    Nalin¡¯s expression intensified with concern. ¡°That¡¯s quite a development. How large is the True Horde now? How many members have you gathered?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a military secret,¡± Alam said, a teasing note in his tone.

    ¡°Of course, a military secret,¡± Nalin replied, rolling her eyes playfully. ¡°Let¡¯s make a bet. If I guess your group size correctly, will you tell me how many members the True Horde has?¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Alam said, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Good. Here¡¯s my first guess: I think the True Horde is around two to three million people, with about 150,000 active members. Am I correct?¡± Nalin asked, a playful smirk on her lips.

    ¡°Eh¡­ not quite right,¡± Alam replied, stifling a laugh.

    Nalin¡¯s curiosity piqued. ¡°Really? I¡¯m surprised to hear that. Can you tell me the correct answer so I know what my next guess should be?¡±

    ¡°The population is higher, but the army is actually lower than that,¡± Alam clarified.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Nalin furrowed her brow, trying to wrap her mind around the numbers. ¡°Huh? That¡¯s quite surprising. If the armies of the True Horde are lower than that number, then¡­ I guess my next guess might be too high. How about nine to ten million for the population of the True Horde?¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s safe to say that since we¡¯re a confederation, our members might not always be truthful about their numbers,¡± Alam explained.

    Nalin nodded, understanding the implication. ¡°I see why you say the number could be higher. If some members don¡¯t tell the truth about their number, then the actual population might be much larger.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of which, what do they say about the True Horde leader?¡± Alam asked, shifting the topic slightly.

    Nalin hesitated, her tone becoming cautious. ¡°Well¡­ they say he¡¯s a ruthless tyrant. He always seeks more power and tries to expand his territory. There are worse things said about him, but you probably don¡¯t want to hear those.¡±

    ¡°Ha! I see¡­¡± Alam chuckled.

    Nalin smiled, her mood lightening. ¡°Now, why are you laughing at me? Don¡¯t you know the True Horde leader is not someone to take lightly? He can be quite scary, you know.¡±

    ¡°Scary? Sure¡­ but maybe he¡¯s a vampire!¡± Alam winked playfully.

    Nalin¡¯s cheeks flushed at the thought. ¡°Vampire? Pfft! Why would you say something like that?¡±

    ¡°Because vampires can be charming,¡± Alam teased.

    Nalin couldn¡¯t help but laugh, shaking her head. ¡°Vampires are indeed charming, but they¡¯re also dangerous. The main danger is their impulsive desire to suck you dry. They won¡¯t stop until they drain you completely, and that¡¯s why most people consider them dangerous monsters.¡±

    Alam sighed heavily, his expression deepening as he processed Nalin''s earlier warning about vampires. She noticed the change in his demeanor, concern knitting her brow. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? You seem bothered,¡± she asked gently.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Alam replied, his voice trailing off.

    Nalin¡¯s concern grew as she sensed his reluctance to open up. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll stop asking. Now, for my second guess¡­ uh, how about 25 million? Do you want to reveal the true number now?¡±

    ¡°Uhk¡­ I think I need sleep,¡± Alam murmured, his eyelids drooping.

    ¡°Yeah, you should definitely take a nap,¡± Nalin said, her tone lightening. ¡°But about that bet¡­ you remember what you promised, right?¡±

    Alam stood up, ready to retreat to his bed. ¡°I¡¯m going to bed now,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yeah, you definitely need to rest. But let¡¯s talk about our dinner date tomorrow,¡± Nalin said, smiling as she raised a finger, counting off her ideas. ¡°How about I pick the place, and you choose the time?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Alam asked, confusion flickering across his face.

    Nalin laughed, a playful glint in her eye. ¡°I¡¯m talking about the dinner date I mentioned yesterday! When you promised me dinner, you agreed to be my date, right?¡±

    ¡°Uh? What¡­ date?¡± Alam stammered, trying to process her words.

    ¡°Oh, did you forget?¡± Nalin teased, leaning in closer. ¡°Remember our bet about guessing the True Horde¡¯s population? You promised me dinner if I got it right.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I see¡­ that,¡± Alam replied, realization dawning on him.

    Nalin¡¯s smile widened. ¡°Good! Now let me decide on the dinner date. Do you have any food preferences?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know. A date with a 16-year-old girl? Just be yourself; I¡¯ll be okay.¡±

    Nalin blushed slightly at the mention of her age. ¡°I¡¯m not THAT young! Please don¡¯t describe me like that. But you¡¯re right about one thing¡ªI¡¯ll just be myself. Anyway, is there any particular food you like?¡±

    ¡°So, how old are you?¡± Alam asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

    Surprised by the question, Nalin thought for a moment. ¡°Well¡­ I guess you can just guess.¡±

    ¡°Fourteen?¡± Alam guessed playfully.

    She shook her head vigorously. ¡°Nope, wrong again! Keep trying!¡±

    ¡°Haha¡­ six?¡± he tried again.

    Nalin raised an eyebrow, a mix of disbelief and amusement crossing her face. ¡°No way! How can you guess that?¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay¡­ sixteen?¡± Alam offered, a smirk on his lips.

    ¡°Not that young! You¡¯re guessing in the wrong direction. Just imagine I¡¯m in college. How old do I look?¡±

    ¡°Then why were you lying at first? You said you were around 16 or 17¡­¡±

    Nalin pouted playfully, shaking her head. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s just a little white lie. I actually turned 17 last week. I look young because I always take care of myself.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure, next time you¡¯ll be back to 16 again,¡± Alam joked.

    Nalin laughed, her cheeks flushing. ¡°Oh no, you got me! Yes, I probably would. But people often mistake me for 16, and it always makes me laugh. So, how old are you? I¡¯m curious.¡±

    ¡°Guess,¡± Alam said, raising an eyebrow.

    Nalin¡¯s competitive spirit flared. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s play the guessing game. I¡¯ll guess first. Hmm¡­ you¡¯re in your late 20s?¡±

    ¡°Umm¡­ yeah, kinda,¡± Alam admitted, a grin creeping across his face.

    ¡°Late 20s? Maybe 28 then?¡± Nalin suggested, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

    ¡°Sure, you can say that,¡± Alam replied, chuckling.

    ¡°Great! So I was right. The only bad thing is you¡¯re 28 and still single¡­ haha,¡± Nalin teased.

    ¡°Never mind¡­ raising a child is hard, you know?¡± Alam retorted, his tone suddenly serious.

    Nalin¡¯s expression softened. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to bring up any sad memories. But hey, at least now you can go on a nice date with a pretty girl like me, right?¡±

    ¡°Not sure¡­ I actually already have you,¡± Alam said, rubbing her cheek.

    Nalin blushed. ¡°Why are you suddenly so affectionate? You were so serious just a moment ago.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be interesting¡­¡± Alam said, pulling his blanket around him.

    ¡°Definitely,¡± Nalin agreed. ¡°Do you have a horse or reindeer? We could have a picnic.¡±

    ¡°I have my old horse. Why reindeer?¡±

    ¡°I just see a lot of them around here.¡±

    ¡°True. Are you serious about that picnic?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s see,¡± Alam said, yawning.

    ¡°Alright! Let¡¯s get some rest. Tomorrow will be fun,¡± Nalin said as they settled in for the night. The bond between them grew stronger.

    The weeks passed, September¡¯s warmth giving way to October¡¯s biting winds and snow. On the South Front¡­

    The frozen steppes of Mongolia lay beneath a thick blanket of snow, a serene mask on the brewing war.

    Panji sat atop his tank, surveying the terrain. The distant sounds of war¡ªinfantry, baggage trains pulled by horses and reindeer¡ªfilled the air. Snow transformed the world into an untouched realm, yet the land felt tense, holding its breath.

    Patrick escorted Panji. The Bastard Brigade, now near-mythical, wore unified dark crimson cloaks, carried standard-issue rifles and machetes, but some kept personal items, like Patrick¡¯s hat and katana.

    A massive column of horsemen, armed with spears, guns, and RPGs, charged Panji''s squad. ¡°Attention! Enemy troops approaching! Get ready!¡±

    The Red Army prepared, weapons ready. The ground trembled.

    Gunfire erupted, and the horsemen charged into melee. Cannons and machine guns struggled in the snow, the Buffalo tank lagging behind. The horsemen attacked with terrifying speed. Chaos unfolded.

    After a frenzied melee, machine gun fire forced a retreat, but the enemy regrouped. The machine gunners focused on the enemy commander, taking him down, but the horsemen surged forward.

    Just as the tide seemed to turn, the Buffalo tank, freed from the snow by a chain, rumbled onto the front lines, its firepower sending the remaining horsemen fleeing.

    ¡°Another victory for justice!¡± Patrick shouted. Panji and the soldiers joined the battle cry.

    A general staff member arrived on a snowmobile. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Sir, we had a victory. They tried to get in close, but the tank held them off.¡±

    The officer nodded, scanning the battlefield. "They''re trying to slow us down. We need to move faster. This terrain is tougher than we expected. We need to link up with the central force across the Orkhon River. The bulldozer and repair truck are damaged."

    Panji suggested, "We could use the Buffalo to clear obstacles."

    The officer looked at the tank. "It''s not designed for that. It''s a mobile gun."

    "But it can clear obstacles with its guns. It''s faster than waiting for engineers," Panji argued.

    The officer sighed. "This advance is slower than planned. We''re spread thin. The central force has more supplies."

    Panji studied a map. "The river crossing shouldn''t be a problem."

    ¡°Good. You¡¯ll be promoted if we make it there. My Caesar bless our mighty army,¡± the officer said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best. Let¡¯s move out! We shall cross the river and regroup!¡± Panji said.

    The Red Army prepared to advance.

 Chapter 48 Red Snow

    Later, in mid-September 2404, near the Orkhon River, the frozen steppes of Mongolia stretched out like a vast, white canvas, dotted with rolling hills and the distant silhouettes of mountain peaks. The landscape was starkly beautiful, the snow-covered ground sparkling under the pale sun. Panji sat atop his tank, surveying the terrain with keen eyes, while nearby scouts moved swiftly, reporting their findings.

    ¡°Sir, no enemy spotted. We can use the Orkhon Bridge or build a pontoon bridge,¡± a scout reported.

    ¡°Pontoon bridge,¡± Panji commanded, a smile playing on his lips. ¡°We don¡¯t want our tanks taking an unscheduled bath. Do you think the enemy will attack mid-stream? It would be a rather damp way to die.¡± Like baptizing them in ice.

    ¡°Good choice, sir. I hope our 150-ton tank can handle this river,¡± the scout replied, glancing nervously at the icy waters. One good crack, and it''s a metal coffin.

    Unlike Hazel''s Buffalo tanks, Panji''s tanks were the latest version, boasting extended armor and larger calibers. However, it was still unclear which tank was superior; numbers on paper meant little. The true test of their capabilities would come in battle.

    Panji watched the engineers work tirelessly, assembling the pontoon bridge over the frozen river. ¡°I hope so, too,¡± he said, his smile unwavering.

    ¡°What¡¯s on your mind, sir? You seem in a good mood,¡± the scout asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Well, our pontoon bridge is almost ready, and the enemy hasn¡¯t attacked yet. I¡¯m just hoping everything goes smoothly,¡± Panji replied, gesturing toward the bridge.

    By the afternoon, the pontoon bridge was complete. Patrick approached, eyeing the structure. ¡°It looks solid. Our troops can cross this river without issue. Do we wait until morning, or do we go now?¡±

    ¡°Now,¡± Panji decided, nodding firmly. ¡°There¡¯s no point in waiting.¡±

    Patrick looked up at the yellowish sky. ¡°Are you sure? It¡¯ll be dark by the time we reach the other side.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure,¡± Panji said, glancing at the sky. ¡°It¡¯ll be a bit cold, but it¡¯s part of our journey. We¡¯ll be fine.¡± He smiled, reassuring himself as much as his men.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll keep watch from that hill,¡± Patrick said before heading off with his squad, while the Buffalo tank began its slow crossing.

    As Panji watched the Buffalo make its way across the pontoon bridge, his confidence grew. The engineers ensured the bridge held steady, and he nodded in approval, ready for whatever lay ahead.

    Minutes passed, then Patrick¡¯s voice came over the radio from the hill: ¡°Enemy horsemen are coming!¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Panji¡¯s heart pounded. He turned and saw the cavalry charging, their battle cries echoing. He signaled his squad to engage.

    The horsemen, with spears and RPGs, attacked, targeting the Buffalo tank and the pontoon bridge. When the initial attack subsided, they retreated to regroup.

    ¡°Come back here, you buggers!¡± Panji shouted, urging his men on. The Buffalo¡¯s gunners opened fire, hitting the retreating horsemen.

    ¡°They¡¯re using Parthian shots! They¡¯ll keep running if we let them,¡± Patrick yelled.

    ¡°Keep this battlefield clear,¡± Panji replied, telling the Buffalo to keep firing and Patrick to pursue.

    Suddenly, a new group of horsemen, in winged costumes and armed with explosives, charged from the riverbank. ¡°It¡¯s better to die fighting than at home! Attack!¡± their commander yelled.

    Night fell quickly, making it hard to see. The skirmish became chaotic, with soldiers and horsemen clashing in close combat.

    Panji watched the horsemen¡¯s explosives hit his troops. He signaled the Buffalo to fire again, but the night was filled with screams and the sounds of battle.

    A horseman slipped past and detonated himself on the pontoon bridge, damaging it and trapping the Buffalo in the river. Panji¡¯s heart sank.

    The fighting continued for hours. Firelight flickered across the battlefield, casting shadows as soldiers fought in the dark.

    Finally, the horsemen retreated, throwing explosive bolas as they fled. The Red Army, battered but still fighting, began to regroup.

    ¡°Patrick, we¡¯re in the middle of nowhere! We need help!¡± Patrick¡¯s voice crackled over the radio.

    ¡°Send a squad to assist Patrick!¡± Panji ordered.

    Patrick and his squad, having chased the enemy, were now isolated and facing a counterattack in the darkness.

    ¡°Dig in until help arrives! We¡¯ll be killed if we keep moving!¡± one of Patrick¡¯s men urged.

    ¡°Damn it! We can¡¯t dig in!¡± Patrick yelled, frustrated as they were surrounded.

    The fighting intensified, the Red Army using bayonets and swords. Though outnumbered, they held their ground.

    Then, a flare lit up the battlefield. Patrick saw the horsemen just meters away. Both sides opened fire at close range.

    Gunfire erupted everywhere. Red Army soldiers and horsemen fought desperately. The air was thick with smoke and cries. Panji fought a horseman hand-to-hand.

    Around him, the battlefield was chaos. Some Red soldiers broke formation, chasing the horsemen. Only Panji and his opponent remained focused.

    Another flare lit the night, signaling reinforcements. Panji realized he was out of ammo. The horseman was too. They stared at each other, knowing any move could be their last.

    The horseman dismounted and attacked Panji with a scimitar. Panji parried with his sword.

    ¡°Sir, we can¡¯t shoot! Too many near misses!¡± a voice crackled over the radio.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just shoot at their location?¡± Panji yelled back, still fighting.

    ¡°It¡¯s too chaotic! Our machine gun can¡¯t get a clear shot!¡±

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Panji growled, fighting on.

    Then, reinforcements opened fire. Bullets flew wildly. One hit the horseman¡¯s leg. Panji grabbed the horseman¡¯s gun and fired at the nearest enemy.

    Shooting, explosions, blood, and corpses surrounded him. Finally, the reinforcements arrived, and the remaining horsemen fled.

    ¡°Keep firing! Don¡¯t let them escape!¡± Panji shouted.

    As the horsemen vanished, Panji took a breath. ¡°We somewhat survived¡­ Caesar is on our side today,¡± a soldier said.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Panji replied, noticing blood dripping from his leg.

    Hours later, as the survivors regrouped with the main force, Panji looked across the battlefield and saw the Buffalo tank stuck in the river, its massive frame rendered immobile after the pontoon bridge was damaged. He leaned on his sword, feeling the weight of exhaustion.

    Panji¡¯s gaze fell on Patrick, who stood staring at the tank, a look of defeat on his face. The cold wind bit at them, and the river¡¯s icy waters reflected the dim light of the fading day.

    Just then, an AI sensor chimed in, its robotic voice cutting through the quiet. ¡°21:12 hrs. Lunar illumination at 87%. Visual: single equestrian figure emerges from the eastern crest. Duration 17 seconds. Subject and steed descend into the tree line at 21:13 hrs.¡±

    ¡°What in the world¡­?¡± Panji muttered as a lone rider appeared against the moonlight, chanting a strange taunt before disappearing into the trees.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that is, but it gives me the creeps,¡± one soldier said, shivering.

    Panji nodded, his instincts on high alert. ¡°Stay sharp, everyone. We don¡¯t know if that was a threat or not.¡±

    ¡°Sir, I think we should dig in until morning. We need to hope the middle army arrives to help us,¡± another soldier suggested, glancing nervously at the darkening horizon.

    Panji studied the faces of his men, seeing their uncertainty and fear. He knew they couldn¡¯t afford to be caught off guard again. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s dig in and prepare defenses. We need to be ready for anything,¡± he commanded.

    As the soldiers began to fortify their position, Panji felt the weight of leadership pressing on him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work,¡± he urged, determination fueling his resolve.

 Chapter 49 Date with Alam

    As the sun rose, Nalin stretched, eager for her date with Alam. She put on her favorite dress and a touch of makeup.

    Alam waited by the fireplace in the living room, enjoying the warmth.

    Nalin came downstairs, her eyes meeting Alam¡¯s. ¡°Good morning!¡± she smiled.

    ¡°Hey, you look different,¡± Alam said, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Different? I did some facial care. Do I look better?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of nowhere! Why bother with makeup? You¡¯re naturally beautiful,¡± he teased.

    Nalin blushed. ¡°I just feel a bit uncomfortable without it. Do you actually like how I look?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. It¡¯s interesting,¡± Alam said, patting her head lightly.

    Nalin feigned a pout. ¡°Why did you pat me? Do you think I¡¯m a child?¡±

    ¡°Well, you are a bit,¡± he chuckled.

    Nalin leaned forward, mischievous. ¡°So you¡¯re responsible for me? Then you have to pick me up on time!¡±

    ¡°Ugh, I¡¯m kind of sleepy,¡± Alam admitted, yawning.

    ¡°Still sleepy? Should I be worried?¡±

    ¡°No, just bored. It¡¯s peaceful here, but I can¡¯t do what I usually do.¡±

    ¡°It is quiet. We need some entertainment.¡±

    ¡°What do you want to do today? Know a good picnic spot?¡±

    ¡°Yes! A beautiful place near the west taiga, with green forests and moonlight!¡±

    ¡°More trees? What¡¯s the difference?¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t much difference besides a few buildings. But it¡¯ll still be a lovely date! Do you like the forest here?¡±

    ¡°Hmm, alright then. Let¡¯s go. Do we bring the horse?¡±

    Nalin chuckled. ¡°This is my old horse. I raised him. He¡¯s tame. I usually use my reindeer now.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you were a refugee? Have you always been nomadic?¡±

    Nalin¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°Yes. After the Great Disaster War. My family escaped with this horse. We arrived seven years ago, during the Crimson Nation and Blood Khaganate war. It was stressful, surviving in a foreign land, competing with other refugees for resources. I saw terrible things¡­ refugees turning on each other for food. Even the forest animals became targets.¡±

    A heavy silence fell.

    Nalin gave him a teasing smile. ¡°But enough of that! We have a picnic, right?¡±

    ¡°Right. Let¡¯s make it a good one.¡±

    Nalin went to the horse outside.

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s mount up,¡± Alam said, following.

    Nalin stopped. ¡°Wait! I forgot the saddle and rope! They¡¯re in the storage cabinet.¡±

    Alam went inside, found the saddle and rope, and pocketed a flare gun he saw.

    They saddled the horse and rode off. A light breeze carried the scent of the forest.

    ¡°Hm, Nalin¡­¡± Alam began. ¡°Do the villagers just let us go alone?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting chaperones. They trust me. But what about you? Are you okay without one?¡± she teased.

    ¡°I¡¯m a bit naughty,¡± Alam said. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll have to behave.¡±

    Nalin laughed. ¡°How naughty? Give me an example.¡±

    ¡°I flirt with women for fun,¡± Alam admitted.

    Nalin leaned closer. ¡°Really? Confident, huh? Flirt with me using your best lines!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m different now,¡± Alam said.

    ¡°Aw, come on! Don¡¯t be shy!¡±

    ¡°This looks like a good spot for breakfast,¡± Alam said, glancing around.

    ¡°Yes, perfect! Quiet and private. Let¡¯s eat here.¡± She reached for the picnic basket.

    ¡°Ahh¡­ what a beautiful time,¡± Alam murmured.

    After setting out the food, Alam leaned back. ¡°After we eat¡­ a little nap, right?¡±

    Nalin nodded.

    Alam playfully patted her head. Nalin giggled and patted his head back.

    ¡°Can I nap on your thigh?¡± Alam asked.

    Nalin raised an eyebrow. ¡°Why not use the grass? It¡¯s soft!¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, lying back. ¡°Pat my head while I sleep.¡±

    Nalin gently patted his head, humming a folk song.

    ¡°Do you think fighting for someone else is worth it?¡± Alam asked suddenly.

    Nalin considered. ¡°In most cases, no. Relationships are fragile. But fighting for the right thing might be.¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re right. I¡¯ll fight for my pleasure,¡± Alam laughed.

    Nalin chuckled. ¡°But what¡¯s my place in those fights?¡±

    ¡°You know the answer,¡± he teased.

    ¡°Oh? You¡¯re just bringing me along for fun?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, like you said, relationships are temporary. It could be tomorrow or fifty years from now,¡± Alam said.

    Nalin chuckled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. ¡°Fair enough. Let¡¯s enjoy this picnic.¡±

    As Alam nodded, Nalin yawned and leaned closer, embracing him.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    A helicopter appeared, breaking the peace. ¡°Oh dear! A helicopter!¡±

    ¡°Is that a Black Hawk?¡± Alam squinted.

    ¡°It¡¯s flying low, hiding in the fog. And it¡¯s not heading toward the battle.¡±

    ¡°Probably a friendly or¡­ a hunter,¡± Alam said seriously.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything foolish! It¡¯s just a helicopter. We¡¯re far from the fighting. They might not even notice us.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s approaching where I crashed before,¡± Alam said gravely.

    Nalin¡¯s heart raced. ¡°Wait¡­ does that mean¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been two weeks. Probably a rescue team,¡± Alam explained.

    ¡°Yeah, that makes sense. They¡¯d likely start searching for you in this area,¡± Nalin said, her voice steadying.

    ¡°I¡¯ll miss our time here,¡± Alam said, his gaze distant.

    Nalin felt a lump in her throat. ¡°I¡¯ll miss it too. But we can still meet again after this picnic, right?¡±

    ¡°No¡­ I mean, I will go,¡± Alam said, suddenly serious, as he shot a flare into the sky.

    Nalin turned to look at the helicopter, watching as it responded to the signal. ¡°They saw our flare! It looks like our picnic is coming to an end.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Alam¡¯s expression was conflicted. ¡°I hope it¡¯s a rescue team. If not, then¡­¡±

    Nalin, sensing his anxiety, tried to remain optimistic. ¡°Don¡¯t be too pessimistic. The chances of it being a rescue team are much higher than a hunting party.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Alam said, glancing at her. ¡°But I¡¯m actually the leader of the True Horde confederation.¡±

    Nalin¡¯s heart sank. ¡°Wait, so you¡¯re the leader? Do you think the war will affect our relationship?¡±

    ¡°Not really. The question is¡­ will my mask affect our relationship?¡± Alam replied, his tone shifting.

    Nalin¡¯s eyes widened in realization. ¡°So that¡¯s why you wear a mask outside the village. But what kind of person are you without it? That¡¯s the true you.¡±

    ¡°I wear it to avoid the mixed opinions about me in this settlement. Hiding is just safer,¡± he explained.

    Nalin considered this, her expression turning serious. ¡°But does the negative opinion really affect you to the point where you have to hide?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say my helicopter crashed because someone tried to kill me, and my crew probably didn¡¯t make it,¡± Alam said, his voice heavy with regret.

    Nalin¡¯s heart ached for him. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. You faced life-threatening danger, and you lost those close to you. My condolences.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Alam replied, his gaze distant as the helicopter flew closer. He waved at the crew, who spotted him and threw down an intercom.

    After a brief communication, the helicopter began to rise again, disappearing into the sky.

    ¡°They¡¯ll come back with ground units and escort me to a nearby clearing,¡± Alam said, relief washing over him.

    Nalin smiled, feeling lighter at the thought. ¡°That¡¯s good! But will they harm us if I go with you to the nearest helicopter base?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. But if you do, you probably won¡¯t see the bears again for a long time,¡± Alam teased.

    Nalin sighed, a mix of emotions swirling within her. ¡°I guess it¡¯s an unexpected surprise for me. I¡¯ll follow you, even if it means missing the bears.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s head back to the village, then,¡± Alam said, determination in his voice.

    Nalin nodded and turned toward the west taiga village. As they rode, she noticed the villagers watching them closely, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

    ¡°Just ignore them. They¡¯ll probably report this to the village leader because you¡¯re the leader of the True Horde,¡± she said, her tone firm.

    ¡°Do you think Abubakar, the guardian of the village, hates the True Horde?¡± Alam asked quietly.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say. Many villagers live under the regime of the True Horde, and while they may not openly express hatred, I¡¯m sure some secretly do. They¡¯re just ordinary people trying to avoid conflict,¡± Nalin replied.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go inside and pack your belongings,¡± Alam instructed, his tone casual yet firm.

    Nalin nodded, quickly entering her small house in the West Taiga village, her heart racing with anticipation. She packed her belongings, moving with a sense of urgency. After a few minutes, she emerged, carrying her things and scanning the familiar surroundings to ensure everything was safely hidden in the dense forest.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s better if you write a letter for Bear,¡± Alam suggested, a hint of seriousness in his voice. ¡°He was kind of a dad figure for you here.¡±

    Nalin chuckled, shaking her head. ¡°I guess he is¡­ but it¡¯s weird to feel so attached to a bear after living alone without family or friends. I mean, I¡¯m writing a letter to a bear!¡±

    ¡°Hey, do it!¡± Alam encouraged, a playful grin spreading across his face.

    With a sigh, Nalin retrieved paper and a pen, her expression softening as she poured her thoughts into the letter. After writing a heartfelt message, she folded it neatly and sealed it with a candle wax.

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam said, placing his pistol on top of the envelope. ¡°He gave me shelter and helped me recover. This is the least I can do to repay his kindness. Oh, and I took his flare gun too,¡± he added with a chuckle.

    Nalin raised an eyebrow at the flare gun. ¡°Let¡¯s hope we don¡¯t need that anytime soon,¡± she teased, then whispered a quick prayer for both Bear and the rescue team¡¯s safety.

    ¡°Do you need to say goodbye to anyone here?¡± Alam asked, glancing at her.

    Nalin hesitated, her heart heavy. ¡°I don¡¯t really want to say goodbye. I feel like they¡¯d worry when I just disappear to follow you to the helicopter base.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Alam replied, understanding her reluctance.

    Nalin checked her watch, wondering how soon the rescue team would arrive. Just then, Alam patted her head, and she felt a warmth spread through her.

    ¡°Hey! I¡¯m not a kid!¡± she protested playfully, but couldn¡¯t suppress a smile.

    ¡°Just keeping you grounded,¡± he replied with a wink.

    Suddenly, Nalin remembered something. ¡°Oh no! My horse!¡± she exclaimed, realizing she had nearly forgotten her.

    ¡°What are you going to do about her? Sell her? Gift her to someone?¡± Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll give her to someone nearby. It would be cruel to leave her alone in this remote area,¡± Nalin decided, feeling a pang of sadness.

    ¡°Good plan,¡± Alam said, nodding in approval.

    Nalin approached a local villager, whispering her request. ¡°Can you please take care of my horse? I¡¯ll give you a small package as a gift.¡±

    The villager¡¯s eyes lit up at the mention of a gift, and she quickly accepted the leather bag Nalin offered. Inside were biscuits, a small treat for her generosity.

    Returning to Alam, Nalin felt a mix of emotions. ¡°I guess it¡¯s time to go,¡± she said, her voice soft.

    ¡°Good. And pack your stuff as well,¡± Alam said, leading her toward the main building of the base.

    As they rode back, Nalin noticed the villagers watching them, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion. She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Just ignore them. They¡¯ll likely report this to the village leader since you¡¯re a top leader of the True Horde.¡±

    ¡°Do you think Abubakar, the guardian of the village, hates the True Horde?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say. They live under the regime of the True Horde, but I bet many of them harbor resentment. They¡¯re just ordinary people who want to avoid conflict,¡± Nalin replied, her tone serious.

    As they approached the helicopter, Alam waved at two ATV riders in the distance. The rescue team sped toward them, stopping abruptly as they dismounted to assess the situation.

    ¡°Greetings!¡± Alam called out.

    ¡°Thank Gott you¡¯re alive, sir!¡± one of the crew members exclaimed, relief washing over his face.

    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s head to our Hind,¡± Alam replied, his voice filled with gratitude.

    Nalin climbed into the passenger seat of the helicopter, a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling within her as the rescue team secured the doors. The pilot¡¯s voice broke through her thoughts. ¡°We¡¯re ready to go. Let¡¯s head back to the nearest base.¡±

    As the helicopter lifted off, Nalin glanced at Alam. ¡°Thank you for everything,¡± she said quietly.

    Alam smiled, but his expression quickly turned serious as he looked at the monitor, scratching his head. ¡°Oh, damn¡­¡±

    ¡°Are you okay? Is everything fine?¡± Nalin asked, concern flooding her voice.

    ¡°No¡­ My vassals have been attacking the Red Nation on their own since I disappeared. The Red Army has reached Ulaanbaatar now,¡± Alam revealed, his tone heavy with worry.

    Nalin gasped, the weight of his words sinking in. The balance of power was shifting rapidly, and uncertainty loomed over them both.

    Since Alam''s absence, the various warlords within the True Horde had been shaken. They were eager to replace him but struggled to find a worthy successor. Each warlord raced to prove themselves by launching successful campaigns against the Red Army, hoping to gain recognition as the new leader of the True Horde. However, their lack of coordination turned their efforts into a chaotic disaster, with campaigns lacking cohesion and unity.

    that¡¯s, our two protagonist alam and panji now are really in facing a new world. alam which his force slaughter in east on his vacation plus his favorite secretary and ex eleanor is missing.

    while panji trying be a war hero fight a slog war in brutal war in winter. what will happen to them. do they will stop ww4? can just two man stop the force of nature?

 Chapter 50 Old Wounds

    News intro with quick cuts of an abandoned nuclear reactor in Central Asia, then war footage

    then camera focus of Veronica "Hey everyone, Veronica here, and things in Central Asia are¡­ well, let''s just say it''s not a postcard. We''re talking about the war, obviously, but there''s something else bubbling under the surface: depleted uranium, or DU. It''s not just bullets and bombs we need to worry about, folks."

    "So, what''s the deal with DU? Turns out, it''s not exactly health food."

    <ul>

    <li>Cancer: "First off, there''s the big C. Studies suggest a link between DU exposure and higher cancer rates, like lung cancer and leukemia. So, yeah, pretty serious stuff."</li>

    <li>Kidney Damage: "Then there''s your kidneys. DU can build up in there and cause some real problems. Nobody wants that, right?"</li>

    <li>Birth Defects: "This one''s especially worrying: DU exposure has been linked to birth defects. If you''re thinking about having kids, this is definitely something to be aware of."</li>

    <li>Genetic Damage: "And it gets passed down. DU can mess with your genes in a way that affects future generations. Talk about a long-term problem."</li>

    <li>Air Pollution: "On top of all that, the war itself is making things worse. Remember those oil wells set on fire? That''s pumping a ton of nasty stuff into the air. this makes breathing difficult for people in the affected areas."</li>

    <li>Soil and Water Contamination: "And guess what? DU waste and fuel spills are getting into the soil and water. So, growing your own food? Probably not the best idea right now."</li>

    <li>Ecosystem Damage: "Let''s not forget the environment. The fighting is destroying habitats and putting species at risk. Not good for anyone."</li>

    </ul>

    "So, to sum it up, the Central Asia War isn''t just about the fighting. DU exposure is a serious health risk, with long-term consequences. We need to be aware of these dangers and take them seriously. Stay safe out there, Central Asia. And if you see something suspicious, stay far away. This is Veronica, signing off."

    then its Cut to images of mutated creatures

    Alam sigh while watch the monitor, The news was grim. It was all true. Since the war began, civilians and soldiers alike had suffered numerous health problems. The region was becoming a wasteland. not slang of ¡°eastern wasteland¡± they usualy refer to. but the real one.

    Alam stepped off the helicopter into the crisp air of Lhasa. The high-altitude plateau spread out before him, a stunning mix of browns and greens under the Himalayan peaks. The Potala Palace stood majestically, welcoming him to the Land of the Snows.

    At the nearby military base, Alam met Light, a casually dressed figure with striking black hair and purple eyes, a sword hanging from his hip. His unassuming appearance would surprise anyone who might expect a high-ranking officer.

    ¡°Hello again. War is progressing,¡± Alam began. ¡°Winter is coming, and enemy super tanks are sluggish. But tell me, have you encountered heavy armor before?¡±

    Light smirked. ¡°My first war was against heavy tanks. Sluggish in winter, but still dangerous. What¡¯s your equipment like?¡±

    ¡°Lighter, mobile units. We attack at night and at bridge crossings, but in open fields, they¡¯re unstoppable,¡± Alam replied, frustrated.

    ¡°Avoid open areas unless necessary,¡± Light advised. ¡°Winter is good for ambushes, but watch out for snowstorms.¡±

    ¡°True. We use hit-and-run tactics and have the home advantage. But how do we deal with heavy armor?¡±

    ¡°Heavy artillery,¡± Light said seriously. ¡°Or capture theirs. Even super tanks can¡¯t withstand a barrage.¡±

    Alam sighed. ¡°Every shot reveals our position. I tried luring them out by throwing everything at them, even their fallen, but they¡¯re stoic.¡±

    Light chuckled. ¡°A bold move. But stoicism makes them hard to trick. Experience keeps them cautious.¡±

    ¡°How do you appear weak?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°Pretend to retreat. Lure them out of their positions,¡± Light suggested. ¡°Risky, but effective.¡±

    ¡°Good idea. Decoys will be costly,¡± Alam mused.

    ¡°Exactly. But if they sense weakness, they¡¯ll become overconfident,¡± Light explained.

    ¡°Got it. Some enemy units mix mercenaries and recruits with elite troops. I need to divide them. Maybe rumors¡­¡±

    ¡°Rumors are good. Target their egos,¡± Light agreed. ¡°Rumor a weakness in their equipment or suggest internal betrayal.¡±

    ¡°Tell me more.¡±

    ¡°Believability is key. People believe what¡¯s repeated. Control the source, and it becomes contagious.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll find someone to bribe,¡± Alam said.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t have to be high-ranking. Even common soldiers work, with careful manipulation,¡± Light advised. ¡°I¡¯ve even used my own commander.¡±

    ¡°Example?¡±

    ¡°I had a disloyal commander spread a rumor about a traitor. It created mistrust. Disloyal people prioritize self-interest.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. I¡¯ll exploit their weaknesses.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not guaranteed,¡± Light warned. ¡°Ego can outweigh strategy.¡±

    ¡°Good point,¡± Alam conceded.

    Their conversation ended, Alam glancing at the Potala Palace before ordering his pilot to fly.

    Alam returned to the military base in mid-September, the weight of his recent experiences heavy on his shoulders. Now, he was back to reclaim his power and forgive his vassals for the disaster of the last campaign. He understood that the chaos stemmed from the diverse backgrounds of those under his command. By November, he planned to have the True Horde back under his control, but for now, he faced a world filled with uncertainty.

    The next day, the evacuation of the base was complete, and Alam was en route to a new base in Xian. Inside the Hind helicopter, Nalin sat quietly beside him, lost in her thoughts.

    ¡°Ahh¡­ here we are, Xian,¡± Alam said as they descended, nostalgia washing over him. ¡°I fought one of my greatest battles here a few months ago.¡±

    Nalin¡¯s curiosity piqued. ¡°You fought a great battle here? What happened?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam replied, a hint of pride in his voice. ¡°I besieged the Xian Empire, attacking two cities at once with only a hundred soldiers, ten IFVs, and a single Hind, facing thousands of enemies.¡±

    Nalin¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°That sounds impressive! You managed all that with so few people?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know it sounds cocky, but I was surprised I pulled it off,¡± Alam admitted with a modest smile. ¡°Thanks to Gott and my men.¡±

    Nalin fell quiet, pondering the role of Gott and Alam¡¯s men in that monumental battle. ¡°What¡¯s your plan now?¡± she finally asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll hold a war council after this. We can take a walk afterward,¡± Alam said, glancing at her with a hint of excitement.

    ¡°Sure! I¡¯d love to,¡± Nalin replied, her tone brightening.

    ¡°Oh, I know where we should go,¡± Alam said, starting the jeep with an escort to a nearby village.

    ¡°More flashy areas next time?¡± Nalin teased. ¡°But what do you need to do here first?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a middle-aged woman named Luo. She¡¯s a widow, and her children died in battle. I visited her frequently during the siege. I just need to check on her,¡± Alam explained.

    Nalin¡¯s expression softened. ¡°That¡¯s good. I¡¯m sure she appreciates your visits.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but it might be boring for you since you don¡¯t know her,¡± he added, glancing at her.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. If you¡¯re meeting with her, take your time. I can wait,¡± Nalin said, trying to hide her disappointment.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Alam replied, patting her head affectionately before heading toward the village.

    As they approached, Alam knocked on the door of a modest building. It opened slightly, revealing Luo¡¯s kind face.

    ¡°Hello! Can I help you?¡± she asked, peering out.

    ¡°Can I meet Luo?¡± Alam inquired.

    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s me! I¡¯m so sorry, but you look a bit different,¡± she said, stepping aside to let him in. ¡°Come in!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess I have a tired face,¡± Alam said with a chuckle, taking a seat as Luo began to prepare tea.

    ¡°You look like you¡¯ve experienced a hard life recently, but your spirit remains,¡± Luo said as she poured the steaming tea, her voice warm and inviting.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Is that bad? It¡¯s only been a couple of months,¡± Alam replied, taking a sip of the bitter tea.

    ¡°It¡¯s not bad, but it¡¯s clear you¡¯ve been through a lot, especially with the unification of China,¡± Luo noted, concern lacing her tone.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m trying to control my emotions, even in battle,¡± Alam admitted, his gaze drifting.

    Luo nodded, her expression thoughtful. ¡°How long have you been fighting the Red Nation?¡±

    ¡°About two months now,¡± Alam replied, then added, ¡°Does winter in Xian affect you?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not too bad compared to other places. I¡¯ve grown used to it over the years,¡± Luo explained.

    ¡°I see. You just get used to it after a while,¡± Alam said, nodding in understanding.

    ¡°Yes, exactly. But what about you? How does the climate affect you?¡± Luo asked.

    ¡°Ha, it¡¯s like a sea of ice where I come from,¡± Alam said, showing her a photo of his base buried in snow.

    Luo marveled at the image. ¡°You could survive living in such cold?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to stay longer, but there¡¯s someone waiting for me,¡± Alam replied, glancing toward the door.

    ¡°Who¡¯s waiting for you? A comrade or someone special?¡± Luo asked with a hint of curiosity.

    ¡°Kind of,¡± Alam said with a grin. ¡°My base operation is now in Xian, and if Gott wills it, I can visit again soon.¡±

    ¡°I hope you do. I¡¯m interested in hearing more about your adventures,¡± Luo said, her smile brightening the room.

    ¡°Thanks for the tea. It¡¯s been great catching up,¡± Alam said as he prepared to leave.

    ¡°Thank you for visiting, and I hope we can meet again,¡± Luo replied warmly.

    As Alam stepped outside, As he approached Nalin, he couldn¡¯t help but tease, ¡°Do I take long? Hehe.¡±

    Nalin looked up, feigning disappointment. ¡°Yes, you have been a while. I thought you would be back sooner, but it seems my wait got longer.¡±

    ¡°Anyway, what do you want to see in the city? There are museums and advanced stores,¡± Alam suggested, eager to shift the mood.

    Nalin thought for a moment. ¡°The museum sounds interesting. I believe it would have some fascinating artifacts.¡±

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go then!¡± Alam replied, excitement bubbling in his voice.

    They rode back to the city, eventually reaching the Terracotta Museum. As they arrived, the escort parked the vehicle and guided them inside. The museum was a treasure trove of ancient Chinese artifacts, a sprawling testament to the rich history that surrounded them.

    ¡°Nalin, do you know this place from your encyclopedia collection?¡± Alam asked, glancing over at her.

    ¡°Yes! I¡¯ve read about this museum. It¡¯s one of the largest in the China Empire, filled with interesting exhibits about the culture and history,¡± she replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

    ¡°What do you know about terracotta?¡± Alam pressed, genuinely curious.

    Nalin smiled, ready to share her knowledge. ¡°Terracotta is a type of clay often found in China, used since ancient times for pottery and other purposes. The Terracotta Warriors are symbolic figures made from it, representing the might of the Chinese Empire.¡±

    ¡°Hehe, I see,¡± Alam said, amused. ¡°But what¡¯s your honest feeling? Why would someone bother to make statues on such a massive scale?¡±

    Nalin paused, thinking carefully. ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure, but it likely relates to the pride of the civilization. Creating gigantic statues projects power and permanence.¡±

    ¡°Sounds about right,¡± Alam replied thoughtfully.

    As they admired the imposing terracotta warriors, Nalin felt a swell of awe. The craftsmanship was astounding, and it struck her how these figures had stood the test of time.

    ¡°Speaking of battles, my war council meeting is soon. We¡¯ll continue our little adventure later,¡± Alam said, glancing at the time.

    Nalin felt a flicker of disappointment but quickly masked it. ¡°Oh, I understand. Go meet the war council. We can continue this later when you¡¯re free,¡± she said softly.

    ¡°Alright. Feel free to roam while I¡¯m in the meeting. There will be an escort to guard you,¡± Alam added, his tone reassuring.

    ¡°Really? I can explore while the escort guards me?¡± Nalin¡¯s voice brightened.

    ¡°Yes. People nearby know we¡¯re close, so you¡¯ll need an escort wherever you go,¡± Alam explained.

    Nalin¡¯s excitement dimmed slightly at the thought of being a burden. ¡°But are you sure it¡¯s fine? I don¡¯t want to tire them out with my wandering.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry! Your escort might enjoy it. They could use a vacation too,¡± Alam joked, trying to lighten her mood.

    ¡°Oh, I see! If they get a vacation too, then it shouldn''t be a bother,¡± she said, her smile returning.

    ¡°Exactly. Alright, I¡¯ll see you later,¡± Alam said, heading toward the meeting.

    ¡°Okay, bye for now. Good luck with the war council! I hope everything goes well,¡± Nalin replied, watching him go with a mix of admiration and concern for his burdens.

    She took a deep breath, ready to embrace her newfound freedom to explore, her heart fluttering with the possibilities that lay ahead.

    Most people in the military are driven by a sense of purpose. They want to contribute to their families and their country. Fang had acted as Alam''s successor during his absence, but now she was back to being his loyal subordinate.

    Alam stepped into the bustling headquarters of the True Horde, a hive of activity where officials and officers moved with determination, ensuring everything ran smoothly. The atmosphere buzzed with urgency, and as Alam entered, heads turned in his direction. Among them was Fang, who greeted him with a respectful bow and a warm smile.

    ¡°Good to see you all. Please, have a seat,¡± Alam gestured to the assembled officers.

    They complied, whispers rippling through the room as they discussed Alam¡¯s sudden return and the assassination attempt against him. Was it a traitor within the True Horde, or an elite enemy force? As a strategist, Alam knew he had to choose his words carefully.

    Fang stood beside him, sensing the tension in the air.

    ¡°Ehem. From our reports, someone hacked the SAM system and targeted my Hind. They also sent a spec ops team to eliminate me. It must have been their elite force,¡± Alam stated, his tone grave.

    The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Alam chose to blame the unknown enemy rather than suggest a traitor within the True Horde. He believed this would help unite the shaken group. Fang¡¯s eyes narrowed with suspicion and anger.

    ¡°Anyway, we¡¯ve initiated an investigation into that incident. Now, let¡¯s focus on the Red Army invasion. Here¡¯s the latest intel on their new super tank,¡± Alam said, motioning toward a screen displaying an imposing image of the Buffalo tank, nicknamed "The Giant Coffin" by its crews.

    ¡°Impressive¡­ very impressive,¡± Fang remarked, her eyes gleaming. ¡°How many do the Red Nation have?¡±

    "We don''t know. But every engagement reveals more. Conventional attacks are proving difficult."

    "Its armor is a serious problem," Fang agreed. "Do we know its weaknesses?"

    "My artisan is working on a countermeasure, but it''s still in prototype," Alam admitted.

    Baihu looked perplexed. Zhang was focused. Jax''s eyes burned with determination.

    "For now," Alam continued, "we''ll rely on sabotage and guerrilla tactics. Hilly and forested terrain is our advantage. Open fields are theirs."

    "So terrain is key," Fang summarized. "We must avoid open plains."

    "Exactly," Alam confirmed. "And with winter approaching, the steppe will become a liability for them."

    "We should target their river crossings and supply lines," Fang suggested.

    "Agreed. Any questions?" Alam scanned the room.

    ¡°No, Sir. Thank you for your briefing. We will work tirelessly to thwart the Red Nation''s invasion and develop new tools against the Buffalo. We won¡¯t let their arsenal defeat us,¡± she said, her determination unwavering as she bowed respectfully.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s prepare. They¡¯ve thrown a beast at us, but like Goliath or the elephants Alexander faced at Gaugamela, we will slay that beast and bring shame to the Red Army!¡± Alam declared, his voice rising with passion.

    The officers echoed his words, their resolve solidifying. Fang stood proudly beside Alam, her hand gripping her pistol holster, ready to carry out their leader¡¯s orders and face the Red Nation¡¯s invasion head-on.

    Meanwhile, in the South Red Army Position

    As the Red Army huddled by the riverside, tension hung thick in the air. They stood watch all night, alert for any signs of an enemy attack. The atmosphere was charged with anxiety, the soldiers'' breaths visible in the cold morning air. Panji moved among them, checking on their morale, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on him.

    At dawn, a scout from the middle army arrived, breathless and urgent. ¡°Sir, the middle army is bringing heavy equipment and workers to retrieve the tank stuck in the river. If the recovery fails, our supreme leader has ordered its destruction and a regroup.¡±

    Panji felt a wave of relief wash over him. ¡°That¡¯s good news. We can either salvage the tank or ensure it doesn¡¯t fall into enemy hands.¡±

    ¡°But destroy a million-credit tank? That¡¯s insane!¡± one soldier exclaimed.

    ¡°Yeah, but a destroyed tank is better than letting it fall into enemy hands,¡± another added, nodding in agreement.

    Panji acknowledged their comments with a nod, understanding the gravity of the situation. The loss of such a valuable asset weighed heavily on them all.

    Patrick, however, was visibly distressed by the idea of destruction. ¡°Destroy the tank? It¡¯s like destroying a home,¡± he muttered, gazing up at the massive vehicle. The tank, a mobile fortress on the battlefield, was a symbol of their strength. The thought of it being lost made him feel helpless.

    ¡°Hold on,¡± Panji said, noticing Patrick¡¯s turmoil. ¡°We¡¯ll do everything we can to retrieve it.¡±

    As the afternoon rolled in, heavy equipment arrived¡ªcranes and tractors accompanied by workers and soldiers. They immediately began digging and attaching chains to the tank, their movements a mix of urgency and tension.

    Suddenly, an unsettling taunt echoed across the riverbank, causing soldiers to jump into defensive positions. Panji felt a chill run down his spine, the strange noise unsettling the already anxious troops.

    ¡°What the hell...?¡± Patrick muttered, scanning the area as soldiers looked skyward and around, trying to pinpoint the source of the taunting. The sound grew louder, mocking them, and some soldiers attempted to respond, shouting back questions, but the voice offered no answers, just relentless taunting.

    Then, with a sudden explosion, a mortar shell landed nearby, sending dirt and debris flying into the air. ¡°Sir! They¡¯re attacking again!¡± a soldier shouted, panic creeping into his voice.

    ¡°Hold position!¡± Panji commanded, his voice firm despite the chaos. The soldiers obeyed, taking defensive stances and watching every direction, aware that the enemy could be planning a more significant assault.

    As they steadied themselves, the taunting voice echoed once more, unsettling their nerves. Then, amidst the noise, heads began to fall from the sky, landing with a sickening thud.

    ¡°Those are the heads of our comrades! They¡¯re using catapults to launch them from the north!¡± a soldier exclaimed in horror.

    ¡°Could this be a distraction for an attack?¡± another asked, fear evident in his eyes.

    Panji took a deep breath, the gruesome sight igniting a fire of determination within him. ¡°Stay vigilant. We¡¯re waiting for the enemy to reveal their next move,¡± he urged, trying to maintain control amidst the rising panic.

    As the soldiers braced themselves, Zion¡¯s voice crackled over the intercom. ¡°Those bastards are smarter than we thought. They¡¯re using our tactics against us. We need to keep our guard up at night and prepare for any attack. Reinforce the areas they¡¯ve targeted.¡±

    With the winter steppe at their backs, the Wanderer Group had managed to impede the Red Nation''s advance into True Horde territory. The biting cold had slowed their movements, and the Wanderers¡¯ hit-and-run tactics had effectively harassed the Red Nation¡¯s troops, targeting supply lines and river crossings.

    red army prepared for the night, digging foxholes and staying alert. They knew their enemies would exploit any weakness, and they couldn¡¯t afford to lower their guard. The ominous presence of the enemy loomed over them.

    ¡°Sir, what should we do now?¡± a soldier asked, glancing anxiously at Patrick.

    ¡°Regroup with the middle army,¡± Panji said firmly.

    Patrick nodded in agreement, relief washing over him. ¡°I trust your judgment.¡±

    The decision to regroup felt like a lifeline. A shared sense of purpose settled over the Red Army soldiers as they prepared to move, the image of the stranded Buffalo a stark reminder of the cost of this war. The setting sun cast long shadows across the snow-covered steppe, a cold promise of the night to come.

    Thousands of miles away, in the dimly lit command center in California, the same setting sun cast a different kind of shadow ¨C one of frustration and mounting pressure. Zion stared at the holographic map, the blinking lights representing his stalled advance across Central Asia. The rhythmic beeping of communication consoles punctuated the heavy silence.

    "Damn it," he muttered, his eyes narrowed. "They''re like ghosts. Attacking from the shadows, then vanishing. They know this land too well." He turned to the Red General. "How do we fight an enemy we can''t pin down?"

    The General shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, with the winter setting in¡­ perhaps a strategic pause until spring¡­?"

    Zion''s jaw tightened. "A pause? That''s conceding defeat. We are the Red Nation. We don''t retreat. We adapt." He paced the room, his frustration palpable. "We need a counter-strategy. Something to flush them out."

    General Sima, a Khaganate officer, spoke up. "What if we create a specialized unit? Trained in tracking, night combat¡­ guerrilla warfare of our own."

    A spark ignited in Zion''s eyes. "Excellent. They know the land; we''ll learn it. Conventional tactics won''t work against them. We need hunters, not soldiers." He turned to Sima. "Assemble this unit. Immediately. I want the best equipment, the best training. Make them the mirror image of our enemy."

    Sima¡¯s eyes gleamed. ¡°And to ensure compliance from the locals, we should demonstrate our power. A show of force. Perhaps¡­ burn a few villages.¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression hardened. "Absolutely not. We are not barbarians. We target combatants, not civilians. We create allies, not enemies. Any civilian caught aiding the saboteurs will be dealt with according to protocol ¨C interrogation, relocation to the Khaganate. Understood?"

    ¡°Understood,¡± Sima replied, though a flicker of disappointment crossed his face.

    As Sima left, a junior officer approached, his face grim. ¡°Sir, we¡¯ve just received confirmation. The Buffalo¡­ it¡¯s irrecoverable. The enemy damaged the pontoon bridge during the attack. It¡¯s stuck fast in the river.¡±

    Zion rubbed his temples. "Another loss. They''re targeting our assets, hitting us where it hurts. Are there any casualties?"

    "The crew escaped, sir. They''ve rejoined the middle army. Our advance on the other fronts remains steady, though we''ve reached a stalemate in China."

    Zion sighed. The news from China was a heavy blow. He knew the unification efforts there were gaining momentum. He had to find a way to break the deadlock.

    "On a more¡­ promising note, sir," the General added, "the Strato Cannon is nearing completion. We anticipate it will be operational by December."

    A faint smile touched Zion''s lips. "The Strato Cannon. Yes. That will change everything." He looked back at the map, his gaze hardening. "Until then¡­ we adapt. We hunt the hunters."

 Chapter 51 Winter Relationships

    Alam stood atop the command tower of the Xian Base, peering through the heavy frost that coated the window like a winter''s veil.. A long, bloody war lay ahead, and he couldn¡¯t shake the hope that negotiation would soon break the tension. ¡°This is going to be a slog,¡± he muttered to himself, the weight of the impending conflict pressing heavily on his mind.

    His thoughts were interrupted by Fang, who had just entered with a flourish that could only be described as dramatic, if not somewhat unnecessary.perhaps she in drunk state ¡°Ah, the illustrious lady mei is our best option,¡± Fang declared, her eyes glinting with the thrill of espionage. ¡°sHe¡¯s currently embedded in the Red Nation¡¯s military, gathering secrets like a squirrel hoarding acorns for winter. I mean, without him, we¡¯d be flying blind into a storm.¡±

    Alam nodded, his brow furrowing. ¡°Right, but what about a little deception? My advisor suggested we stir the pot. If we can spread rumors, perhaps we can drive a wedge between their soldiers and mercenaries. After all, nothing fuels distrust like a good old-fashioned whisper campaign.¡±

    Fang clapped her hands together, an eager grin spreading across her face. ¡°Delightfully mischievous! If we can sow discord among their ranks, we might just turn the tide in our favor. Imagine them looking over their shoulders, wondering who they can trust. It¡¯s like high school drama, but with more bloodshed!¡±

    ¡°Yes, exactly,¡± Alam replied, a sly smile creeping onto his lips. ¡°I¡¯m planning to release one of their prisoners for a parley. We¡¯ll let the rumors flow like fine wine at a banquet.¡±

    Fang raised an eyebrow, her excitement palpable. ¡°Ah, yes! A prisoner! Nothing says ¡®let¡¯s talk¡¯ like an unexpected guest at the negotiation table. And who shall we invite to this little soir¨¦e?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with Inat,¡± Alam said, his tone turning serious. ¡°He¡¯s the stoic general from the Blood Khaganate. A tough nut to crack, but I suspect he might have some insight worth tapping into.¡±

    ¡°Stoic and stubborn, just how I like my prisoners,¡± Fang quipped, following Alam down the dimly lit corridor toward Inat¡¯s cell. ¡°What¡¯s the plan? Offer him a cup of tea and a biscuit?¡±

    alam smile a bit on fang attempt to joke. clearly. she now in drunk state.

    Inat sat in the shadows, a stone-faced figure. His sharp eyes seemed to pierce Alam. Alam took a breath.

    ¡°Hey, dude,¡± Alam said, sitting across from Inat. ¡°Remember me?¡±

    Inat¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. ¡°You are the Wanderer leader. I remember you.¡± His voice was calm.

    ¡°Right. I¡¯m here about your possible release,¡± Alam said, trying to sound confident.

    Inat¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°My release? Why? I am your prisoner.¡±

    ¡°Zion is attacking my territory. A general like you could help us reach a negotiation.¡±

    Inat glared. ¡°You want my help against the Red Nation? I fought against you in Central Asia. Why would I help?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly help,¡± Alam said with a grin. ¡°More like¡­ a bargaining chip.¡±

    Inat¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°A hostage? I am not to be trifled with.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I get that,¡± Alam said, raising his hands. ¡°But let¡¯s talk about you. What¡¯s your story?¡±

    Inat¡¯s eyes flickered. ¡°I joined the Blood Khaganate to protect my people after our homeland fell.¡±

    Alam sniffed. ¡°Your goal? Uniting Asia? World domination?¡±

    ¡°To bring order and stability to a chaotic world,¡± Inat said.

    ¡°Ironic,¡± Alam chuckled. ¡°I was thinking the same thing.¡±

    ¡°You seek peace through conquest. Many would call you a hypocrite.¡±

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t we all?¡± Alam replied.

    ¡°Not all leaders. But many. Empires are forged through war.¡±

    ¡°True. But we¡¯re softer than the Blood Khaganate. We prefer negotiation.¡±

    Inat¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°You think your methods are superior? Your hands are stained with blood too.¡±

    ¡°Bingo!¡± Alam said. ¡°So, do you see me differently now?¡±

    Inat¡¯s expression softened slightly. ¡°Our goals align, but our methods differ. You use conquest; I strive for peace.¡±

    ¡°Your arrogance is astounding,¡± Alam teased. ¡°You¡¯re either a mercenary or a Red Nation patriot.¡±

    ¡°I am a proud warrior of the Red Nation,¡± Inat replied. ¡°I fought against your conquest.¡±

    ¡°Now you¡¯re my prisoner!¡± Alam laughed.

    Inat smiled faintly. ¡°A powerful leader, a prisoner. Humbling.¡±

    ¡°How long have you served under Zion?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°Long enough to see many rise and fall. I served under General Wu before Zion.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Tell me about General Wu.¡±

    Inat took a deep breath. ¡°General Wu was a great leader. But ambition is dangerous. He tried to overthrow the Red Nation and was executed.¡±

    ¡°Oh, spicy,¡± Alam grinned.

    Inat nodded. ¡°A harsh lesson in loyalty.¡±

    ¡°And how did Zion rise?¡±

    Inat¡¯s gaze turned distant. ¡°Zion emerged from obscurity, a young, skilled general. He quickly rose through the ranks.¡±

    Alam leaned back. ¡°Interesting¡­¡±

    Inat smiled nostalgically. ¡°Zion¡¯s rise was spectacular. His bravery made him a legend. A saga of courage, ambition, and determination.¡±

    Alam chuckled. ¡°Now his army¡¯s stuck in the winter steppes.¡±

    Inat laughed lightly. ¡°Indeed! But don¡¯t underestimate him. He¡¯s a master strategist. He¡¯ll find a way.¡±

    ¡°Really? What will he do?¡±

    Inat considered. ¡°His strategies are secret. But he¡¯ll use the winter to his advantage. The terrain favors the defender.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like this is going to be one legendary battle, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Alam mused, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Inat replied, his voice steady. ¡°Both our forces are formidable. The clashes will be fierce and devastating. This battle could very well determine the fate of Asia for years to come.¡±

    ¡°Who do you think will win?¡± Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Inat smiled, amusement dancing in his eyes. ¡°I can¡¯t say for certain. Both the Red Nation and the Wanderer Groups are powerful. I believe the Red Nation will fight with everything we have, but the outcome is unpredictable until the last blow is struck.¡±

    Alam¡¯s surprise was evident. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to say that. I thought for sure a die-hard patriot like you would confidently claim the Red Nation¡¯s victory.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a patriot, yes, but I¡¯m not delusional,¡± Inat replied, his tone surprisingly pragmatic. ¡°The Wanderer Groups are formidable. I believe we¡¯ll prevail, but the battle will be brutal and nothing is guaranteed.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got a good head on your shoulders,¡± Alam said, nodding in approval. ¡°I thought you were just a ruthless general who throws soldiers into the fray. Now I see you¡¯re more... pragmatic.¡±

    Inat offered a small smile. ¡°I understand the value of patience and strategy. I don¡¯t waste my soldiers¡¯ lives needlessly. There¡¯s a game to be played in warfare, and I intend to play it wisely.¡±

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s been an honor to talk and fight with you,¡± Alam said, standing to leave. ¡°Farewell.¡±

    Inat nodded, his expression once again stoic. ¡°It has been an honor. Until we meet again¡ªperhaps as allies, perhaps on the battlefield.¡±

    As Alam stepped out of the prison, he felt a sudden warmth in his chest and turned to Fang, grasping her hand unexpectedly. She looked at him, her expression softening.

    ¡°Let¡¯s stay like this for a while,¡± Alam murmured, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his usual bravado.

    Fang smiled, amusement flickering in her eyes as she glanced down at their interlocked fingers. ¡°Alright, but don¡¯t keep me too long. I¡¯ve got a reputation to maintain.¡±

    Alam sighed deeply. ¡°Let¡¯s discuss this later. I¡¯m... kind of tired.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Fang replied, her face still gentle. She watched him with concern for a moment before glancing away, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

    alam look at fang walk away. he then look at sky at window, and he mutter to himself ¡°damn.. i miss eleanor¡±

    The next day, Alam reached out to Nalin, inviting her to meet him at a hotel. When she responded, a gentle smile graced her face as she typed.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll meet you at the hotel you mentioned. What time should we meet?¡±

    ¡°At¡­ hmm¡­ faster is better,¡± Alam replied, eager to see her.

    Nalin glanced at her watch. ¡°Then let¡¯s meet now! The longer we wait, the more we waste the day. Shall we?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam agreed, his excitement palpable.

    Once they arrived at the hotel, Nalin led him to a secluded table tucked away in a corner. The quiet atmosphere was a stark contrast to the bustling city outside. Her nerves were evident as she fidgeted slightly, unsure of how to navigate this more intimate setting.

    ¡°What do you think? Am I a bad person?¡± Alam asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

    Nalin blinked, then chuckled softly. ¡°That¡¯s quite the opening line. Are you fishing for compliments?¡± Her cheeks flushed slightly. ¡°No, not at all. You¡¯ve been¡­ good to me. You care for me, protect me. A bad person wouldn¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Alam murmured, then, with a completely straight face, curled up on the nearby bed. ¡°Pat my head, please?¡±

    Nalin stared at him for a moment, a mix of surprise and amusement on her face. ¡°Are you serious?¡±

    ¡°Completely,¡± Alam deadpanned, his eyes twinkling.

    Nalin laughed, shaking her head. She leaned over and gently patted his head. ¡°Here you go¡­ your royal head-patting session.¡±

    ¡°No¡­ I mean pat my head,¡± Alam corrected, taking her hand and guiding it to the proper spot. ¡°Like this.¡±

    Surprise flickered across her face, followed by a wider smile. ¡°Oh! I see. You want the full head-pat experience.¡± She began to pat his head more firmly, but still gently. ¡°Is this better, your Majesty?¡±

    ¡°Ahh¡­¡± Alam sighed dramatically. ¡°Much better. I feel¡­ soothed. Like a well-groomed house cat.¡±

    ¡°Are you happy now? Do you like it when I pat your head?¡± Nalin asked, her voice light and teasing.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ therapeutic,¡± he replied, his eyes half-closed. ¡°Like a tiny, repetitive massage for my skull.¡±

    Nalin laughed, continuing the gentle pats. After a moment, Alam reached out and gently took her hand, pulling her down to sit beside him on the bed. ¡°We¡¯re just cuddling¡­ nothing scandalous is happening,¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam confirmed, feeling a sense of peace wash over him.

    As Nalin nestled against him, she felt a gentle kiss on her forehead, causing her to lean in even more. ¡°Do you like it when I cling to you like this?¡± she whispered.

    ¡°I like being seen as a peaceful figure,¡± Alam replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to be peaceful for you,¡± Nalin promised softly, her head resting on his shoulder. ¡°I won¡¯t hurt you or make you uncomfortable. I promise.¡±

    ¡°Ahh¡­ you¡­¡± Alam began, shifting the conversation. ¡°So, there¡¯s a school in this city. Do you want to try joining high school?¡±

    Nalin blinked, surprised. ¡°You mean like¡­ adult high school?¡±

    ¡°Hmm? Hehe, I know you¡¯re mature beyond your years, but it¡¯s normal for someone your age to join high school,¡± Alam explained.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ I can¡¯t deny that,¡± Nalin said, her expression thoughtful. ¡°When you put it that way, it doesn¡¯t seem weird. I¡¯m an adult now, after all.¡±

    ¡°Well, maybe you¡¯ll find friends your age there,¡± Alam suggested, hopeful.

    Her eyes lit up at the thought. ¡°You¡¯re right! It¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve had friends. You¡¯re the only one I talk to!¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam said, nodding. ¡°So¡­¡±

    Nalin sat on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap, waiting for him to decide when they would check if the school accepted adult students.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± Alam hesitated, struggling to find the words.

    Nalin noticed his silence and sat up straighter, looking directly into his eyes. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Never mind¡­ Oh! Let¡¯s go shopping for your school necessities,¡± he said, changing the subject.

    The prospect of shopping ignited excitement in Nalin. ¡°Oh, I love shopping! What do we need?¡±

    ¡°Writing books, pencils, pens¡­ and ammo. RPG rounds¡­ and arrows, heh,¡± Alam joked with a playful grin.

    Her eyes widened in concern. ¡°Wait, do we really need those? Isn¡¯t it dangerous to fire those in a building?¡±

    Alam burst into laughter. ¡°Just kidding! We don¡¯t need military equipment. Just the usual school stuff.¡±

    Nalin sighed in relief, her initial worry melting away. ¡°Oh good! You had me worried there for a moment. If it¡¯s just books and supplies, shopping will be a breeze!¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam agreed. ¡°But I¡¯m a bit concerned about your bear,. Do you think he¡¯ll be sad when you leave the taiga?¡±

    Nalin¡¯s expression shifted to one of concern. ¡°Oh no¡­ I didn¡¯t think of that. he might get lonely without me around. He¡¯s used to having me by his side.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Alam said, patting her head gently, a genuine smile on his face. ¡°Well, anyway, let¡¯s go shopping, shall we?¡±

    And with that, they set off, hand in hand, ready to embrace whatever shopping adventures lay ahead.

 Chapter 52 Facade

    A day later, the majestic Qinling Mountains loomed in the distance, their snow-capped peaks piercing the clear blue sky. While winter had fully embraced the north, Xi¡¯an lingered in the bittersweet transition between autumn and winter, the leaves still clinging to their vibrant hues.

    Alam stepped onto the balcony of the Wanderer Base early that morning, the crisp air filling his lungs as the sun began to rise, casting golden rays across the tranquil landscape. The fresh scent of autumn leaves lingered, a reminder of the seasonal change.

    ¡°Hello there,¡± came a soft voice behind him.

    Alam turned to see Fang approaching, her movements silent and graceful, like a whisper on the wind. ¡°Good morning, Alam. It is a beautiful day, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Alam hesitated, then took a sip of his coffee, feeling the warmth seep into him. ¡°Can I ask you something?¡±

    Fang nodded, her warm eyes encouraging him to continue.

    ¡°Do I¡­ am I a warmonger?¡±

    Fang took a moment, choosing her words carefully. ¡°You are not a warmonger, Alam. You are a war leader, fighting for what you believe in. You¡¯re not a ruthless warlord; you fight for a cause you believe in.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­¡± Alam sighed, contemplating her words. ¡°You know, when I was stranded in the taiga, I noticed our confederacy has a bad reputation in some areas. We need to do something about it, especially as the war drags on.¡±

    Fang¡¯s expression shifted to one of understanding. ¡°It¡¯s true our confederacy isn¡¯t always viewed positively. Many see us as bloodthirsty conquerors, oblivious to the consequences of our actions. But we must consider the perspectives of those who¡¯ve lived under our rule. Many have seen an increase in their standard of living and a more secure social system since we took control.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know it sounds clich¨¦, but we must exploit that,¡± Alam replied, a spark of determination igniting within him. ¡°We need to show them our transformation, put on a propaganda show. And we should play rough¡ªexploit the injustices in Red Nation culture and their segregation. That¡¯ll make the Blood Khaganate soldiers start questioning their overlords.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Fang said, her eyes brightening. ¡°We must use propaganda to our advantage. Highlighting our positive changes will soften public perception. We can expose the Red Nation''s shortcomings and create dissent among their ranks, weakening their grip and creating fertile ground for our advancement.¡±

    ¡°Good. Do it then,¡± Alam instructed, a sense of urgency in his voice.

    ¡°I¡¯ll prioritize it, Alam. I¡¯ll ensure our propaganda machine runs at full speed, showcasing our strengths while highlighting the Red Nation¡¯s weaknesses.¡±

    ¡°By the way, what did you think about Inat yesterday?¡± Alam asked, shifting the topic.

    ¡°Yesterday''s conversation was enlightening,¡± Fang replied thoughtfully. ¡°It was interesting to see his perspective on war and the Red Nation''s chances of victory. There was a hint of sadness when he spoke of his country and army.¡±

    ¡°True. And about our rumor plan¡ªI gained more insight into the Blood Khaganate from him. But before we make a move, I want to meet our second Blood Khaganate general, Qilong, who¡¯s currently our prisoner.¡±

    ¡°I see. But what do you hope to gain by meeting her?¡± Fang asked, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Ha! You¡¯ll see. Let¡¯s go meet her in the prison.¡±

    ¡°Very well, then,¡± Fang replied, intrigued. ¡°I¡¯m curious about what you have in mind.¡±

    As they approached the heavily guarded prison, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Wanderer soldiers stood ramrod straight, weapons gleaming. The iron gates looked like they could withstand a siege (or at least a very determined toddler).

    Alam nodded to the guards, who escorted them inside. Qilong¡¯s cell was near Inat¡¯s, close enough for them to swap war stories over the prison¡¯s surprisingly thin walls.

    Inside, Qilong sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, like she was waiting for afternoon tea. Her face was a mask of indifference, but her eyes held a glint that suggested she could probably field-strip a rifle blindfolded while reciting poetry.

    ¡°Hello. Do you remember me?¡± Alam asked, plopping into the chair opposite her.

    ¡°Yes, I remember you,¡± Qilong replied, her voice as dry as a desert wind. ¡°You¡¯re the one who keeps interrupting my retirement.¡±

    ¡°Good. I¡¯m here about your possible release. The Red Army¡¯s having a bit of a¡­ chilly time in the steppes. I might arrange a parley.¡±

    Qilong raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. ¡°A parley? How¡­ charming. I assume you don¡¯t expect me to knit you a peace treaty?¡±

    ¡°Depends. Can you knit?¡± Alam grinned. ¡°Anyway, if we do this parley thing, I¡¯d be willing to¡­ you know¡­ let you out.¡±

    ¡°Let me make something clear,¡± Qilong said, her voice dropping a few degrees. ¡°I will not be anyone¡¯s puppet. I negotiate on my terms.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough. Hey, just out of curiosity, are you older than Inat?¡± Alam asked, leaning forward conspiratorially. ¡°He strikes me as the type who peaked in his twenties.¡±

    Qilong scoffed. ¡°Inat is a child. I¡¯ve been fighting wars since he was still playing with toy soldiers¡ªmade of actual lead, back in my day.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°I see. And yet, I¡¯ve technically defeated both of you,¡± Alam said with a playful shrug.

    ¡°Luck,¡± Qilong retorted. ¡°Pure, unadulterated luck. Give me a proper army, and I¡¯ll show you what real strategy looks like.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of strategy, Inat mentioned General Wu. What was he like?¡±

    At Wu¡¯s name, a flicker of something that might have been sadness crossed Qilong¡¯s face. ¡°Wu was¡­ a force of nature. A brilliant strategist. And a terrible cook. His camp stew could strip paint.¡±

    ¡°And what led to his demise?¡± Alam pressed, keen to unravel the layers of her thoughts.

    ¡°His downfall came from betrayal, committed by one of his advisors. A tragic end for a great leader. It serves as a lesson to us¡ªto remain vigilant and never trust blindly,¡± she explained, her tone somber.

    ¡°Classic¡ªbetrayed by a friend. But what caused that betrayal? Pride? Greed? Envy?¡± Alam asked, his curiosity unabated.

    ¡°A mix of all three. The traitor envied Wu''s fame and influence, driven by greed and ambition, believing he deserved Wu''s position. His pride blinded him to the consequences of his actions,¡± Qilong replied, her voice steady.

    ¡°I notice the cultures of the Blood Khaganate and the Red Nation differ. It seems to me the Blood Khaganate acts as the Red Nation¡¯s strike dog. Am I wrong?¡±

    ¡°You are partially correct. The Blood Khaganate has been a loyal ally to the Red Nation, but we are culturally distinct. We value strength, loyalty, and courage above all else, while the Red Nation is more technologically advanced,¡± she explained.

    Alam paused, contemplating her words. ¡°So, those who betrayed General Wu are still around?¡±

    ¡°Unfortunately, yes. The traitors remain among the top officials of the Red Nation¡ªpowerful figures known for their treachery,¡± Qilong said, sadness creeping into her tone.

    ¡°Is Zion among them?¡± Alam asked, his interest piqued.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Qilong confirmed. ¡°General Zion is one of those responsible for Wu¡¯s demise¡ªa cunning and ruthless individual.¡±

    ¡°Do you remain loyal to Zion?¡± Alam pressed.

    ¡°No. I owe him no loyalty. We may be allies, but I do not trust him,¡± she replied, a hint of bitterness in her eyes.

    ¡°Then why fight for him?¡± Alam challenged.

    ¡°I fight for the Red Nation, not for Zion. I have dedicated my life to my country and will defend it at all costs,¡± Qilong stated firmly.

    ¡°Wanderers were once vassals to Zion¡¯s interests. But we are not slaves; we are free men. That¡¯s why I rebelled. You should know that the main goal of forming the Wanderers and the Blood Khaganate was to pave the way for Zion to conquer Europe.¡±

    Qilong regarded him with skepticism. ¡°I understand the history, but it was a necessary alliance that laid the foundation for our growth.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re okay with Zion¡¯s future conquest of Europe? That would lead to a fourth world war,¡± Alam warned.

    ¡°Zion¡¯s ambitions are indeed a threat, but you must realize that the Wanderers and their allies are also powerful enough to defend against him,¡± she replied, her tone sharp.

    ¡°Ah, so you¡¯re willing to let my Wanderers die first. My gut feeling was right; my rebellion is justified,¡± Alam retorted, his voice rising.

    ¡°Your rebellion is misguided. You claim to fight for freedom, but all you¡¯ve done is bring death and destruction. The true villains are the Wanderers, who only seek to create chaos,¡± Qilong shot back.

    Alam chuckled darkly. ¡°Well, the war isn¡¯t over yet. I¡¯d rather die facing bullets than let the enemy come kill me.¡±

    Qilong sat across from Alam, her expression calm and unreadable, like the surface of a still lake. ¡°If you insist on dying on the battlefield, then you will be granted your wish,¡± she began, her voice low and measured. ¡°But let me ask you this: what good can come of it? Why waste your life on a pointless rebellion when you and your wanderers could find peace with the Red Nation? Why die for a hopeless cause?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not pointless, and it¡¯s not hopeless,¡± Alam replied, his conviction growing stronger with each word. ¡°Every breath is a chance. They¡¯re using the Wanderers as scapegoats, and I will show the world the truth.¡±

    Qilong remained silent for a moment, her gaze unwavering as she contemplated his words. Leaning back slightly, she replied, ¡°I understand your conviction. You believe in your cause, but I think you¡¯re mistaken. The Wanderer Rebellion is indeed futile, and your efforts will only lead to more chaos and bloodshed.¡±

    Alam smirked, leaning forward. ¡°But I¡¯m the one making things happen faster. Without my rebellion, perhaps you would be the one creating chaos in this region. Am I right?¡±

    Qilong frowned, her tone sharpening. ¡°You assume too much. Your rebellion has already caused significant harm. You think yourself a hero, but you¡¯re just a foolish idealist, blinded by your own convictions.¡±

    ¡°Ha! The dice have been thrown. Want to make a bet? I¡¯ll force Zion to the negotiating table,¡± Alam challenged, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

    ¡°A foolish bet,¡± Qilong scoffed. ¡°Zion doesn¡¯t negotiate. It¡¯s domination or annihilation. You¡¯ll learn that eventually, child.¡±

    ¡°You still don¡¯t see my last trick,¡± Alam teased, his confidence unwavering.

    Qilong narrowed her eyes, a slight smile tugging at her lips. ¡°Your last trick? You¡¯re intriguing, I¡¯ll give you that. What¡¯s your plan?¡±

    With a flourish, Alam raised his hand, revealing a small recorder. ¡°I¡¯ve recorded both your and Inat¡¯s conversations with me. This will be a game changer at the next conference.¡±

    Qilong¡¯s expression darkened, contempt flashing in her eyes. ¡°And how do you intend to use these recordings? You think revealing our dialogue will sway the world¡¯s opinion in favor of the Wanderers? If you believe that, you¡¯re even more naive than I thought.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t judge merely by the surface. It¡¯s not over yet, but I won¡¯t spoil it. I¡¯ll give your mind a chance to wonder,¡± Alam replied cryptically.

    Qilong¡¯s gaze remained intense, her expression stern. ¡°You are ambitious and cunning, but your plan is still a mystery. I¡¯m curious about your intentions with those recordings.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well, thanks for your time. Farewell¡­ woman,¡± Alam said, standing to leave.

    ¡°Farewell, child,¡± Qilong retorted, her chin raised in a scornful dismissal.

    As Alam exited the chamber alongside Fang, he turned to her. ¡°So, what do you think of that woman?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s cold and aloof, like most Red Nation commanders,¡± Fang replied, her voice thoughtful. ¡°Sharp and analytical, a formidable opponent. But she¡¯s also arrogant and condescending, with a clear disdain for the Wanderers.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s normal. Serve her something fine for today,¡± Alam said with a chuckle. ¡°Anyway, do you have a better understanding of our opponent, Zion?¡±

    ¡°Yes, much better now. Zion is dangerous and cunning, a tyrant with limitless hunger for power. He¡¯ll do whatever it takes to achieve his goals, no matter the cost. We must be cautious and prepared for anything,¡± Fang warned.

    ¡°Exactly. His throne is illegitimate,¡± Alam added, a smirk playing on his lips.

    Fang¡¯s eyes widened in realization. ¡°Ah, I see. His reign is indeed questionable; he seized power through a coup and tightened his grip with an iron fist. His rule has led to oppression and suffering.¡±

    ¡°Exactly! We¡¯ll use that spicy detail for our rumor project,¡± Alam declared, excitement bubbling within him.

    ¡°But how do we spread the word about his illegitimate rule without revealing our hand? We don¡¯t want our plans to backfire,¡± Fang cautioned.

    ¡°The rumor might be less effective in Red Nation territory, but it could work in Blood Khaganate circles. If Qilong¡¯s voice indicates she¡¯s not loyal to Zion, it¡¯ll make other officers think twice,¡± Alam strategized.

    ¡°Right! That could sow doubt among the ruling elites and even lead them to question their loyalty to Zion. It might cause some to break away,¡± Fang noted, her enthusiasm growing.

    ¡°But it¡¯s risky,¡± Alam warned. ¡°We have to be careful, especially without knowing how the Red Nation will react.¡±

    ¡°I know. This rumor will strike hard if their morale is low, especially after we crush their army in the steppes. That¡¯ll be the perfect time to spread it,¡± Alam concluded.

    ¡°Timing is crucial,¡± Fang agreed. ¡°We can¡¯t underestimate how important it is to strike at the right moment for maximum impact.¡±

 Chapter 53 Cold Blood

    The Red Army was tired. Really tired. Winter had been brutal, and now they were finally marching back to Erdenet Base, hoping to find some rest. Every step was a struggle, their breath puffing out in white clouds. They were worried about ambushes, but they just wanted to get back to their friends.

    Erdenet was covered in snow, a beautiful white city against a bright blue sky. The sun was out, but it didn''t do much to warm them as they trudged through the snow.

    Inside the base, Hazel found Patrick leaning against a wall, looking completely exhausted. He was staring off into space, like he was trying to solve the world''s problems in his head.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Hazel said. ¡°Heard the southern army took a beating. The rest of us got off easy.¡±

    Patrick just nodded, still lost in thought.

    ¡°Seriously, take a break,¡± Hazel said, half-joking. ¡°Those upgrades look like they¡¯re really helping.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Patrick mumbled, still distracted. He seemed uneasy, like something was bothering him.

    ¡°Take care, man. The big boss is planning something to deal with the enemy¡¯s hit-and-run attacks. We¡¯re settling in for the winter,¡± Hazel said.

    ¡°Sure, but if the enemy¡¯s going guerrilla, how do we fight back?¡± Patrick finally met Hazel¡¯s gaze.

    Hazel shrugged, thinking it over. ¡°I heard General Sima wants to set up a new unit for night warfare. That could help us counter their moves.¡±

    ¡°Sounds smart,¡± Patrick said, his interest piqued. ¡°A night unit could be a game changer.¡±

    ¡°Are you in?¡± Hazel asked, a playful challenge in her tone.

    ¡°Absolutely! This is my shot to prove myself,¡± Patrick said, excitement lighting up his face. He was ready to dive into the darkness and take on the enemy.

    ¡°Good luck, then,¡± Hazel said with a nod. ¡°Can¡¯t wait to see you make the enemy regret ever starting this war.¡±

    Patrick grinned, his fighting spirit soaring. ¡°I¡¯ll make them pay for their mistakes.¡±

    Later, in the workshop, Panji spotted Hazel and strolled over with a smile. ¡°Hey, man! Glad you made it!¡±

    ¡°Good to see you too,¡± Hazel replied. ¡°What¡¯s your plan now? Joining the defense or volunteering for the counter unit?¡±

    Panji thought for a moment. It was a choice between staying inside and potentially getting bored to death or going outside and potentially getting actually dead. Tough call. ¡°I think I¡¯ll go for the counter unit. It¡¯s riskier, but it sounds way more rewarding.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve got guts! You¡¯re going to face a literal demon in the winter steppes,¡± Hazel teased, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Yeah, but that¡¯s the point! We¡¯ve got to confront evil head-on. If we don¡¯t, we¡¯ll never take it down,¡± Panji replied, determination shining in his eyes.

    ¡°Good luck with that,¡± Hazel chuckled. ¡°I¡¯d rather hide behind the tanks. The middle and northern armies will keep pushing until we hit the Altai Mountains.¡±

    Panji nodded, his mind racing. ¡°I¡¯ll need all the luck I can get, especially if we¡¯re up against a literal demon. We need to hit their stronghold hard and fast.¡±

    ¡°Think their base is in the mountains?¡± Hazel asked, intrigued.

    ¡°Definitely. The demons have their fortress in the Altai Mountains, where they stash their supplies and plan their attacks. That¡¯s where we need to strike to break their defenses,¡± Panji explained confidently.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Hazel frowned, recalling the demons¡¯ odd behavior. ¡°But it¡¯s strange¡ªthey fought hard in the south but just let the northern and middle armies roll through without much resistance.¡±

    Panji thought about it, realizing Hazel had a point. ¡°Yeah, that is weird. I wonder what they¡¯re up to.¡±

    ¡°Once we hit the Altai Mountains, the road to Europe will open up,¡± Hazel said, finishing her drink.

    ¡°Right. Getting to Europe is the goal,¡± Panji agreed, downing his drink in one gulp.

    ¡°Do you think once the True Horde is gone, the Red Army will turn its sights on Europe?¡± Hazel asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Panji chuckled, considering the question. ¡°I mean, taking down the demons is priority number one, but once they¡¯re out of the way, what¡¯s stopping the Red Army from expanding? It could lead to World War IV.¡±

    ¡°Yikes,¡± Hazel said, glancing out at the endless snow.

    ¡°Yeah, but I believe in our army. We¡¯re the force of justice. This war won¡¯t be easy, but we¡¯re ready. The supreme leader believes in us,¡± Yu chimed in, joining the conversation.

    ¡°True. But after this mission, I might think about retiring,¡± Hazel said casually, a hint of seriousness creeping in.

    Yu frowned at that. ¡°It¡¯s too early to think about retirement! There¡¯s too much at stake. After this war, we could see our living standards rise, maybe even get our own land.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about status,¡± Hazel replied, smirking. ¡°I was a gangster in Hong Kong. I learned the hard way that pleasure is... subjective.¡±

    Yu laughed, her expression softening. ¡°A gangster? You¡¯re quite the character, my fellow tanker. Do you really want to go back to that life after the war?¡±

    ¡°Hey, if the True Horde is gone, I can take advantage of the situation. Flying Dragon 2.0 under my leadership sounds perfect,¡± Hazel mused, her eyes gleaming with ambition.

    Yu took a sip from her drink, eyeing him with a mix of amusement and concern. ¡°Just remember, life as a gangster doesn¡¯t usually end well.¡±

    ¡°I have no regrets,¡± Hazel declared, fierce determination in her voice.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s make sure we survive this war, and we¡¯ll see what the future holds,¡± Yu replied, raising her drink in a toast to the uncertain path ahead.

    With the Red Army marching steadily toward the Altai Mountains, the snow deepened. Yu furrowed her brow as she studied Hazel. ¡°What are you thinking? Planning to become a gangster again after the war? But do you really think life can go back to normal? All the gangs will be gone, including the True Horde. I¡¯m not sure Flying Dragon 2.0 can survive.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? Are we supposed to live under Red Nation influence as criminals?¡± Hazel shot back, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly it,¡± Yu replied, her tone serious. ¡°Our commander has declared he¡¯ll wipe out all criminal organizations post-war, including ours. The supreme leader wants to create a new nation free from corruption, where everyone is equal. No gangs allowed.¡±

    ¡°Funny, I heard North America¡¯s Red Nation is implementing segregation and various gangs,¡± Hazel shot back with a smirk.

    Yu chuckled. ¡°Well, the North American Red Nation was established a long time ago. Yes, they have gangs, but it¡¯s nothing compared to the chaos we have in Asia. Our gangs are steeped in murder, drugs, and trafficking. Over there? Not as dangerous. They¡¯re more like a neighborhood watch gone wrong.¡±

    ¡°I see. I guess I¡¯ll never understand until I see whole America with my own eyes,¡± Hazel mused,

    Yu laughed, her eyes sparkling. ¡°you will love to go to America after this war. to experience their culture, try their food, and meet their beautiful ai women.¡±

    As November arrived, the Red Nation had consolidated its control over most of Mongol territory and the northern steppes. But a stalemate held along the China and Korean borders.

    In Zion¡¯s command center, he studied the map. ¡°Good progress in the north, but this stalemate is unacceptable. We need to break it.¡±

    A Red General spoke. ¡°We control 70% of their territory. The south took heavy losses. Their last stand will be in the Altai Mountains.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll crush them there,¡± Zion said. ¡°But we can¡¯t let them entrench themselves. We need to keep the pressure on.¡±

    ¡°Should we focus on Europe or the rebels first?¡± the General asked.

    ¡°The rebels are a thorn in our side. We deal with them first,¡± Zion decided. ¡°But their mountain strongholds won¡¯t be easy. We¡¯ll need Sima¡¯s new unit and the Strato Cannon.¡±

    Suddenly, an officer rushed in. ¡°Sir! A large force of tanks is approaching from the west! Golden Caravan markings! They¡¯re heading to support the rebels!¡±

    Zion¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Golden Caravan? This changes everything. Where are they?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve passed Istanbul, moving through Georgia, now in Bukhara. They¡¯re clearly heading for Central Asia.¡±

    ¡°They can¡¯t reach the rebels,¡± Zion said, his voice hardening. ¡°We need to intercept them. What forces do we have available?¡±

    ¡°Some elite units in Russia, and scattered remnants of the Blood Khaganate,¡± the General replied. ¡°But they¡¯re isolated.¡±

    Zion considered this. ¡°We can¡¯t let them link up. This is a priority. Contact the Emerald League in Persia. Offer them whatever they want. We need their mercenaries, their weapons. This alliance¡­ it must be broken.¡±

    In the heart of the tank workshop, Chrome''s voice echoed through the clanging metal and hissing steam. "To be a hero, you must be looking for trouble," he said, his eyes gleaming with a mix of mischief and wisdom.

    Panji, leaning against a stack of crates, smirked. "Do we just look like a tiny speck of dust in the universe?" he bantered back.

    Chrome chuckled, his laughter bouncing off the steel walls. "Alright, smart ass, enough with the jokes. Why are you here? Why aren''t you content with your current title?"

    Panji stood up, his red shades glinting in the dim light. "I am the answer to all your prayers," he declared with a grin.

    Chrome raised an eyebrow, his cape fluttering in the winter wind. "What the heck do you mean?"

    "When Zion is gone, I will become the ruler of the free world and stop the war," Panji said, his grin widening.

    Chrome''s eyes widened in surprise. "Dang, boy, you''ve got big dreams, huh? All the Justice members are satisfied being petty lords overseas. Once a lowly gang member, now a ruler. But you, you''ve got big plans. You''re going to die for sure."

    Panji shrugged, his grin unwavering. "Yeah, sure. Anyway, nice new jaw."

    Chrome rubbed his chin, the new skin smooth and seamless. "Ahh, this? Yeah, I''m now the ruler of the Eastern Realm. They had the tech to give me a new face."

    Chrome then continue. "But Maybe. But even specks can cause avalanches." He finally looked up, his new jaw gleaming in the workshop light. "So, you''re joining Sima''s unit?"

    "Someone has to deal with those demons," Panji said. "Besides¡­ I have a score to settle."

    Chrome nodded slowly, a serious look on his face. The news of the Golden Caravan¡¯s approach had cast a long shadow over the base. This war was about to get a lot bigger.

 Chapter 54 Dice has been thrown

    Meanwhile, in the west, as the True Horde forces scattered across the steppes, they stumbled upon various hidden bunkers from the pre-war era. Many of these had been repurposed as bandit hideouts.

    As Alam defeated the bandits, some of them chose to join his ranks, revealing the locations of particular bunkers populated solely by windup girls. Unlike ordinary windup girls, these had developed their own society and achieved a level of independence. Intrigued by this unique community, Alam decided to explore the fascinating site.

    Navigating through the dimly lit subterranean city, Alam felt the air thick with the hum of machinery and the faint scent of oil. Flanked by his escort of infantry fighting vehicles (IFVs), he moved cautiously through the maze of concrete and shadows, his mind focused on gathering intel about the pre-war bunker facility.

    As he rounded a corner, he spotted her¡ªa doll with striking white hair, standing serenely beside the underground street.

    ¡°Hey, you have nice hair,¡± Alam said, breaking the silence.

    The doll, Croque, turned to him, her expression calm yet curious. ¡°Well, umm, thank you. What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°I just want to ask you something. What¡¯s the most vulnerable part of a tank?¡± Alam inquired, his tone casual but laced with urgency.

    Croque tilted her head, considering his question. ¡°Tanks have various weaknesses depending on their design. Generally, the tracks are vulnerable to attacks from below, and explosive force can damage them. Other weak points include the turret ring, the barrel of the main gun, and the engine compartment.¡±

    Alam nodded, absorbing her insights as he contemplated the strategic implications of this newfound knowledge. ¡°What happens if something gets stuck in the barrel when the tank is about to fire?¡±

    ¡°If you block the barrel of a tank''s main gun, the explosion''s energy gets redirected back inside the tank. This could damage the gun breech and possibly harm the crew. It would be catastrophic for the tank,¡± she explained, her tone matter-of-fact.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Alam said with a smirk. ¡°What if we mixed something like superglue with sticky mud and launched it into the barrel? Ridiculous, right? But would it work?¡±

    Croque laughed lightly. ¡°Actually, a mixture like that could be effective. If you can clog the barrel, it would prevent the tank from firing altogether. It sounds silly, but it could jam the gun.¡±

    ¡°Can you make that mud launcher?¡± Alam asked, a spark of excitement in his eyes. ¡°I want to envision it as an anti-tank weapon!¡±

    ¡°Hmm, that¡¯ll be tricky to design. Getting the mud mixture right is one thing; creating a reliable launcher is another. But sure, I think I can come up with a design,¡± Croque replied.

    ¡°I want to order a thousand of them,¡± Alam declared, his enthusiasm infectious.

    Croque¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, and she chuckled. ¡°A thousand mud launchers? That¡¯s quite the order! But if you¡¯re serious, I can certainly design them. Of course, there will be a price.¡±

    ¡°Gold will do,¡± Alam said with a nod. ¡°Just make sure to mix in some chemicals to improve the mud¡¯s effectiveness.¡±

    ¡°A chemical-enhanced mud launcher? Now that¡¯s an interesting concept,¡± Croque mused, taking her task seriously. ¡°And gold? You know how to make a girl happy. But let¡¯s make sure the design works before you hand over the payment.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Here¡¯s my contact info, and here¡¯s your first payment,¡± Alam said, handing her a gold coin and an ID card. ¡°Call me when you have progress.¡±

    Croque accepted the coin with a smile. ¡°Thanks! I¡¯ll get to work on the design and keep you updated.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re a woman?¡± Alam asked, taken aback by her appearance.

    ¡°Yes¡­ is that a problem?¡± Croque replied, a hint of confusion in her voice.

    Alam rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. ¡°I just didn¡¯t expect it. You look¡­ hmm¡­ a bit unnatural.¡±

    Croque laughed lightly, unfazed. ¡°I know I look different. I¡¯m a Doll¡ªan android created by Svarog Heavy Industries. We¡¯re designed for labor, not socializing. Some find us unconventional.¡±

    ¡°Ah, Svarog? Aren¡¯t they the same ones who made the Windup Girl?¡± Alam asked, intrigued.

    ¡°Yes, they¡¯re a leading robotics company. The Windup Girl is from another company, but we¡¯re all designed for industrial labor. Svarog has made incredible advancements in robotics,¡± Croque explained.

    ¡°Should I contact your ¡®master¡¯ first, or are you free to make decisions?¡± Alam inquired, curious.

    Croque chuckled again. ¡°I¡¯m technically property of Svarog, but I have a degree of autonomy. My main duty is as a mechanical engineer, so my primary ¡®master¡¯ is my job.¡±

    ¡°I see. There¡¯s so much to ask, but I¡¯ll save it for later,¡± Alam said, sensing the need to focus.

    ¡°Anytime! I¡¯m always up for questions, especially about mechanics. Now, let me start on that mud launcher design,¡± Croque replied, her enthusiasm palpable.

    ¡°Great. Farewell then. Call me soon,¡± Alam said as he turned to leave, returning to his IFV.

    Croque waved goodbye, eager to begin her project.

    As mid-November approached, the clash between the True Horde and the Red Army intensified. The True Horde hid in underground bunkers across the steppes, launching coordinated raids that severely disrupted the Red Army¡¯s supply lines. Meanwhile, the Emerald League mercenaries agreed to intercept reinforcements from the Golden Caravan, but their efforts proved minimally effective. Many of the Golden Caravan¡¯s tanks continued to reach the True Horde¡¯s stronghold in the Altai Mountains.

    In his command center in California, Zion stared intently at the map spread out before him. ¡°It seems they¡¯re preparing for a big offensive. We must reinforce our supply lines and be ready to counter any attack. The Emerald League must keep disrupting their reinforcements. We need all the help we can get to defeat these rebels.¡±

    ¡°Sir, we received a strange transmission from Xian. It¡¯s from Alam, the leader of the True Horde rebels. He wants to talk,¡± a red officer reported.

    Zion raised an eyebrow, surprised. ¡°The leader of the True Horde rebels wants to talk? That¡¯s unexpected. Put the transmission on speaker.¡±

    ¡°Hey, you have nice hair,¡± Alam greeted, his tone light.

    ¡°Thank you. I take pride in my hair; it¡¯s a symbol of my rank and status. So, you¡¯re Alam, the leader of the True Horde rebels?¡± Zion replied, amused.

    ¡°Yes¡­ your former subordinate, I suppose,¡± Alam said.

    Zion studied him through the monitor. ¡°I see. You were my subordinate before the war broke out. It¡¯s strange that now you¡¯re leading a rebellion against me. What brought about this change?¡±

    ¡°Well, I know you¡¯re planning to expand into Europe, and we Wanderers were your first line of attack in Carpathia. You would¡¯ve thrown me to the wolves first, and I didn¡¯t like that,¡± Alam explained.

    Zion nodded slowly. ¡°I understand. You felt I was going to use you as a scapegoat. I will admit, you were part of my initial invasion strategy, but now you¡¯ve become my enemy. How do you justify that?¡±

    ¡°I have enough reasons to be a rebel. I want a truce. I¡¯ll disband the True Horde Confederacy and limit it to economic purposes only. Just don¡¯t point your big cannon at my city; it¡¯s intimidating,¡± Alam proposed.

    Zion considered this, a smile creeping onto his face. ¡°A truce and limiting your rebellion to economic purposes¡­ That¡¯s tempting. It would remove a major obstacle and let me focus on the rebels in Central Asia. But I have one condition.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Alam asked, intrigued.

    ¡°You must stop raiding my supply lines and destroying my tanks. If you can agree to those conditions, I¡¯ll consider your offer of truce,¡± Zion stated confidently.

    ¡°I accept to stop killing your men. Just that?¡± Alam replied, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Just that,¡± Zion confirmed. ¡°You¡¯ll stop attacking my supply lines and limit your rebellion. If you agree, your mercenaries and Wanderers will be free to do as they please, as long as they don¡¯t participate in military action against me.¡±

    ¡°Really? You don¡¯t want my head or something?¡± Alam asked, half-joking.

    Zion chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°No, I don¡¯t want your head. You were just a subordinate. If you agree to my conditions, I won¡¯t hold a grudge.¡±

    ¡°Seems weird, but I agree for now. Can I ask something?¡± Alam said.

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± Zion replied.

    ¡°What is this so-called Project Stratocannon?¡± Alam inquired.

    Zion¡¯s eyes gleamed with pride. ¡°Project Stratocannon is my pet project¡ªa superweapon I¡¯ve been developing for years. It has the potential to devastate any enemy position and clear the way for my troops. It¡¯s a secret, so I can¡¯t share too many details, but I¡¯m very proud of it.¡±

    ¡°Interesting¡­ And I want my new holdings in Central China, Korea, Altai Mountains, the Black Sea, Caucasus, and Carpathia to remain under my control. We¡¯ll also do a prisoner exchange, including your two Red Army generals,¡± Alam stated.

    Zion paused, considering. ¡°That¡¯s a fair trade. I will allow your control over those territories and agree to a prisoner exchange. As I said, your mercenaries and Wanderers are free, as long as they don¡¯t engage in military action against us.¡±

    ¡°Wow, you seem like a very agreeable man. What¡¯s your plan?¡± Alam asked, a wary smile on his face.

    Zion grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. ¡°My plan is to let you think I¡¯ve accepted these terms and allow you to get comfortable. Once I sense you¡¯ve let down

    alam nodded ¡°good luck with that¡± then the comm is turn off. and alam look at other monitor. showing zion location at the north america, ¡°i got you¡± alam mutterhimself

 Chapter 55 The Grid Colosseum

    Later at the grid colosseum on los angles, Nara, the amazon pretorian of Zion, stepped into the arena with her trademark wicked smile. "Oh wow, long time no see, darling~" she greeted Frema, a woman in a suit with striking purple hair.

    Frema grinned back, her voice dripping with nonchalance. "Hey, Nara! What are you up to?"

    "Oh, you know how it is. Recruiting more gladiators, same old same old. But I always have time for you, darling~" Frema replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

    Nara smirked and rolled her eyes playfully. "You''re such a flatterer, you know that?"

    "I can''t help it when I''m around you. You just bring out the flirt in me," Frema teased, tilting her head with a playful eyebrow raise.

    Nara chuckled, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Typical Frema, always making the ladies swoon."

    As the announcer began his speech, the giant monitor displayed the Grid Colosseum, filled with countless spectators eagerly awaiting the action. Frema glanced up, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Showtime, darling."

    "You ready to put on a show for the folks?" Nara asked, stretching her arms above her head, her muscles straining under her gladiator attire, excitement glinting in her eyes.

    "Always," Frema replied, cracking her knuckles with determination. "Let''s give these spectators a show they won''t forget~"

    "I''m down for that, darling. Let''s give them one hell of a performance," Nara said, flexing her muscles with a cocky smirk, the anticipation of the upcoming fight igniting a fire within her.

    Frema watched as Nara walked into the arena, a mix of anticipation and excitement coursing through her veins. "Good luck out there, darling," she called softly, her voice tinged with worry.

    "Don''t you worry about me~" Nara replied, throwing a carefree wink over her shoulder as she strode confidently into the arena, her eyes scanning the stands for any signs of danger. The energy in the air was electric, and the audience''s anticipation grew with each passing moment.

    The announcer''s voice boomed, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Grid Colosseum!" The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, echoing throughout the stadium.

    "We have a special treat for you today! Our first contestant is none other than the legendary Nara!" the announcer continued, and the crowd went wild, their excitement reaching a fever pitch. Frema smirked, knowing her friend was more than capable of handling anything the Colosseum threw at her.

    "And for this round, Nara will be competing in the Steel Pit!" the announcer declared, and the audience roared, sensing the brutal spectacle about to unfold.

    Nara stepped to the center of the Steel Pit, her eyes locked on the surrounding cage that encircled the arena. The tension was palpable, and the audience could feel it in their bones as they waited for the action to begin.

    As the sound of a horn echoed, signaling the start of the round, the audience fell silent. The seconds felt like minutes as the two opponents circled each other, studying each other''s movements. Finally, Nara struck first, her fist flying toward her opponent''s face in a powerful swing.

    The impact sent her opponent stumbling backward, clutching their face in pain. "Too slow, sweetheart," she taunted, taking advantage of the opportunity and rushing forward to deliver another blow.

    The tension built as Nara closed the distance, her muscles taut and her eyes focused. She followed up with a swift punch aimed straight at their stomach, then a knee to the face.

    After easily defeating her first two opponents, a massive monster truck rolled into the arena, circling the area. Behind it, steel pipes dropped, creating potential weapons for future fights. Inside the truck was a giant man with tribal tattoos, taunting and screaming as he hit the gas and jumped toward Nara.

    "Ladies and gentlemen! Let''s greet our favorite warrior... the Ball Crusher! Fredrick!" the announcer shouted as the giant man flexed his muscles, ripping his t-shirt to reveal a steel implant on his chest.

    The crowd cheered and applauded as Fredrick flexed, the air filled with excitement and anticipation. Nara smirked, her eyes glinting with determination as she sized up her new opponent. "Bring it on, big boy," she taunted, her voice carrying a hint of excitement.

    The giant man smirked, his eyes fixed on Nara like a predator locking onto its prey. He circled her slowly, muscles rippling under his skin, exuding power and danger. Nara kept a close eye on him, calculating her next move. She had dealt with bigger opponents before, but this guy was in a league of his own.

    "What''s taking you so long, big boy? Don''t tell me you''re afraid?" Nara feigned a yawn, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

    The man''s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening at her taunt. He let out a deep growl and charged forward, his massive frame moving with surprising speed. Nara sprang into action, timing her dodge perfectly and sidestepping at the last second, allowing him to barrel past her.

    The crowd gasped in surprise as Nara deftly dodged the giant man''s charge. Frema smiled, impressed by her friend''s quick reflexes and agility. The battle was just beginning, and Nara was ready to show everyone what she was made of.

    Fredrick picked up an iron pipe and hurled it at Nara. She dodged just in time, the metal narrowly missing her head and sending a shockwave through her body.

    "Damn, that was close!" she exclaimed, leaping back to create some distance between herself and the giant man, assessing the situation.

    The crowd inhaled sharply, a wave of anticipation washing over them as Nara narrowly avoided Fredrick''s attack. Frema bit her lip, her heart racing as she silently prayed for Nara''s safety.

    "You''re gonna have to do better than that, big guy," Nara retorted, her tone dripping with confidence. She was a skilled fighter and refused to be intimidated. Taking a moment to analyze Fredrick''s attack pattern, she prepared for his next move.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    Fredrick growled in irritation, clearly annoyed by Nara''s unwavering confidence. He swung the iron pipe again, this time in a wide arc, trying to catch her off guard.

    Nara easily dodged the swing, her reflexes honed from countless battles. A grin spread across her face as adrenaline surged through her. "Is that all you got, big guy? I''m barely breaking a sweat here!"

    The crowd cheered, clearly enjoying Nara''s display of skill. Frema felt a pang of envy¡ªshe wished she could be as fearless and badass as her friend.

    Fredrick gritted his teeth, his expression darkening at Nara''s taunts. He charged again, swinging the iron pipe wildly, his movements growing more erratic and desperate.

    Nara saw his frustration and exploited it, sidestepping his wild swings with ease. "You''re getting sloppy, big boy," she taunted, her smirk widening as she watched him grow more enraged.

    Dancing around his swings, Nara moved like a blur, toying with Fredrick and enjoying the power dynamic. "Come on, give me a challenge!" she laughed, her tone a mix of confidence and mockery.

    But then Fredrick kicked up dust and swung the pipe, landing a solid hit on Nara''s chest. The impact sent her flying a few meters back, but her gladiator bodysuit absorbed most of the blow.

    "Oof! Damn, that was a good swing," she wheezed, feeling the sting of the hit.

    The crowd gasped as Fredrick landed a solid blow. Frema gripped the railings, her heart racing as she watched Nara go down, silently praying for her friend''s safety.

    Fredrick grinned, satisfied with his hit, and moved toward Nara, his iron pipe ready for another strike. Nara groaned as she forced herself up, touching her bruised chest but relieved that nothing was broken. She glared at Fredrick, annoyance and determination etched on her face. Wiping a trickle of blood from her mouth, she smirked.

    "Lucky shot, big boy. But I''m not done yet," she declared, rolling her shoulders and preparing for the next round.

    The crowd watched with bated breath, their excitement reaching a peak as they sensed the fight was about to escalate.

    Nara took her stance as Fredrick aimed another swing at her head. In a swift backflip, she dodged the attack and grabbed a nearby rock from the monster truck. She hurled it at him, but he blocked it effortlessly.

    With a quick motion, Nara aimed for his jaw, landing a punch to his chest that struck his steel implant. The crowd erupted in cheers and gasps as Nara turned the tables, showcasing her skill and agility.

    "Damn, Nara''s got some moves!" Frema exclaimed, her admiration evident.

    But then Fredrick caught Nara in a crushing bear hug, lifting her off the ground. The crowd gasped in shock as Frema gripped the railing tighter, her heart racing as she watched her friend struggle.

    "Ack! Let go... you big... oaf!" Nara gasped, fighting against the man''s grip. She could feel her ribs protesting under the pressure, her lungs struggling for air.

    "You''re crushing me... you idiot..." she managed to say, clawing at his arms in a desperate attempt to escape.

    Frema watched, her heart in her throat, urging Nara silently to break free. "Come on, Nara, get out of there!" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

    Nara continued to struggle, her face turning red from the lack of oxygen. She could feel the man''s grip tightening, but her determination burned bright. "Damn... big... guy... let... me go..." she gasped, refusing to give in.

    Nara made a desperate move, spitting in the man''s eyes. The crowd gasped, then erupted in cheers as he momentarily staggered, stunned by the unexpected attack. Seizing the opportunity, Nara slammed her head into his forehead, creating a loud thud that echoed through the arena.

    "Aagh... damn!" she exclaimed, feeling the force reverberate through her skull. For a moment, the world went fuzzy, pain shooting through her head as the crowd roared with excitement.

    Now locked in a brutal brawl, Nara and the man exchanged hit after hit. Their breathing was ragged, sweat mingling with bruises and cuts on their faces. But neither seemed to care about the pain; they kept attacking, fists flying faster and harder with each punch, kicks and knees striking at any opening. It was a raw, ugly fight, devoid of finesse or technique.

    Nara finally landed a punch on the man''s chest implant, causing it to malfunction. He staggered back, trembling and smoking from the electric shock.

    "AAAGH! It hurts! Make it... stop!" he screamed, collapsing to the ground, convulsing and groaning in agony.

    The announcer''s voice boomed throughout the colosseum, adding to the drama. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a situation! The fight seems to be taking a dramatic turn!"

    The crowd gasped and murmured, their eyes darting between the fallen man and Nara, anticipation building. As the man continued to convulse, the announcer''s voice filled the arena again.

    "Ladies and gentlemen, it appears we have a winner! Nara, the gladiator, has emerged victorious!"

    Cheers and applause erupted from the crowd, some cheering for the fallen man, others for the victorious Nara. She took a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving as she looked down at the man below her, feeling a mix of satisfaction and relief at her victory.

    The sound of the crowd''s cheers filled her ears like a sweet symphony. But her attention was immediately drawn to Frema, who watched with wide eyes, a mix of awe and pride on her face.

    Frema saw the man''s convulsions slow and finally stop, taking a moment to process what had just happened before breaking into a wide smile. "Gods, that was intense... you okay, Nara?"

    She made her way toward the edge of the arena, worry still etched on her face as she looked up at her friend.

    Nara wiped a trickle of blood from her mouth and grinned weakly. "I''m fine... just a few bruises and scratches. Nothing major," she replied, her voice a little raspy from the battle. Despite her nonchalance, there was a hint of exhaustion in her eyes.

    Later, as Nara left the arena, the music for the next show began to play. She was taken to the med bay for treatment, and while there, she caught sight of the monitor displaying the announcer boasting about the impending World War IV, claiming the Red Nation would emerge victorious in the so-called holy war. The recruitment ads flashed across the screen, and Nara felt a wave of disgust wash over her.

    "More propaganda..." she muttered, her voice dripping with skepticism.

    Frema, watching the screens intently, frowned at the announcement. "Damn, I hate it when they start this nonsense. But hey, that''s how it works."

    Nara clenched her fists, anger and frustration bubbling inside her. "They always promise victory like it''s some grand prize. But they never show the cost of war¡ªthe devastation and suffering..."

    She shot a hard glance at Frema. "The lives and innocence lost... all for power and greed."

    Just then, the med crew finished treating Nara with impressive speed, thanks to their advanced technology that dried her wounds quickly with laser devices. She watched in awe as the medics worked, feeling the pain and soreness fade away.

    "This tech... it''s amazing. It gets better and faster every year," she said, her eyes wide as she looked down at her nearly healed body.

    Frema grinned, impressed. "You should see it on deeper wounds. They can regrow lost limbs and bring people back from the brink of death. It''s almost like magic."

    Nara''s eyes widened in disbelief. "Seriously? They can regrow limbs? That''s... insane!"

    She glanced down at her healed body again, her mind racing with the implications of such technology. "It almost seems too good to be true. I''ve seen a lot of tech before, but this... it''s like they''re playing gods."

    Frema nodded, a bitter edge to her voice. "That''s exactly what they''re doing. Playing gods, manipulating life and death. It sounds good in theory, but the reality is far more twisted. They do nothing without an agenda, and more often than not, it''s self-serving or downright sinister."

    She looked at the medics working on Nara, her expression hardening. "They have the power to do so much good, but most of the time, they choose not to. It''s maddening..."

    Nara stood up and put on her gladiator suit, which had been damaged in the earlier fight. She looked in the mirror, her mind swirling with mixed emotions.

    Meanwhile, among the spectators in the Grid Colosseum, a Wanderer spy lurked in the shadows, eyes keenly scanning the arena. They were waiting for the perfect moment to make their move, ready to tip the scales in this chaotic game.

    After the roar of the crowd subsided and the arena emptied, Nara returned to her duties as Zion''s Amazonian Praetorian bodyguard. But the thrill of the fight, the fleeting sense of control, couldn''t mask the underlying emptiness. Her days became a monotonous cycle: exercise, virtual world, repeat.

    The virtual world was a common escape for Red Nation citizens, the closest thing to freedom they could afford. It was quick, simple, accessible¡ªto those who could pay the price. Nara invested heavily, crafting avatars, becoming a hero in simulated adventures, even reliving her school days as a virtual gang member. Yet, none of it filled the void. In the cold light of reality, she remained a puppet, a feeling that clung to her like a second skin. Joining the Bastard Brigade, becoming a full-fledged soldier, felt like a step too far¡­ for now. So, she remained a gladiator, a star in a spectacle, waiting for something to change.

    One day, within the digital confines of a virtual paradise, Nara encountered Svat in his usual persona. ¡°Hey, Svat. Long time no see. What you do now?¡± Nara spoke first, her avatar a graceful princess.

    Svat, his avatar a burly humanoid bull, simply shrugged. ¡°Ehh nothing. Just living.¡±

    Nara chuckled. ¡°Yeah. Of course. You lazy ass.¡±

    Svat frowned, the expression somehow translating even through the bovine features of his avatar. ¡°Don¡¯t be like that. Everyone had own pace.¡±

    Nara rolled her eyes. ¡°Hah. Sure. Perhaps it¡¯s because of your Khagan heritage, isn¡¯t it? You guys just drunk, fight and fight. Hehe.¡±

    Svat crossed his virtual arms. ¡°It¡¯s nothing to do with my heritage. That kinda racist, you know¡­ thinking all same, just because some Khaganate soldier do warcrime is not like all of us warmonger.¡±

    Nara feigned a yawn. ¡°Sure¡­ anyway. Let¡¯s do something, Bull.¡±

    Svat nodded. ¡°That¡¯s more like it.¡±

    They dove into simulated racing games, then embarked on a virtual adventure reminiscent of classic Zelda games. After a while, Nara stretched her arms, her princess avatar mirroring the action. ¡°Ahh. I think that¡¯s that fun. But I must go¡­ you know. I had a job.¡± Nara winked. ¡°So I can¡¯t just play all day.¡±

    Svat brushed it off. ¡°Sure, a job. Smashing people in the arena. See you later.¡±

    Nara logged off, leaving Svat alone in the virtual paradise. He lingered for a moment, then, with a few keystrokes, transformed the idyllic landscape into a brutal battle server. The server''s name materialized in bold letters: ¡°Legacy of Genghis Khan.¡± Almost instantly, the virtual world filled with avatars of Blood Khaganate warriors, clad in simulated Mongol armor, their voices rising in a chorus of throat singing.

 Chapter 56 Maze War

    A week had passed since the skirmishes in the steppes dwindled to a tense pause, with only minor clashes between the Red Army and the true horde. In the command center, Zion leaned over a map, a red general standing by his side.

    ¡°Alam has released the two Blood Khaganate generals, Qilong and Inat. They¡¯re ready to serve again,¡± the general announced, a hint of triumph in his voice.

    Zion''s eyes sparkled with satisfaction. ¡°That¡¯s good news. Let them serve with honor. They¡¯ve proven themselves in battle before.¡±

    He glanced at the map again, tracing the lines of conflict. ¡°So, the war in the steppes has quieted. Only small skirmishes remain. Does this mean the truce is holding?¡±

    ¡°Our intel reports no major movements from the enemy. They seem to be digging in,¡± the general replied, a note of caution in his tone.

    ¡°Good. A truce holding is promising. But we must keep a vigilant watch on their movements. Let¡¯s not get complacent,¡± Zion warned, his brow furrowing.

    The red general cleared his throat. ¡°Our tank division has reached the northern lands, bypassing the northern Altai. We now surround the stronghold on two fronts.¡±

    Zion smiled, pride swelling in his chest. ¡°Excellent progress. Surrounding the stronghold will cut off their supply routes and weaken their position. We can¡¯t let them regroup.¡±

    ¡°Sir, will you attack first?¡± the general asked, a hint of apprehension in his voice.

    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s time to strike. The peace talks have run their course. The enemy is fortified, and we¡¯ll take advantage of that. A surprise attack is in order,¡± Zion declared, resolve dripping from his words.

    In the frosty embrace of the wintery north, Barnaul had transformed into a ghost town, its once-bustling streets now echoing with the whispers of the wind. The railway, a lifeline of supplies, had been secured, but the city itself was as empty as a politician''s promises. Both soldiers and civilians had skedaddled westward

    As the soldiers adapted to the harsh conditions¡ªdonning layers of wool and fur like fashion-forward yeti¡ªtheir spirits were high, fueled by the thrill of impending battle, Zion cautioned against underestimating the enemy

    The upcoming attack on the Altai region loomed like a snowstorm on the horizon, promising to be as challenging as trying to assemble IKEA furniture without the instructions. The terrain was a maze of rivers and ridges, a veritable obstacle course designed by a mischievous architect.

    but Zion remained confident in their numerical and firepower advantage, believing they could break through the enemy lines.

    Days later, as the middle and northern armies advanced toward the Altai Mountains, the red general reported, ¡°We¡¯re advancing quickly. No traps, no mines, and the bridges remain intact.¡±

    ¡°Unusual,¡± Zion remarked, furrowing his brow. ¡°A defensive line typically has traps and mines. They¡¯re likely preparing for something unexpected. We must remain cautious.¡±

    Twelve hours later, the red general reported again, ¡°Our vanguard has reached Gorno-Altaysk. The area is secure, but there¡¯s still no sign of the enemy or civilians.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s peculiar,¡± Zion said thoughtfully. ¡°Is there any sign of life?¡±

    ¡°Just wildlife. We¡¯ve seen some eagles and reindeer,¡± the general replied.

    ¡°Okay, so the city is devoid of life. Is there any sign of destruction?¡± Zion pressed.

    ¡°None, sir. The buildings are intact, and we haven¡¯t found any traps or mines,¡± the general answered.

    ¡°It seems the enemy has entirely evacuated. We must proceed carefully while scouting the area. They might be trying to lure us into a trap,¡± Zion cautioned.

    Three days later, the red general reported, ¡°We¡¯ve secured the eastern side of the Altai Mountains with minimal losses, but still no sign of the enemy or civilians.¡±

    ¡°Still the same,¡± Zion mused, nodding. ¡°This is highly unusual. Any signs of wildlife?¡±

    ¡°Occasionally, we see birds and reindeer,¡± the general replied.

    ¡°Okay, so you¡¯re seeing birds and reindeer occasionally. It¡¯s possible the enemy retreated to a more hidden area. Let¡¯s proceed with caution. We must take advantage of this opportunity,¡± Zion ordered.

    Just then, a red officer interrupted. ¡°Sir, we¡¯ve received a transmission from Xian. Alam wants to talk.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s see what he has to say. Put him on screen,¡± Zion replied, intrigued.

    On the monitor, Alam appeared, wrapped in a blanket. ¡°Hey, looks like you broke the truce. Don¡¯t you pity your men? It¡¯s freezing out here.¡±

    Zion chuckled. ¡°Alam, you broke the truce first. I¡¯ve kept my forces in check despite your provocations. But let¡¯s talk without pretense. Are you willing to surrender your land?¡±

    ¡°Well, everyone knows you stepped onto my land first. It seems you really like the Altai region. Planning a vacation there next year?¡± Alam teased.

    Zion laughed. ¡°You have a point. I won¡¯t just let you keep it. The Altai is valuable for its resources. I will take it, one way or another.¡±

    ¡°Okay, go ahead and take the Altai region. I¡¯ll let you march into Europe,¡± Alam replied, a mocking tone creeping into his voice.

    Zion smiled slyly. ¡°Finally, you admit defeat. Let¡¯s discuss the terms of your surrender.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say I¡¯m surrendering. I¡¯m just giving you the Altai because you seem to want it,¡± Alam countered.

    ¡°No, we¡¯re not equal. I have more men and resources,¡± Zion replied confidently. ¡°If you want peace, surrender now. Otherwise, I¡¯ll keep pushing forward.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t do that,¡± Alam said, a light chuckle escaping him.

    ¡°Then let the war continue. We will not stop until you surrender,¡± Zion warned. ¡°We¡¯ll take every inch of your territory. If you want peace, surrender. Otherwise, prepare for a long conflict.¡±

    ¡°History will remember you as the aggressor. The end-of-year conference won¡¯t like that,¡± Alam shot back.

    ¡°Let history remember who the aggressor is. But I will be the victor, not you,¡± Zion replied, unwavering. ¡°You¡¯ll become a villain in history textbooks.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how a mouse trap works?¡± Alam asked suddenly.

    ¡°Yes, it uses bait to lure the mouse in. When it touches the trigger, the trap snaps shut,¡± Zion answered, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Oh spicy. I wonder what food I¡¯ll use to bait you,¡± Alam said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°Mouse, you say? That¡¯s amusing. What type of food will you give me next?¡± Zion asked, chuckling.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ perhaps Russia?¡± Alam suggested, his tone playful.

    ¡°Russia? That¡¯s quite a piece of cheese to bait me. I wonder if it¡¯ll be enough,¡± Zion replied, smirking.

    ¡°Please, go march to Russia and ignore me,¡± Alam winked.

    ¡°I see you¡¯re trying to trick me. You want me to march to Russia while you plan a surprise attack. But I¡¯m not that easily fooled,¡± Zion said, a knowing look in his eyes.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any soldiers left to mount a proper assault, and there are no tributes from civilians in winter. I¡¯m a benevolent leader,¡± Alam said, feigning innocence.

    ¡°A benevolent leader? Where did your soldiers go? Did they just vanish?¡± Zion laughed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe they went on a picnic or something,¡± Alam replied with a smirk.

    ¡°Picnic in the middle of winter? That¡¯s quite a coincidence,¡± Zion chuckled.

    ¡°Human beings are weird sometimes,¡± Alam shrugged.

    Zion laughed, shaking his head. ¡°Indeed, they are.¡±

    soon the call is ended. alam then look at the map on screen. a grin across his face. the mouse already take the bite. the mountain terrains while make a perfect maze, now he set up the cage. and the spear.

    As the harsh November chill settled over the Altai Mountains, Zion''s forces cautiously advanced. Zion''s forces tiptoed forward, their boots crunching on the snow like a herd of clumsy penguins. The snow-blanketed landscape, once a silent battlefield, now held an eerie quiet. The absence of enemy activity, once reassuring, now bred unease. The commander, sensing a growing threat, urged his troops to remain vigilant.

    Hazel, shared her concerns, noting the enemy''s increasingly unpredictable tactics. The dwindling supply lines of the True Horde hinted at desperation, a dangerous factor in warfare. As they secured Gorno-Altaysk, the lack of enemy presence deepened the mystery. The commander, determined to seize the initiative, planned a strategic encirclement. Hazel, volunteering to lead the defensive guard, prepared for potential ambushes. The soldiers, tense and ready, awaited the enemy''s next move, their fate hanging in the balance of this silent war. They stood like statues, each one a mix of nerves and excitement, waiting for the moment when the snow would explode into action.

    hours crept by, the tension thickening as impatience swelled among the troops. All they wanted was to see the enemy and unleash their firepower, but the stillness of the snowy landscape felt ominous. The sun began to dip behind the mountains, casting long shadows that danced eerily across the ground.

    ¡°Hey look, the moon is clear,¡± Hazel remarked, breaking the silence as he stepped outside, wrapping herself in a blanket.

    Yu, who had been resting inside the tank, opened her eyes and glanced up at the sky, a smile spreading across her face. ¡°It¡¯s beautiful! No storms tonight¡ªmaybe we¡¯ll have a peaceful evening.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Hazel replied, settling down beside her.

    As they enjoyed the moment, the soft strumming of a guitar floated through the air, played by a nearby soldier. The melody was soothing, a welcome distraction from the tension that gripped the camp. Yu felt a sense of peace wash over her, the warmth inside the tank mingling with the calming music.

    Suddenly, a radio call crackled to life, interrupting the tranquility. ¡°Tomorrow, we will attempt to break through from the south to escape the Altai region,¡± Hazel relayed,

    Yu listened intently, knowing that the Altai region was notorious for its challenges. She hoped they could escape without losing anyone.

    After the call, a silence settled over the soldiers, each lost in their thoughts as the reality of the impending battle loomed.

    The next morning, Hazel addressed her troops with a firm voice. ¡°Alright, the road ahead isn¡¯t straight or narrow. We¡¯ll face valleys perfect for enemy ambushes. Cohesion is key to our survival.¡±

    Yu focused intently, determined to follow his orders to ensure everyone¡¯s safety. ¡°We can¡¯t use smoke screens; the line behind us won¡¯t navigate well. Does anyone have ideas?¡±

    As the silence stretched, Yu hesitated but finally spoke up, her voice steady. ¡°If we can¡¯t use a large number of soldiers in open terrain, we should send a small unit of elite soldiers to cut off the enemy from their rear. While they engage, the main force can move forward. Does that sound good?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s a solid idea,¡± Hazel agreed, relieved. ¡°Some of our soldiers have modified legs¡ªthey¡¯ll move faster through this terrain.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s smart,¡± Yu said, feeling a rush of confidence. ¡°We need to pick the most capable soldiers for this operation.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s get moving then. My tank will be second in line. Fortunately, the enemy doesn¡¯t have proper anti-tank weapons yet,¡± Hazel said,

    As they advanced, the terrain grew ever more challenging. ¡°So far, so good. About 70 kilometers left before we reach General Sima¡¯s army,¡± Hazel remarked.

    The march continued without incident until they encountered a large boulder blocking the road. ¡°Damn it! We can¡¯t waste time moving it with a bulldozer. Just shoot it to pieces with our cannon,¡± Hazel ordered. ¡°Hopefully, that will do the trick.¡±

    The crew readied their cannons, and with a loud boom, the first shot echoed across the mountains. Dust and debris exploded into the air as the boulder shattered. However, the road remained cluttered with rubble.

    ¡°Damn. That¡¯ll alert the enemy. Stay focused,¡± Hazel said, the tension creeping back in.

    After nearly two hours of waiting for the dust to settle, the atmosphere was thick with impatience. Then, just as the sun began its descent, a distant rumble of explosions and gunfire erupted from the south, and the soldiers tensed.

    ¡°It must be General Sima¡¯s army clashing with the enemy. We need to move fast to join the attack,¡± Hazel commanded, urgency seeping into his voice.

    The soldiers exchanged serious glances, knowing they had to act quickly. ¡°We can¡¯t let the enemy surround General Sima¡¯s forces,¡± Hazel warned. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±

    As Zion¡¯s forces cautiously advanced into the Altai, the silence continued. The lack of resistance was unsettling. Suddenly, the ground began to tremble. From the surrounding heights, rocks and debris rained down from a landslide,

    Then, from hidden positions, True Horde soldiers emerged, armed with anti-tank weapons. , a hail of arrows rained down from the sky, exploding near them.The ambush was sprung. The maze of the Altai had become a trap.

    News of the disastrous ambush reached Zion. His face darkened with fury. The truce had been a ruse. He had walked straight into Alam¡¯s trap.

    ¡°Take cover!¡± Hazel shouted, diving to the ground.

    The arrows detonated with a deafening roar, sending shrapnel flying. Soldiers scrambled for safety, their hearts racing as they realized they¡¯d fallen into a trap.

    ¡°Damn it! A landslide blocked our road, and now this?¡± Hazel growled, frustration boiling over.

    ¡°Sir, we can¡¯t break through without heavy equipment,¡± a soldier reported urgently.

    ¡°Can we use explosives to clear the path?¡± another suggested.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid shooting is just a waste of ammo. It¡¯s like imagining two towers collapsing on the road. But I¡¯ll give it a shot,¡± Hazel replied,

    ¡°Alright, all tank crews, aim at the road. Fire on the landslide! Two shots each!¡± Hazel ordered.

    The tanks fired in unison, their cannons echoing as they blasted the blockage. As the dust settled, they found the road still partially obstructed, but the way was clearer.

    ¡°Damn, that¡¯ll alert the enemy. Stay alert,¡± Hazel reminded them, his heart pounding from both the adrenaline and lack of sleep.

    ¡°Why so gloomy, everyone? It¡¯s snowy, not raining blood! Come on, let¡¯s sing!¡± she added, trying to lighten the mood.

    The soldiers chuckled, their spirits lifting as they prepared for the fight ahead, ready to face whatever dangers lay in wait.

    ¡°Damn,¡± Hazel muttered, reestablishing contact with HQ. ¡°There¡¯s too much dirt on the road. We can¡¯t clear it with an explosion.¡±

    The response from HQ crackled through the radio. ¡°I see. That¡¯s not good. We need to clear it ASAP. Can you try again? Maybe another round of explosions?¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Hazel replied, determination creeping into his voice. He popped out from the tank. ¡°Alright, set the damn high-explosive shells!¡±

    Orders rippled through the ranks, and the crews of the cannon tanks prepared for a coordinated strike. They aimed their cannons at the stubborn dirt and rocks, waiting for Hazel¡¯s signal.

    ¡°Okay, now fire!¡± she commanded.

    The ground shook as the tanks fired their high-explosive shells, the blasts echoing through the mountains. Dust and debris flew everywhere, but as the smoke cleared, it became evident that the road was still blocked by rocks and boulders.

    ¡°It worked, but we don¡¯t have enough ammo to clear it all,¡± Hazel radioed back. ¡°We need about a thousand shells just to clear this blockage. Just send some heavy equipment from the other side, please.¡±

    The reply was swift. ¡°Heavy equipment is on the way. They¡¯ll reach your position within an hour. Just hold as long as you can.¡±

    ¡°Copy that,¡± Hazel responded, relief washing over him. They just needed to hold out a little longer.

    ¡°Everyone, cut down the trees and build a barricade to defend our tank tracks. We¡¯ll dig in until the southern army arrives with heavy equipment,¡± she ordered.

    The soldiers sprang into action, quickly felling trees and constructing a barricade around the tank tracks. They worked with urgency, knowing the importance of fortifying their position against potential enemy attacks.

    With weapons at the ready, the soldiers prepared to defend their newfound stronghold. They climbed the steep peak, moving cautiously to avoid falling into the abyss below. The climb was grueling, but courage propelled them upward.

    As they reached the summit, True Horde soldiers opened fire. Bullets whizzed past, and chaos erupted as both sides exchanged shots at close range.

    ¡°Take cover!¡± the commander shouted, quickly positioning his troops to return fire. The gunfight was intense, each side determined to hold their ground amidst the cacophony of battle.

    As the afternoon wore on, with no clear winner in sight, Hazel ordered a retreat down the mountain. ¡°We can¡¯t gain victory fighting in close quarters. Let¡¯s regroup,¡± he commanded, and the soldiers descended in an organized manner, discipline guiding their movements.

    Later, as night fell, the command received word to deploy the Strato Cannon to clear the road. ¡°What the hell is a Strato Cannon?¡± Hazel muttered, bewildered.

    The Strato Cannon, a massive piece of artillery, was aimed at the road ahead. its the cordinate is set.

    ¡°Alright, everyone, move away from the perimeter and cover your ears!¡± Hazel ordered as the radio crackled to life.

    ¡°3¡­ 2¡­ 1¡­ Fire!¡± came the command.

    A moment passed, like nothing happend. the cannon is fired, its was so distant from hazel location. probably take a minutes before hit the target. the soldier wait impatiently. while their gaze fixed on the massive rock and dirt in road a head. until finnaly, the ground shook violently as the cannon mution hit the ground, sending shockwaves through the area. The explosion was deafening, debris flying everywhere, and the landslide was obliterated in an impressive display of power.

    ¡°Oh my God! What the heck was that? It¡¯s not a nuke, but damn!¡± Hazel exclaimed, popping out of the tank to assess the damage.

    The area was littered with dirt and stones, remnants of the explosive force. The mountain peak was clear now, a testament to the Strato Cannon¡¯s might.

    ¡°Alright, brace yourselves, dogs! Let¡¯s move south!¡± Hazel shouted, The order was met with enthusiasm as the tanks rolled out, the troops marching with newfound vigor. They were ready to face whatever lay ahead, the Buffalo tanks leading the charge.

    After passing the crater, the soldiers were greeted by the sight of the endless steppe stretching out before them.

    ¡°We¡¯re free now!¡± Hazel declared, exhilaration coursing through her.

    sHe turned to Yu, playfully punching her shoulder. ¡°We somehow survived!¡±

    Yu was taken by surprise, her initial shock melting into a smile. ¡°We did it, Hazel! We actually made it out of that hellhole!¡±

    ¡°Sure did, Orange Hair. Sure did,¡± Hazel chuckled,

    Cheers erupted from the soldiers, the tension of battle giving way to camaraderie as they clapped each other on the back and shared tales of narrow escapes. But the celebration was short-lived; the steppe was unforgiving. The wind howled across the plains, whipping up clouds of dust that stung their eyes.

    ¡°We can¡¯t stay here,¡± Hazel said firmly. ¡°We need to reach General Sima¡¯s army before nightfall. They¡¯re our only hope.¡±

 Chapter 57 Break through

    The artillery just wouldn''t quit. Thump-thump-thump, the ground kept shaking. and sky is sound like firework party but deadly.  Not exactly the Christmas carols he remembered. It was Christmas Eve, by the way. Alexander, one of the True Horde guys, watched a tree get turned into splinters. He ducked back into his trench, took a deep breath, and checked his rifle. Yep, still frozen. He poked at the little smiley face he''d carved into the ice stuck on the magazine. At least that was festive.

    Then, between the thumps, Seri yelled. He¡¯d been bringing supplies and caught some shrapnel. They hauled him into the dugout, trying to stop the bleeding. Seri was whispering, ¡°Morphine¡­ ketamine¡­ anything¡­¡± He was hurting bad. They didn¡¯t have anything for him, though. Just some bandages and empty promises.

    Around 1 AM, but the temperature is warm. its because intensity of the artillery battle.

    the order came to evacuate Seri. The task was daunting: carrying him on a cloth stretcher by hand, at night, with only one night-vision device. The man at the front, carrying the stretcher, was the only one who could see.

    They carried him through the trenches and into a shattered treeline leading west, a dangerous route even at night due to the ever-present threat of drones directing artillery or dropping grenades.

    They were spotted. Mortars began raining down, forcing them to take cover between two large logs. Seri lay between the logs, the rest of the group pressed against them on their stomachs. It was 2 AM. Fear gripped Alexander. It was one of his first combat evacuations, and he had seen enough videos on vr to know the potential dangers.

    Of course, they got spotted. Mortars started raining down. They dove between two huge logs, with Seri stuck in the middle. The next hour was a nightmare. Alexander had seen the VR training, knew what a close call looked like. And these were way too close. One explosion lit up the whole area like a messed-up Christmas light show.

    He saw the trees, all ripped up and splintered. Then it was dark again, with his ears ringing. He felt the heat from another blast, the snow around him hissing as it melted.

    When the mortars finally stopped, they kept going, Seri¡¯s groans pushing them on. They finally made it to the evac point. A truck showed up, they loaded Seri in, and a medic gave them a quick ¡°Thanks, have a good Christmas.¡± Alexander had totally spaced that it was Christmas. It sure didn''t feel like it. No family, no hot food, no presents. Just a wounded guy, his blood on the floor of their dugout. They had carried him one and a half to two kilometers through a battlefield in pitch darkness.

    As they stealthily made their way back to their position, around 6 AM, mortars began falling again. Back in the dugout, Alexander quickly became intensely cold. He had been moving and exerting himself all night; his clothes were damp with sweat. He sat shivering, trying to stay warm as artillery and mortars impacted seemingly at random around them. By this point, he was too tired, too wet, too cold, and too depressed to care much about what happened to him.

    It was now Christmas morning, the sun rising and artillery stupid battle is stop. Alexander tried to find something to be grateful for, recalling his father¡¯s words: the only thing that can motivate a man is himself. The artillery fire had stopped. He walked into the trench walkway and saw the frost on the branches, the ground, the frozen shovels, the boxes. Everything looked different in the early morning light, the kind that casts a slightly orange hue.

    In that moment, he felt a profound sense of gratitude for being alive, that his wife and family were safe. He was grateful that Seri had been evacuated. He began to see things differently. He stopped feeling sorry for himself; it could have been worse. This was war; his corpse could be frozen in a treeline, unattended until spring. But he was alive, and his family was alive and safe.

    While Alexander found a fragile peace in the quiet dawn, just a few kilometers away, the war raged on with undiminished ferocity. the Red Army faced a formidable enemy trench, its occupants braced for a long battle. The enemy had assembled a large force complemented by heavy artillery, but nothing could withstand the might of the Red Army. With quick maneuvers and superior firepower, they obliterated the enemy stronghold in no time.

    ¡°Damn,¡± Hazel muttered, scanning the aftermath as they passed the trench. ¡°Looks like the south army stalled. Just look at all this carnage.¡±

    The sight was grim. Bodies of fallen soldiers, both friend and foe, mixed with the wreckage of war, painted a stark picture of the battle''s savagery. Blood stained the snow,

    Suddenly, the radio crackled to life. ¡°Command here! General Sima''s base in Banyan -?lgii is about to be overrun by enemy tanks! Move fast and assist them!¡±

    Hazel¡¯s heart raced. ¡°Understood! Let¡¯s move out!¡± she shouted, urgency fueling his words. They accelerated, racing against time to reach the beleaguered general.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    As they advanced, the base came into view, surrounded by enemy tanks. ¡°Damn it, they¡¯ve taken the base! Form a line! Fire on those enemy tanks!¡± Hazel commanded, determination etched on his face.

    The troops quickly took position, but just as they prepared to engage, a thunderous explosion echoed through the air. The Strato Cannon had fired, obliterating the base and killing everyone within its walls indiscriminately.

    The Red Army tanks halted, stunned by the sheer destruction. think about pile of ash in middle of white room

    ¡°Someone tell me¡ªdid you blow the base?¡± Hazel ask nearby khagan officer,

    one bald man with dark grab lowered his binocular and look at her feature first before speak

    ¡°Yes, we blew the base. The general must be dead. The enemy was too strong, and we were about to lose it anyway,¡± came the grim response.

    Hazel swallowed hard, letting out a breath. ¡°Understood.¡±, still in shock at the devastation.

    As if on cue, reinforcements from General Sima¡¯s division arrived on foot, breathless and tense. ¡°Oh no, we¡¯re late!¡± one soldier exclaimed.

    ¡°Tell me what happened,¡± Hazel urged.

    ¡°General Sima thought the True Horde tanks would encircle you, so he sent us to support. But they attacked straight at the base instead,¡± the soldier explained, urgency lacing his words.

    ¡°A bad gambit,¡± Hazel murmured, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

    sHe climbed back into the tank, the cramped space feeling heavier with each passing moment. she hugged Yu tightly, both of them silently processing the situation.

    ¡°What do you feel?¡± she finally asked, breaking the silence.

    Yu sat in the tank, staring into the dark night outside. ¡°I¡¯m sad. The base is destroyed, and General Sima is dead. It feels like it¡¯s all my fault.¡±

    ¡°Oh, are you self-blaming?¡± Hazel replied, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°I don¡¯t blame you or myself. I blame our superiors.¡±

    Yu sighed, looking back at him. ¡°I just wish I could¡¯ve done something.¡±

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll get through this,¡± Hazel reassured her, rubbing her shoulder.

    Later that night, nestled inside the belly of a battered tank, Hazel popped her head out. ¡°Hey, Patrick! You still alive?¡±

    Patrick turned, his eyes dull, exhaustion etched across his face. ¡°Why the hell am I still alive?¡± he muttered to himself, contemplating the absurdity of their situation. General Sima was gone, the chaos was overwhelming, and all he could do was sit and stare at the ruins of their hopes.

    ¡°I¡¯m the new commander,¡± Hazel announced, her voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them. ¡°As the highest-ranking officer, this company will follow me.¡±

    Patrick blinked at her, still processing the day¡¯s events. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding,¡± he thought, but the weariness in his bones was overwhelming.

    ¡°Alright, gentlemen and hardened devildogs,¡± Hazel continued, rallying the troops with a spark of determination. ¡°We need to head back to the ruins of the base, set up a perimeter, and treat our wounded.¡±

    Nods of agreement spread through the group, though they looked like the living dead, shuffling toward the ruins of their former stronghold.

    As they set up camp amidst the debris, Hazel took a moment to check on Yu, who sat quietly on a nearby tank, her gaze lost in the horizon. ¡°Are you okay?¡±s he asked gently.

    Yu didn¡¯t reply; her sad, empty eyes spoke volumes. It was her first encounter with death so close to home, and the weight of it pressed heavily on her heart.

    ¡°Alright, at least keep pushing the pedal,¡± Hazel urged, trying to break the tension.

    The next morning, as the sun peeked over the horizon, Hazel gathered the remaining soldiers. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s reorganize. We need a headcount and a rundown of our equipment before we move on.¡±

    The atmosphere was thick with unease, but they complied, counting soldiers and checking the meager arsenal left at their disposal. ¡°121 soldiers, but only 82 can fight,¡± one soldier reported, the grim statistics hanging in the air like a dark cloud.

    ¡°Looks like our only vehicle is our tank,¡± Hazel mused, scratching his head. ¡°We¡¯ll need to make a makeshift platform to carry the wounded. We¡¯re abandoning the artillery; it¡¯s just too risky.¡±

    They moved through the snowy expanse, the chill biting at their exposed skin as they approached the city¡ªa ghost town, abandoned and eerily silent. The Red Army entered cautiously, their senses heightened, each sound echoing like a warning bell.

    ¡°Damn... send two squads of twelve to secure this city, from the outside to the inside,¡± Hazel commanded.

    As the soldiers fanned out, they began the meticulous process of fortifying their new position. They barricaded doors, sealed windows, and prepared traps, transforming the shattered remnants of the city into a makeshift fortress.

    ¡°Nearest friendly forces are just a few kilometers away,¡± Hazel said, glancing around at the fortified buildings. ¡°It looks like we¡¯re in for a long wait until they arrive.¡±

    With a heavy heart and a mind still reeling from the chaos of the previous day, the Red Army settled into their new reality¡ªa band of soldiers bound not just by duty, but by shared loss, determination, and an unyielding resolve to survive against the odds.

    On December 28th, two platoons arrived, bringing with them the Stride Tank ¨C a lighter, faster vehicle designed for reconnaissance and quick strikes.

    A blue-haired soldier dismounted, approaching Hazel with a grin. ¡°Greetings, Commander! Tetsuya at your service. This baby can hit 105 km/h on flat ground. Smoother than a baby¡¯s bottom!¡±

    Hazel raised an eyebrow. ¡°Speed is good. What about armor?¡±

    ¡°Agility is its armor,¡± Tetsuya replied. ¡°It can take standard fire, but heavy artillery is a different story. We¡¯ll need to be smart about how we use it.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Hazel said. ¡°We can use it to counter hit-and-run tactics.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. But we need to be wary of enemy reinforcements,¡± Tetsuya warned.

    ¡°We wiped out their tank division a few days ago,¡± Hazel said skeptically.

    ¡°They¡¯re resourceful,¡± Tetsuya countered. ¡°We can¡¯t underestimate them.¡±

    As the sun set on December 29th, the Red Army garrison found a temporary respite. The mood was somber, but the arrival of the Stride Tanks offered a glimmer of hope. They knew the fight for the Altai was far from over. The icy winds whipped across the Altai Mountains, carrying snow and the faint scent of oil, the very resource that had ignited this bitter war between the Red Army and the True Horde

 Chapter 58 Beyond the sea

    While Alam and Zion were busy with their little game of cat and mouse, Hazel and Panji were fighting for survival in a brutal winter war on the other side of the world. Meanwhile, near the Gulf of Mexico, a group with two off-road vehicles was kicking up dust in a barren desert. They rolled into a ghost town near a port and piled out. Their gear was a real mix¡ªeverything from gas masks to a guy decked out in a bright blue Napoleonic-era getup.

    This "Napoleon," who was actually a guy named Baker, immediately started checking every corner of the street with his bolt-action rifle. A woman named Sarah, wearing a black vest and sporting a scar on her cheek, casually leaned against one of the vehicles, an anti-material rifle¡ªa huge sniper rifle with a massive barrel¡ªresting easily in her hands. She was clearly strong, thanks to some kind of genetic mutation. ¡°Relax, Baker,¡± she said, glancing at the small, infected robot she held in her palm. "Nobody''s here."

    Baker, still on edge, rubbed his yellow beard. "I know, but just in case." He had a thermal imaging scope attached to his rifle.

    A short-haired man in military pants, Vance, checked his watch and fidgeted with the SMG in his hands. ¡°When¡¯s La Buse¡¯s escort arriving?¡± he muttered. ¡°They¡¯re late¡­ typical pirates.¡±

    Sarah¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°What if they ditch us?¡±

    Baker shrugged, resting his rifle on his shoulder. ¡°Then they don¡¯t get the money, or our trust.¡±

    They headed over to an old bank. Baker, a nostalgic glint in his eye, remarked, "This place used to belong to the Russian mafia, back before the war. They even tried to switch our currency to some gold-backed credit system."

    Inside, stacks of old bills lay piled high, four or five stacks at least. Sarah picked up a handful, shaking her head. "It''s crazy to think this used to be worth something. Now it''s just¡­nothing."

    Baker chuckled. "Yeah, they used to buy up palaces and everything. But in the end, they didn''t even get to enjoy it. They''re all dust now."

    Sarah dropped the bills like they were hot. "They bought the whole bank?"

    Baker ran a hand through his hair. "Not just banks. Shops, hotels¡­ They weren''t just gangsters with guns, they were businessmen too."

    Vance¡¯s eyes darted around the room. "Enough with the history lesson. We¡¯ve got company. Let''s fortify this place. Move it!"

    They scrambled to set up defenses. A dusty old table became cover, and they rigged a tripwire with a grenade at the main entrance.

    While they waited, Sarah took to the rooftop, finding a good vantage point. But her mind was still stuck on the whole mobster thing. ¡°But¡­ how did people from Russia even end up all the way over here in America?¡± she wondered aloud.

    Baker rolled his eyes, his voice crackling through the radio. "People traveled a lot back then. Long story short, they were¡­armed traffickers, agents, something like that. Now keep the radio chatter to a minimum, Sarah."

    They waited, the ghost town eerily quiet. Then, a scout¡¯s voice broke the silence. "Armed convoy, twelve o''clock!"

    vance then reply ¡°they pirate or not?¡±

    The scout sounded annoyed. ¡°how i suppose to know?, they are 3 trucks. these guys is armed to the teeth¡±

    Sarah, on the rooftop, quickly scans the trucks in the distance. She squints through her scope as she tries to get a better look at the vehicles.

    "Armed to the teeth, huh? That doesn''t sound like typical pirate behavior. They usually prefer stealth and speed over brute force."

    vance shake his head ¡°they must zion contractor who chasing us, we must hold position until la buse arrive¡±

    all group member tense, then 3 truck is stop just in outskirt of the town. then they release their drone for their eyes. baker and sarah then quickly shot the drone with ease, ¡°good shot!¡± vance praise.

    then people on trucks start dismount. they are wear a black fullface helmet. their insignia is red color. they are the red nation army.

    then they move in file. a dozens soldier surround the town. and move slowly with their rifle ready to shot.

    sarah who observe their movement with her insect robot, then pick them off one by one. one of soldier trying cover on the walls. but sarah rifle able to penetrate both the wall and their armor.

    Baker and the others tried to flank them, hit ''em from the side, but they were outnumbered. The ghost town turned into a straight-up firefight. They started falling back to the fortified bank, some red soldier trigger the traps. and explosion erupted. but that not enough to stop them. their armor is strong enough to stop the shrapnell.

    baker then bark to sarah ¡°its look like only your rifle who can stop them¡±

    sarah then reload her rifle. while take cover ¡°yeah.. but im low ammo¡±

    baker then turn to vance who check his ammo too ¡°any briliant idea again chief?¡±

    Vance, his face grim, turned to Baker. ¡°Just aim for their visors. Crack ¡®em, and they¡¯re blind.¡±

    Baker smirked, adjusting his grip. ¡°Easier said than done, especially when they¡¯ve got the better hardware.¡±

    Vance reloaded, a quick glance at his watch. ¡°Damn it¡­ where is he?¡±

    Sarah scanned the advancing soldiers, her brow furrowed, mentally counting heads. A knot tightened in her stomach. Too many. Way too many. She checked her magazine; it was empty. ¡°We¡¯re outnumbered, and I¡¯m down to my last few,¡± she muttered through gritted teeth, the empty magazine a cold weight in her hand.

    Then, as if a switch had flipped, the gunfire stopped. The Red Nation soldiers cautiously entered the bank, spreading out, searching. But the group had vanished.Stolen novel; please report.

    More soldiers poured into the bank, heading for the stairs to secure the second floor. That¡¯s when Vance yelled, ¡°Now!¡± A cascade of old bills, packed into large boxes, rained down on the first floor, the air instantly thick with the pungent smell of gasoline. The room was now a chaotic mess of paper money.

    The soldiers were momentarily stunned, then opened fire on the second floor. ¡°Think some paper¡¯s gonna stop us, fools? Go die!¡± one snarled between shots.

    Vance ducked behind the second-floor railing. ¡°Crap. The money¡¯s not lighting,¡± he muttered, hoping the stray bullets would do the trick.

    Baker held up a battered old lighter. ¡°This will.¡± He flicked the wheel, the flame catching, and tossed it down onto the money-strewn floor. The gasoline ignited with a whoosh, turning the room into an inferno. Smoke billowed upwards, choking the air.

    The group, already on the bank¡¯s roof, clipped onto a zipline strung to a neighboring building. The smoke provided a perfect screen. Baker stayed behind, laying down covering fire through the thick smoke, his thermal scope cutting through the haze.

    Once everyone else was across, Sarah yelled, ¡°"Hurry up, Baker!" she calls out, anxiously looking back at him.!¡±

    Baker jumped onto the zipline, but a soldier he¡¯d shot at earlier had recovered and opened fire. A bullet grazed Baker¡¯s shoulder, the sudden jolt sending him tumbling downwards. He landed with a bone-jarring thud in a rusty dumpster, a sharp pain shooting up his back. ¡°Aghhh!¡± he groaned.

    Just then, Vance¡¯s intercom crackled to life. It was La Buse¡¯s submarine, already near the docks, ready for extraction.

    Sarah looked down at Baker, sprawled in the dumpster. ¡°We can¡¯t leave him!¡±

    Vance gritted his teeth, watching the soldiers emerge from the bank, guns raised, firing towards their position.

    they trying to pick up baker. from street fight. but its too hard. bullet are everywhere.

    Bullets whizzed past Sarah¡¯s ears, kicking up dust from the cracked pavement. ¡°Gotta get to Baker,¡± she gasped, ducking behind a crumbling wall. He was down, somewhere in that crossfire, and leaving him wasn¡¯t an option. She risked a peek, scanning the chaotic scene. Gunfire echoed off the buildings, explosions rocked the ground ¨C it was a mess.

    Suddenly, Vance¡¯s comm crackled to life, a tinny burst of J-Pop blasting in the background. ¡°Took you long enough, buddy,¡± a voice drawled ¨C La Buse.

    ¡°We¡¯re pinned down!¡± Vance gritted out.

    Inside his dimly lit submarine, La Buse spun in his chair, nodding to his crew. Back on the surface, the situation was going south fast. They were bogged down trying to reach Baker, surrounded again. Both sides were running low on ammo.

    Desperate, the group holed up in a nearby apartment complex started scavenging. Frying pans, random bits of junk ¨C anything they could throw or use as a makeshift weapon.Sarah, frustrated with their lack of weapons, grabbed a frying pan and held it tightly in her hand.

    "This is ridiculous," she muttered. "We''re fighting off an army with kitchen equipment."

    meanwhile enemy start become bolder seeing the group start running out their ammunation. they using dumpster for moving closer to the apartment building. including dumpster which baker are fall into. they unaware baker just laying there unconscious

    "Damnit, they''re getting closer," Sarah said, her grip tightening on the frying pan. "We need to think of something quick."

    but then a missle from sky hit most of soldier. its was la buse missile, they shot a small missile from their submarine, its was danger close, but the missile accuration is extremely precise, hit them into piece. the soldier then go scattered from the missile impact. vance then quickly use this to pick up baker. amids the barrage of missile "we got it!. now go to dock" vance said with heavy breath while he take cover inside the building

    Sarah¡¯s eyes widened as the missile struck. This was their chance. ¡°Move!¡± she yelled, sprinting after Vance, the others close behind. Smoke and dust choked the air, but they pushed on, desperate to reach the waiting submarine.

    Two small, heavily armed boats waited for them at the crumbling docks. ¡°Quick!¡± a pirate barked, spraying a hail of bullets towards the remaining enemy soldiers, pinning them down. They scrambled into the boats, engines roaring to life.

    The group spotted the pirate boats waiting at the port and picked up their pace. With the enemy hot on their heels, they knew they had no time to waste.

    "Hurry!" Sarah yelled, pushing herself to run faster. They were almost there.

    the pirate start spray and pray at soldier direction. their bullet smash at cretes and cargo. the soldier then forced to pinned down. soon. the group manage to get the small boat. all alive. they then go to the sea

    Sarah collapsed onto the small boat, her body soaked in sweat and her breath coming in short gasps. She looked back at the port they''d just escaped from, now overrun with enemy soldiers.

    "We made it," she murmured, taking a deep breath to try and calm her racing heart. "We actually made it..."

    vance then throw away his wooden rolling pin from his hip to the sea. he take a breath. while put baker "yeah.. that is near miss"

    Sarah let out a shaky laugh, still high on adrenaline.

    "Just ''near miss''?" she replied, "More like a narrow escape. If it weren''t for those pirates, I don''t know what would''ve happened."

    then one of pirate grin while his hand on the boat driver wheel "do its make us be your savior then? give us kiss"

    Sarah rolled her eyes but couldn''t help but crack a small smile. She glanced at Vance and then back at the pirate.

    "Oh, so now you want a reward for saving us?" she replied, feigning annoyance.

    the pirate continue to grin. showing his gold teeth "3d woman is sometimes better"

    Sarah chuckled at the pirate''s comment, then playfully shot back,

    "Oh please, you''re just after free entertainment, aren''t you?"

    after that jarring flirting attempt. they arrive on the submarine who popping out to the surface., the small boat then dock at top of the submarine flat deck. then they are flattening the small boat, and just roll it. and store it on surprisingly a small box like,

    Once onboard the submarine, Sarah marveled at the small boat storage. "How do they fit all these things in such a tiny space?" she wondered aloud. As they were led inside, she couldn''t help but be impressed by the sheer size and complexity of the vessel.

    . when at inside the submarine. they start diving away. baker and other wounded crew are in med room. while vance and sarah are in control room . with anime background music, and some monitor show a anime girl dancing.. La Buse then appeared, his grin wide, and greeted them.

    vance now nod at la buse. man with blonde long hair tied in back. on his cloak there is some random kanji appear "so.. here is what you want" vance then give the pirate with box of full data chips " you will give us ride to horn africa like you promise before...dont you? ¡° vance said with hint of uncertainty on his voice, he know deal with pirates will often messy

    La Buse let out a hearty laugh, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Don''t worry, my friend. We''re pirates, not liars. We''ll take you to Horn Africa, just as promised."

    He took the box of data chips and flicked through them, his expression shifting to one of curiosity

    La Buse''s eyebrows raised in interest. "The memories of the deceased, you say? You have my attention."

    He leaned casually against the wall, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You know, I''ve seen a lot of strange things during my time at sea. But memories, stolen and stored on data chips? Now that''s unusual even for a pirate like me."

    vance nodded ¡°

    i see, in sort. they are .. a little film of important moment of person. that why its very valuable piece of information.. "vance pause" do that enough for payment?

    La Buse''s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with greed. He twirled the box of data chips in his hand as he spoke.

    "Important moments...filmed and stored on these little chips. Not just memories, but the essence of a person''s life."

    He leaned closer to Vance, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "Payment? My friend, you''ve just given us something truly priceless. A glimpse into the lives of those who have passed on. That''s more than enough for our services."

    then in separate room cabin., couldn¡¯t help but be a bit skeptical. She trusted Vance and Baker, but La Buse seemed a bit shady.

    "Can we really trust him?" she whispered to Vance, her eyes darting skeptically towards the pirate captain.

    "we already on their submarine. die is cast" vance sigh

    Sarah nodded reluctantly, her arms crossed and her foot tapping anxiously. "I guess you have a point," she admitted. "It''s too late to back out now. We''ll just have to hope the pirates keep their word."

 Chapter 59 Shadows of the Past

    then at horn of africa. border pink and black nation. its was hub of trade, lot of ware come and go. but along the way the other coastal settlements is empty, have yielded evidence of past urban centers and trade activity.its because some port after enviroment catastrophe are experienced siltation of the harbor, here a harbor gradually fills up with sediment, primarily silt (fine sand, clay, and other fine particles). This buildup can significantly reduce the harbor''s depth and usability over time. and when trade route is changed because rise of fall nations over the world.  pink nation build new city port. named Adulis.

    As Vance, Sarah, Baker, and the others stepped onto the shore, while old buildings is buried on sands. one of pirate offered a final, unsettling grin. "Adulis awaits. May your fortunes be¡­ kinder than some I''ve seen." With that cryptic farewell, the pirate ship reversed course, leaving the group stranded on the edge of a world they barely understood. Adulis shimmered in the distance¡­

    "This is it," she murmured. "The heart of Pink Nation. What do you think our chances are of getting through?"

    vance look at his watch "we must find my associated somewhere in adulis. he will provide us a place for lay low"

    Sarah nodded, her eyes scanning the city for any signs of the associated.

    "Alright, then let''s get moving," she said, a hint of determination in her voice. "Time''s a-wasting and the longer we stand here, the more likely we are to be spotted."

    "yeah, baker are do your back is fine man? "vance glance at baker

    Baker chuckled, still a bit groggy from his fall. "Yeah, I''m fine. Just the usual aches and pains from crashing into a dumpster. Nothing I can''t handle." He stretched, cracking his neck with a loud pop.

    alright ''vance nod and then look at others member of group " remember, pink nation see their female in high regard, do not look their woman directly on their eyes, keep your head down.. "

    Sarah raised an eyebrow at Vance''s words. "High regard, huh? Sounds like old-fashioned nonsense to me," she muttered under her breath. However, knowing how quickly things could devolve in different territories she begrudgingly nodded.

    "Got it, no direct eye contact with their women. Head down," she repeated. "Understood."

    vance unimpressed with sarah xenophobic comment"yeah, jackass. you.. now kinda queen in here "vance smirk

    Sarah rolled her eyes, clearly not amused by the title.

    "Great. Just peachy. I''m ''Queen'' now, huh?"

    Baker stifled a laugh, obviously enjoying this whole situation a little too much.

    They entered Adulis, the city a cacophony of sounds and smells. Vance kept his hand close to his sidearm, his eyes scanning the crowded streets. "My contact frequents a local establishment," he said, leading them through a maze of narrow alleyways. "A place called the Golden Teacup."

    The Golden Teacup wasn''t a teahouse at all, but a bustling restaurant with tables spilling out onto the street. The aroma of spiced meats and strong coffee hung heavy in the air. As they approached, Sarah noticed a group of figures huddled in the shadows behind the building. They wore dark cloaks, and glints of metal could be seen beneath the fabric¡ªcybernetic implants, perhaps, or weaponry.

    "Mercenaries," she murmured, nudging Vance. "Behind the restaurant."

    Vance glanced over, his expression tightening. "Just like us," he muttered, taking a sip from a flask he pulled from his coat. He didn''t seem overly concerned. "This place is a hub. Mercs looking for work, information brokers, all sorts."

    They found a table near the edge of the patio, giving them a view of both the street and the alleyway behind the restaurant. As they settled in, a man with a gas mask spoke up, his voice muffled. "I heard there''s a big mess brewing in Central Asia. Is that what brought us here, Vance?"

    Vance nodded, rubbing his beard. "That''s part of it. But it''s not just about the True Horde and the Red Nation. There''s work to be found all over¡­ from the legitimate to the¡­ less so."

    Sarah leaned forward, intrigued. "So, this place is a good place to find work?" She glanced at Baker, who was quietly observing the surroundings, taking in every detail. "Even the shady kind?" she muttered, more to herself.

    Baker chimed in, his eyes narrowed. "Sounds like a lot of red tape too. I bet you have to jump through a lot of hoops just to get paid."

    Vance sighed, his voice low. "After our failed revolution in Mexico¡­ I need something bigger. I''m thinking¡­" He glanced at a tattered map of Central Asia pinned to a nearby wall. "I''m thinking of heading east."

    Sarah followed his gaze. Central Asia. She knew of the turmoil and chaos that often plagued that region. A pang of concern shot through her. "Central Asia? You''re serious? That''s dangerous territory, Vance. You don''t know what kind of mess you might stumble into there."

    Vance intertwined his fingers, a glint in his eye. "Bigger game, bigger jackpot, I suppose."

    Sarah studied his face, trying to gauge his seriousness. His nonchalant attitude, despite the potential danger, put her on edge. "Don''t you think you''re being a little reckless, Vance? Bigger risk, bigger reward, sure. But if things go south¡­"

    Vance nodded,

    Sarah let out a sigh.So, he was being serious. She ran a hand through her hair, exasperated."You really don''t have any sense of self-preservation, do you? Central Asia¡­ it''s a powder keg ready to explode."

    After a moment of tense silence, Vance spoke again, his voice firm. "Our continent is no stranger to conflict. They just exaggerate things to divert world attention."

    Sarah gave him a skeptical look. "Maybe," she conceded. "But the tension is real. And you¡­ you''re always chasing danger. One day, it''ll catch up to you."

    Vance smirked. "Speak for yourself, woman."

    Sarah raised an eyebrow, returning his smirk. "I''m not the one casually mentioning Central Asia like it''s a vacation spot."

    Meanwhile, the other members of the group remained quiet, their thoughts drifting back to Mexico and the families they had left behind. Baker''s gaze was fixed on a woman across the street, who was playing peek-a-boo with a baby in another woman''s arms.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Sarah noticed the sadness in his eyes. She leaned closer, her voice soft. "Thinking about your family?"

    Baker nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "Yeah¡­ reminds me of my nephews."

    Sarah placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know how you feel. I worry about my family too. We have to believe they''re alright."

    Baker nodded, his expression a mix of sadness and determination.

    "You''re right. We''ve got to believe they''re holding on, somehow. We can''t let ourselves lose hope, not after everything we''ve been through."

    The conversation drifted, the weight of their uncertain future hanging heavy in the air. Unbeknownst to them, their fate was already being decided elsewhere. Miles away, aboard La Buse''s submarine¡­, The crew of the submarine observed the coastal city through the periscope, taking in the bustling activity and scant defenses. La Buse, a smirk on his face, turned to his crew and issued his orders.

    "Look at that, lads. A city ripe for the picking! Scant defenses, a busy port...it''s like they''re begging to be targeted."

    His crew murmured in agreement, grins creeping across their faces as they anticipated the raid.

    La Buse''s eyes gleamed with excitement as he continued, "We''re pirates, not gentlemen. We''ll take what we want and leave them in ruins."

    He then turned to one of his crew. "Prepare the boarding party. We''ll be attacking on both land and sea. Let''s give them hell!"

    when the crew ready to attack. la buse accountant step in on monitor. he adjust his glasses and tie before speak "its was sumbhajee protectorate, you cant just waltz in. i already found broker for our data chip we go from last deal. give up the attack"

    La Buse''s grin faltered as the accountant''s voice cut through the air, calm and measured. "Captain," accountant said, adjusting his glasses, "I''ve reviewed the projected gains. An attack on Adulis would be¡­unwise."

    La Buse turned, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Unwise? We''re pirates. ''Unwise'' is our middle name."

    "With respect, Captain," the accountant continued, his tone unwavering, "Adulis falls under the protection of the Sumbhajee Protectorate. A direct assault would violate our agreement with Jozen."

    La Buse''s jaw tightened. The mention of Jozen''s name carried weight. It wasn''t an oath of fealty, exactly, more of a pragmatic alliance. Jozen provided resources and a degree of legitimacy in exchange for adherence to certain¡­guidelines. "A little¡­ unofficial business wouldn''t hurt," La Buse muttered, glancing back at the city through the periscope.

    The accountant simply raised an eyebrow. "Jozen''s displeasure is¡­expensive. I''ve already secured a buyer for the data chips. The projected profit is¡­" He tapped a few keys on his console, displaying a figure on the monitor: 2 million credits. "Sufficient to cover our operational costs for the next two cycles."

    La Buse stared at the number, his expression shifting from annoyance to calculation. He did a quick mental estimate. "And the potential haul from Adulis?"

    "A maximum of 200 million, with a high probability of incurring significant losses, including potential revocation of our operating agreement with Jozen."

    La Buse let out a long breath. The accountant''s logic was irrefutable. He might crave the thrill of the raid, but he wasn''t willing to jeopardize their long-term stability for a short-term gain. "Fine," he conceded, his voice laced with reluctant acceptance. "Call it off. But if that two million doesn''t materialize, I''m holding you personally responsible."

    ¡°good "the accountant nodded. and end the call. then the monitor turn to usual anime dancing loop, the nearby crew then look at each other. until one speak " do we go back to mexico gulf then?"

    La Buse let out a frustrated huff and turned away from the monitor. He knew the accountant was right, but that didn''t make him any less annoyed.

    He glanced at the nearby crew and considered their question. "Mexico Gulf...I guess. That''s where we get most of our supplies, after all."

    He then looked back at the dancing anime girls on the monitor, his irritation returning. "But seriously, can we turn off that crap?"

    later. one of crew tasked to examine the datachips before attempt to sell it. among them its had title. ¡°early day of zion¡±. the crew member look at each other. and shrug. he then use his vr helmet. then transport to the virtual reality.

    What used to be Mexico was now just a wasteland. The ruins of a village sat under a low sun, making everything cast long shadows. A little kid named Zion was hiding behind some barrels, his heart going crazy. He was too young to really get what was happening, but he¡¯d seen some seriously messed-up stuff.

    A gang of raiders¡ªtech scavengers¡ªhad stormed the village. They set houses on fire, their shouts and laughter mixing with the crackling flames. They weren''t there for a simple looting and massacre. They were after the data chips people had on the backs of their heads, shouting about a revolution or something. Stuff Zion didn''t understand.

    Zion was shaking, peeking through the gaps in the barrels as his neighbors were dragged out of their homes, their cries swallowed by the fire. His world was falling apart.

    As the sun went down, the raiders did their thing, looting and pillaging. Zion felt a mix of anger and despair, but he stayed quiet. He knew it was the only way to stay safe.

    Then, Warlord Wu and his crew showed up. They hit the raiders hard and fast. Zion watched Wu''s warriors fight, their blades flashing in the dying light. For the first time that day, he felt a tiny bit of hope.

    One of the warriors found Zion hiding. He knelt down, looking serious. "Well, look what we have here," he said. Wu, a bald man in a crimson exosuit with human skulls on his shoulders, came over. "Bring the boy to me," he ordered.

    Zion stood in front of Wu, feeling both scared and impressed. "You''re coming with me," Wu said. Zion knew he didn''t have a choice.

    Days turned into weeks. Zion was forced into the arena, fighting other boys for wu amusement. He learned to fight and dancing, adapting to his harsh new reality. But the memories of the village haunted him.

    One night, after a particularly brutal match, Zion found himself in the center of the hall, half-naked and bruised. He glanced around, and his heart sank as he saw the victor of the fight being dragged away by Wu''s vassals. The boy''s cries echoed in Zion''s mind, a chilling reminder of the darkness that surrounded him. It was a world where strength ruled, and the weak were preyed upon.

    Zion''s fighting skills improved, but so did the brutality around him. Wu planned a large-scale invasion to eliminate the remaining bandits. Zion became friends with another boy, Keith. They shared their struggles and dreams of freedom.

    However, the arrival of the Amazonian mercenaries changed everything. Wu hired these fierce female warriors to bolster his forces, and among them was Lucy, a dark-skinned woman whose strength and beauty captivated Keith. As their bond deepened, Zion felt a pang of jealousy. He had lost his closest friend to the allure of love, and the rift between them grew.

    The war continued. Zion led his fighters into battle. The tension between him and Keith escalated, culminating in an argument during a feast. In a fit of rage, Zion killed Keith.

    The room fell silent, the weight of Zion''s actions crashing down upon him like a tidal wave. Lucy''s eyes burned with fury as she confronted him, but before she could challenge him, Wu intervened, furious at the chaos Zion had unleashed. The bond between the Amazonian mercenaries and Wu''s forces shattered, and Lucy vanished, leaving Zion to grapple with the consequences of his actions

    In the aftermath, Zion found himself at his lowest point. The guilt of killing his friend consumed him, and he swore off alcohol, vowing never to let it cloud his judgment again. The world around him felt darker, and he began to despise women, blaming them for the chaos that had unfolded.

    But the guilt didn''t lead to simple remorse. It festered, twisting into something darker. I should have been stronger. I should have been in control. He began to see weakness everywhere, in himself, in Wu, in the world itself. Power. That¡¯s what I need. Power to prevent this from ever happening again. He began to see the world not in terms of right and wrong, but in terms of power and weakness.

    Rumors of advanced technology on the east coast, technology capable of imbuing Dolls with personalities, reached his ears. If I could just¡­ undo what I¡¯ve done. The idea of reversing death, of controlling life and death itself, became an obsession. It wasn''t about reviving Keith anymore; it was about proving he could conquer even death, that he could become something more than the man who killed his friend. He gathered a small band of loyal followers and set out, driven by this newfound ambition.

    Seeking redemption, Zion heard rumors of advanced technology in a lab to the east coast, a place where data chips could turn Dolls into beings with personalities. perhaps he can revive keith back with his memory,  With a band of warriors, he set out to find this lab, hoping it would provide him with the power he craved.

    At the lab who hidden inside the mountain, Zion felt both excitement and apprehension. He hoped to find answers there. He met Wraith, a mysterious figure. Their meeting became a turning point.

    The shadows of his past remained, but with Wraith''s help, Zion saw a way forward. He was determined to rise from his past, to become a powerful ruler. He prepared to embrace both darkness and light, ready to make his mark on the world.

 Chapter 60 The Heist

    Meanwhile, in a wacky corner of the winter war, back in early December 2404 when Hazel was still hopelessly lost in the Altai maze before christmas,

    Mei and her squad were deep behind enemy lines, infiltrating General Sima¡¯s base in the South Altai Gulag. they are one best of wanderers and some mercenary who brazen enough to that

    ¡°Alright, team,¡± Mei whispered, her breath puffing out like a dragon in the frosty air. The tension in the air was palpable, a stark reminder of the chaos unfolding outside the walls of General Sima¡¯s base. ¡°I¡¯ve neutralized the armory guards, so we now have access to explosives! This could turn the tide in the ongoing conflict. Next stop, the watchtowers!¡±

    Kirk, a man with short silver hair, shot her a conspiratorial wink. ¡°Seduction tactics again, Mei? You¡¯re not planning to charm the guards with your dazzling smile, are you?¡±

    ¡°Hey, you know me too well,¡± she replied with a playful smirk, her mind already racing with mischievous possibilities.

    As they moved stealthily through the shadows, the distant sounds of gunfire echoed, a grim reminder of the stakes at play. The Red Nation''s forces were advancing, and every second counted. Mei felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders; their success could shift the balance of power in the Altai region.

    After planting explosives with the precision of a master chef icing a cake, they shared a silent high-five. But their victory was short-lived when Red Army soldiers appeared, suspicion etched on their faces

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± one barked, crossing his arms like a bouncer at a club.

    ¡°Uh, we¡¯re just here to inspect the sentry,¡± Kirk stammered, trying to sound convincing but failing spectacularly.

    ¡°Yeah? So why are you here when you¡¯re not supposed to?¡± the soldier shot back,

    Just as the situation was about to spiral into chaos, Vance a man with brown hair, their unseen ally, emerged from the shadows like a ninja in a bad action movie. With a swift motion, he shot the guard with a silenced pistol. ¡°Thanks me later. Now let¡¯s clean this mess up,¡± he said coolly, these trio are the CAD team , a wanderer operators,

    Kirk and Mei exchanged relieved glances as they followed Vance to General Sima¡¯s office. ¡°He¡¯s probably hiding in the mine. Only high-ranking officials and authorized guards can access it,¡± Vance explained,

    Mei nodded, her mind churning. ¡°We can use the explosives at the watchtower as cover for our infiltration. Set them off just after we enter.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but they¡¯ll be on high alert once we do that,¡± Vance cautioned, eyes narrowing

    Kirk¡¯s eyes widened in realization. ¡°Wait, are you saying we¡¯re sacrificing ourselves for this assassination?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s find a better way, then,¡± Vance suggested, scratching his head.

    Taking a deep breath, Mei began to devise another plan. ¡°Kirk, you¡¯re a pretty boy, right?¡±

    Kirk blushed. ¡°Why are you asking me?¡±

    ¡°Your looks might charm the guards,¡± she said with a smirk.

    ¡°You want me to seduce the guard?¡± he replied incredulously, his face turning as red as a tomato.

    Vance raised an eyebrow. ¡°How do you know they¡¯re not straight, Mei?¡±

    With a confident grin, Mei pulled out her lipstick and began to apply it, transforming herself into a distraction. ¡°Watch me.¡±

    Vance and Kirk exchanged looks, both impressed and slightly bewildered. As Mei approached the guards, they were too captivated by her charm to notice the imminent danger.

    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s our cue,¡± Vance whispered. He and Kirk swiftly scaled the fence while Mei kept the guards occupied, her charm working like magic.

    Once over the fence, they regrouped, the tension palpable. ¡°That was awesome! You actually succeeded at seducing a guard,¡± Kirk said, admiration in his voice.

    ¡°I know,¡± Mei replied, her smirk returning,

    As they navigated the mine¡¯s labyrinthine corridors, Vance activated his AI sensor. ¡°-30¡ãC temperatures, biting winds, barbed wire fences, and armed guards patrolling every thirty minutes. We need to split up to cover more ground and find Sima¡¯s office.¡±

    As they exchanged determined nods, the air crackled with tension. The ancient prisoner building was their best bet for locating General Sima,. The True Horde tank division was looming, and they needed to move fast!

    ¡°What happens after we find Sima?¡± Kirk asked, trying to keep his voice steady,

    ¡°Capture or kill,¡± Vance replied casually, raising an eyebrow. ¡°What? You got a crush on him or something?¡±

    Kirk felt his irritation bubble. ¡°No! I¡¯m just a professional! Capturing him alive is easier to interrogate than a corpse!¡±

    ¡°True, but capturing him won¡¯t be a walk in the park. We¡¯re outnumbered,¡± Vance cautioned, ¡°Let¡¯s save the capture strategy for when we know his location.¡±

    As they navigated the maze of mine tunnels, s. The flickering lights cast eerie shadows, and every creak sounded like a ghost whispering

    Suddenly, they spotted scientists huddled around a bizarre machine, their lab coats stark against the drab surroundings. Curiosity tugged at Kirk and Mei, but they knew better than to poke the bear.

    ¡°Look, we¡¯re running out of time. We need to head towards the ancient prisoner building,¡± Kirk urged, his voice a mix of urgency and excitement.

    ¡°Right! Let¡¯s secure Sima first!¡± Vance agreed, and as they approached the building, they noticed two guards stationed at the entrance, with a camera perched above

    ¡°How do we take down the guards without being seen by that camera?¡± Kirk pondered, scratching his head.

    ¡°What if I distract them? The camera is too high to see me,¡± Vance suggested, his eyes narrowing with determination.

    ¡°Go for it!¡± Kirk replied, trusting Vance¡¯s

    Vance sauntered toward the guards, a casual air about him as he pretended to be lost. ¡°Hey, fellas, I forgot something. Can you help me out?¡±

    The guards exchanged skeptical glances but seemed willing to oblige. Kirk watched, heart racing, as Vance led the guards away from the camera¡¯s view.

    Then, with a sudden yelp, Vance clutched his leg dramatically. ¡°Arrgh! My leg is cramping! Help me!¡± He collapsed to the ground, putting on an impressive act worthy of an Oscar.

    Kirk couldn¡¯t help but smile at the cleverness of the ruse. The guards rushed to Vance¡¯s side, genuine concern etched on their faces.

    ¡°Thanks, and sorry about this... hey, look! Stalin¡¯s ghost behind you!¡± Vance shouted, springing into action and tasing both guards before they could react.

    As they crumpled to the ground, Kirk nodded in awe. ¡°That¡¯s a damn cool move, Vance. You can stop with the ghost stories now.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Let¡¯s hide these bodies,¡± Vance chuckled, quickly dragging the guards out of sight. He then took aim at the camera, silencing it with a well-placed shot.

    With the camera disabled, a sense of relief washed over them. However, the reinforced steel door loomed ahead,

    ¡°This door looks tough. We might have to do this the hard way,¡± Kirk said, eyeing the obstacle like it owed him money.

    Vance raised an eyebrow. ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°Blasting it open would be the easiest way, but we need explosives,¡± Kirk replied, glancing around for any tools.

    ¡°Maybe there¡¯s a mechanism to open it? A manual override?¡± Vance suggested, examining the area

    ¡°Good idea. But I don¡¯t see any keys or cards on the guards,¡± Kirk said, peering at the door¡¯s fortified exterior.

    Just then, Vance noticed a faint glow coming from the door handle. ¡°Look! There¡¯s a keycard reader on the knob.¡±

    Kirk¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Great. Let¡¯s brute force it or find a keycard that¡¯ll work.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯ve never encountered something like this before,¡± Vance admitted, scratching his head.

    ¡°Me neither. We don¡¯t have much time before the True Horde arrives,¡± Kirk urged, glancing at his watch like it was a ticking time bomb.

    ¡°Let¡¯s try this: you and Mei act as guards, and I¡¯ll find someone to help. Play it cool,¡± Vance instructed.

    Kirk and Mei nodded, preparing themselves for the ruse. ¡°Just make sure to bluff if you can¡¯t open the door,¡± Kirk said. ¡°We¡¯ll have your back.¡±

    Vance disappeared deeper into the mine, and about ten minutes later, he returned with a portly officer, visibly tipsy. ¡°Here, man! Can you open it? General Sima needs to take a piss!¡± Vance exclaimed, barely containing his laughter.

    Kirk and Mei snickered at the sight of the drunken officer. ¡°Well played, Vance. Let¡¯s see if he¡¯s dumb enough to open the door for us,¡± Kirk whispered.

    The officer stumbled forward, fumbling with the keycard reader as he tried to unlock the door. ¡°Uh, how do we open this?¡± he mumbled, clearly out of his depth.

    ¡°Never mind. Where¡¯s a higher officer nearby?¡± Vance probed, shaking the officer gently.

    The officer mumbled incoherently, his drunkenness evident. ¡°I dunno, man¡­¡±

    ¡°Looks like he¡¯s useless,¡± Kirk said, rolling his eyes.

    With a swift motion, Vance punched the officer, knocking him out cold. ¡°I¡¯ll disguise myself as him and head deeper into the mine.¡±

    Kirk and Mei exchanged glances, impressed by Vance¡¯s quick thinking. ¡°Good plan. Just don¡¯t get caught,¡± Kirk warned as Vance donned the officer¡¯s clothes.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Once Vance was disguised, he ventured further into the mine, where he encountered a lab-coated technician. ¡°How is the project down there?¡± Vance inquired, feigning authority.

    The technician was taken aback. ¡°Uh, the project is going well, sir. The power cell generation has increased, and the new plasma gun is about to be mass-produced.¡±

    ¡°Sounds cool. Why is General Sima producing it in a remote area like this?¡± Vance asked, maintaining his cover.

    The technician shrugged, oblivious to the deception. ¡°It¡¯s less visible and more secure from infiltration.¡±

    ¡°Got it. Where¡¯s the engineer¡¯s quarters? We need to fix a door issue,¡± Vance pressed.

    The technician pointed down the corridor. ¡°Over there, sir. They handle all technical problems.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Vance said, striding toward the engineer¡¯s building. Once inside, he found a middle-aged engineer buried in paperwork.

    ¡°Officer, what¡¯s the issue?¡± the engineer asked, looking up with curiosity.

    ¡°Can¡¯t open a door both from inside and outside,¡± Vance stated, trying to sound authoritative.

    ¡°Really? That¡¯s strange,¡± the engineer replied, intrigued. ¡°You might need a specific keycard.¡±

    ¡°Look, I¡¯m a soldier, not an engineer. Just go check it out,¡± Vance insisted, trying to maintain control of the situation.

    ¡°Of course, sir. I¡¯ll gather my team,¡± the engineer said, a hint of confusion in his voice.

    Together, they walked back to the door. The engineer inspected it closely, noting the malfunctioning keycard reader. ¡°It¡¯s stuck, possibly due to a faulty reader.¡±

    ¡°Can you open it?¡± Vance asked, the urgency in his voice palpable.

    The engineer nodded, pulling out various tools. As he tested different keycards, Kirk and Mei waited nervously, eyes darting between the engineer and the door.

    Finally, the engineer found a working keycard, and with a satisfying click, the door swung open. ¡°The original keycard must be faulty,¡± he said, handing the spare keycard to Vance.

    ¡°Thank you, and God bless you,¡± Vance said, tapping the engineer¡¯s shoulder with genuine gratitude.

    The engineer nodded, relieved that his superior was kind. As he began to fix the keycard reader, Vance turned to Kirk and Mei. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go find Sima.¡±

    With their path now clear, the trio stepped into the unknown, ready to confront whatever awaited them in the depths of the mine.

    Vance ventured deeper into the mine, Kirk trailing closely while Mei covered their six. The further they pushed into the darkness, the more the light seemed to dwindle, transforming the walls into shadowy figures. Vance navigated cautiously through the dimly lit passageways, his instincts heightened.

    ¡°Look at this iron bar,¡± he remarked, running his fingers over the cool, solid metal. ¡°A relic from the Soviet era, and still not rusty. Impressive.¡±

    He scanned the long, identical hallways flanked by doors that could belong to any military barracks. There were no signs to indicate General Sima¡¯s office, and Vance felt the weight of uncertainty press on him. ¡°We¡¯re going to get lost easily in here. Alright, let¡¯s keep moving.¡±

    To avoid confusion, Vance marked the wall with his dagger as they walked, leaving a trail to follow. After several minutes of navigating the maze, they reached another intersection of hallways, each one branching off into the unknown.

    ¡°It¡¯s been ten minutes already,¡± Vance noted, glancing at his watch. ¡°We should split up. It¡¯ll be faster this way.¡±

    Kirk nodded in agreement, and Vance decided to go alone, relying on his agility and stealth. Mei stayed with Kirk, the cautious duo ready to tackle the oppressive darkness together.

    ¡°Who in their right mind would choose this place for an office?¡± Vance muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as he pushed further into the gloom.

    As he explored, a dim light flickered from a cell at the end of the hallway. Drawing his gun, he approached cautiously. Inside, a figure slumped in the corner, clad in the stark white of a prisoner''s uniform. Their eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Vance.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Vance demanded, his voice low and tense. ¡°A prisoner?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ I¡¯m a prisoner. Who are you?¡± the figure replied, fear lacing their voice.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to kill Sima,¡± Vance said bluntly.

    The figure''s fear intensified, and he pressed himself against the corner of the cell, trembling. ¡°Please¡­ don¡¯t hurt me!¡±

    The figure hesitated, panic evident in his demeanor. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m just a prisoner. I don¡¯t know why you want to kill General Sima.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my mission to end this war,¡± Vance replied, his tone unyielding.

    ¡°I understand,¡± the figure said, his voice shaky. ¡°I can¡¯t stop you from killing him, but I beg you to spare my life.¡±

    ¡°Why are you locked in here?¡± Vance asked, intrigued despite himself.

    Taking a deep breath, the figure seemed to accept his fate. ¡°I¡¯m a prisoner of war. I was part of the Red Nation, captured on the battlefield. They haven¡¯t tortured me, but I¡¯ve been locked in this cell for some time now.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit. You must be some sort of high rank. What¡¯s your name?¡± Vance pressed, skepticism in his voice.

    ¡°I might be high-ranking, but I¡¯ve been stripped of my rank and equipment. My name is Sima Yijin,¡± the figure snapped, irritation seeping through his fear.

    ¡°Are you a deserter? Related to General Sima, perhaps? Like¡­ twins?¡± Vance probed.

    Sima Yijin froze at the mention of twins. ¡°Yes¡­ I¡¯m the identical twin brother of General Sima. But how do you know about our relation?¡±

    ¡°Your damn name,¡± Vance replied, his tone flat.

    Sima Yijin¡¯s eyes narrowed, tension rising. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m Sima Yijin. But do you actually believe I¡¯m his twin?¡±

    ¡°Not sure¡­ anyway. Do you know where he is right now?¡± Vance shot back.

    Surprised by the sudden question, Sima Yijin hesitated. ¡°Yes¡­ General Sima is currently in that office.¡± He pointed down the hallway.

    Vance turned and moved toward the indicated office, his heart racing. But as he reached the door, two armored guards suddenly opened fire. He barely ducked in time, bullets ricocheting off the walls around him.

    ¡°Damn!¡± Vance grunted, scrambling for cover. The guards were heavily armed, and he needed a plan.

    Vance pulled out a stun grenade and hurled it toward the guards. The explosive detonated with a deafening bang, dazing them momentarily. He took advantage of the chaos, but his bullets ricocheted off the guards¡¯ armor, doing little to stop them.

    ¡°Vance,¡± he heard Kirk¡¯s voice crackle over the comms. ¡°Where are you?¡±

    ¡°I think I found the general¡¯s location, but I¡¯m pinned down by guards. Get over here now. I¡¯m in the west area, just follow my marks on the wall!¡±

    Kirk and Mei moved quickly, and within minutes, they arrived at Vance¡¯s location.

    ¡°Get down!¡± Vance shouted as Kirk and Mei ducked, knowing they were in danger. The guards, still stunned, were an intimidating sight, their heavy armor glinting ominously in the dim light.

    Kirk and Mei exchanged glances, assessing the guards¡¯ movements. They needed to act quickly; time was not on their side.

    Spotting a small gap between the guards as they shifted, Kirk signaled to Mei. They rushed in from opposite sides, catching the guards off guard and forcing them into a melee.

    Vance watched, eager to join the fray, but the close quarters made it difficult to take a clean shot. Kirk and Mei were fast and agile, keeping the guards on their toes.

    ¡°Fuck! What should I do?¡± Vance muttered, trying to find an opening. Just then, Kirk managed to kick one guard¡¯s weapon toward Vance.

    ¡°Grab it!¡± Kirk yelled as the weapon flew into Vance''s reach.

    Vance snatched the assault rifle and shouted, ¡°Mei, Kirk, duck now!¡±

    They immediately obeyed, dropping to the ground just as Vance squeezed the trigger. Bullets tore through the air, striking the guard and sending him crashing to the floor.

    ¡°Good job! Now, to the general,¡± Vance said, adrenaline pumping through him.

    The office door loomed just ahead. ¡°Let''s breach it. I¡¯ll throw a stun grenade, then we go in,¡± Vance instructed.

    Kirk nodded, pulling out his stun grenade as they approached the door. ¡°Ready.¡±

    ¡°Three¡­ two¡­ one!¡± Vance flung the door open and Kirk tossed in the grenade. A loud bang echoed as they charged inside, but what they found sent a chill down their spines.

    General Sima lay lifeless on the floor, blood pooling beneath him. A gun rested beside his hand, and the tragic scene was all too clear.

    ¡°Did he die before we got here?¡± Kirk asked, his voice heavy with concern.

    Vance knelt beside the body, examining the scene. ¡°Perhaps. He must have heard the guards firing.¡±

    The warmth of General Sima''s body still lingered, a grim reminder of his final moments. There were no signs of struggle; it was evident this was a suicide.

    ¡°Well, at least our mission is complete,¡± Vance said, his voice low. ¡°We made sure he didn¡¯t escape before our army arrived.¡±

    Kirk nodded, his expression somber. ¡°It¡¯s sad that General Sima chose to end his life. No one should feel that desperate.¡±

    Mei stood silently, the weight of the moment settling over them like a heavy shroud. The mission had been successful, but the cost was far greater than they had anticipated.

    ¡°Alright, how about we check out that weird machine down in the mine?¡± Vance suggested, his curiosity piqued.

    Kirk and Mei exchanged hesitant glances. They had already completed their primary objective, but the lure of uncovering something valuable was hard to resist.

    ¡°It might be worth a try,¡± Kirk replied cautiously. ¡°That machine could be something unusual, and we don¡¯t want to miss out on any opportunities.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve heard rumors it might produce some kind of weapon,¡± Vance added, excitement creeping into his voice. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡±

    The trio moved carefully through the dimly lit corridors, keeping their eyes peeled for any lurking guards. Mei scanned the doorways with a practiced eye, her footsteps light and silent, while Kirk brought up the rear, his senses on high alert.

    As they neared the exit from the prison area to the mine complex, a violent explosion rocked the foundation, sending shockwaves through the air.

    ¡°Whoa!¡± Kirk shouted, losing his balance as the ground shook beneath them. The explosion had triggered a mini-earthquake, destabilizing the already precarious structure of the base.

    ¡°Damn! My ears are ringing! What kind of ammo are they using?¡± Vance grimaced, pressing a hand to his ear, pain radiating through him.

    ¡°Sounds like something pretty powerful,¡± Kirk replied, concern etching his features. ¡°Maybe a special weapon that produces shockwaves.¡±

    They continued on until they reached the exit, only to find their path blocked by a massive landslide caused by the explosion.

    ¡°Great. We can¡¯t use this exit,¡± Kirk muttered, studying the rubble. ¡°We need to find another way out.¡±

    ¡°Damn it. Let¡¯s go deeper into the mine and hope there¡¯s another exit,¡± Vance said, leading the way. Kirk and Mei followed, anxiety gnawing at them. This mine was their only chance for escape.

    As they delved further, they noticed a group of guards and workers gathered in a nearby building.

    ¡°Let¡¯s blend in,¡± Vance whispered. ¡°They don¡¯t know we¡¯re part of the True Horde yet.¡±

    Kirk and Mei hesitated, glancing at each other. Blending in was risky, but they realized the guards and workers were still unaware of the attack on their base. They followed Vance into the crowd, trying to look inconspicuous.

    ¡°Road is blocked, and we¡¯ve lost contact with outside,¡± a worker said, worry evident in his voice.

    ¡°The base has been overrun by the enemy,¡± a soldier added grimly.

    ¡°We have to find a way to contact our command and get help,¡± the worker replied, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone.

    Listening to the conversation, Kirk felt a surge of hope. If the guards were planning to contact their command for surrender, it might provide a way for them to escape without raising suspicion.

    ¡°Is there really only one way out?¡± Vance asked, feigning concern.

    ¡°Yeah, the main route is blocked. We¡¯re trapped here,¡± the soldier admitted, frustration tightening his features.

    Kirk¡¯s heart sank. They needed to escape, and the last thing they wanted was to be trapped here with the guards. ¡°Is there no other exit route?¡± he pressed.

    Vance, sensing the tension rising, asked the crowd, ¡°Do you have any tools to dig our way out?¡±

    The guards and workers exchanged wary glances, suspicion creeping into their expressions as they slowly approached Vance.

    ¡°What? This used to be a mine, right?¡± Vance continued, trying to maintain his composure.

    The guards didn¡¯t respond immediately, and the atmosphere grew thick with unease as they surrounded Vance, Kirk, and Mei.

    ¡°Hey, do we have a new weapon?¡± Vance blurted out, hoping to deflect their suspicion.

    The mention of a new weapon caused the crowd to tense further, with guards shifting uncomfortably.

    ¡°Alright, do you all want to survive or not? Brace yourselves!¡± Vance declared, causing the crowd to stop in their tracks, confused.

    ¡°Good. Now take a deep breath¡ªout! We need to work calmly to survive,¡± he instructed, his voice steady.

    Vance then pointed to a man in a lab coat. ¡°Can our new weapon blast through the blockage?¡±

    The lab-coated man hesitated before responding, ¡°The new weapon definitely has that power. It can blast through pretty much any obstacle.¡±

    ¡°Good. Then let¡¯s work together to blast our way out,¡± Vance urged.

    The lab coat man turned to the others, his authority rising. ¡°Everyone, take your positions! We¡¯re blasting our way out of here!¡±

    Kirk and Mei were assigned to help the blast team, feeling relieved that they wouldn¡¯t have to resort to violence. They gathered supplies nearby to sustain the workers and guards while they prepared for the blast.

    As the device was wheeled into position, the lab-coat man explained, ¡°This device is a prototype, but it needs some configuration before it can fire.¡±

    Kirk and Mei sensed the intensity in the air as everyone worked to set up the device. Anticipation hung heavy as they waited for the blast, hoping it would clear their escape route.

    With a sudden roar, debris and stones flew as the device detonated, filling the tunnels with chaos. Dust swirled around them, and the blocked passage partially cleared, revealing a narrow opening.

    But just as hope surged, the machine sputtered and came to a halt.

    ¡°Damn! It¡¯s burned out,¡± the lab coat man sighed. ¡°We need to fix it. This will take a while.¡±

    Kirk and Mei exchanged frustrated glances. The machine had failed them just when they needed it most.

    ¡°While the workers fix the machine, let¡¯s gather food and water nearby,¡± Vance suggested, trying to keep spirits up despite the setback.

    Reluctantly, Kirk and Mei followed Vance¡¯s lead, knowing they needed to prepare for whatever lay ahead. They began searching for supplies, hoping to gather enough to sustain the workers and guards during the delay.

    As Vance worked, he found himself thinking of Sima¡¯s twin, still locked away in his cell. Returning to the prison area, he approached the somber figure. ¡°Hello again. Your brother is dead.¡±

    Sima Yijin remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. A muscle twitched in his jaw. He got what he deserved, a bitter voice whispered in his mind. But another, quieter voice countered, He was still my brother. It was a reaction Vance hadn¡¯t anticipated; he expected some flicker of emotion,

    ¡°Do you want to be free?¡± Vance asked, trying to provoke a response.

    Still, Sima Yijin said nothing, his gaze unwavering. Vance¡¯s patience wore thin. ¡°Yes or no?¡±

    The silence stretched uncomfortably. Vance sensed that Sima was lost in thought, trapped in his own mind.

    ¡°Alright, goodbye, I guess¡­¡± Vance muttered, walking away as Sima remained silent.

    Rejoining Kirk and Mei, Vance checked his radio, frowning as he realized it was still too deep to get a signal. ¡°We¡¯re too deep to use the radio,¡± he said, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

    Hours passed, and just as hope began to wane, the machine roared back to life once more. Light flickered as it began firing again, but after only a few meters, it sputtered and stopped again.

    ¡°Damn it!¡± Vance exclaimed, exasperation rising. ¡°We¡¯re going to be stuck here forever!¡±

    The machine¡¯s repeated failures were testing everyone¡¯s patience. Kirk and Mei exchanged glances,

    Kirk and Mei exchanged glances, disbelief etched on their faces as they watched the machine sputter and fail once more. Each attempt to repair it seemed to only exacerbate their frustration. The device barely managed to clear a few meters before it stalled again, leaving them feeling helpless.

    ¡°Alright, everyone, good job so far. Let¡¯s take a break,¡± Vance announced, glancing at the weary workers around him.

    The lab-coated man and the other workers nodded, grateful for the chance to rest. The repair process had proven to be far more arduous than anyone had anticipated, and fatigue was beginning to set in for everyone, including Kirk and Mei.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the issue?¡± Vance asked, looking over at the lab coat man as they settled down. ¡°Is the machine overheating?¡±

    The lab coat man and his team began inspecting the machine, murmuring amongst themselves. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s getting too hot, which triggers the shut-off mechanism,¡± he explained. ¡°The heat is just too intense.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Vance said, scratching his head. ¡°I¡¯m no tech expert, but I know that with the Vickers machine gun, they literally put water in the barrels to prevent overheating. Maybe we could try something similar?¡±

    The lab coat man¡¯s eyes lit up with understanding. ¡°That makes sense! We can attach a water hose to keep it cool. With a steady flow of water, we can avoid overheating.¡±

    ¡°Can you do that?¡± Vance asked.

    ¡°Absolutely. It¡¯s doable!¡± the lab coat man replied, quickly rallying the workers to find a hose. Within moments, they had it connected, and the lab coat man confidently restarted the machine. To everyone¡¯s relief, it roared back to life.

    ¡°Well, it feels great to help,¡± Vance said, a triumphant smile spreading across his face.

    The machine hummed steadily now, blasting rocks and debris from the tunnel, inching their escape closer.

    After some hours of hard work, they finally emerged from the mine, breathing in the fresh air for the first time in what felt like ages. Kirk and Mei stepped outside, relief flooding through them as they took in the midday sun, their faces breaking into smiles.

    ¡°Yay!¡± they cheered, but their jubilation quickly faded as they took in the devastation surrounding the base.

    ¡°What happened here?¡± Kirk murmured, his heart sinking. The base lay in ruins, signs of a catastrophic battle evident everywhere.

    As they surveyed the destruction, they spotted the wreckage and bodies of both Red Army soldiers and True Horde fighters scattered across the ground. The carnage shocked them, a grim reminder of the battle that had unfolded.

    ¡°This place looks like a war zone,¡± Mei said, her voice tinged with disbelief. ¡°What could have caused this?¡±

    Vance grasped his radio, attempting to contact HQ. ¡°Command, this is Vance. The enemy¡¯s Strato Cannon hit the base when we took it. The entire tank division is annihilated.¡±

    After a pause, the voice on the other end replied, ¡°Copy that, Command. But we found General Sima dead. We request extraction.¡±

    ¡°Roger that. Your extraction point will be in Yagil,¡± came the response.

    Vance frowned, glancing at Kirk and Mei. ¡°But that¡¯s over 40 kilometers away! Just send a helicopter!¡±

    Silence hung heavily after his plea, leaving Vance feeling increasingly anxious. It seemed the command had bigger problems to handle, and his request for immediate extraction had been ignored.

    ¡°Alright, orders received. Out,¡± Vance said, turning to Kirk and Mei, who were still processing the devastation around them.

    Kirk and Mei stood in shock, their faces pale as they took in the destruction. They realized how perilous their situation had become, trapped deep behind enemy lines with no clear way out.

    As they stood in silence, the workers who had emerged from the mine began surveying the wreckage, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief at the scene before them.

    After a long, tense moment, Vance broke the silence. ¡°Alright, guys. Let¡¯s gather supplies. We¡¯re walking to Yagil. It¡¯s about 40 kilometers west from here.¡±

    Kirk and Mei exchanged nervous glances. The long trek ahead felt daunting, but they knew there was no other choice. They quickly agreed to Vance¡¯s plan, starting to gather whatever supplies they could find.

    Before they left, Vance decided to check on Sima Yijin again. He retraced his steps back to the prison area, pulled out his gun, and shot the lock off the cell door.

    ¡°Thanks me later,¡± he quipped as he opened it.

    Sima Yijin was still sitting in the corner, his expression unchanged. ¡°What took you so long?¡± he asked, his tone flat.

    ¡°Follow me,¡± Vance said, leading him out of the cell and toward the supply storage area. Sima Yijin fell in step behind him, silent but compliant.

    As they reached the storage area, Vance greeted the workers and lab-coated man, who were busy organizing supplies. After a brief farewell, Vance, Kirk, Mei, and Sima Yijin set off into the harsh winter steppe, the biting cold wind whipping around them.

 Chapter 61 Escort the gift

    The journey was grueling, the snow crunching beneath their boots as they pressed on. Mei and Kirk stayed silent, the weight of their circumstances heavy on their shoulders. Eventually, they could no longer hold back their curiosity.

    ¡°So, Vance, who¡¯s this guy with us?¡± Kirk finally asked, glancing back at Sima Yijin.

    Vance turned to face them. ¡°This is Sima Yijin, General Sima Shan¡¯s identical twin brother. I found him locked up in the mine and decided to release him. He was a hostage of the Red Army, just in case his brother ever rebelled.¡±

    ¡°I see. He must have valuable information for us,¡± Kirk said, nodding thoughtfully.

    ¡°Exactly. Sima Yijin might know something about the Red Army and their operations. We¡¯ll talk more once we¡¯ve had a chance to rest,¡± Vance replied.

    As the group continued their trek, they spotted a forest area in the distance.

    ¡°Let¡¯s rest there,¡± Vance suggested, pointing. The trees promised some protection from the relentless cold.

    They made their way to the forest, finally able to take a break from the bitter wind. Huddled against a tree, they caught their breath, grateful for the shelter.

    ¡°It¡¯s about 32 kilometers to Yagil,¡± Vance announced. ¡°We¡¯d better set up camp for the night and continue tomorrow.¡±

    The proposal met with tired nods.

    Inside their cramped tent, Kirk voiced a concern that had been nagging at him. ¡°Why didn¡¯t the people in the mine know about General Sima¡¯s death? And why was his twin locked up in the same place?¡±

    Vance¡¯s brow furrowed as he glanced at Sima Yijin, who had been silent throughout the evening, sitting across from them.

    ¡°Ehem¡­ I think it¡¯s time you spoke up,¡± Vance finally said, looking at Sima.

    Sima Yijin took a moment, his expression unreadable as he considered his words.

    ¡°Why was your brother holding you captive?¡± Vance pressed gently.

    Sima Yijin sighed, the weight of his situation heavy on him. ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± he began,

    Sima Yijin finally broke his silence, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of sadness. ¡°My twin decided to lock me up after the war between the Blood Khaganate and the Red Army. He feared I would lead a rebellion against the Red Army.¡±

    ¡°Spicy,¡± Vance replied, eyebrow raised. ¡°So there¡¯s potential for rebellion. But what¡¯s up with that sophisticated machine they¡¯re trying to build in the mine?¡±

    Sima Yijin continued, his expression serious. ¡°My brother is developing a highly sophisticated machine to counter the advanced technology wielded by the Red Army. This machine could be a game-changer when the two sides clash again.¡±

    Vance¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°What does your brother¡¯s true loyalty belong to?¡±

    Sima looked away, contemplating the question. It was a loaded inquiry, one that could land him in the crossfire between the Red Army and his own twin.

    ¡°I think our superiors would love to hear that,¡± Vance said, pressing.

    Realizing he had no way out, Sima finally spoke. ¡°We¡¯re both from the Red Army, but my brother is far more ruthless. He¡¯ll do whatever it takes for victory, even if it means sacrificing lives. Me? I¡¯m loyal to both the Red Army and the Blood Khaganate.¡±

    ¡°Alright, so the reason he¡¯s hiding in the mine is for tactical purposes and secrecy?¡± Vance summarized.

    Sima nodded in agreement. ¡°Exactly. As the general, he¡¯s very strategic. Hiding in the mine provides a significant advantage for planning.¡±

    Vance exchanged glances with Kirk and Mei, a plan forming in his mind. But exhaustion weighed heavily on him. ¡°Let¡¯s rest. It¡¯s too much for one day.¡±

    The night passed, and as dawn broke, the team prepared for their journey back to the extraction point. After a quick breakfast, they resumed their trek, but soon found themselves resting on a hill.

    While sitting around, Kirk suddenly spotted something unusual on the horizon. ¡°Guys, look!¡± he exclaimed, squinting through his binoculars. ¡°It¡¯s an enemy light tank patrol, and they¡¯re moving fast!¡±

    ¡°not a santa claust? Do they see us?¡± Vance asked, tension creeping into his voice.

    Kirk focused intently. ¡°Yeah, they¡¯ve spotted us. They¡¯re closing in!¡±

    ¡°What do we do now?¡± Vance asked, urgency in his tone.

    With time running out, Kirk and Mei exchanged worried looks. They needed to act quickly.

    ¡°What if we bluff? Pretend we¡¯re retreating with General Sima?¡± Vance proposed, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

    Kirk raised an eyebrow. ¡°That might actually work.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Good. Sima¡¯s face is identical to his brother¡¯s. We can say we¡¯re retreating after the base was attacked,¡± Vance explained. ¡°Just follow my lead.¡±

    As the enemy light tank approached, Vance called out, ¡°Identify yourselves! We know you¡¯re back there!¡±

    Vance took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. ¡°My name is Vance. We¡¯re the Red Army, stranded here after our base was attacked. We¡¯re retreating with General Sima.¡±

    ¡°Come closer!¡± a soldier from the tank commanded, the cannon still aimed at them.

    ¡°General Sima is with me. We¡¯re unarmed and mean no harm,¡± Vance continued, raising his hands. He took slow, deliberate steps toward the tank.

    ¡°Hand over your ID card now!¡± the soldier ordered.

    Vance quickly handed over a fake ID card, his heart racing as the soldier scrutinized it.

    ¡°I see... Sergeant Vance. You said General Sima is still alive? Where is he?¡± the soldier asked.

    Vance seized the moment. ¡°Of course he¡¯s alive! He¡¯s right here with me¡­¡± He gestured to Sima Yijin behind him and whistled for Kirk and Mei to join them, who hesitantly revealed themselves.

    The red soldier¡¯s demeanor shifted as he dismounted the tank, saluting Sima Yijin. ¡°We¡¯re here to escort you, sir. Faking your death was a brilliant strategy.¡±

    Sima looked bewildered, glancing at Vance, who gave him a quick nudge. Understanding the charade, Sima returned the salute and climbed into the tank, still processing the bizarre situation.

    ¡°Sir, can we ride in the tank too? It¡¯s freezing out here,¡± Vance requested, trying to keep the atmosphere light despite the tension.

    Sima hesitated but nodded, allowing Vance, Kirk, and Mei to climb aboard. Inside, the space was cramped and bumpy, making it difficult to find a comfortable position as they jostled with every movement of the vehicle.

    ¡°I need to take a piss!¡± Vance suddenly declared, voice loud enough to catch everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°Just stop the tank for a second. I swear it¡¯ll be less than a minute!¡±

    The soldiers stared at him in disbelief as the tank came to a halt. The absurdity of the request caught them off guard, and Vance made his move. He crawled toward the hatch, shoving the commander out as he yelled, ¡°Now!¡±

    Kirk and Mei sprang into action, leaping from the tank to attack the stunned soldiers inside. Vance took advantage of the chaos, tackling the commander as he fell.

    ¡°Sleep tight,¡± Vance muttered, tazing the tank driver while Kirk and Mei subdued the other two soldiers.

    Within moments, the crew lay incapacitated, and the adrenaline surged through Kirk and Mei. ¡°Can you believe it? We actually pulled that off!¡± Kirk exclaimed, disbelief mingling with triumph.

    They quickly tossed the unconscious crew out of the tank, leaving them with some food and water. Vance turned to his companions. ¡°Alright, who can drive this thing?¡±

    Kirk and Mei raised their hands, eager to take the wheel. Each had experience with armored vehicles, their confidence shining through.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s move!¡± Vance urged, grinning as they set off in the captured tank.

    With the powerful vehicle rolling beneath them, they felt a renewed sense of safety. The tank¡¯s armor offered protection against any potential threats, and they could finally traverse the terrain with speed.

    ¡°Now we can reach the city in no time,¡± Vance said, excitement bubbling in his voice.

    As they navigated the narrow streets, Vance grabbed his radio. ¡°CAD team  to command. We¡¯ve reached the city for extraction. Just a heads up, we¡¯re riding in an enemy tank. Don¡¯t shoot!¡±

    ¡°Copy that,¡± the command responded, clearly surprised but relieved.

    Despite the awkward maneuvering required to navigate the tank through tight spaces, Kirk and Mei managed to drive it away from the danger, their spirits lifting with each passing kilometer.

    After what felt like an eternity, they finally arrived at the extraction point. Dismounting from the tank, they were greeted by a True Horde commander who raised an eyebrow at their unexpected ride.

    ¡°So, you found General Sima¡¯s twin and confirmed they¡¯re building a new weapon inside the mine? Well done, CAD team ! And you even delivered a new type of tank for us to study!¡± the commander praised.

    Kirk, Mei, and Vance exchanged glances, a wave of satisfaction washing over them. Their mission had been a success. They had gathered crucial intelligence and even secured a valuable asset for their forces.

    Later, at the year-end party in a bustling bar, the atmosphere was electric with celebration. Kirk, Mei, and Vance sat together, relishing the moment after their hard-earned victory.

    ¡°So, Mei,¡± Vance began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, ¡°I heard you¡¯ve been working with Alam for two years. What¡¯s he like?¡±

    Mei took a deep breath, mulling over her answer. ¡°Alam is a very open and cheerful person. He¡¯s quite tall, with a thick beard¡ªdefinitely interesting to be around.¡±

    Vance raised an eyebrow, smirking. ¡°Does he have a wife? I hear he¡¯s a bit of a womanizer!¡±

    Mei chuckled but shook her head. ¡°He does have a wife, and he¡¯s loyal to her. No cheating, I promise.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Vance feigned surprise. ¡°I guess he¡¯s good at keeping his personal life under wraps. And what about you, Mei? Any boyfriends or husbands hidden away?¡±

    Mei flashed a playful smile. ¡°Are you asking if I¡¯m a playgirl?¡±

    Vance glanced at Kirk, who quickly interjected, ¡°I have no wife or girlfriend either!¡±

    ¡°Ha! And you, Mei? Are you a playgirl?¡± Vance teased, winking.

    Mei laughed, a light sound that cut through the bar¡¯s chatter. ¡°I¡¯m not a playgirl. I¡¯m quite reserved and shy, so it¡¯s hard for anyone to win my heart.¡±

    Vance leaned in, a grin on his face. ¡°Interesting for a spy known for her seduction techniques.¡±

    Mei smirked, shaking her head. ¡°Just because I¡¯m trained in seduction doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ll use it on everyone. My skills are mission-focused.¡±

    ¡°Am I part of that mission?¡± Vance quipped, raising his glass.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Mei replied, laughter bubbling up again.

    As the night wore on, their camaraderie grew, filled with laughter and shared stories of their exploits. The weight of their recent battles faded, replaced by the warmth of friendship and newfound trust in each other.

    As the lively atmosphere of the bar pulsed around them, a man in casual attire with black hair settled near Mei and Kirk, a light smile gracing his lips as he took in the joyful crowd celebrating their success.

    ¡°It¡¯s a good sight, isn¡¯t it?¡± he remarked, his grin widening.

    Mei glanced at him, impressed by his calm demeanor. ¡°Yes, it is a good sight. Everyone¡¯s so happy to celebrate,¡± she replied, her friendly expression softening the moment.

    The man¡¯s gaze lingered on Mei, surprise flickering in his eyes at her warm smile. ¡°Hmm... you¡¯re smiling. That¡¯s a good sight too,¡± he said, returning her smile with one of his own.

    Feeling the weight of his gaze, Mei shyly lowered her eyes, a hint of blush creeping onto her cheeks. It was unusual for someone to be intrigued by her friendliness, and this unexpected attention sent a flutter through her chest.

    ¡°You have a unique smile,¡± he continued, taking a sip of his drink. ¡°It makes me feel¡­¡± His words trailed off as he searched for the right expression.

    Mei looked up, her smile widening as she met his gaze. ¡°I¡¯m a bit embarrassed to say this, but it¡¯s a genuine smile. I haven¡¯t smiled like this for a long time. It feels nice,¡± she admitted, her voice tinged with sincerity.

    Light¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn¡¯t expected such candidness, and a rosy hue crept across his cheeks. ¡°That¡¯s wonderful to hear,¡± he stammered, taking another sip to mask his flustered state. ¡°Your honesty is truly captivating.¡±

    Mei felt a thrill at his reaction, her own heart racing as she sensed his attraction. With a charming smile, she tilted her head, inviting him to continue.

    Light, feeling emboldened, leaned in closer. ¡°Can I ask you something?¡±

    ¡°Sure, what¡¯s your question?¡± she replied, her tone friendly and curious.

    Taking a deep breath, he asked, ¡°Is your smile genuine, or is it artificial? You know, like when someone fakes a smile?¡±

    Mei was taken aback by the innocent nature of his question. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her with such pure curiosity. A shy smile crept onto her face. ¡°I¡¯m embarrassed to say this, but it¡¯s genuine. I haven¡¯t smiled like this for a very long time.¡±

    Light¡¯s surprise deepened, and he felt a flutter in his chest. ¡°That¡¯s refreshing to hear,¡± he said, his nervousness palpable. ¡°I really like your honesty.¡±

    Mei giggled, her heart racing. ¡°Thank you! You know, I think the same about you. You seem quite charming.¡±

    Light¡¯s cheeks flushed deeper at her compliment, and he took a quick sip of his drink to compose himself. ¡°I do actually like your personality,¡± he replied, his voice wavering slightly.

    Seizing the moment, Mei leaned in closer, feeling the spark of attraction between them. ¡°Really? You can say that again!¡±

    Just then, Vance approached, smirking as he caught the exchange. ¡°Hey buddy, how about we give this new couple some space?¡±

    Kirk chuckled, nodding in agreement. ¡°Yeah, let them have their moment.¡±

    As Vance and Kirk settled at the bar, Vance turned to Kirk. ¡°So, why did you join the army?¡±

    Kirk sighed, swirling his drink. ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know. My life was pretty normal before¡ªjust a high school student with a girlfriend and good friends. Nothing troublesome at all.¡±

    ¡°Classic,¡± Vance said, taking a sip. ¡°Same here. I just felt like it was the right thing to do.¡±

    Kirk raised an eyebrow. ¡°Did you ever think your life would lead you here?¡±

    ¡°Not really. I just do the job. I never expected to be in this position. I thought I¡¯d join the army, get married, and live out my old age,¡± Vance said, shrugging.

    ¡°Sometimes, just going with the flow makes life easier,¡± Kirk suggested, taking another sip of his drink. ¡°Let the wind blow you wherever it wants.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I remember a book I read as a kid. It said if you just go with the flow, you¡¯ll end up with a boring life,¡± Vance replied, pondering the wisdom of the words.

    Kirk chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s an interesting perspective. I¡¯ve heard some philosophers say, ¡®Flow like water.¡¯ But I think your book makes a good point too.¡±

    ¡°Little surprises keep life interesting,¡± Vance said, his expression thoughtful.

    Kirk nodded, appreciating the insight. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to agree with you on that.¡±

    Meanwhile, Mei and Light were still locked in their own world, exchanging shy smiles and laughter as they navigated the delicate dance of attraction

 Chapter 62 Boomba

    Okay, so what''s really going on? Let''s rewind back to Zion. Mid-November 2404, and Zion''s looking pretty pleased with himself. He''s checking out the maps, a little smile playing on his lips. "Looks like things are going our way," he says, watching his Northern and Middle Armies take most of the Altai region. "Alam''s getting his butt kicked. We''re not stopping until it''s all ours."

    But then, things got a little¡­ complicated. Word came in that one of their units in the west had run into some serious trouble. Heavy fire from the mountains, then boom¡ªan avalanche blocked their escape route.

    Zion frowned. "Mountain fire and an avalanche? Sounds like Alam''s trying to be clever. But we''re not falling for that. We need to secure that west sector, fast. Gotta avoid that avalanche and keep pushing."

    Then, a Red general practically yelled into the comms, ¡°Sir! We¡¯ve got guys trapped in the Altai! They¡¯re completely cut off!¡±

    Zion took a breath. This was bad. "Alright," he said, trying to sound calm. "We can''t leave them hanging. We need to get them out, one way or another. Send in reinforcements. We need to relieve the pressure."

    General Sima, always eager for a fight, volunteered, "I''ll try to break through from the south."

    "Good thinking, Sima," Zion agreed. "You''re in charge of that. Make sure your troops are ready for anything. I''ll oversee the whole thing and help out where I can. We¡¯re getting those guys back.¡±

    While they were getting ready, a tank commander¡¯s voice crackled over the radio, ¡°Sir, we¡¯re under attack! They¡¯re coming from the high ground! They just popped up out of nowhere!¡±

    Zion paused. "A surprise attack, huh? They''re trying to overwhelm us with numbers. Hold the line! Don''t panic. We need to regroup."

    Days dragged by. Sima''s breakthrough attempt was a bust. The heavy equipment they needed to clear the roads kept getting shelled from the mountains.

    Zion¡¯s jaw tightened. He could feel a headache coming on. "Sima couldn''t break through, and now they''re picking off our equipment. We can''t rely on that anymore. Time for another meeting. We need a new plan to get those guys out."

    Back in California, at the war council, one of the Red generals suggested, ¡°Sir, what about airlifting supplies?¡±

    Zion nodded. "That''s a thought. But it''s a huge operation. Lots of logistics. And it''s risky."

    "Sir, they still have anti-air guns," an officer warned. "An airlift would be a sitting duck."

    "Good point," Zion said. "We need to figure out how strong those defenses are before we do anything. Let¡¯s look at all the options."

    Sima spoke up. "We need to get all the trapped guys together and then try to break through from the south. Maybe even blow up part of the mountain to make a new path."

    Zion considered this. "Moving them all at once would definitely concentrate our forces. And blowing up the mountain¡­ well, that¡¯s certainly¡­ dramatic."

    A Red officer looked a bit worried. ¡°Sir, blowing up a mountain? Isn¡¯t that¡­ a bit much?¡±

    Zion paused. ¡°It¡¯s definitely extreme. The environmental impact would be huge, and it would cost us a lot. But if it¡¯s the only way to save our troops, we can¡¯t rule it out.¡±

    Sima then mentioned, ¡°Our Strato Cannon will be ready in December. It sounds crazy, but it could actually work.¡±

    Zion grinned. "The Strato Cannon. Now that''s thinking big. It could blast a hole right through those mountains. Let''s keep that on the table."

    After a long pause, the same officer asked, ¡°So, what¡¯s the call?¡±

    Zion stood up straight. "We''re using the Strato Cannon. It''s crazy, I know, but it''s our best shot at getting our people back. Let''s get it ready."

    Somewhere in Hulun Buir, this massive cannon was sitting there under the big Mongolian sky. Guys were scrambling all over it, checking everything.

    ¡°Sir, the Strato Cannon is ready to go. It can launch a big payload over 1,150 kilometers,¡± one of the crew reported. ¡°But we need to do some more tests first.¡±

    Zion nodded. ¡°Make sure everything is perfect. We¡¯re not using it until it¡¯s ready.¡±

    ¡°Sir, where should we aim for the test?¡± another crew member asked.

    One of them suggested, ¡°To get the best accuracy, we should fire at maximum range. Maybe the Pacific or the Arctic? But¡­ you know¡­ international law and stuff.¡±

    Zion rubbed his chin. ¡°Firing into the ocean might cause some¡­ diplomatic issues. We need a target within our own territory. Safety first.¡±

    Sima joked, ¡°We could aim it at the Pacific and say hi to Jozen.¡±

    Zion chuckled. ¡°That would send a message, alright.¡±

    Then, a Red general cleared his throat, changing the subject. ¡°Sir, any plans for the end-of-year conference?¡±

    Zion thought for a second. ¡°Right. We need to show everyone how well we¡¯ve done this year. Talk about our military progress and our growing influence. And lay out our goals for next year.¡±

    The general nodded. ¡°Understood.¡±

    Meanwhile, the Strato Cannon slowly turned southeast. ¡°Three minutes to firing,¡± a crewman announced. ¡°Everyone, earplugs in! This is going to be loud!¡±

    When it fired, the ground shook, and the air smelled like burnt metal. Then, silence, except for the fading echo. On a monitor, a satellite image showed a small tsunami rippling across the ocean.

    ¡°Well, that worked,¡± Zion said, watching the image. ¡°A small tsunami. Nothing too serious. But we should keep an eye on it.¡±

    Sima grinned. ¡°Two birds with one stone. We showed Jozen what we¡¯re capable of.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Zion nodded, feeling pretty good about himself. ¡°Exactly. That sent a clear message.¡±

    One of the generals breathed out. ¡°That was¡­ intense.¡±

    The crew member then said, ¡°Ready to aim at the Altai Mountains, sir. To make a path for the rescue.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t disagree,¡± Zion said, adrenaline still coursing. ¡°Let¡¯s not dwell on the past. We have the Strato Cannon prepared. It¡¯s time to save our soldiers.¡±

    Later at December 2404, we still with red head zion.  he met with his lieutenant, Keith, who had just returned from dealing with rebels in South America. ¡°I heard the news,¡± Keith said, raising an eyebrow. ¡°So, you¡¯re about to start World War IV, huh?¡±

    Zion smiled slightly. ¡°The news does spread quickly. Yes, it seems we¡¯re at the brink of a major conflict. But I¡¯m ready to handle it.¡±

    Keith squinted. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s happening too quickly?¡±

    Zion paused, contemplating. ¡°I understand your concern. The situation is escalating rapidly, but we must take swift action when required. We can¡¯t afford to hesitate.¡±

    ¡°I just hope you remember this isn¡¯t an arena. When the game¡¯s over, there won¡¯t be any cheering crowd or judges to help us,¡± Keith warned.

    Zion nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. War is not a game. I take my decisions seriously, and I¡¯m aware of their consequences. I¡¯m committed to leading our forces to victory.¡±

    ¡°Understood. No regrets,¡± Keith replied, determination in his voice.

    Zion leaned back in his chair, a slight smile playing on his lips. ¡°It seems we¡¯re making good progress in the war,¡± he mused, surveying the control room bustling with activity. ¡°The Northern and Middle Armies have secured most of the Altai region. This is a testament to our superiority over Alam. We won¡¯t stop until we¡¯ve claimed all his territory.¡±

    But the atmosphere shifted dramatically one afternoon when reports of heavy fire erupted from the west sector. An avalanche, triggered by enemy artillery, blocked the route for Zion''s forces.

    Pausing, Zion¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°Heavy fire from the mountains? An avalanche? Alam is preparing a trap. But we won¡¯t be fooled by such tricks. Let¡¯s move quickly to secure the west sector and avoid the avalanche.¡±

    His red general quickly interrupted, ¡°Sir! Our soldiers are trapped in the Altai region. All routes are blocked!¡±

    Zion nodded slowly, his mind racing. ¡°We can¡¯t leave them to be slaughtered. We must find a way to rescue them. Reinforcements must be sent immediately.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll try to break through from the south,¡± General Sima offered, determination glinting in his eyes.

    ¡°Good thinking, General. You¡¯re in charge of the southern breakthrough. Ensure your troops are well-supported and ready for a fight. I¡¯ll coordinate the overall operation,¡± Zion replied, urgency creeping into his voice.

    As they prepared, a tank commander¡¯s voice crackled over the radio. ¡°Sir, they¡¯re attacking from the high ground. They¡¯ve appeared out of nowhere, and we¡¯re in a defensive position.¡±

    ¡°Damn,¡± Zion cursed. ¡°A surprise attack? They¡¯re trying to catch us off guard. We need to hold the line until we can regroup. No panic.¡±

    Days passed, and just as General Sima¡¯s efforts to break through faltered, a report came in. ¡°The true horde¡¯s tank division is nearing General Sima¡¯s base, and our air strikes are doing little damage.¡±

    Zion¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°We need to act quickly. If they surround him, we risk losing everything.¡±

    The days that followed were a tense waiting game. Reports trickled in from Sima''s position at the ancient prison mine, the Gulag. Each update was worse than the last. The True Horde was pressing hard, and Sima''s men were running low on ammunition.

    Then, Sima''s strained face appeared on the main screen in the war room. "We''re under heavy attack from the north," he reported, his voice tight. "We''re dug in, but I don''t know how long we can hold."

    "We''re sending reinforcements, General," Zion assured him, though the words felt hollow. "Hold on."

    "One more thing," Sima added, his eyes flickering towards something off-screen. "We found an old map of a pre-war bunker¡­ it looks like Alam might be hiding troops there."

    Zion''s eyes widened. "A bunker? Get that map to intelligence immediately."

    ¡°Of course,¡± Sima said, but just then, a gunshot rang out from the speaker. ¡°Damn! They¡¯ve found me!¡±

    Concern gripped Zion. ¡°General Sima, what was that? Did they find you? Your position is compromised?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid so. I won¡¯t let them capture me! Glory for the Red Nation!¡± Sima declared, and then the line went dead.

    Gasps filled the command center as officers processed the shocking news. ¡°Oh no, General Sima has shot himself.¡±

    A flicker of darkness passed across Zion''s eyes, quickly masked. He straightened his posture, the movement almost rigid. Zion¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the map, his expression unchanging. ¡°His sacrifice is commendable. We must honor his memory and carry on his legacy. Let¡¯s focus on protecting the Red Nation and fulfilling his last wishes.¡±

    A tense silence followed, broken only by the red officer¡¯s grim report: ¡°The base was overrun.¡±

    Zion¡¯s jaw clenched as he stared at the map. ¡°Confirmed. General Sima and his troops have been captured or killed. The true horde has secured the base. This is a significant loss.¡±

    After a long pause, a red general spoke up. ¡°Let¡¯s fire the Strato Cannon at Banyan -?lgii. We can wipe out their attacking forces.¡±

    Zion nodded quickly. ¡°Yes! A strike on Banyan -?lgii will inflict serious damage and disrupt their operations. Let¡¯s prepare the Strato Cannon for immediate deployment.¡±

    Moments later, the base of Banyan -?lgii was buried under the cannon¡¯s blast.

    ¡°Good kill! We¡¯ve destroyed their tank division!¡± a red officer shouted, relief evident in his voice.

    The corners of Zion''s lips barely twitched upward. He took a slow, deliberate breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. ¡°Indeed! The Strato Cannon strike was effective. This will significantly disrupt their supply lines and operations. Let¡¯s keep pushing them back to prevent the formation of another base.¡±

    ¡°Sir, we¡¯ve received another call from Alam,¡± a red general reported.

    ¡°What does that kid want now? Let¡¯s ignore him,¡± Zion replied, shaking his head.

    But he reconsidered. ¡°Actually, let¡¯s hear what he has to say. He might offer an opportunity to end this war.¡±

    Alam¡¯s face appeared on the monitor, a smug grin plastered across his features. ¡°We¡¯ve spilled so much blood, haven¡¯t we? How about a truce?¡±

    Zion regarded him with interest. ¡°A truce is appealing, Alam. What terms do you propose for ending this conflict?¡±

    ¡°Take Altai and the Black Sea, but I¡¯ll keep my territory in China and Carpathia. Central Asia will be neutral under my government,¡± Alam stated confidently.

    Zion hesitated, weighing the implications. ¡°Your terms are reasonable. We can accept the truce under those conditions. But how do I know you won¡¯t betray me again?¡±

    ¡°Good point,¡± Alam replied. ¡°How can I trust you?¡±

    Zion nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll create a monitoring agreement to ensure both sides uphold the truce. Inspection teams can verify compliance.¡±

    ¡°Hmm... do you really trust your inner circle after leading a failed invasion against a mere rebel like me?¡± Alam taunted.

    Zion¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°No, I¡¯ve realized my inner circle may not be as trustworthy as I thought. I must maintain tight control and increase surveillance over their activities.¡±

    ¡°Feeling lonely?¡± Alam pressed.

    Zion hesitated. ¡°Yes, I do feel lonely. I have no one I can truly trust. It¡¯s a cold, isolating existence.¡±

    ¡°Cute. Your officers can hear you, you know,¡± Alam chuckled.

    Zion shot him a glare. ¡°I want them to hear. They need to understand that I¡¯m not an infallible leader. I¡¯m a mortal man, vulnerable to betrayal.¡±

    Alam smirked. ¡°What a revelation. I smell betrayal... Have a good New Year, Red Hair!¡±

    Zion¡¯s anger flared again. ¡°You¡¯ve identified the scent of betrayal in my circle. I will keep a closer watch on those around me.¡±

    With that, the call ended abruptly.

    Zion sighed deeply, turning to his officers. ¡°It seems I must keep a closer eye on my inner circle. Their loyalty is in question. Let¡¯s take the necessary steps to safeguard my power as the leader of the Red Nation.¡±

    A red general spoke up, ¡°We¡¯ve been loyal to you since you took the throne, sir. Like General Sima, we will fight to the death!¡±

    Zion smiled, bolstered by their commitment. ¡°Thank you, General. I trust in your dedication. Together, we will defeat the True Horde and restore peace and prosperity to our nation.¡±

 Chapter 63 A Moment Before the Storm

    meanwhile in xian palace. ¡°nyoohhh!¡± alam slam the fancy table. ¡°they just blow up the whole fucking mountains to destroy my perfect maze..and my new tank brigade, we doomed¡±

    but later on Alam received the news that the new tanks and Sima Yilin had been captured, and a wave of mixed emotion washed over him.

    ¡°well.. i think its a good trade¡± he sigh, then alam had sense its was good time messing zion. then he contacting zion same like previous chapter.

    So The advanced tanks posed a serious threat, especially since he still lacked effective weapons and tactics to counter the formidable Buffalo tanks. Meanwhile, the Red Nation was already rolling out their own new tanks. Alam quickly ordered the captured tanks to be researched, hoping for some reverse engineering magic to give them an edge.

    As the chaos of winter warfare escalated, the Yellow Nation sent their own tanks to support Alam. While their European tanks weren''t as advanced as the Buffalo tanks, they still offered a glimmer of hope, especially since the Yellow Nation hadn¡¯t fully committed yet.

    Back in the hidden lit subterranean city filled by dolls, Alam¡¯s expression shifted from determination to concern.

    ¡°Hey, how¡¯s the progress?¡± he asked, stepping into the room.

    Croque was hard at work, surrounded by a mountain of blueprints and diagrams. She looked up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re back! I¡¯m almost finished with the mud launcher prototype design. It¡¯s coming along nicely!¡±

    ¡°Really? Can it be produced yet?¡± Alam inquired, leaning in with interest.

    ¡°Yes! I can start manufacturing the prototype, but we need to test it first to ensure it works as expected. There are still some details to iron out, like the mud delivery system and how to activate the mixture. It¡¯ll take some time, but I¡¯m confident we can produce a working prototype soon,¡± Croque explained.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s try the prototype first,¡± Alam decided, eager to see it in action.

    ¡°Sure! This should be interesting,¡± Croque replied, a hint of nervousness in her voice. ¡°I¡¯ve been so focused on the design that I didn¡¯t think about testing it before. Today will be the first field test.¡±

    ¡°Let me be your guest,¡± Alam said, grinning.

    Croque nodded, her excitement bubbling. ¡°Let¡¯s do it! I can¡¯t wait to see how it performs.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell me the specifications?¡± Alam asked, eyeing the prototype on her desk.

    Croque explained, ¡°The mud launcher is modeled after an RPG. It delivers a mud mixture propelled by a pressure release mechanism. The mixture is designed to clog tank barrels, effectively jamming them. It has an estimated range of about 100 meters.¡±

    ¡°Seems beautiful! It¡¯s actually pretty light¡ªaround 10 to 15 kg,¡± Alam said, resting the launcher on his shoulder.

    Croque watched, pleased with the design. ¡°Yes, it should be a formidable weapon against enemy tanks.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s see how accurate it is,¡± Alam said, pointing the weapon at an empty hall.

    ¡°Agreed! This is the first time we¡¯ll actually fire it,¡± Croque said, her anticipation palpable.

    ¡°Fire in the hole!¡± Alam pulled the trigger.

    The launcher fired a projectile that exploded on impact, filling the hall with a thick cloud of mud. The result was impressive; the mud spread quickly, clogging the area. After a few seconds, it hardened, blocking the hall completely.

    ¡°Wow, what¡¯s this black stuff?¡± Alam asked, moving toward the impact area.

    The solidified mud was dark and sticky, resembling thick sludge. Croque looked puzzled. ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be there. The mixture was just soil and chemicals.¡±

    ¡°Is it toxic? Should I wear a mask?¡± Alam asked, concern creeping into his voice.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Croque¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°It was supposed to be harmless! I¡¯m not sure what this is¡­¡±

    ¡°Do I need to worry about your mute? Do you need batteries or something?¡± Alam joked, trying to lighten the mood.

    Croque chuckled, shaking her head. ¡°I¡¯m not a robot! I¡¯m just a bit puzzled by this unexpected outcome. We should continue testing to see what else this prototype might do.¡±

    ¡°Too bad I don¡¯t know the aftereffects of this stuff. But I think we can start producing the launcher. Let¡¯s aim for 100 units with 2,000 rounds to start,¡± Alam concluded.

    ¡°Sounds good!¡± Croque agreed, her enthusiasm returning.

    Meanwhile at surface, Nalin relished her day off from training, taking a well-deserved break to unwind. She checked her personal communication device and noticed a message from Alam. A flicker of curiosity sparked within her, quickly transforming into excitement as she read his words.

    ¡°Hello, dear Alam! It¡¯s been too long since we last spoke. I¡¯m excited and curious to catch up! What do you want to talk about this time?¡±

    Moments later, Alam replied, inquiring about her training.

    Nalin¡¯s smile widened as she typed back, ¡°My training is going really well! I¡¯m getting more comfortable with the environment and terrain. My time spent hunting in the taiga has really helped me. I feel more confident in my skills to assist on any mission you need me for!¡±

    Alam¡¯s next message flickered onto her screen, and she sensed a shift in tone. ¡°I see... but I want you to¡­ not participate. Heh.¡±

    A wave of worry washed over her. then she call alam, her voice is genuine confuse ¡°Wait... what? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°War is unpredictable. Something bad may happen,¡± Alam warned, his words heavy with foreboding.

    Nalin felt her heart sink. ¡°Yeah, I know. But are you saying bad things could happen in battle or here at the base?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. I just hope the war ends soon,¡± he replied.

    Relief washed over her, and she whispered softly, ¡°I¡¯m hoping for that too. It¡¯s been a long, grueling fight, and I¡¯m getting tired. The thought of peace eases the burden on my heart.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, at least in our minds, we find peace,¡± Alam said,

    Nalin couldn¡¯t help but feel a twinge of disappointment. ¡°I wish for real peace too. I¡¯m sick of the fighting and the killing. I just want it all to end so we can live without the constant threat of war.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Alam said sympathetically but he know he cant stop her. ¡°But don¡¯t be a hero in battle. Stick to the middle, and if the enemy is too many, just run.¡± he pause for a long moment and type ¡°It¡¯s okay to surrender¡±

    Nalin¡¯s disappointment was palpable. ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is if we¡¯re outnumbered, it¡¯s better to surrender than to fight to the death? its. sound not patriotic¡±

    alam sigh ¡°Ultimately, it¡¯s up to you. But the idea of living a little longer isn¡¯t bad, you know?¡±

    She pondered his words, her mind racing. ¡°I see... I want to live longer too. I never considered surrender until now, but maybe it¡¯s the best option if it means survival.¡±

    ¡°Yes, this winter war is cruel, but it teaches us to appreciate life more,¡± Alam offered.

    Nalin¡¯s heart sank again. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s really cruel. Each battle is filled with blood and death. But at the end of the day, all this suffering is supposed to lead to peace

    ¡°Yeah...¡± Alam replied softly.

    As silence fell between them,

    ¡°Now that I think about it, this war isn¡¯t just about death and cruelty. It¡¯s forced us to appreciate every moment,¡± Nalin said thoughtfully.

    ¡°Funny how that works,¡± Alam chuckled, the tension easing.

    Nalin giggled in response. ¡°Yes! It¡¯s not just a bloody war; it¡¯s a lesson in cherishing life. Who would¡¯ve thought?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll miss you,¡± Alam said, the sudden seriousness in his voice catching Nalin off guard.

    She fell silent, tears welling in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll miss you too.¡±

    ¡°Yes... Train hard and fight smart. You¡¯ll be fine,¡± he reassured her.

    As his words sank in, Nalin sniffled quietly. The thought of losing Alam felt like a heavy weight in her chest. ¡°I promise I¡¯ll work hard and fight smart. After that, we¡¯ll part ways, and this might be my last goodbye.¡±

    ¡°Why do you talk like one of us will die?¡± Alam teased lightly,

    ¡°Please don¡¯t say that! What if it¡¯s you who ends up dying instead? What if I¡¯m the only one who survives?¡± Nalin whispered, anxiety creeping into her voice.

    ¡°Only Gott knows what¡¯s next. All we can do now is pray,¡± Alam said, his tone softening.

    Nalin nodded slowly, a sense of solemnity settling between them. ¡°Yes, praying seems to be all we can do right now. Regardless of what happens, I¡¯m glad the war is slowly coming to an end. At least it won¡¯t be as dangerous as before.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, take care,¡± Alam said softly. He paused, then added, trying to lighten the mood, "Hey, have you tried that new ration bar? The one with the¡­ dehydrated apples? It''s not half bad." then to ease her feeling. alam shift conversation into more mundane one. talking about her dialy life and stuff

    As the war raged on, things were getting messy. Manchuria and Central Asia were turning into a real bloodbath. The Red Nation''s giant Strato Cannon was smashing True Horde tanks left and right, but the True Horde wasn''t just taking it. They were hitting back hard, messing up the Red Army''s plans and causing serious trouble. It was a real back-and-forth slugfest.

    While everyone was focused on the fighting in Central Asia, the Jozen pirates were getting bolder. Remember that tsunami the Strato Cannon caused in the Pacific? Yeah, that wrecked one of their underwater cities. So, they decided to return the favor by raiding Zion''s ports and coastal towns. Villages were getting hit hard ¨C people either killed on the spot or dragged off as slaves. Down in Mexico, Zion''s ground forces had taken over the whole region and were pushing south, trying to link up with their allies, the Crimson Eagle, in the Amazon. Speaking of the Amazon, La Buse and his submarine were cruising around, causing chaos and attacking any settlements they came across.

    And over in what used to be Britain, things were even weirder. With the sea levels rising, Britain was now just a bunch of islands. The Yellow Nation was using those islands as a giant shield, trying to stop Zion''s mercenaries from landing. Their coastal guns were firing non-stop, trying to take down the swarms of launch pods Zion was using to ferry his troops and his vassal nations. It was a total free-for-all.

    "Fang," Alam said, leaning back in his chair, "there''s this big world conference at the end of the year. I''m not going. You go in my place. Tell everyone what''s happening here, remind them the Red Nation isn''t unstoppable."

    "Sure thing," Fang replied, nodding. "The world needs to know the True Horde isn''t backing down. But why aren''t you going yourself?"

    Alam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just¡­ I really don''t want to be in the same room with Zion right now."

    Fang gave him a knowing look. "I get it. He''s¡­ intense. But this isn''t just about avoiding him. This summit is about all the important stuff happening globally. Skipping it could cost us a seat at the table."

    "Yeah, you''re right," Alam admitted, rubbing his chin. "We''ve got the Golden Caravan and the Shangri-La Confederation on our side. They see us as a buffer against the Red Nation, so they¡¯ll probably back us up. But I''m not holding my breath for help from anyone too far away."

    "I understand that," Fang said. "Relying on distant allies is always risky, especially with things this crazy. But going to the conference is a chance to show the world we''re united. It could help us build stronger alliances and prove the True Horde is a force to be reckoned with."

    Alam chuckled, a genuine smile finally appearing on his face. "Alright, I trust you, Fang. You always know what to do."

    "Thanks sir. I¡¯ll do everything I can to represent the True Horde and get our message across. We need to rally support if we want to win this," Fang replied, his voice firm.

    Alam nodded slowly, his gaze drifting towards a map of the world. The lines of conflict crisscrossed the continents, a stark reminder of the widespread chaos. He looked back at Fang, a flicker of something darker in his eyes. "Well then¡­ may Gott bless us," he said, his voice low. "Because it feels like we''re all standing on the edge of a cliff."

 Chapter 64 NEW WORLD COUNCIL

    A tense silence hung in the conference hall, broken only by the occasional rustle of papers. World leaders were huddled around a round table, their faces lit up by the flickering holograms of their flags.

    It was late December 2404, and things were getting serious. The war between the True Horde, led by the imposing Alam, and the Red Nation, under the steely-eyed Zion, was heating up. Everyone had the Red Nation''s Strato Cannon on their minds¡ªa weapon that could rain chaos from the sky. Meanwhile, the Golden Caravan had thrown in with the True Horde, while the Emerald League, in a classic twist of hypocrisy, was playing both sides, sending arms and send mercenary to the Red Nation while pretending to stay neutral.

    First up was the Holy See, who looked a lot like an AI and represented the White Nation of Madagascar. A group of guys plopped a disk on the seat, and suddenly, a holographic dude in a white tuxedo flickered to life.

    The Holy See, a flickering holographic projection that resembled a tired AI, cleared his throat. "Fellow leaders," his speaker  voice echoed through the hall, "we are at a precipice."

    One by one, the leaders of the New World Council rolled in. its was take place in border of emerald and shangri-laa (green-purple nation), take place in academy of unity. its was use to serve a both elite academy of all of world and a UN like grand office. a symbol of rebuild in the fractured world

    Next came an old monk type with glasses, decked out in purple¡ªPramansha, the leader of the Purple Nation. Then, A striking woman in a military-style uniform, a pink cloak draped over her shoulders, entered with a crisp salute to no one in particular. That was Shakanya, the leader of the Pink Nation.

    After her, a young guy swaggered in wearing a leather outfit with some fur and gold bling. He was Mullen, the leader of the Yellow Nation. Jozen followed, rocking a dark blue Japanese outfit, and right behind him was Zion, sharp in a sleek grey tux with a bold red tie.

    Then there was Kaveh, an ordinary-looking dude in a grey tux with medium black hair and a green pendant. He represented the Green Nation. Finally, the last to arrive was a woman with all the Asian features, sparkling in a silver dress. But wait¡ªthere was still one empty seat left for the Orange Nation, who hadn¡¯t shown up.

    The Holy See¡¯s holographic image flickered like a faulty lightbulb as he addressed the room. "Fellow leaders," he began, his voice steady but with a hint of nervousness, "we''re at a serious crossroads. Things are tense, but there''s still a chance for things to get better. Let''s try to work together, not as enemies, but as¡­ well, as people trying to figure this out."

    Zion¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly as Jozen shifted in his seat, but he kept his smile in place. ¡°Yes,¡± he agreed, his voice smooth and controlled. ¡°We are at a crossroads. The situation is¡­ delicate. But perhaps we can find a way forward without more fighting. The Holy See¡¯s suggestion of reconciliation is¡­ appreciated.¡±

    The Holy See took a deep breath, like he was psyching himself up for something. Jozen, who clearly enjoyed stirring the pot, barely managed to stifle a giggle. "They say a crisis is a good opportunity for change," he said, trying to sound serious but failing miserably. "Maybe today we can actually make some changes. You know, set aside the whole ''wanting to conquer each other'' thing and try for some peace and understanding."

    Zion''s smile tightened a fraction. ¡°Indeed,¡± he said, a little too enthusiastically. ¡°We must rise to this challenge. We must focus on cooperation and¡­ creating a better world. Right?¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± the Holy See agreed, unfazed. ¡°With everyone working together, we can build a future without conflict.¡±

    ¡°Or,¡± Jozen added, a sly grin spreading across his face, ¡°we could just pretend we all love each other. That would be fun.¡±

    Mullen rolled his eyes. Hejaz looked bored, staring off into space. Shakanya managed to keep a straight face, though a tiny smirk played on her lips. Pramansha crossed her arms, looking amused. Fang¡¯s gaze was fixed on Zion, watching him carefully. Kaveh wore a businesslike smile, like he was about to close a deal.

    Zion, feeling all those eyes on him, tried to keep his composure. He felt like he was in a zoo, not a diplomatic meeting. ¡°I believe this conference is a chance to rebuild trust,¡± he said, trying for a sincere tone. ¡°We need to be open-minded and respect each other¡¯s¡­ viewpoints.¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± the Holy See declared, raising a hand as if trying to conduct an orchestra of world leaders. ¡°Let¡¯s commit to solving problems through talking, not fighting. Let¡¯s embrace change and¡­ growth.¡±

    Zion nodded, feeling the weight of the room¡¯s attention. ¡°First on the agenda,¡± the Holy See announced, ¡°is the revival of the Crescent Alliance. It was a defensive pact, a trade thing¡­ it fell apart a century ago. The idea is to balance out the Red Nation¡¯s growing power. Some people think you¡¯re getting a little¡­ ambitious.¡±

    Zion¡¯s hand twitched towards his sword hilt, a nervous habit. ¡°As the representative of the Red Nation,¡± he began, ¡°I have to say, the Crescent Alliance started with good intentions. But it ended up being used by certain countries for their own benefit. It wasn¡¯t exactly¡­ neutral.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a fair point, Zion,¡± the Holy See said, nodding. ¡°It became more about control than cooperation. That¡¯s why it was dissolved. We don¡¯t want to repeat the same mistakes. We need a better solution.¡±

    Jozen snickered, and Pramansha covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. Hejaz was still staring into space. Shakanya frowned slightly. Kaveh and Mullen exchanged quick, uneasy glances.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Indeed, the dissolution of the Crescent Alliance was crucial,¡± Zion reiterated, feeling the pressure build as laughter rippled through the room. ¡°We must avoid falling back into those old patterns and focus on creating a more inclusive partnership based on mutual respect.¡±

    The Holy See interjected, ¡°Now, let¡¯s address the issue of the Red Nation''s military buildup, which has raised concerns among many.¡± The room fell silent, the laughter dissipating as the gravity of the topic reasserted itself.

    Zion kept his expression neutral. "Look," he said, trying to sound reasonable, "we''ve invested in our military. I get that it¡¯s raising eyebrows. We¡¯ve done some war games, bumped up spending¡ªI see how it looks."

    The Holy See¡¯s expression tightened. ¡°It''s not just the spending, Zion. It''s the¡­ activities. It''s making everyone nervous. It doesn''t exactly scream ''open to peaceful talks.''"

    Zion nodded, watching the reactions around the table. Hejaz, completely unfazed, piped up. ¡°So, are we just gonna sit here and let the Red Nation do whatever they want?¡±

    The Holy See blinked, taken aback by the bluntness. "We''re here to¡­ discuss those tensions," he stammered, trying to regain control.

    A ripple of laughter went through the room. Zion¡¯s jaw tightened. He shot a look at Jozen, who was grinning like a kid who just pulled a prank. "Right," Zion said, forcing a smile. "Because we all know who the supposed bad guy is."

    Pramansha and Shakanya couldn''t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. The Holy See slammed his hand on the table. ¡°Focus!¡± he snapped, his voice sharp.

    Zion took a deep breath. This was turning into a circus. "Holy See," he said, raising a hand. "This meeting is important. We need to talk about these issues, find solutions. We need to actually, you know, talk."

    The room was thick with tension. Zion''s heart was pounding, but he kept his face calm. This meeting could change everything. He scanned the faces around the table¡ªdiplomacy, suspicion, boredom.

    "Thank you, Holy See," he continued, his voice steady. "This is a crucial opportunity to discuss our concerns and find common ground. We need to understand each other better." He lowered his hand, trying to project an air of calm.

    Across the table, Jozen was struggling to suppress a laugh, clearly amused by the seriousness of it all. The Holy See shot him a sharp look, one that seemed to say, ¡°Enough with the giggling, or else.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± Jozen replied, feigning innocence. ¡°How about we let the True Horde representative talk instead? Let¡¯s hear what they really do each year in here.¡±

    Zion¡¯s eyes flicked to Hejaz, glued to his phone, then to Kaveh and Mullen, locked in a silent, icy standoff. This was new¡ªa non-NWC member addressing them. Despite their low expectations, a ripple of curiosity ran through the room. Fang took a steadying breath.

    ¡°Holy See,¡± she began, her voice clear and firm, cutting through the tension. ¡°I speak for Alam, leader of the True Horde. We support the revival of the Crescent Alliance. The Red Nation¡¯s aggression must be stopped.¡±

    A hush fell over the hall. This wasn''t the hesitant plea they''d expected.

    ¡°We are not here to beg for your sympathy,¡± Fang continued, her voice gaining strength. ¡°We are here to tell you what is happening. The Red Nation has invaded our lands, threatened our very existence. We have fought to defend our homes, our families, our way of life. We seek only peace and stability, but Zion has given us only war.¡±

    She paused, letting her words sink in. The Holy See leaned forward, his interest piqued.

    ¡°There is still a chance to prevent a wider catastrophe,¡± Fang asserted, her gaze sweeping across the room, meeting the eyes of each leader. ¡°But it requires action. It requires unity. The Red Nation¡¯s ambition threatens us all. The Crescent Alliance is not just a regional pact; it is a shield against tyranny. We must rebuild it, stronger than before, now.¡±

    Zion watched, a knot forming in his stomach. Fang¡¯s words were resonating. He could feel the weight of Mullen and Kaveh¡¯s stares, burning into him.

    The Holy See turned to Fang, his expression serious. ¡°What of the Red Nation¡¯s future? What is their ultimate goal?¡±

    Fang didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°The Red Nation is ruled by a tyrant. He disregards the lives of his own people, let alone those beyond his borders. The revived Crescent Alliance is the only way to check his power, to ensure a future where peace is possible.¡±

    The Holy See nodded slowly, absorbing her words. The room was still tense, but the atmosphere had shifted. Fang¡¯s directness and conviction had made an impact.

    ¡°This is not about the True Horde,¡± Fang concluded, her voice softening slightly but retaining its firmness. ¡°This is about all of us. This is about preventing another devastating war. We must act now, before it''s too late.¡±

    Just as the air began to clear, Jozen piped up again. ¡°Bravo! By the way, I know my nation is on the other side of the world, but did you hear about the Red Nation¡¯s military test earlier this month? They fired a giant cannon into the Pacific, and now a lot of fish are floating belly-up.¡±

    The Holy See¡¯s attention snapped to Zion, clearly expecting a response. Zion took a deep breath, his smile sharp. ¡°When I first heard about the missile test, I feared the worst¡ªa nuclear warhead or something catastrophic. Thankfully, it only affected wildlife, and there was no significant damage to human life. I hope this doesn¡¯t signal a shift in military strategy.¡±

    The tension in the room eased slightly as Zion¡¯s comments reassured some of the leaders. The Holy See then turned to Mullen, while still keeping an eye on Kaveh, who remained fixated on Mullen.

    ¡°Alright, do we go to war or what?¡± Hejaz asked bluntly, breaking the momentary calm.

    Mullen, unable to contain his irritation, suddenly snapped. ¡°Why do you care? You¡¯re just a religious nut who cares about nothing but your faith!¡± His voice boomed, shocking everyone into silence, including Hejaz, whose expression morphed from surprise to fury.

    The atmosphere thickened with tension as Mullen¡¯s anger simmered, while Hejaz¡¯s jaw clenched, fingers tightening around his phone. Jozen cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°At least some of us are starting to talk. How about the Sisterhood of the South and the Shangri-La Confederation weigh in?¡±

    Flustered by the sudden attention, Shakanya raised her hand tentatively. ¡°My words may seem foolish, but I believe there¡¯s a better way to settle our differences than through all-out war. The world has suffered greatly from the destruction of past conflicts, and we shouldn¡¯t repeat those mistakes. Let¡¯s seek peaceful dialogue.¡±

    The Holy See nodded in approval, and several leaders echoed their agreement.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a good point,¡± Jozen said, energizing the room again. ¡°How about the Shangri-La Confederation and the Emerald League? We won¡¯t leave until everyone has had their say.¡±

    Pramanshasha quickly raised her hand, eager to contribute. ¡°The Shangri-La Confederation supports the revival of the Crescent Alliance and advocates for a peaceful resolution to the Red Nation''s aggressive expansionism.¡±

    The Holy See beamed at her response, sensing a shift in the room¡¯s energy.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s wrap it up,¡± Jozen announced, glancing at the clock. ¡°Treaties and other matters will be conducted with each representative.¡±

    As the meeting wore on, the Holy See grew weary of the charged atmosphere. His gaze flickered back to Hejaz, who looked ready to explode at Mullen¡¯s provocation, while Shakanya attempted to calm him down. The tension between the two men was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

    Fang interjected, ¡°I agree. Let¡¯s conclude this meeting and discuss the treaty details. May the outcome lead to a brighter future for all of us.¡±

    The meeting devolved into tedious speeches, filled with concerns, aspirations, and historical recounts that lulled some of the attendees into near slumber. But beneath the surface of diplomatic niceties, everyone knew the truth: the storm was coming. The fragile peace was about to shatter. As the leaders filed out, their faces grim, the seeds of future conflict had been sown. The world was holding its breath.

 Chapter 65 The Feast

    After the tense conference, all world leader start leaving the academy of unity. kassandra and zion flanked by amazon pretorian guard walk on the long hall to their transpot ship

    ¡°It¡¯s bad for us,¡± Kassandra pressed, her eyes narrowing. ¡°The Crescent Alliance will definitely support the True Horde.¡±

    Zion nodded slowly, his composure unwavering. ¡°That is a valid point. The Crescent Alliance has historically supported the True Horde, especially as their aggression seems to be on the rise.¡±

    Kassandra continued, her voice tinged with urgency, ¡°I don¡¯t doubt your capabilities, but why are you letting this happen?¡±

    Zion remained calm, though his body language betrayed a flicker of frustration. ¡°The Crescent Alliance is a powerful faction, committed to peace and cooperation. It would be unwise to provoke them unnecessarily. As for my personal agenda¡­¡±

    ¡°Are you aware of Alam¡¯s rising power within the True Horde?¡± Kassandra pressed.

    Zion¡¯s eyes narrowed, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. ¡°We¡¯re all aware of the True Horde''s growing influence. They are significant players on the global stage, with a strong military and ample resources. However, they¡¯ve maintained a careful neutrality in global affairs.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that,¡± Kassandra shot back, crossing her arms. ¡°Are you planning to destroy them or what?¡±

    Zion¡¯s tone turned icy, his voice dropping. ¡°There has been talk about how best to deal with the True Horde. Some advocate a cautious approach, while others favor a more aggressive stance. They are a serious threat, and we must act carefully. I¡¯m fully aware of the danger they pose.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Kassandra said, her resolve firm. ¡°I¡¯ll ramp up our war factory production to the limit. Our new army will start crossing the Bering Strait in January, and we¡¯ll begin annexing Blood Khaganate territory as planned.¡±

    Zion nodded in approval, pleased to have Kassandra¡¯s strategic mind on his side. As they walked out of the building, a young man with striking white hair and red eyes intercepted them

    ¡°You may not know me,¡± he said, introducing himself with a hint of defiance. ¡°I¡¯m Nigel, Kaveh¡¯s son from the Emerald League.¡±

    Zion halted, turning his sharp gaze on the young man. ¡°Ah, Nigel. What can I do for you?¡±

    ¡°One of your bodyguards is a friend of mine,¡± Nigel said, pointing to a female guard at Zion''s side. ¡°What have you done to her?¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯re referring to. Do you mean the female guard who protects me?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Nigel replied, his voice steady.

    Zion raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. ¡°What exactly do you want to know about her?¡±

    ¡°Give her back,¡± Nigel demanded, his tone flat but filled with intensity.

    Zion¡¯s eyes narrowed, a spark of annoyance igniting within him. ¡°Why should I do that?¡±

    ¡°Because she¡¯s not supposed to be here with you. She¡­ she¡­¡± Nigel faltered, his resolve wavering.

    Just then, Kaveh rushed in. ¡°What are you doing, boy?¡± His gaze shifted to Zion, apologetic. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for my son¡¯s behavior. He¡¯s a bit¡­ peculiar.¡±

    Zion nodded, accepting the apology without words, assessing the situation. He returned his attention to Nigel. ¡°You mentioned one of my bodyguards is a friend of yours. What¡¯s her name?¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°Nara,¡± Nigel replied, his eyes sharp.

    Recognition flickered across Zion¡¯s face. ¡°Ah, Nara. She did mention you briefly. But if I may ask, what is your relationship with her?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s my friend,¡± Nigel insisted, defensive yet vulnerable.

    Kassandra interjected, ¡°Oh, Nara? The rising star of the Colosseum? It¡¯s only natural that everyone wants to claim friendship with her.¡±

    Zion remained silent, weighing Kassandra''s words against the tension radiating from Nigel. He couldn''t shake the suspicion that this encounter might be more than a simple inquiry about a friend.

    Kaveh, breaking free from his own escort, rushed to Nigel and grabbed his arm. ¡°Let¡¯s go, boy,¡± he said, pulling him away. He glanced back at Zion, a quick, apologetic bow his only farewell. Zion gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod in return.

    The tension lingered, a stark contrast to the celebratory mood brewing elsewhere. "Time for some good old-fashioned propaganda," Kassandra said, her voice cutting through the lingering silence. "Another Colosseum event should do the trick. Get the public fired up."

    Zion nodded, his mind already calculating the logistics. The Colosseum had always been a reliable tool. He hoped it would serve its purpose once again.

    Meanwhile, the mood was drastically different at Xian¡¯s base. Alam practically bounced towards Fang, a huge grin plastered on his face. ¡°Dude, your speech? Amazing! Nailed it!¡±

    Fang chuckled, pleased. ¡°Glad you think so. I was a bit nervous, but it seemed to go down well. The whole peace and stability thing seemed to resonate."

    ¡°Resonate? It was a mic drop!¡± Alam declared, his eyes sparkling. ¡°We need to celebrate! War and all, a good feast is always a win.¡±

    Fang laughed. ¡°Couldn¡¯t agree more. I¡¯ve heard Xian¡¯s base has some top-notch chefs. Let''s go see if the rumors are true.¡±

    They headed off, the sounds of laughter and music already drifting from the direction of the palace. The feast at Xian Palace was a grand spectacle¡­

    Alam rose, his cup held high, commanding attention. ¡°Gentlemen, and brave women still with us today,¡± he began, his voice steady yet filled with emotion. ¡°We celebrate our recognition on the world stage. But let us not forget, this was not an easy path. We lost many comrades along the way. Today, we pray for the fallen, hoping they find a better place. We fight for their dreams, for a future they believed in.¡±

    As he spoke, the crowd raised their cups, honoring the heroes who paved the way for their success. A moment of silence enveloped the gathering, somber yet resolute. Everyone understood that the fight was far from over, and they were determined that the sacrifices would not be in vain. It was a silent promise of victory and a brighter future for all.

    ¡°Of course, we battered quite a bit of the Red Army,¡± Alam continued with a light-hearted chuckle, breaking the somber mood. ¡°We destroyed their beasts! Now, eat and rest, my friends.¡± He took his seat, lifting his drink to his lips.

    Fang settled across from Alam at the long table, a glint of determination in his eyes. ¡°Thank you, my friend. You¡¯re right; we¡¯ve indeed taken down many of the Red Army¡¯s monsters. But we know they will rebuild. We must prepare and keep up our momentum until we secure a final victory.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Alam replied, his grin returning. ¡°Just like the Spartans at Thermopylae, it¡¯s not just about winning; it¡¯s about spreading our message.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Fang agreed, nodding. ¡°The world has seen the True Horde¡¯s might, and it recognizes Alam as a leader. The Red Nation is a threat to peace and stability. Our message is clear: the Crescent Alliance is the only way forward, and we won¡¯t back down until we achieve a lasting victory. Let¡¯s ensure this triumph isn¡¯t our last.¡±

    Alam blinked, absorbing Fang¡¯s words. ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    ¡°And we must remember the sacrifices of our fallen comrades,¡± Fang pressed on, his tone somber. ¡°Their bravery has made our victories possible. We owe it to them to fight on, to ensure their deaths were not in vain.¡±

    ¡°Sure¡­¡± Alam replied, a sniff betraying his grief.

    Fang studied Alam¡¯s pained expression, understanding the weight of loss that hung over them. ¡°We¡¯ve suffered heavy losses, but we can¡¯t let sorrow consume us. We must honor our fallen and fight for justice and peace. Let¡¯s raise a glass to their memory.¡±

    ¡°Heh¡­ right. Now shut up and eat,¡± Alam quipped, a hint of humor breaking through his solemnity.

    Fang chuckled, grateful for the levity. ¡°Right then, I will shut up and eat now.¡± sHe dug into the sumptuous feast before him, savoring the moment.

    But the celebration was short-lived. The night sky suddenly lit up with a blinding flash. Alam¡¯s head snapped up. Missiles streaked across the sky, desperately trying to intercept¡­ something. But they were too slow. A second, even brighter flash illuminated the horizon, followed by a distant, earth-shaking boom. The ground trembled beneath their feet.

    Alam stared at the sky, his blood running cold. He knew what it was. The Strato Cannon. Panic erupted. Soldiers scrambled for cover. The air filled with shouts and the cries of the wounded. Then, the silence, heavy and suffocating

    A truck arrived, carrying the bodies of fallen soldiers. They were unloaded outside the hospital, awaiting burial. Alam stood apart, a solitary figure in the gathering twilight, watching as each body was carried past. The urge to flee, to escape the suffocating weight of grief, clawed at him. But he remained rooted to the spot, his gaze drawn to the ground.

    Among them¡­ Nalin.

    Alam stood frozen, the world tilting on its axis. Her laughter, her dreams¡­ all gone.

    Days later, a mass grave was dug, a stark testament to the Strato Cannon''s devastating power, Above it, a monument began to rise: three fists erupting from a mound of rubble, clutching a pen, a gun, and a plow. A symbol of the True Horde¡¯s resilience, forged by an artist once persecuted by the Xian Emperor, now called back to honor the fallen. People of all faiths gathered, their prayers mingling in the cold air.

    Alam attended the funeral, the single, devastating blast of the Strato Cannon a constant echo in his mind. He knew he was outgunned, outmatched in raw power. But as he looked at the faces of his people, their grief mirrored in his own, a steely resolve hardened within him. He would not break.

    He walked to the podium, the weight of their gaze pressing down on him. The speech, crafted by the Grand Mufti and refined by Fang, lay before him. He took a deep breath, the cold air burning his lungs. He looked out at the crowd, their faces etched with sorrow and hope.

    "One Gott," he began, his voice resonating with a newfound strength, "one Motherland, one Fatherland." He paused, the words hanging in the air.

    "They sought to erase us with a single blow." His voice grew louder, "But they were wrong. We are not defined by our losses, but by how we rise from them. We are bound by a shared history, a shared faith, a shared land. We are united¡ªmulti-ethnic, multi-confessional¡ªin our commitment to peace, tranquility, freedom, and sovereignty." He swept his gaze across the crowd.

    ¡°The world watches us, fearing another global conflict. They speak of China, America, Europa, Central Asia, whispering of a world war 4, an another apocalypse, the final one. But I tell you now: the end of days is in Gott hands, not in the hands of men or their machines.¡± He paused, his eyes burning with conviction. "Let this operation be a testament to our strength, a beacon for generations to come. We will not be broken. We will not be defeated. We will endure."

 Chapter 66 Remnant of russian federation

    With the world¡¯s eyes glued to the True Horde versus Red Nation showdown, a new conflict was brewing. Minor skirmishes between the Emerald League (the Green Nation) and the Golden Caravan were putting a serious strain on Emerald League and True Horde relations. They were both part of the NWC, but as usual, the rules were more like guidelines. Proxy wars were the name of the game, with Yellow Nation soldiers swapping out their uniforms for mercenary gear. The Green forces, already heavy on mercenaries, simply hired other mercenaries to bonk up the Yellow Nation¡¯s cosplayers. It was a mess, and it was about to get messier.

    The black market mafia based on Emerald League is charging Alam exorbitant prices to sell weapon supplies, making it difficult for him to secure the artillery he needs to counter red army tanks.

    Carmelita suggests that a pirate base at the tip of Northern Europe might offer a better deal. alam start his journey, He orders the elite Wanderer force to escort him, ensuring he has the best protection possible.

    As Alam travels from Xian to Europe, nostalgia washes over him. He passes through the Taiga, memories of his meeting with Nalin flooding back, Nalin¡¯s laugh echoing through the trees. Then, as he crosses the vast desert of Central Asia, he recalls the fierce battles he fought to reclaim his territory from the Khaganate. the wrecks of the rusty steels can be seen scattered around.

    The Ural Mountains remind him of the time he met his favorite secretary, Eleanor, back when the Wanderers were just a ragtag group of vigilante mercenaries. Each landmark brings a mix of emotions¡ªloss, pride, and a heavy burden he carries as a leader.

    Later, at the St. Petersburg harbor, Alam landed his black Hind helicopter and strolled over to a docked submarine. It wasn''t just any sub¡ªit was practically the Sea Wolf pirates'' floating palace. Apparently, its missile capabilities were their way of keeping the local factions in line.

    Alam walked towards it, the chilly north wind whipping around him, and crossed the small bridge to the submarine. A couple of pirates gave him the once-over. "Just armor and a cheap pistol," Alam told them, taking in their own interesting mix of arctic military gear and leather. These guys were armed with everything from rifles to, well, axes. They then escorted him up onto the submarine''s deck to meet Olga, a woman with black leather dress, a silver fluffy fur draped over her shoulders, and a red feather sticking out of her black hat.

    ¡°Hello there, woman¡­¡± Alam greets her.

    Olga-Varvara glances at him with a bored expression, clearly unimpressed. ¡°Who are you and what do you want?¡± she asks bluntly, one hand on her hip, taking note of his Just armor and a cheap pistol¡­ hardly impressive. But the way he carries himself¡­ there¡¯s something there. Confidence, maybe. Or just plain foolishness. We¡¯ll see.

    ¡°I¡¯m the leader of the True Horde. We¡¯re dealing with the Red Army and struggling to get artillery ammunition from the market. I¡¯m here to strike a deal,¡± Alam explains.

    Olga raises an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°The True Horde, you say? And you¡¯re struggling to obtain artillery ammunition? That¡¯s a problem. What kind of deal are you proposing?¡±

    Alam continues, ¡°Since the beginning of the war, we¡¯ve relied on the black market, but now I want to skip the broker. The Green Nation is taking too much profit already.¡±

    Olga nods, listening intently. ¡°I see... So, you want to cut out the middleman and deal directly with us instead of going through the black market. That¡¯s reasonable. Dealing with brokers can be a pain, and they often take advantage of your needs.¡±

    She taps her chin thoughtfully, he¡¯s not afraid to take risks. I like that. Brokers are parasites anyway.". ¡°So, how much artillery ammunition are you looking to get?¡±

    ¡°As much as you can bring us. We¡¯ll pay with silver,¡± Alam replies.

    Olga smiles slightly. ¡°Ah, you want a lot, and you¡¯ll be paying with silver. Very well, we can supply you with a decent amount of ammunition at a favorable price. However, I¡¯d like to ask a favor in return.¡±

    ¡°What is that?¡± Alam inquires.

    Olga grins mischievously. ¡°Oh, just a little something in exchange for all this ammunition. I have a rival I¡¯d like you to deal with¡ªsomeone who¡¯s been a nuisance and a threat to my interests. Can you help me with that?¡±

    ¡°Alright. Show me the name and location,¡± Alam agrees.

    ¡°Excellent. This person¡¯s name is... let¡¯s call him ¡®Smith.¡¯ He runs a competing arms dealership in the Red Zone and has been undercutting my prices. His base is in a secret underground bunker south of St. Petersburg. It¡¯s well-guarded, but I¡¯m sure you have your ways of handling that. His real name is James, if that helps. He has a weakness for pretty girls,¡± Olga explains.

    ¡°Smith... James... really? Those sound like clich¨¦ names,¡± Alam chuckles.

    Olga laughs softly. ¡°You¡¯re right, they are rather clich¨¦. But that makes it all the more amusing. This ¡®James¡¯ is a simple man with simple weaknesses, making him vulnerable and easy to deal with. So, are you up for the task? I have a feeling you¡¯ll enjoy taking care of this little nuisance for me.¡±

    ¡°Consider it done. I have an agent to take care of him,¡± Alam replies. He glances at the Russian flag on the submarine. ¡°Are you a remnant of Russia or something?¡±

    She chuckles, clearly amused. ¡°I am indeed. Or at least, the closest thing to Russia that still exists nowadays. I was a sailor and officer in the Baltic Fleet back when the Federation was still a thing. Things have changed a lot these past few years, but I still hold my heritage close to my heart as a reminder of a better time.¡±

    Alam chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. ¡°Hmm, so... can I get some chocolate or something?¡±

    Olga raised an eyebrow, surprised by his request but grinned playfully.Chocolate? What an odd request. But¡­ oddly charming. He¡¯s trying to disarm me. Clever." A small, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Chocolate, huh? You just had to ask! I suppose I can spare a few bars. After all, what¡¯s an alliance without a touch of sweetness, right?¡± She motioned for one of her sailors to hand him a few chocolate bars from the submarine''s mess.

    ¡°I was hoping for hot liquid chocolate,¡± Alam joked, a mischievous smile on his face.

    Olga laughed, clearly amused. ¡°Hot liquid chocolate? Sorry to disappoint, but this is a submarine, not a caf¨¦! And it¡¯s freezing cold up top. I can offer you hot coffee instead.¡±

    She glanced around the cabin, searching for a thermos.

    ¡°I expected a high-tech submarine,¡± Alam teased.

    Olga chuckled softly. ¡°Oh, we have a few tricks up our sleeves, but even the most advanced submarine can only do so much against nature¡¯s whims. Hot chocolate would spoil in this weather, but a cup of black coffee will keep your mind sharp and alert.¡±

    Finally locating a thermos, she poured a steaming cup of coffee and offered it to him.

    ¡°So, why is a woman leading a pirate crew?¡± Alam asked, taking a sip.

    Olga crossed her arms, considering his question. ¡°A woman leading a pirate ship might seem unusual, but most pirates don¡¯t care about gender. They care about who can get them more loot and glory. I¡¯ve given them no reason to think I¡¯m any less capable than a male leader, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess so. I was actually a pirate too before leading the Wanderers on carphatia,¡± Alam admitted.

    Her interest piqued, she raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh really? A pirate? That explains your earlier request for chocolate. What kind of pirate were you? A daring captain or a humble cabin boy?¡±

    ¡°A slaver,¡± Alam said, wiggling his eyebrows.

    Her eyes widened in surprise. ¡°A slaver? That¡¯s not something you hear every day. Quite the contrast with your current role.¡±

    she then look at him on his eyes, A slaver¡­ interesting. Most try to hide their past. He¡¯s¡­ surprisingly honest. Or perhaps he simply doesn¡¯t care what I think. Either way, it¡¯s refreshing. I¡¯ve seen what men are capable of when driven by greed.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve had my share of epic battles and chaos. Nothing in this world surprises me anymore,¡± Alam replied,

    Olga chuckled softly. ¡°Nothing surprises you, huh? That¡¯s quite a claim. The world is full of twists and turns that could shock even the most jaded souls.¡±

    She leaned back against the bulkhead, sipping her coffee. ¡°Still, I¡¯m intrigued by your tales. I¡¯d love to hear more about your pirate days, the battles you fought, and the treasures you stole.¡±

    Alam began to recount his past, ¡°well.. its start when i put a land altilery to modified cannon. we loot it from abandoned military complex in tip of sumatra. well.. its actually darkess day of my life.. since its not a ordinary pirates.. but a demon cultist as well.. we do. unspeakable act to our slaves¡±.

    Olga listened intently, her expression shifting to one of sympathy as he shared his story.

    ¡°Demonic cultists and slaves? That sounds grim. I can¡¯t imagine the horrors you witnessed,¡± she said thoughtfully.

    ¡°But it seems you¡¯ve moved past those days. You¡¯ve become something more than just a slaver or pirate. What led you from that dark path to lead the Horde?¡± she asked, genuinely curious.

    Alam sighed, reflecting on his journey. ¡°A classic tale of betrayal. One of my lovers betrayed me out of fear. After that tragedy, I felt enough was enough. I went to Europe and joined the Wanderers as a mercenary.¡±

    Olga¡¯s expression softened. ¡°A lover¡¯s betrayal is a bitter pill to swallow, especially from someone you trust. It¡¯s no wonder it pushed you to join the Wanderers.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alam said, his voice trailing off. ¡°I spared her, though. I just couldn¡¯t stop loving her.¡±

    Olga¡¯s gaze softened further.Spared her¡­ despite everything? There¡¯s more to him than meets the eye. A weakness, perhaps? Or¡­ something else. Something¡­ noble.A faint memory of her own lost love surfaces, a pang of familiar pain. ¡°You spared her despite the pain she caused you? Love can make us do things that defy logic.¡±

    ¡°Can I hug you?¡± Alam asked suddenly.

    Caught off guard, A hug? Well, that¡¯s unexpected. But¡­ why not? It¡¯s been a long time since¡­ well, since anything. Besides, it¡¯s a good way to gauge a man. A small, genuine smile appears. Olga smiled warmly. ¡°A hug? Sure, I suppose that¡¯s acceptable. Just don¡¯t get too clingy; I have a reputation to uphold.¡±

    ¡°I will be clingy,¡± Alam replied, pulling her into a hug.

    She laughed softly, clearly amused. ¡°Of course, who am I kidding? You¡¯re the clingy type. I should have known better.¡±

    As they embraced, Alam reflected, ¡°I¡¯ve lost much, but I¡¯ve gained much as well.¡±

    She continued to pat Alam''s back gently as he reflected on his past.

    "It''s true, isn''t it? Life has a way of taking and giving in equal measure. Sometimes we lose precious things, but in return, we gain experiences, wisdom, and strength."

    Pulling back slightly, she looked him in the eye, her expression serious.

    "But remember, Alam, it''s important to let go of the past. Don''t let it consume you or prevent you from finding happiness in the present."

    "Yeah, thanks," Alam replied, stretching his arms. "Speaking of devils... why ally with the Blue Nation? Do you think all pirates today are just Jozen''s dogs?"

    She chuckled at his question,Jozen¡­ a useful idiot. For now. The Blue Nation¡­ they serve their purpose. Alliances are temporary. It¡¯s about survival, about power.amused by the implication. "Jozen''s influence is strong, I''ll give him that. But I wouldn''t call us his ''dogs.'' We''re pirates! We take the path that benefits us the most."

    Taking a sip of her coffee, her gaze turned serious. "As for why I allied with the Blue Nation... let''s just say we have a common enemy and shared values. Plus, I like to be on the winning side."

    Alam took a sip of his drink. "Do you think the Red Nation will be defeated soon?"

    She paused, her expression contemplative. "The Red Nation is powerful, but the forces against them are relentless. They seem to be crumbling day by day. However, it''s hard to predict how long the conflict will last."

    Turning to him with a sly smile, she added, "But don''t worry! I''m sure we''ll have them running for the hills before we know it. Just sit back, relax, and watch the show."

    "It''s easy for you since you''re in a corner of the world," Alam remarked.

    She raised an eyebrow, They think we¡¯re isolated here. Weak. They¡¯re wrong. We control the sea lanes. We control the flow of goods. We have power they don¡¯t even comprehend.A smirk plays on her lips. "Oh, really? You think being in a remote corner makes it easy?"

    Leaning back in her chair, she studied him intently. "Let me tell you, being in a remote corner has its benefits and drawbacks. Sure, enemies won''t come knocking on our doorstep anytime soon, but we also lack resources and support close by."

    She raised a finger pointedly. "And don''t forget, being in a corner also makes it easier to get trapped."

    "Yeah, I can see that. Some people nearby still dig a ditch before taking a shit instead of having a proper toilet," Alam joked. "But on the other hand, a rich resource area like the East has been a battleground for decades."

    She laughed at the image. "Ah, the struggles of progress. Some people just don''t appreciate the luxury of modern amenities."

    Her expression turned serious again. "And yes, that''s true. The Eastern wasteland area is so wealthy with resources that it attracts all kinds of factions. It''s like a playground for the greedy and ambitious."

    "Hmhm... I''m tired," Alam said, rubbing her back. "Are you married or something?"

    She raised an eyebrow at his sudden question but smiled a little. "Married? No, not at the moment. Being a pirate makes it hard to keep a stable relationship."

    Leaning back in her chair, her tone slightly sarcastic, she added, "Why do you ask? Planning to propose to me, Alam?"

    "Nah, I''m still afraid of commitment," he admitted.

    She let out a light laugh,Commitment¡­ a luxury I can¡¯t afford. Not anymore. But¡­ there¡¯s something about him. A raw honesty. A vulnerability he tries to hide. It¡¯s¡­ intriguing."A thoughtful expression crosses her face. Perhaps he¡¯s not as simple as he seems. her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Afraid of commitment, huh? That''s a common fear among pirates."

    Taking a sip of her coffee, she lingered her gaze on him. "So, you prefer to keep your options open, I take it?"

    "Just... see how it goes. I accept whatever Gott gives," Alam replied.

    She nodded, her expression understanding. "Ah, I see. A ''go with the flow'' kind of mindset. I can respect that."

    With a faint smirk, she added, "Or maybe you just haven''t found the right person to commit to yet."

    "Perhaps it''s just me," Alam said.

    She smiled lightly, her voice gentle. "Perhaps. Or maybe you''re yet to discover that someone who''ll change your mind about commitment."

    Taking another sip of her coffee, she concluded, "Either way, as long as you''re happy, that''s all that matters, right?"

    Alam nodded. The deal was done. The munitions problem was solved. He pulled out his comm device. "Mei," he said, his voice low and businesslike. "Smith. James. Underground bunker south of St. Petersburg. Olga''s orders. Make it¡­ convincing." He ended the call. The weight on his shoulders eased slightly. With the munitions secured, he could focus on the bigger picture.

 Chapter 67 Trench of great wall

    City of Datong, Late December 2404

    Snow blanketed the rooftops and ancient monuments of Datong, softening the edges of the Great Wall of China that stood sentinel against the elements. Workers from the True Horde dug trenches near the wall, their breath visible in the frosty air.

    Alam stood amidst the bustling activity, glancing at the wall''s towering presence. ¡°In the past, the Chinese used this wall to fend off nomadic tribes. Now, we¡¯re using it against the Red Army,¡± he remarked, a hint of pride in his voice.

    Fang, close by, nodded thoughtfully. ¡°Indeed, the Great Wall was a formidable defense against the Mongols. Today, it will serve as a bastion against the Red Army¡¯s expansionist ambitions. It symbolizes the strength and unity of the Chinese people, and now, it embodies our determination to defend our homeland.¡±

    Alam chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not Chinese by birth,¡± he said with a wink, ¡°so maybe I¡¯m a bit of a foreigner in this narrative.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Fang acknowledged, a smile creeping onto her face. ¡°You may not be Chinese by birth, but you¡¯ve made this land your home. Your commitment to protect its people makes you a true leader in my eyes. The people can be proud to have someone like you fighting for them.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Alam replied, his tone shifting slightly. ¡°But enough about me. You¡¯ve been rather coy about your backstory, Fang.¡±

    Fang grinned, leaning back slightly as she began. ¡°Ah, my story? It starts in a small village, far from here. A quiet place where I lived with my parents and younger brother. They were farmers, toiling away so I could one day become a warrior. I guess you could say I was destined for this life.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the tale. ¡°I have a feeling the story of a woman warrior isn¡¯t that straightforward. There must be a deeper reason, something primal.¡±

    Fang hesitated, then nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. My family held traditional views; they believed women shouldn¡¯t be warriors. But I had an insatiable thirst for battle and a desire to prove myself. I trained in secret, defying my parents¡¯ wishes. When I finally became a warrior, it felt like a monumental achievement.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s quite a journey,¡± Alam said, his voice sincere. ¡°But have you made peace with your parents?¡±

    Fang sighed, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. ¡°We¡¯ve come to an understanding. They still don¡¯t approve of my career, but they support me. They know I¡¯m following my own path. In the end, that¡¯s what matters¡ªdoing what you believe is right.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Yeah, no regrets, huh?¡± Alam mused, raising his binoculars to scan the horizon. ¡°I pity this ancient wall, though. In a week or a month, it¡¯ll probably bear the scars of Red Army cannon fire.¡±

    Fang¡¯s expression turned somber. ¡°It¡¯s unfortunate that this historic wall will likely sustain damage. But it will also symbolize our commitment to defend this land to the bitter end. That¡¯s an important message to send.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Alam replied, a glint of humor in his eyes. ¡°Imagine machine gun fire echoing off a thousand-year-old wall. It would be quite a sight for a film.¡±

    ¡°It would be dramatic, for sure,¡± Fang chuckled. ¡°Picture this: the Red Army¡¯s machine gun fire blasting apart the ancient stones, marching through its ruins toward Datong. Fascinating from a historical perspective, but a military disaster. They¡¯d destroy a symbol of our resistance and advance unchecked.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but before that happens,¡± Alam declared with fierce determination, ¡°we¡¯ll make them bleed. A lot.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Fang affirmed, his tone resolute. ¡°We won¡¯t let them pass without fierce resistance. The Red Army will learn that they can¡¯t just push us around¡ªwe¡¯ll make them pay for every inch.¡±

    Alam looked around, taking in the hilly terrain. ¡°This area is perfect for hidden tunnels. We can ambush them at the wall.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Fang agreed, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. ¡°The hills could serve us well. We can set traps and wait for the Red Army to walk right into them. Catch them off guard and cause chaos in their ranks.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now we just wait for them to come,¡± Alam said, a grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°Yep, that¡¯s the plan,¡± Fang replied, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. ¡°Let¡¯s set these traps and prepare for our ambush.¡±

    Later on office, Alam summoned Sima Yijin, General Sima''s twin.

    ¡°Hey, so you¡¯re his twin, huh? Tell me about the machine inside the mine. I know the Khaganate structure is a bit... old school. What¡¯s this little rebellion within the Khaganate all about?¡± Alam asked, gesturing for him to take a seat.

    Sima Yijin sat down, his demeanor calm and composed. ¡°There¡¯s an old pre-war bunker somewhere in Siberia. My brother plans to create a powerful drill machine to access it.

    Alam nodded, remember his time when meet mad figure like ruan mei, he intrigued. ¡°But why don¡¯t you want to join the Red Nation? Besides the desire for autonomy?¡±

    Sima replied without hesitation, ¡°I understand Zion¡¯s game. He wants to make his allies dependent on the Red Nation. The Khaganate is a proud society. Before the war, we had independence in food, coal, and industry. But after opening our market to Zion¡¯s influence for technology exchange, our farmers and industries can¡¯t compete with their superior economy. It¡¯s made us slaves to our own country, and we¡¯ve accumulated a lot of debt to Zion.¡±

    Alam rubbed his chin, still trying to grasp the situation. ¡°So, it¡¯s like you¡¯ve caught an ¡®African disease¡¯?¡±

    Sima nodded. ¡°Exactly. Before colonialism, Africa was a prosperous region, a breadbasket. But after European powers arrived, they became impoverished.

    Now, we import Red Nation grain, paid for with resources we can barely afford to extract. It¡¯s a slow bleed, Alam. They take our raw materials, sell us back finished goods at inflated prices.¡±

    A memory flickered in Alam¡¯s mind: grainy images from old Earth history vids ¨C vast plantations, exploited workers, ships laden with raw materials sailing to distant shores. The word ¡°colonialism¡± echoed in his head. He understood. A familiar story, played out on a different stage

    Alam tapped his lips thoughtfully. ¡°Yeah, colonialism isn¡¯t about democracy or liberty; it¡¯s about the submission of their subjects.¡±

    As the conversation unfolded, Alam couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of Sima¡¯s words. The parallels between the Khaganate¡¯s struggles and historical injustices were striking. It was a reminder that the past often casts long shadows over the present, and the fight for autonomy was as relevant as ever.

    With a newfound determination, Alam leaned back in his chair, a grin creeping onto his face. ¡°Well, Sima, it sounds like we have a lot of work to do.. After all, who doesn¡¯t love a good underdog story?¡±

    Sima chuckled, a spark of hope in his eyes.

 Chapter 68 Happy new year

    in north of xian, City of Datong, Late December 2404

    In the heart of Datong, snow blanketed the rooftops and ancient monuments, muffling the sounds of the bustling city. The Great Wall loomed nearby, a historical sentinel now repurposed as a strategic defense against the encroaching Red Army. Inside Alam''s office, the atmosphere was tense but charged with purpose when a woman in a striking red jacket entered.

    ¡°I understand you''re facing a difficult situation,¡± she said, her voice steady and confident. ¡°The Shangri-La Confederation sent me as your eyes on the battlefield.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°Oh wow, a New Year¡¯s gift from an ally? So, who are you? A spy? A general?¡±

    ¡°Spy? No. General? No. You can call me Bora,¡± she replied with a playful smirk. ¡°I specialize in observation and analysis. I¡¯ll be one of your most trustworthy allies in this war.¡±

    Alam sniffed, skepticism etched on his face. ¡°I already have plenty of spies. What makes you different from them?¡±

    Bora leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. ¡°The biggest difference is that I can see the big picture and understand the entire situation in no time. My intelligence is in a class of its own, helping you navigate the complexities of war.¡±

    ¡°Interesting¡­ enchanted AI sensor, I guess?¡± Alam quipped, a hint of humor in his voice.

    ¡°My skills are the result of years of study and experience,¡± she corrected, her smile unwavering. ¡°So, do you believe in my abilities or not?¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± Alam said, his tone shifting to one of acceptance. ¡°I''ll trust help from a major nation like the Purple Nation. Welcome to the team. What¡¯s your name again?¡±

    ¡°Bora,¡± she said, shaking his hand firmly. ¡°I¡¯m glad to be a helpful ally for you.¡±

    ¡°Bora¡­ I¡¯m Alam,¡± he replied, a hint of camaraderie forming.

    ¡°It¡¯s an honor to meet you in person, Alam. Now, I should assess the battlefield. Call me anytime you need.¡±

    Alam took a deep breath, the weight of the situation settling on him. ¡°In December of 2404, the war front has devolved into trench warfare. Both Zion and I have lost momentum. We¡¯re stuck waiting for reinforcements in the New Year, and they have a massive cannon somewhere in Manchuria or the Bering Strait¡ªone that can strike targets over a thousand kilometers away with devastating effects.¡±

    Bora nodded, her expression serious. ¡°So, both you and your enemy are struggling with momentum, waiting for reinforcements. And you''re aware of the enemy''s cannon. It won¡¯t be long before both sides suffer heavy losses on the front lines. You need to find a way to win this war before it spirals into catastrophe.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I know my strategy now is simple: hold the line until the Crescent Alliance army arrives,¡± Alam stated, frustration creeping into his voice.

    ¡°A purely defensive strategy won¡¯t work against such a powerful enemy,¡± Bora countered. ¡°You need to prepare a decisive attack before they get the chance. The Crescent Alliance''s success hinges on their capability. If they fail, you risk losing the entire war. You must take the initiative before the situation worsens.¡±

    Alam leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. ¡°My mobile units are¡­ well, they¡¯ve been decimated on the steppe.¡±

    ¡°Since your mobile units are down, your ability to launch a decisive attack is compromised. The enemy''s cannon poses a grave threat and can inflict severe damage on your front lines. You must find a way to neutralize that cannon before it¡¯s too late. Do you have any tools or plans for that?¡±

    Alam spun in his chair, frustration evident. ¡°No¡­¡±

    ¡°Then your best bet is to find a weakness in their front line,¡± Bora advised. ¡°Identify a weak point and strike it. This could allow you to break through and disrupt their operations, minimizing the cannon¡¯s destructive potential.¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ so I guess that¡¯s your task,¡± Alam conceded.

    Bora nodded with determination. ¡°I¡¯ll scan the front lines for vulnerabilities. You can then launch a decisive attack. Just remember, I¡¯ll identify the weak spot; you¡¯ll need to devise the actual plan.¡±

    ¡°Did the Shangri-La Confederation send just one woman for now?¡± Alam asked, a wry smile crossing his face.

    Bora laughed lightly. ¡°Yes, just me. They¡¯re cautious about who they send, so they avoided any spies or traitors. They trust my analytical skills to provide you with the intelligence you need.¡±

    Alam narrowed his eyes, intrigued. ¡°You must be quite exceptional. Tell me more about yourself.¡±

    With a smile, Bora began, ¡°I was born in a village on the slopes of the Himalayan Mountains. My childhood was spent playing among the flowers, which sparked my curiosity about the world.¡±

    ¡°And then?¡± Alam prompted.

    ¡°Later, I was accepted into the Monastery of Mystic Peace, where I devoted myself to spiritual enlightenment. I studied meditation, philosophy, and religion, seeking truths hidden in the teachings of great sages.¡±

    Alam nodded slowly, absorbing her journey.

    ¡°But when the Khaganate under general Wu attacked and destroyed our monastery, my peaceful life shattered. I fled to a lowland village, witnessing the cruelty of the Khaganate firsthand¡ªthe indiscriminate killings and brutal treatment of the conquered. This experience changed my worldview: I realized peace can only be achieved through power.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°Sounds heavy,¡± Alam said, sighing.

    ¡°I also understood that power without compassion leads to tyranny,¡± Bora continued. ¡°So, I dedicated myself to finding a balance. I became a warrior to defend the weak, honing my skills in combat while studying the enemy¡¯s tactics.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, impressed. ¡°Do you have any war records? Maybe some numbers or facts to back that up?¡±

    Bora smiled. ¡°I have an impressive list of war achievements. For instance, when I was a knight, I led a small force against a superior army. I outmaneuvered them and won without losing a single knight. That¡¯s just a glimpse of my military record.¡±

    ¡°Interesting¡­ were these armored brigades or cavalry?¡± Alam asked, curious. ¡°Different nations have different terms for things.¡±

    ¡°In my time as a knight, we used both,¡± Bora explained. ¡°Armored brigades were more feasible at times, but cavalry was essential for speed and coverage. My tactics relied on outsmarting my opponents.¡±

    ¡°Cavalry against tanks?¡± Alam mused. ¡°Good luck with that.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Cavalry is key; they move quickly and cover ground efficiently,¡± Bora replied. ¡°You have cavalry fighting tanks?¡±

    Alam smirked. ¡°In hilly and forested areas, we hide them. It¡¯s a desperate raid; we blow them up at close range.¡±

    ¡°A daring tactic,¡± she said, impressed. ¡°How many cavalry do you have for a raid?¡±

    ¡°Between 30 to 100. But we lost over 4,000 in the winter war,¡± Alam admitted, his expression darkening.

    ¡°That¡¯s a significant loss,¡± Bora noted. ¡°But it was probably worth it against those tanks. You need to find ways to deal with them while minimizing cavalry losses.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Alam sighed.

    ¡°I know it¡¯s tough. You¡¯re up against one of the world¡¯s most powerful armies with limited resources,¡± Bora encouraged. ¡°But hang in there. The Crescent Alliance army is on the way.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­ so, are you like a robot?¡± Alam asked

    Bora laughed. ¡°No, I¡¯m not a robot¡ªjust a very special woman. I don¡¯t have any mechanical parts, but my intelligence is a cut above the rest. You might call me a ¡®superhuman¡¯ when it comes to observation and analysis.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ do you have some kind of ¡®hard to kill¡¯ ability?¡± Alam pressed, intrigued.

    ¡°Actually, I do. My monk training strengthened my body, and as a knight, I was required to wear heavy armor. I¡¯m tough and resilient. I can withstand stress and pressure,¡± she explained. ¡°But while my body has limitations, my mind is much tougher.¡±

    ¡°Alright¡­ do you have the bravery of steel?¡± Alam asked, his voice serious.

    Bora smiled confidently. ¡°Courage and bravery are part of my nature. I don¡¯t fear death or pain. I¡¯m willing to lay down my life for the greater good, focused solely on my mission.¡±

    ¡°Would you die for this mission?¡± Alam inquired.

    ¡°Yes, without hesitation,¡± she affirmed. ¡°I¡¯ve dedicated my life to fighting tyranny. If the mission demands it, I won¡¯t hesitate to give my life.¡±

    ¡°Would you die for me?¡± Alam raised an eyebrow, half-amused.

    Bora was caught off guard but quickly nodded. ¡°Yes, I would protect you if needed. My life is dedicated to this cause.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam said, a plan forming in his mind. ¡°I need you to be my eyes. Most of my officers are bit down, and I need to stay in Xian while my army is in Datong. I want you to become my eyes on the field.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, I can do that,¡± Bora replied. ¡°I¡¯ll observe enemy movements and relay information. But I can¡¯t cover the entire front alone. I¡¯ll do my best to provide valuable intel.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. You will take command of the defense of the Great Wall,¡± Alam said,

    Bora¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°The Great Wall? That¡¯s a crucial strategic point. I¡¯m honored you want me to command its defense.

    later, Bora stood at the edge of the Great Wall, her red jacket is stark contrast on the nearby grim atmosphere, surveying the complex layers of defensive lines and pillboxes that stretched before her. Heavy snow piled on the landscape, transforming it into a treacherous white wasteland. Troops bustled around her, their breath visible in the frigid air, preparing for the imminent battle. The enemy forces were gathering, and the atmosphere crackled with tension.

    ¡°Most of the soldiers here are recruits with less than two months of training,¡± one officer beside her remarked, ¡°they are weak mommas boys, who immediately begun to cry when attacked sharply¡±

    Bora quickly assessed the situation and felt a wave of unease wash over her. The inexperience of these soldiers was glaringly obvious. ¡°Short training, short shrift,¡± she muttered, teeth gritted as she watched raw recruits,These boys needed a backbone, and she was going to be it.

    She began barking orders for vigorious training, her voice cutting through the cold air like a knife. She pushed them to understand the importance of their mission, explaining what was at stake and the dire consequences of failure. Bora motivated them, showing them that their courage was crucial in holding the line.

    Later, during a New Year¡¯s feast, Alam called her through the intercom. ¡°Hey, girl. I noticed your rework on the defensive line. It¡¯s fine, but don¡¯t use all our resources at once. I stocked some iron and wood because I expect the enemy to bombard that position, so we can repair it when they finish.¡±

    Bora stared at the intercom, processing the tactical implications. She knew the True Horde had powerful artillery capable of wreaking havoc. ¡°Understood,¡± she replied, nodding. Preserving resources for future fortifications was wise; the battlefield could shift in an instant.

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam continued. ¡°We¡¯ve got reinforcements¡ªa monk elite strike team from your nation. I want you to attack the enemy force near the mine complex in ?mn?govi Province. They¡¯re using that base to launch their next attack. Disrupting that will slow their progress.¡±

    A smile spread across Bora¡¯s face, her eyes glinting with excitement. Taking down the enemy base would not only disrupt their operations but also create panic among their ranks. ¡°I agree, Commander,¡± she said, her determination solid. ¡°This mission is vital, and I¡¯ll give it my utmost attention.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, and happy New Year,¡± Alam said before the call ended.

    Bora stared at the intercom for a moment, a smile lingering on her lips. She was eager to contribute to the Crescent Alliance¡¯s victory. With renewed resolve, she set out to prepare for the mission.

    Her journey began in Datong, a city nestled in the foothills of the Hengshan Mountains, where urban landscapes met historical sites. As the monk strike team entered Inner Mongolia, with their small numbers they manage to slip the red army border guard,

    these monk is embrace mix of new age. and some of their body is mixed with cybernetic implant. they are elite spec ops in comparison. a pride of purple nation.

    the terrain gradually flattened into a vast, rolling steppe covered in snow. ?mn?govi Province lay deep within the Gobi Desert, its dramatic rock formations rising against the endless horizon.

    The barren desert was a sight to behold, and Bora marveled at the untouched landscape. She felt the extreme cold biting at her skin,. The enemy base was located in this harsh environment, and she steeled herself for the difficult mission.

    As they approached the mine complex, Alam called again. ¡°Report in, Bora.¡±

    She picked up the intercom with a stoic expression. ¡°Yes, Commander. What is it?¡±

    ¡°The enemy lacks defensive structures and likely concentrates on certain areas. At the right time, you can destroy them by surprise.¡±

    Bora nodded, her face still serious. ¡°Understood, Commander. I¡¯m aware of their vulnerabilities. I have a plan ready and will act when the time is right.¡±

    ¡°Very well. Report every advancement. Out.¡±

    Bora hung up, her expression grim. The gravity of the mission weighed heavily on her. One wrong move could jeopardize everything they are in deep enemy territory.. Without delay, she moved forward with the monk strike team, ready to complete her mission.

    As they ventured deeper into the empty desert, the only sounds were the wind and the crunch of snow beneath their feet. The silence felt deafening, the vast emptiness daunting. Hours passed without sight of enemy forces, but Bora remained focused. The cold air bit into her skin, and the snow mixed with sand whipped around them, but they pressed on.

    Finally, they neared the mine complex and spotted enemy forces stationed in a nearby village. Heavily armed and well-trained,. The mine complex was a key strategic site, and Bora needed to find a weakness to exploit before the enemy could react.

    ¡°Trust your intuition. Do your creativity, Bora,¡± Alam¡¯s voice echoed in her mind.

    Bora smirked, her mind racing. She noted several access points to the mine complex, all guarded by troops. The village sat on higher ground, perfect for a surprise attack. She signaled the monk strike team to split into two groups and sneak up on the enemy from both sides.

    As the attack began, the enemy was caught off guard. Confusion erupted in their ranks as the monk strike team launched a two-pronged assault. Bora¡¯s plan was unfolding perfectly, creating chaos among the enemy forces.

    However, the enemy quickly repositioned, setting up defenses and parking a tank inside a warehouse. This presented a challenge, but Bora wasn¡¯t one to back down. She quickly devised a new plan, signaling her team to surround the warehouse and prevent the enemy from escaping.

    With the second strike team in place, the enemy was cornered. Bora ordered the monks to advance and attack. The warehouse became a battleground, smoke grenades filling the air with thick clouds, obscuring vision and sending the enemy into a panic.

    Inside, the fighting was fierce and chaotic. The red army troops, cornered and desperate, began to falter, while the monk strike team pressed on, relentless in their assault.

    After the fight, Alam¡¯s voice crackled through the intercom. ¡°Bravo! Wonderful. I loved how you destroyed the tank by hitting it at the right angle.¡±

    Bora smirked at the praise, bowing her head slightly. ¡°Thank you, Commander. The enemy¡¯s tank was a significant threat, and I had to act quickly to neutralize it. I¡¯m glad my decisions led to success.¡±

    ¡°Well then, your team can return to Datong or continue raiding deeper into enemy territory. The choice is yours.¡±

    Bora studied the map, contemplating the next move. ¡°I believe we should continue our attack and push the enemy back. We can¡¯t let them regroup.¡±

    ¡°Alright, just be careful. I¡¯ll send you intel about hidden bunkers across the steppe. Use them as hideouts or a temporary HQ.¡±

    Nodding with determination, Bora replied, ¡°Yes, Commander. I¡¯ll keep an eye on enemy movements and utilize the bunkers for our advantage. I¡¯ll stay in touch and provide regular updates.¡±

    With her resolve set, Bora turned her focus back to the task at hand, ready to lead her team into the next phase of their mission. The battle for the Gobi Desert had only just begun.

 Chapter 69 New year resolution

    The New Year¡¯s party pulsed below, a riot of colors and laughter spilling into the chilly night air of Xian. Alam stood on the balcony, taking in the dazzling scene: drones danced in the sky, creating choreographed movements that lit up the night, while a projector cast stunning 4D figures onto nearby buildings. Fireworks exploded in the background, painting the sky with vibrant colors¡ªa truly spectacular sight.

    but his mind was elsewhere. He spotted General Zhang, the stoic leader of the Wanderer Group, sitting alone in his office¡ªa solitary figure amidst the chaos. With a mischievous grin, Alam tapped the intercom, sending a cue for the general to join him.

    A moment later, the door creaked open. General Zhang stepped into the room, his brow furrowed in thought. The weight of the past year hung heavy on his shoulders, and he wasn¡¯t in the mood for pleasantries.

    ¡°Hello, man. You working on another poem?¡± Alam asked, his voice light as he licked a cherry popsicle, the bright color contrasting his serious demeanor.

    General Zhang paused, irritation flickering across his features. ¡°No, I¡¯m not writing any poems right now. I have something else on my mind.¡± He took a seat, his posture rigid, as Alam munched away, blissfully unaware of the tension.

    Alam leaned forward, his expression shifting from playful to serious. ¡°Alright. I want your honest opinion about the current situation.¡±

    ¡°From a military perspective,¡± General Zhang replied, his tone grave, ¡°the situation is quite tense. The Red Army is gearing up for a major offensive, and we¡¯re bracing ourselves for it. We¡¯re confident in our abilities, but we can¡¯t let our guard down. It¡¯s going to be a tough battle.¡±

    Alam¡¯s brow furrowed as he chewed thoughtfully on his popsicle. ¡°Do you think we have enough strength to hold out until the Crescent Alliance Army arrives?¡±

    General Zhang inhaled deeply, his gaze steady. ¡°Honestly? Right now, it doesn¡¯t look good. The Red Army is larger and better equipped. If we can¡¯t stop them soon, they¡¯ll overwhelm us. The Crescent Alliance Army will come, but it could take weeks¡ªmaybe months.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam said, taking another bite. ¡°Just yesterday, I heard the Sharing-la Confederation sent a... lone woman.¡± He raised an eyebrow, waiting for General Zhang¡¯s reaction.

    The general¡¯s interest piqued. ¡°You mean the lone warrior they sent to support us? Yes, I heard about that. It¡¯s an unusual move.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I assigned her to maintain defense in Datong and conduct some raids. She¡¯s done well so far, but now I¡¯m more concerned about Sharing-la itself than the Red Army. Do you know what I mean?¡±

    Understanding flashed in General Zhang¡¯s eyes. ¡°Oh, I completely get it. Sharing-la¡¯s been unpredictable lately, especially with their aggressive expansion into Chinese territory. It¡¯s definitely something we need to keep a close eye on.¡±

    Alam chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. ¡°Yeah, haha. I wonder what Zhuge Liang would do in this situation.¡± He winked, the reference to the great strategist hanging in the air like a playful challenge.

    General Zhang couldn¡¯t help but smile. ¡°Indeed, he was one of the greatest strategists of all time. If he were here now, he might find a way to turn the tables in our favor.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Alam said, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°But he¡¯s kinda been dead for like 3,000 years. It¡¯s time for another Zhuge Liang to rise.¡±

    Alam leaned back, swirling the melted remains of his popsicle. ¡°You know,¡± he said, ¡°this whole situation reminds me of the Three Kingdoms period. We¡¯re caught between the Red Nation, like a powerful Wei, and the unpredictable Sharing-la, a Wu waiting to see which way the wind blows. We''re Shu, holding on by our fingernails, hoping for an alliance.¡±

    General Zhang¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°A fitting analogy. But Zhuge Liang couldn¡¯t prevent the fall of Shu in the end.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Alam admitted. ¡°But he made them bleed for it. And his strategies are still studied centuries later. Maybe it¡¯s time for a new Longzhong Plan.¡± (Longzhong Plan was Zhuge Liang''s strategy for Liu Bei to take control of Jing Province and Yi Province and then unite with Sun Quan against Cao Cao)

    General Zhang considered this. ¡°So, you¡¯re suggesting we focus on internal strength and seek strategic alliances?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Just like Liu Bei with Sun Quan. We need the Crescent Alliance, but we can¡¯t become dependent on them. We have to be strong enough to stand on our own.¡±

    General Zhang sighed, a grin lingering on his lips. ¡°Yes, finding someone with that level of genius isn¡¯t easy. They don¡¯t make them like they used to.¡±

    Alam leaned back, offering General Zhang the popsicle. ¡°Want one?, zhuge?¡±

    Glancing at the bright treat but feeling the weight of the conversation, General Zhang shook his head. ¡°Thank you, but I¡¯m not in the mood for a popsicle right now.¡±

    ¡°Ah, come on! Are you sure you¡¯re not writing a new poem? I¡¯m actually a fan of yours.¡± Alam took a big bite, juice dribbling down his chin.

    General Zhang chuckled softly, his annoyance fading. ¡°No poems today. I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re a fan.¡±

    ¡°Your poems are short and honest. I like that,¡± Alam replied, his tone sincere.

    As Alam looked out over the Bell Tower, he mused, ¡°Conquering is easy. Defending is another story.¡±

    General Zhang followed his gaze. ¡°Indeed. Conquest is one thing, but holding the land is a different challenge altogether. The Red Army won¡¯t give up easily. We¡¯ll need to defend this city with everything we¡¯ve got.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Alam clapped his hands together, shifting the mood again. ¡°Anyway, why so gloomy? Do you have a wife?¡±

    General Zhang chuckled, surprised by the abrupt question. ¡°I¡¯m not gloomy¡ªjust worried about the situation. As for a wife? No, I don¡¯t have one.¡±

    ¡°Why not? I think many women would like a multi-talented man like you.¡±

    ¡°Not sure leading an army and facing death every day is very attractive,¡± he said, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. ¡°Besides, I have high standards.¡±

    ¡°High standards? Like what?¡±

    General Zhang¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°I want someone smart, who can challenge me intellectually. Independent and driven, with a passion for life. Beauty matters, but inner beauty is even more precious. And she has to be a fighter.¡±

    Alam laughed, his eyes dancing. ¡°Believe it or not, we¡¯ve got many women warriors in our barracks.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure there are strong women in the Wanderer Group,¡± General Zhang said, intrigued, ¡°but I¡¯m looking for more than just physical strength. I want someone who can match me in all aspects.¡±

    ¡°What about my secretary, Fang? She¡¯s a very strong woman,¡± Alam suggested, a teasing glint in his eyes.

    General Zhang raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming. ¡°That¡¯s an interesting suggestion. She¡¯s smart and capable. My interest is piqued.¡±

    ¡°Use your tactics fast, General. Women like that usually have someone waiting in the wings.¡±

    General Zhang chuckled, glancing at Fang with newfound interest. ¡°You¡¯re right. I need to act before someone else snatches her away. She sounds like a unique woman.¡±

    ¡°Good luck with your hunting.¡± Alam patted him on the shoulder, a playful grin plastered on his face.

    With a determined nod, General Zhang stood up, a new resolve coursing through him. As he left the office, he felt the weight of the world lift slightly, the festive sounds of the New Year¡¯s celebration echoing in his mind.

    meanwhile in other side of the world. the grid colosseum Los Angeles, California, the new year party is.. bit different. The air buzzed with anticipation, electric with the cries of countless participants flocking to the arena. This wasn¡¯t just any game; it was a spectacle, a brawl for glory, and a chance to prove oneself in a world teetering on the brink. The Colosseum loomed large, a stark reminder of humanity''s primal roots, where freedom and chaos danced an intricate tango.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    On the podium, Zion stood tall, a figure of authority amidst the swirling excitement. His voice cut through the din, resonating with a clarity that demanded attention. The crowd hushed, eyes fixed on him, a sea of faces eager for his words.

    ¡°Citizens of the free world!¡± Zion began, his tone resolute. ¡°We stand on the cusp of a great adventure, one that will define our future. Our enemies seek to destroy the freedom and prosperity we have achieved. They want to drag us back to the dark days of oppression and tyranny!¡±

    His voice swelled, fueled by the fervor of the crowd. ¡°We cannot allow this to happen! We must unite and fight for our freedom, our sovereignty, our way of life! Let us rise up and face this challenge head-on! Together, we can win this war! Let us not let our adversaries dictate our future. Together, we will create a brighter world!¡±

    The crowd erupted into applause, cheers echoing through the arena like thunder. Zion¡¯s heart raced, the energy igniting a fire within him. But the thrill was short-lived, as the heavy metal band struck up a raucous tune, drowning the cheers in a cacophony of sound.

    As the first gladiators entered the arena, Zion settled into his seat beside Kassandra, his sharp-eyed secretary, and a cadre of generals. Bloodsport was about to commence, and he couldn¡¯t help but feel a rush of excitement at the sight of combatants eager to prove themselves.

    Kassandra leaned in, her voice laced with sarcasm. ¡°You don¡¯t want to get your hands dirty again, do you?¡±

    Zion smirked, his gaze locked on the arena. ¡°Tempting, isn¡¯t it? But I think I¡¯ll leave the bloodbath to the professionals.¡±

    ¡°Good choice,¡± Kassandra replied, her tone shifting to something more serious. ¡°We lost many field officers in the winter war. After this game, we¡¯ll recruit the gladiator winners to fill those gaps. So I hope you¡¯re ready with your next speech.¡±

    Zion nodded, still riveted by the chaos below. The idea of fresh blood mingling with his ranks intrigued him. He turned to Kassandra, ready to share his thoughts, when the game concluded and the arena fell silent.

    Later, in the command room, Zion and Kassandra were joined by four figures¡ªthe Wardogs.

    First up was Juggernaut, a hulking presence in a shiny silver exosuit, his bald head gleaming under the lights.

    Next was Trickster, his skin a striking dark green, with hair split into two colors: white on the left and black on the right, giving him a mischievous look.

    Then there was Weaver, dressed in the standard military garb of the Red Nation, a noticeable scar running down his cheek adding to his rugged appearance.

    Finally, in the corner sat Wraith himself, his presence felt even in silence.

    Kassandra shifted from playful banter to serious mode. ¡°Sir, we intercepted a transmission from our agent in Red Nation territory. There¡¯s been a breach at the gladiator training camp. Our assets have gone dark.¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression darkened, concern etched on his face. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Kassandra¡¯s eyes narrowed, her voice steady. ¡°Those assets were supposed to provide intel on troop movements and infrastructure upgrades. They¡¯re valuable, and I¡¯ll do everything I can to recover them.¡±

    ¡°Make it happen,¡± Zion commanded, his tone firm. ¡°I want to know everything about this gladiator rebellion¡ªwho¡¯s behind it and what their motivations are.¡±

    Behind him, the Wardogs stood at attention, their faces masks of grim determination. Kassandra turned to them, her gaze unwavering.

    ¡°Understood, sir. We¡¯ll launch an investigation immediately,¡± she assured him.

    The lieutenants echoed in unison, ¡°We won¡¯t stop until we¡¯ve identified the cause of this rebellion and neutralized the threat.¡±

    Zion nodded, his mind racing with strategies. The rebellion posed a potential threat to the free world, and it had to be dealt with decisively. ¡°Good. We need to act swiftly.¡±

    As Zion exited the command room, Kassandra turned to the Wardogs. ¡°What do you think?¡±

    Weaver, the most cunning of the bunch, shrugged. ¡°That gladiator rebellion is going to shake the whole Red Nation. Our assets will have to handle that mess one way or another.¡±

    Trickster, ever the mischievous strategist, grinned. ¡°A rebellion means opportunity. We can use this to our advantage.¡±

    Wraith¡¯s voice, a low rasp, echoed from the shadows. ¡°Destabilization.¡±

    Kassandra glared at Wraith and Trickster. ¡°How can this be good for us? The gladiators are the backbone of their army!¡±

    Trickster laughed, mischief glinting in his eyes. ¡°If a gladiator rebellion can shake the Red Nation to its core Backbones break. Especially cracked ones.¡± He mimed a cracking sound. ¡°A spark is all it takes.¡±

    Kassandra crossed her arms, skepticism on her face. ¡°I never know what¡¯s going on in your heads, but Zion trusts you. So, I¡¯ll leave this matter to you.¡±

    Weaver nodded, his voice low and conspiratorial. ¡°The Red Nation¡¯s gladiators are tough, but they¡¯re only human. After all the brutality they¡¯ve witnessed, it¡¯s no wonder they¡¯re rising up. We need to turn the gladiators against their masters. Once we break their trust, the whole empire will start to fall apart.¡±

    Kassandra raised an eyebrow. ¡°So, you¡¯re planning for a rebellion, are you?¡±

    Weaver leaned forward. ¡°They¡¯re tired of being tools. We just need to¡­ adjust their focus.¡±

    Juggernaut nodded approvingly. ¡°Clever. This way, we destabilize the Red Nation without risking our own elite forces.¡±

    Wraith chimed in, ¡°It¡¯ll be slow work, but if we can convince enough gladiators to turn against their masters, it could trigger a chain reaction that brings down the entire empire.¡±

    Kassandra remained quiet, contemplating the implications. ¡°What happens after the Red Nation falls?¡±

    Weaver¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°A new world order. Zion¡¯s order. Pax Zionica. Finally, peace.¡±

    Kassandra¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Peace? By destroying one of the nations he leads?¡±

    Weaver met her gaze, his confidence unwavering. ¡°A necessary sacrifice for a greater future.¡±

    Kassandra leaned forward. ¡°Explain. Zion leads both the Khaganate and the Red Nation. How does destroying one benefit him?¡±

    Weaver spread his arms. ¡°The Red Nation is a tool. A buffer. But it¡¯s also a liability. It dilutes Zion¡¯s power. Without it¡­¡± He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

    Kassandra¡¯s skepticism was palpable. ¡°No more Red Nation? That¡¯s¡­ revolution. Is that what Zion wants? We¡¯re still struggling to fully integrate the Khaganate, and now you¡¯re talking about dissolving the Red Nation too? It¡¯s insane.¡±

    Weaver¡¯s smile faded, his tone sharpening. ¡°Insane? Or strategic? Our intel is clear: the Red Nation is crumbling. The gladiators are just the first crack. This is our chance.¡±

    Kassandra crossed her arms. ¡°And the war in Asia? The True Horde? The Crescent Alliance?¡±

    Weaver shrugged. ¡°Distractions. While they¡¯re focused on us, we¡¯ll be dismantling the Red Nation from within.¡±

    Kassandra rubbed her temples, a headache forming. ¡°I still don¡¯t see how this benefits Zion. He loses a massive army.¡±

    Weaver leaned in, his voice low. ¡°He loses a puppet army. He gains absolute control. No more divided loyalties. No more competing power structures. Just Zion.¡± He paused, letting his words sink in. ¡°And those gladiator armies? They¡¯ll be¡­ repurposed.¡±

    Kassandra¡¯s eyes widened slightly. She finally understood. The Red Nation wasn''t just being weakened; it was being absorbed. Its resources, its infrastructure, its soldiers¡ªall would be folded into Zion¡¯s personal power base.And Zion¡­ he wouldn''t be leading two nations anymore. He''d be leading an empire.

    A few days later, the atmosphere in California Red¡¯s command center was thick with tension. A red officer approached Zion. ¡°Sir, a transmission from Xian. Alam requests a parley.¡±

    Zion¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Another gambit? Like Pompey before Pharsalus, he seems confident despite his weaker position. The Crescent Alliance is still weeks away.¡± He turned to Kassandra. ¡°Accept the call.¡±

    The monitor flickered, revealing Alam¡¯s grinning face. ¡°Happy New Year, Red Hair! Sleep well?¡±

    Zion offered a tight smile. ¡°And to you, Alam. Let¡¯s dispense with the pleasantries.¡±

    ¡°Did you receive my New Year gift?¡± Alam asked, mischief dancing in his eyes.

    Zion nodded slowly, recalling the unexpected gesture. ¡°I did. It was thoughtful¡ªunexpected. I appreciate the sentiment.¡±

    Alam chuckled, his eyes glinting. ¡°Do you like the thrill and hate in your body?¡±

    Zion felt those emotions stirring again, but he maintained his composure. ¡°I felt some of both, yes. Anger mainly towards you, not the gift itself.¡±

    ¡°Ahaha! Flattered! Good news, perhaps it¡¯s not just a gift.¡± Alam winked, leaning in closer to the screen.

    Intrigue flickered in Zion¡¯s eyes. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Take a look.¡± Alam gestured to the side, and the screen displayed a list of Blood Khaganate officers and generals. ¡°Recognize them? Don¡¯t say it¡ªmaybe you don¡¯t. You see them as pawns.¡±

    Zion scanned the names, a flicker of satisfaction warming his expression. ¡°They think too much. They¡¯ll fight you.¡±

    Alam¡¯s grin widened. ¡°They probably overthink. Countless plans to counter your next move.¡±

    ¡°Are you aware of a potential rebellion?¡± Zion asked, his tone sharp.

    ¡°Indeed. How will you counter it?¡± Alam pressed, curiosity evident.

    Zion¡¯s answer was curt. ¡°Identifying its leaders and base is the first step. Then a targeted attack to eliminate or capture key commanders. Disorient them, make them easier to deal with.¡±

    ¡°Classic. No emotion?¡± Alam teased.

    Zion¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°No. My duty is to protect the free world. Countering threats like this rebellion is paramount. But my duty outweighs potential threats¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ weird. Tell me about your rise to power. How did you kill General Wu?¡± Alam¡¯s tone shifted, curiosity piquing.

    Zion met Alam¡¯s gaze, his face an emotionless mask as he began his story. He recounted his days as a gladiator in the Blood Khaganate Empire, leading up to the fateful duel with General Wu, the leader of the Blood Khaganate army, then meet wraith and conquer north america

    ¡°Any feelings after taking his life?¡± Alam asked, his voice low.

    Zion¡¯s expression remained devoid of emotion. ¡°It was necessary. The Blood Khaganate was built on violence and tyranny. Wu was a ruthless leader. Taking his life was the only way to ensure freedom for the Blood Khaganate and destroy the Empire.¡±

    Alam leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. ¡°Do we have to be ruthless too?¡±

    Zion paused, weighing his thoughts. ¡°There are similarities between the Blood Khaganate and the Red Nation,¡± he began, his voice steady. ¡°Both are ruthless, bloodthirsty, obsessed with power and control. But the Blood Khaganate was born from harsh deserts and wastelands,

    and in red nation., only the ruthless survive. We will build a society where loyalty is rewarded, and weakness is punished.¡±

    Alam¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°No, I¡¯m not talking about nations. I¡¯m talking about you. Do you think of yourself as ruthless?¡±

    Zion contemplated the question, the silence stretching between them like a taut wire. Alam broke it with a chuckle. ¡°If I talk about myself¡­ yeah, perhaps I¡¯m kinda ruthless.¡±

    Zion couldn¡¯t help but smile, impressed by Alam¡¯s honesty. ¡°And how about you, Red Hair?¡± Alam asked, his tone playful.

    Zion¡¯s smile widened, recalling their banter in the Colosseum. ¡°I¡¯m not ruthless like you, Alam. I¡¯m more of a calculating and strategic leader.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, smirking. ¡°I see. That¡¯s precisely what a ruthless person would say.¡±

    Zion laughed, the tension easing a notch as he appreciated Alam¡¯s wit. ¡°Touch¨¦.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s do a truce,¡± Alam proposed suddenly. ¡°Stop attacking me, and we¡¯ll fight together against your rebellious general.¡±

    Zion blinked, taken aback by Alam¡¯s boldness. He fell silent, contemplating the implications of such an alliance. Admiration swelled within him for Alam¡¯s straightforwardness. ¡°So¡­¡± Alam prompted, his gaze unwavering.

    ¡°I agree,¡± Zion replied, his voice steady. ¡°A truce may benefit us both in the short term. We can focus on dealing with the rebellious general and his forces. But let me be clear: this truce is temporary. Once the rebellion is dealt with, we will resume our conflict.¡±

    Sniff ¡°... okay, good enough,¡± Alam said,

    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. We¡¯ll work together to address the rebellion, and we won¡¯t attack each other during this time,¡± Zion affirmed.

    Alam sniff,. ¡°Yes, I guarantee the Wanderer and True Horde armies will stop killing your poor troops in the steppes.¡±

    Zion nodded, the weight of the moment settling in. ¡°I¡¯ll trust your word on this. The free world forces will halt operations against the Wanderer and True Horde for now, as we focus on the rebellion. Afterward, we can resume our conflicts.¡±

    ¡°Very well,¡± Alam replied. ¡°And one last thing... what¡¯s your favorite food?¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression remained serious, but a playful spark ignited within him. ¡°My favorite food? I really love steak. What about you?¡±

    ¡°Ahaha! A classic dictator food! You crave power and domination, don¡¯t you?¡± Alam teased.

    Zion smirked, enjoying the banter. ¡°I do not crave power and domination. I seek to protect the free world from tyrants. Steak is just delicious and nourishing; it helps me maintain my strength.¡±

    ¡°I like chocolate cake and bitter coffee,¡± Alam said, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. ¡°I play hard and fight hard.¡±

    Zion nodded, still grinning. ¡°I see you enjoy things that excite and energize you. Chocolate cake gives you that sugar rush, and bitter coffee is a caffeine jolt. I can see how those fit your personality.¡±

    ¡°Very well... don¡¯t die too quickly,¡± Alam said with mock seriousness. ¡°I want to see you in prison.¡± Then the call ended, leaving Zion in contemplative silence.

    His thoughts swirled with mixed emotions¡ªamusement and a grudging respect for Alam¡¯s blunt honesty. ¡°A temporary alliance. Like Caesar and Pompey against the Senate. A convenient arrangement until one of us decides to betray the other.¡±

    Kassandra broke the silence. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ unconventional. A dangerous quality in an enemy.¡±

    Zion''s smile faded. "This truce is temporary. Once the rebellion is crushed, we''ll remind the Khan who''s in charge." He turned to Kassandra. "Our forces are positioned in Asia. The Strato Cannon is ready. A swift strike against the disloyal elements within the Red Nation, then we turn our full attention to the True Horde."

    Kassandra frowned. "Identifying those ''disloyal elements'' is the problem, sir. The Red Nation¡­ it''s not a homogenous force. We''re talking about a dozen different cultures, religions, even ideologies crammed together. It''s a powder keg."

    Zion¡¯s gaze drifted to the cityscape. "Diversity can be a strength," he mused, though his tone suggested he wasn''t entirely convinced.

    "Or a weakness," Kassandra countered. "Foreign agents could exploit those divisions. Plant seeds of dissent. Turn them against each other, and against us."

    Zion''s jaw tightened. "Which is why we''ll be watching them closely. Increased surveillance. Strict control of communications. Any hint of trouble, we''ll squash it."

    While the world watches us deal with our internal problems, we will consolidate our power.

 Chapter 70 The Gathering Storm

    The Wanderers had sown discord throughout the Khaganate and Free World territories. Alam knew it was a temporary reprieve. Zion would retaliate. He focused on preparing for the inevitable storm.

    Later, Alam made his way to the underground bunker, eager for the latest updates. Croque, the ever-enthusiastic doll engineer, greeted him at the entrance.

    ¡°So... show me the good news,¡± Alam said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

    ¡°Hey there, Alam! I have fantastic news! We¡¯ve kicked off mass production of the mud launcher prototype. We¡¯ll have enough to launch the main offensive soon!¡± Croque beamed, her cheerful smile brightening the dim space.

    ¡°Indeed... dolls are good, fast workers,¡± Alam replied, giving her a friendly pat on the head.

    Croque felt a rush of embarrassment but secretly enjoyed the warmth of the gesture. Physical contact was new to her, but Alam¡¯s hand felt nice.

    ¡°Heh, thanks! It¡¯s all thanks to the dolls¡¯ hard work that we¡¯ve been able to manufacture the mud launchers so efficiently,¡± she said, her pride evident.

    ¡°Yeah... but why are you helping me?¡± Alam asked, genuinely curious.

    Croque hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts. ¡°Well, I suppose I¡¯m curious about your plan to overthrow the Expeditionary Red Army and the Free World. I want to see if it¡¯s really possible to change this planet, which has been stuck in endless warfare between these two superstates. It¡¯s an interesting challenge, and I¡¯m eager to see the results.¡±

    With that, Alam felt a renewed sense of purpose. Together, they were on the brink of something big, and the stakes had never been higher.

    ¡°Hhm... interesting. So, besides being a factory worker, what else can dolls do?¡± Alam inquired.

    Croque thought for a moment. ¡°Besides manufacturing, dolls are used for various tasks like combat and maintenance. Many doll units support human soldiers on the battlefield, while others help with construction and facility upkeep. Some even serve in domestic roles, like housemaids and assistants.¡±

    ¡°Dolls as soldiers?¡± Alam asked, intrigued.

    ¡°Yes! Dolls can be outfitted with weapons and support systems, making them suitable for military applications. They maintain peak physical performance for long periods, are immune to extreme environments, and are less affected by emotions, making them obedient and responsive to orders. These traits make dolls excellent candidates for military use.¡±

    ¡°I see the idea... but isn¡¯t using AI forbidden in warfare?¡± Alam pressed.

    Croque nodded. ¡°That¡¯s a valid question. While there¡¯s no specific law that outright bans AI in war, many people oppose it due to ethical concerns and potential unintended consequences. They worry that AI could become a ¡®killer machine¡¯ that loses any sense of humanity or conscience. There¡¯s also the fear that AI might not distinguish between combatants and civilians, increasing the risk of innocent casualties.¡±

    ¡°So, people still use it, huh?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s correct. Despite the opposition, some countries and organizations still utilize AI in military operations. They believe the advantages, like better accuracy and reduced friendly fire risks, outweigh the moral dilemmas.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure. Anyway, show me the weapon.¡±

    Croque nodded and led Alam into the weapon manufacturing facility where the mud launchers were being produced and stored.

    ¡°Alright, we¡¯re here. Take a look!¡±

    She gestured toward the stacks of mud launchers neatly arranged in the facility. Thousands of them stood ready, showcasing the efficiency of the doll workers and the success of their production line.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    In the grand hall of Xian Palace, Alam addressed the assembled warlords. The room crackled with tension. These were men who saw themselves as emperors in waiting, each clinging to the faded glory of ancient dynasties.

    as the influence of the True Horde spread closer to Central China, they found themselves clashing with more traditional views. Some even questioned Alam''s legitimacy, suggesting he wasn''t "Chinese enough" to rule the region. But today, Alam stood tall and confident.

    With a grin spreading across his face, Alam stepped forward. ¡°Greetings, kings and generals¡ªor should I say, wannabe kings?¡± He raised an eyebrow, eliciting a few chuckles. ¡°Today, we gather to discuss the fate of China, and I thank you for responding to my invitation. We must unite against our common enemy: the Red Army.¡±

    He gestured to a holographic map displaying Red Army troop movements. ¡°One to three million strong. They will sweep through the north like a flood if we remain divided.

    . If we continue squabbling over petty territory or cling to outdated ideologies, it¡¯s only a matter of time before we¡¯re defeated.¡±

    The mood in the room shifted palpably; whispers of concern spread like wildfire. Alam watched as the gravity of the situation settled in. The warlords leaned in closer, their faces illuminated by the screen¡¯s glow,

    ¡°Now, it¡¯s clear that the True Horde has been fighting them since the beginning of this war,¡± Alam asserted, his voice gaining strength. ¡°Today, I offer you all a chance to join the Confederation and repel the Red Army.¡±

    A charged atmosphere enveloped the hall. The warlords exchanged solemn glances as they processed Alam¡¯s proposal.

    ¡°Please,¡± Alam pressed, taking a seat, ¡°the question is simple: will you unite to fight this common enemy?¡±

    The silence was deafening as the attendees contemplated his words. One by one, hands began to rise¡ªtentative at first, then with increasing confidence.

    A thin man with glasses, seated in a corner, raised his hand. ¡°Yes, please. My name is Li Feng, ruler of the Han Dynasty Restoration Movement. I believe a confederation is a wise decision. It would allow us to focus our forces on a single threat. We must prepare for a prolonged conflict; the Red Army will not back down easily.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Li Feng,¡± Alam replied, his smile genuine. ¡°But will you trust your army and resources under the banner of the True Horde without question?¡±

    Li Feng nodded firmly. ¡°I will place my army and resources under your banner. The stakes are too high to hesitate. We must unite if we wish to stand against their overwhelming numbers. I trust you, Alam, to lead us to victory.¡±

    Alam¡¯s heart swelled with pride. ¡°What an honor. Thank you. And how about the rest of you?¡±

    Hands shot up across the room, a chorus of support forming. The warlords seemed ready to rally behind Alam, their spirits lifted by the possibility of unity.

    But one figure remained silent: a chubby man in body armor, his eyes closed in contemplation. Alam turned to him, curiosity piqued. ¡°Sir, do you have something to say?¡±

    The chubby man opened his eyes slowly, scanning the room with a neutral expression. ¡°As a representative of the Qin Dynasty Restoration Movement, I find myself torn,¡± he began, his voice steady. ¡°On one hand, I see the wisdom in joining forces with the Wanderer Group¡­¡±

    Alam interjected, ¡°Yes, sometimes pride must be set aside for the greater good. Will you and your faction be brave enough to take that step?¡±

    The chubby man hesitated, weighing his options. Finally, he nodded. ¡°Yes. I am willing to set aside my personal prejudices for a greater cause. The Qin Dynasty Restoration Movement stands ready to fight alongside the Wanderer Group against the Red Army.¡±

    "Thank you," Alam said, a heavy sigh escaping him. ¡°Then let us raise our cups¡ªfor the True Horde!¡±

    Cheers erupted in the hall as cups were raised high, the sound of clinking reverberating through the air. ¡°Long live Alam!¡± some shouted, their voices filled with newfound fervor. The atmosphere crackled with energy, a unity forged in the heat of impending battle.

    With this renewed sense of purpose, the True Horde stood poised to confront the Red Army, ready to face the storm that loomed on the horizon. Alam¡¯s heart raced with the thrill of leadership, aware that this was just the beginning of a formidable alliance¡ªa force that could change the fate of China forever.

    As the meeting wrapped up, the grand hall of the Xian Palace began to empty, the air still crackling with the energy of united purpose. Alam spotted General Zhang leaning against a pillar just outside the room, a contemplative look on his face.

    ¡°Well, General,¡± Alam called, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. ¡°Good day, huh? Are you in the mood for a poem now?¡±

    General Zhang lifted his head, a faint smile breaking through his stoic demeanor. ¡°Indeed it is. The warlords of China are now united under the banner of the True Horde, ready to face the Red Army¡¯s impending invasion. But now the real work begins. We must prepare our forces and strategies to confront the enemy directly.¡±

    ¡°Good!¡± Alam grinned, leaning in with mock seriousness. ¡°Say something poetic. I¡¯m all ears.¡±

    Zhang chuckled softly, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. ¡°Very well. How about this?¡± He cleared his throat dramatically before reciting:

    ¡°Though our battles may leave the fields in ruins,

    And our foes may cry of ruin and demise,

    Yet we press forth with conviction and hope,

    For in the ruins of battle, a new dawn will rise.¡±

    Alam¡¯s smile widened, his enthusiasm infectious. ¡°Now that I like! It¡¯s very relatable to our current situation.¡± He took a sip from his cup, savoring the moment.

    General Zhang nodded, visibly pleased with Alam¡¯s praise, but his mind was already shifting back to the pressing concerns of impending war. The gathering of warlords had been a significant step, but the true challenge lay ahead

    ¡°Do you notice something strange?¡± Alam¡¯s tone turned thoughtful. ¡°Like, do you think those warlords are really fighting for something more than just the names of ancient empires?¡±

    Zhang considered this. ¡°They cling to the past, yes. But they also yearn for a unified China. Nostalgia can be a powerful motivator.¡±

    Alam stretched his arms overhead, a playful expression crossing his face. ¡°Fighting for ancient beliefs sounds romantic, but it¡¯s unrealistic.¡±

    Zhang considered this, stroking his beard again. ¡°There¡¯s definitely romance in nostalgia, a yearning for what once was. But we must ground our goals in reality. Sentiment can¡¯t overshadow the practicalities of our current situation.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of practicalities,¡± Alam said, a mischievous glint in his eye, ¡°have you flirted with Fang yet?¡±

    General Zhang chuckled, a warmth spreading across his face. ¡°Ah, Fang... Yes, I¡¯ve managed to form a relationship with her. She¡¯s a charming woman, and her fighting skills are quite impressive. I hope to explore this relationship further and see where it leads us.¡±

    ¡°Good!¡± Alam clapped him on the shoulder, his spirits visibly lifted. ¡°That makes my day even better. Stay strong, General.¡± With that, he turned to leave.

    As Alam walked away, General Zhang felt a wave of relief wash over him. Alam¡¯s encouragement was a balm to his worries. With a renewed sense of purpose, he prepared to resume his duties, ready to lead his forces into the brewing storm. The weight of the impending battle loomed large, but he was not alone. Together with Alam and the united warlords, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead.

 Chapter 71 The War Council

    In January, Alam called a war council in Xian Palace. The opulent room felt tense as he addressed Baihu, Jax, General Zhang, and other top Wanderers. The future of their newly won territory¡ªtheir survival, even¡ªhung in the balance.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Alam began, his voice firm but friendly. ¡°We control most of China now. Bringing these new territories and armies into the True Horde is going to be a huge job. We¡¯re taking on their generals and officers too, but we¡¯re going to test them first. I don¡¯t care if they¡¯re old war heroes¡ªwe need brains, not just medals.¡±

    The room went quiet. Everyone understood: this wasn¡¯t just about numbers; it was about loyalty and skill.

    ¡°A lot of these leaders are stuck in the past,¡± Alam continued. ¡°Their armies are outdated, and they probably hate each other. Our officers will be key to making this work.¡±

    The officers nodded, looking both determined and worried. They knew how tough it would be to unite these old enemies.

    ¡°We¡¯re stretched thin, so we need to be the backbone of this whole thing,¡± Alam said, looking around the room. ¡°Anyone want to add anything?¡±

    Baihu stepped forward. ¡°Sir, the Wanderer officers are ready to lead these new forces. We¡¯re trained and ready. We¡¯ll make sure the integration goes smoothly.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam replied. ¡°But we need to watch for trouble. We need to be ready to deal with any problems that come up.¡±

    Baihu nodded, understanding.

    Alam rubbed his chin. ¡°Basically, I need you all on the same page as me.¡±

    The officers exchanged glances. They knew what he meant: total loyalty.

    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about why China¡¯s been divided for so long and why these warlords popped up in the first place,¡± Alam said. ¡°A little history lesson will help us understand our new allies.¡±

    One representative stood up. ¡°Sir, the Warring States period lasted for decades. Constant fighting led to the Qin dynasty, then the Three Kingdoms: the Blood Khaganate, the Xian Empire, and the Flying Dragon. It was a mess of warlords fighting for power.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Alam said. ¡°But why do they all use these old empire names?¡±

    ¡°To make themselves seem more important,¡± the representative replied. ¡°To connect themselves to past glory.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Alam continued, his voice rising. ¡°They seek to see themselves as successors of the past. But we, the True Horde, are different. We are new and original, with our own vision.¡±

    ¡°Now,¡± he announced, raising his cup, ¡°we are making history for the True Horde!¡±

    The assembled members raised their cups in unison, their faces set with determination. The True Horde would forge a new path, striving for a united and prosperous China.

    As the discussion shifted, officers began to analyze the various factions they had recruited. The atmosphere was lively, filled with intense debate about their histories, reputations, and conflicts. The officers knew that understanding their new allies was crucial to their success.

    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about how to deal with factions that have a bad reputation,¡± Alam prompted, his gaze sweeping the room.

    One officer spoke up, cautious yet firm. ¡°We must be mindful of those factions. While they may be allies now, we cannot forget their past actions. We must maintain control and be ready to act decisively if they threaten our unity.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Alam replied, his expression serious. ¡°But some of our soldiers are vagabonds and outlaws. We need to offer them a chance to change. We must keep our eyes on them, but we won¡¯t be overly harsh.¡±

    A murmur of agreement rippled through the group. Alam¡¯s point resonated; many within the Wanderer Group had joined for second chances, fleeing their pasts.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam continued. ¡°But as the prophet said, betrayal is one of the worst sins. We¡¯ll tolerate their dubious reputations, but zero tolerance for betrayal.¡±

    The officers nodded, understanding the gravity of Alam¡¯s words. Betrayal could fracture their unity and lead to ruin.

    ¡°Now, let¡¯s move on,¡± Alam said, shifting the focus to a map of China projected on the screen. ¡°With most factions joined, we can now deal with the remaining minor factions while we maintain a short truce with the Red Nation. We will position ourselves as the dominant power in China once the truce is over.¡±

    ¡°Fang,¡± Alam called, ¡°can you give us a quick intel briefing on the minor factions resisting us?¡±

    Fang stepped forward, a data screen in hand. ¡°Currently, six minor factions are opposing the True Horde. The remants Flying Dragon in East China and the Blood Khaganate in the north are the largest. The Xian Empire and White Lotus Society are smaller but significant. The Phantom Cult and Shadow Guard are the smallest but fiercely resistant.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Alam said, leaning closer. ¡°The Flying Dragon? Didn¡¯t we destroy their base three years ago? How did they revive?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Fang confirmed. ¡°A new leader has emerged¡ªcharismatic and inspiring. They¡¯ve rallied their remnants and become a formidable force once again.¡±

    ¡°And the Xian Empire? They still resist us in the mountains?¡± Alam probed.

    ¡°Correct,¡± Fang replied. ¡°They refuse to back down, despite losing their capital.¡±

    ¡°What about the Phantom Cult and Shadow Guard? Those names sound intriguing,¡± Alam said, a grin forming.

    Fang nodded, her tone serious. ¡°The Phantom Cult is secretive and known for advanced technology and covert operations. their technology blurring the lines between reality and illusion. They say they can move through shadows, manipulate minds, and even predict the future

    The Shadow Guard, however, is well-armed and organized, dedicated to defending their territory. They have yet to be defeated in direct confrontations.¡±

    ¡°And the White Lotus?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°The White Lotus Society values tradition and cultural heritage above all,¡± Fang explained. ¡°They are descendants of ancient clans, believing they are the rightful rulers. They resent modernity and foreign influence, committed to preserving their way of life.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Right,¡± Alam said, his brow furrowing. ¡°We should handle the White Lotus delicately. Despite their small numbers, harsh measures could damage our reputation.¡±

    Fang nodded, recognizing the wisdom in Alam¡¯s approach. The White Lotus Society¡¯s idealism could complicate matters if not managed carefully.

    ¡°Alright, gentlemen and brave woman,¡± Alam concluded, ¡°we¡¯ll prioritize eliminating the remnants of the Xian Empire and the Flying Dragon alongside our new allies. We¡¯ll gather more intel on the Shadow Guard and Phantom Cult first. Any questions?¡±

    The gathered members exchanged glances, nodding in agreement. They understood the plan and the priorities laid out before them.

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam said, satisfied. ¡°And Fang, arrange for a meeting with the leader of the White Lotus.¡±

    Fang nodded, ready to facilitate the meeting.

    Just a day later, she arrived at Alam¡¯s office, excitement in her voice. ¡°The leader of the White Lotus Society has agreed to meet with you.¡±

    ¡°Well, that was quick!¡± Alam exclaimed, leaning forward. ¡°Where do they want to meet?¡±

    Fang¡¯s smile widened. ¡°They prefer a neutral location to avoid any potential conflicts. I suggest the ancient ruins of a temple¡ªa place without political or religious significance.¡±

    ¡°Great idea,¡± Alam said, considering the map. ¡°How about the Mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor?¡±

    Fang nodded enthusiastically. ¡°That works perfectly. It¡¯s a historical, neutral site. A fitting backdrop for a meeting with the leader of the White Lotus Society.¡±

    As Alam finalized the details, a sense of anticipation filled the room. This meeting could be pivotal, an opportunity to bridge the gaps between past grievances and a hopeful future. The path ahead was fraught with challenges, but Alam felt a flicker of optimism. Together, they were crafting a new legacy¡ªa True Horde that would not just honor the past, but redefine it.

    In the heart of winter, Alam stood at the center of the vast Mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor, the cold biting at his skin as he awaited the leader of the White Lotus Society. The expansive grounds around him were eerily silent, save for the muffled crunch of snow beneath the heavy boots of his Wanderer Group soldiers, who stood vigil, eyes scanning the desolate landscape for any hint of danger.

    The imposing mound of the mausoleum loomed in the distance, a testament to ancient power and ambition. Alam felt the weight of history pressing down on him, a stark reminder of the legacies he was trying to forge.

    After a brief moment, a cart creaked toward him, pulled by a weary-looking horse. An old man with long, white hair and a beard stepped down, dressed in a pristine white robe that fluttered slightly in the cold wind. He bowed before Alam, his movements slow but dignified.

    ¡°Welcome,¡± Alam said, bowing slightly in return. ¡°Thank you for accepting my invitation.¡±

    The old man, his pale face gaunt yet composed, remained silent, his long hair framing his features like a ghostly shroud. Alam sized him up, trying to gauge the intentions of this enigmatic leader.

    ¡°Ehem... This is the third time I¡¯ve visited this place since I took Xian,¡± Alam continued, breaking the tension. ¡°Especially the terracotta warriors. They represent the peak of what power can give a mortal man.¡±

    The old man nodded slowly, as if he understood the significance of Alam¡¯s words. The mausoleum, with its vast array of terracotta figures, was indeed a monumental testament to the power and ambition of a long-gone empire.

    ¡°Now,¡± Alam pressed on, ¡°you¡¯ve heard the news. Most major factions in China have joined my True Horde confederation¡ªboth your allies and your enemies. So, the question is: why don¡¯t you follow them?¡±

    The old man¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of emotion crossing his stoic features. He took a moment before he spoke, his voice low and steady. ¡°Do you want me to tell you the truth?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam replied, leaning in, intrigued.

    ¡°I do not wish to kneel before another. I will not surrender my freedom or the freedom of my people,¡± he stated firmly. ¡°I refuse to let a distant empire dictate our destiny.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Alam said, considering the weight of the old man¡¯s words. ¡°But this isn¡¯t just about submission; it¡¯s about survival. As the old saying goes, together we are stronger.¡±

    The old man shook his head, rejecting Alam¡¯s argument. ¡°I do not see why we cannot stand together as equals. I know you are a powerful leader, but we can find common ground that respects our independence.¡±

    Alam¡¯s brow furrowed as he processed this. ¡°Please, come inside. It¡¯s cold out here.¡± He gestured toward a nearby tent, where a teapot awaited them.

    The old man followed, and once inside, the warmth enveloped them. He settled at the table, clearly more at ease now that they were shielded from the elements.

    After taking a sip of tea, Alam continued, ¡°We haven¡¯t properly introduced ourselves. I¡¯m Alam. I was a squad leader in the Wanderer Group and led campaigns in Europe before forming the True Horde Confederation.¡±

    The elder sipped his tea, a flicker of acknowledgment crossing his face. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Alam. I have heard of your campaigns. My name is not important, but I am the leader of the White Lotus Society.¡±

    ¡°No, it is important,¡± Alam insisted, leaning forward. ¡°You know the saying: a name shows character, right?¡±

    The old man smiled slightly, a hint of amusement breaking through his stoicism. ¡°Very well then. My name is Tao Zhuang. Now, may I ask you a question?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Alam replied, intrigued.

    ¡°What is the purpose of the True Horde Confederation? Why have you united these factions? What is your end goal in China?¡±

    Alam chuckled, a hint of mischief in his voice. ¡°Well, after we repel the Red Nation, I plan to reduce military campaigns and focus on stabilizing the region. I¡¯ve seen how empires fall apart after their leaders die¡ªlook at Alexander and Genghis Khan. Their generals killed each other after they were gone. I don¡¯t want that.¡±

    Tao nodded, understanding the wisdom behind Alam¡¯s words. He recognized the futility of conquest and the chaos that often followed a leader''s demise.

    ¡°Now, can I ask you a question?¡± Alam inquired, eager to understand more.

    ¡°Please do,¡± Tao replied, his demeanor calm and respectful.

    ¡°I¡¯m aware your faction is small and has meager soldiers. How have you survived this long?¡±

    Tao smiled, a glimmer of pride in his eyes. ¡°We may seem vulnerable, but we¡¯ve been crafty and resourceful. We¡¯ve hidden our true strength and used our knowledge of the terrain to our advantage. We fight with cunning, not brute force.¡±

    ¡°Classic strategy,¡± Alam remarked. ¡°What sets you apart from other factions?¡±

    ¡°We are driven by philosophical and spiritual goals,¡± Tao explained, his tone earnest. ¡°We¡¯re not motivated by greed but by a genuine desire to preserve our heritage. We cherish tradition and honor our ancestors. We care for our people and our land.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± Alam said, leaning back. ¡°If you join my confederation, you¡¯ll retain some autonomy. We respect your culture and religion, but we will require some tribute.¡±

    Tao shook his head firmly. ¡°I appreciate the offer, but the White Lotus Society cannot join your confederation. We value our independence and will not surrender it, no matter how reasonable your proposal seems.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Alam pressed, frustration creeping into his voice. ¡°Our tribute system is fairer than war.¡±

    Tao sighed, a flicker of irritation crossing his face beneath his beard. ¡°Do you honestly believe we would abandon our beliefs for a fair tribute system? We desire autonomy, not subjugation. We will not sell our souls.¡±

    Alam¡¯s brow furrowed in thought. ¡°What if I made your territory a cultural heritage site? You would become a symbol of the Confederacy¡¯s spiritual legacy.¡±

    Tao raised an eyebrow, the surprise evident in his eyes. ¡°You would grant us that status? What would be the conditions? What would that mean for our autonomy?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but the tribute system would still be in place. I can¡¯t have other factions envying your special status. You must understand my position.¡±

    Tao nodded slowly, contemplating Alam¡¯s words. ¡°Very well. We accept your offer for cultural heritage status, recognizing us as a symbol of the Confederacy''s spiritual legacy. We will continue to pay tribute, understanding the need for fairness.¡±

    Alam clapped his hands, satisfaction filling him. ¡°So, are you ready to join the True Horde?¡±

    Tao nodded, a sense of resolution settling over him. ¡°Yes, I am ready to join the True Horde. My faction and I will unite under this confederation, committed to preserving our heritage and beliefs while fulfilling our responsibilities.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Alam raised his cup in a toast before finishing his tea. ¡°Before you leave, I want your insight on something.¡±

    Tao followed Alam deeper into the tent, curiosity piqued. They reached the terracotta complex, the statues looming like silent sentinels. ¡°What do you think about these statues?¡± Alam asked. ¡°Do you believe that sometimes doing something extravagant is necessary? They can¡¯t guard the emperor in the afterlife, can they?¡±

    Tao regarded the statues with a mix of awe and admiration. ¡°They may be extravagant, but they symbolize the power of the Qin dynasty¡ªa lasting legacy. Their presence is a testament to ambition and might, even if impractical.¡±

    ¡°... So?¡± Alam urged, his interest piqued.

    ¡°What is the purpose of your visit here?¡± Tao asked, confusion flickering across his features.

    ¡°Sorry for my cryptic question,¡± Alam said, chuckling slightly. ¡°I mean, is it okay to do something extravagant sometimes?¡±

    Tao considered the question carefully. ¡°Extravagance can have positive and negative implications. It can showcase power, but it can also lead to excess. It depends on the context.¡±

    ¡°Do you think this terracotta is acceptable?¡± Alam pressed.

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Tao replied. ¡°They reflect the grandeur of the Qin dynasty. They remind us of the empire''s legacy.¡±

    ¡°Here¡¯s a hard question,¡± Alam continued. ¡°If I were to build a monument after this war, would that be acceptable?¡±

    Tao took a moment, then nodded slowly. ¡°Under certain circumstances, building a monument is acceptable. It can symbolize the accomplishments of a campaign. But consideration must be given to the costs and resources involved.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Alam agreed. ¡°It would be strange to build a monument while my people are starving.¡±

    Tao nodded in acknowledgment, understanding the importance of ethics and social responsibility in leadership.

    ¡°Do you have anything else to say, Tao?¡± Alam asked.

    Tao shook his head, his expression thoughtful yet reserved. ¡°I have said all I need to.¡±

    ¡°Very well,¡± Alam said, a hint of a smile on his face. ¡°We may meet again. Until then, farewell.¡±

    ¡°Farewell, Alam,¡± Tao replied, a soft smile gracing his lips. ¡°It has been a pleasure speaking with you. I wish you success in your conquests and leadership.¡±

    alam slighty smile and bow to tao before leaving ,  As he stepped away, Alam felt the weight of his decisions, but also the hope for a brighter future. The journey was far from over,

 Chapter 72 Red lotus

    So, the White Lotus joined up in late January 2404. Tao Zhuang and his crew brought a weird mix of ancient rituals and solid strategy to the table. They weren''t a huge army, but they had serious influence. Think scholar-farmers, artisan-techies¡ªkeepers of old traditions and lost tech.

    They knew how to make the messed-up land productive again, fix broken stuff, and even brought a bit of chill to the other, more trigger-happy factions. They were cool with Alam calling the shots militarily, but kept their own internal affairs and temples off-limits. It was a good balance, and it definitely made the Confederacy a bigger player in Central East Asia.

    But new territory meant new problems. China was already full of ghost cities before the wars, thanks to crazy urbanization and economic shifts. Now? Even worse. Alam, looking over one crumbling city, just shrugged. ¡°I see¡­ well. Let¡¯s just dismantle those. Use the materials for bunkers or something.¡±

    Digging deeper into the region turned up some interesting finds. One group had turned an old metro tunnel into a thriving city, abandoned Line 10 into a thriving subterranean community. Hydroponic farms, lit by repurposed streetlights, lined the tunnel walls, while a complex network of air scrubbers and water filtration systems maintained a breathable atmosphere.

    Another had somehow rigged up anti-gravity¡ªprobably salvaged pre-war tech¡ªto build a crazy amusement park inside a ruined mansion. It was a reminder that even in the worst times, people could find ways to adapt and even thrive.

    Of course, there were still threats. The Remnant Xian Empire and the mysterious Flying Dragon were still out there.

    One day, Alam visited Light in Tibet, eager to catch up. ¡°Hey, I heard you got a new girlfriend,¡± he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

    Light¡¯s mood brightened at the mention of her name. ¡°Yeah... I do,¡± he admitted, a hint of blush creeping onto his cheeks.

    ¡°Mei seems like a good girl. I suggest you marry her instead of just playing around,¡± Alam teased. ¡°But if you really like her... you should probably buy her a nice yak. They¡¯re very romantic.¡±¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re right,¡± Light replied, a mischief lighting up his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m actually planning to propose soon. We¡¯re in a good place.¡±

    Alam grinned. ¡°That¡¯s great! Speaking of angels, I¡¯ve got a new campaign in the mountains. The enemy has been holed up there for a year, defending their territory.¡±

    Light raised an eyebrow. ¡°A mountain fortress, huh? Sounds like a tough battle. You need more resources, right?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Alam said, nodding. ¡°I have fresh units and resources. I¡¯m proposing a new grenadier unit to counter the enemy.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Light replied, his interest piqued. ¡°But you need to ensure you have enough resources and support for them. Forcing them to be a grenadier unit isn¡¯t enough; they need training to withstand the harsh mountain conditions.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Alam acknowledged. ¡°I¡¯ll pick 1,000 of the best soldiers for this new unit. Any suggestions?¡±

    ¡°Definitely start with basic combat training,¡± Light advised. ¡°Then teach them how to use the terrain to their advantage. They need to know how to navigate the mountains and find enemy hideouts.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Alam said, considering the tactical implications. ¡°How do I deal with brutal close-quarters combat while scaling the mountain?¡±

    ¡°Setting traps like defensive barriers could limit enemy movement,¡± Light suggested thoughtfully. ¡°But you also need to be aware of the terrain. It¡¯ll be hard for your unit to maneuver if they don¡¯t have enough training.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Alam agreed. ¡°I just want something effective to draw them out of their defenses.¡±

    Light smirked. ¡°Instead of forcing them out, why not exploit their weaknesses? If they¡¯ve been surviving for years, they must have supplies. Draining their resources could force them to leave their stronghold.¡±

    ¡°Ah! I have an idea,¡± Alam said, excitement sparking in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll set up a fake supply base with trackers on the goods. That should make my hunting easier.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a solid plan,¡± Light affirmed. ¡°Control their supplies, and they¡¯ll be forced to leave their positions. Once they do, you can strike hard.¡±

    ¡°Now, about their tunnels in the mountains,¡± Alam said, a mischievous glint in his eye. ¡°Should I bury them alive or burn them alive?¡±

    Light¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°That¡¯s a difficult problem. You can¡¯t use heavy artillery in the tunnels. I suggest small units.¡±

    ¡°If they¡¯re mostly soldiers, you¡¯ll need a larger number of capable fighters for close-quarters combat,¡± Light advised. ¡°Ensure your soldiers have the upper hand in numbers.¡±

    ¡°Got it. Flamethrower units can clear their pillboxes and mountain homes,¡± Alam declared.

    "Flamethrowers?" Light said, a grim smile spreading across his face. "Excellent. The thin mountain air will only amplify the effect, and the narrow tunnels will channel the flames, making escape nearly impossible. Plus, the uneven footing will make it difficult for them to aim their return fire."

    ¡°Excellent!¡± Alam exclaimed. ¡°So after I set up the decoy supply base, the next phase is to secure the highest peak of the mountains and deal with the lower sides later. Does that sound good?¡±

    Light smirked, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. ¡°Absolutely! Once you control the highest peak, you¡¯ll have a strategic advantage over the area below. Plus, with trackers set up, you¡¯ll know if they try to reclaim it.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Alam said, his confidence building. ¡°And I¡¯ll assign smaller units to secure key mountain positions to prevent flanking.¡±

    Light nodded, impressed. ¡°Smart thinking. If your main force is vulnerable, it could lead to an ambush. Smaller units can keep an eye out for potential threats.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Alam replied, feeling a weight lift as he strategized with Light. ¡°How do you cope with the mental burden? I¡¯ve noticed I¡¯ve become a bit too sarcastic since this war dragged on. I fear becoming evil again.¡±

    Light¡¯s demeanor shifted, seriousness overtaking his playful nature. ¡°I¡¯ve become quite cold after this war. Trust is hard to come by, but that coldness can be useful in my role.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, we become not quite human, huh?¡± Alam said, sharing in Light¡¯s solemnity.

    ¡°True,¡± Light replied, a small chuckle escaping him. ¡°But if being cold helps protect others, then it¡¯s worth it, right?¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Yeah, so... it can¡¯t be helped?¡± Alam mused, glancing at Light. ¡°Do all great generals and leaders cope in the same way?¡±

    Light paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. ¡°Hmm... I¡¯m not sure. Each great leader probably has their own method for handling their mental state. Some might resort to drink, others might find comfort in their partners, and some? They just shut off their emotions completely. Honestly, I¡¯m curious about it myself.¡±

    Alam chuckled lightly. ¡°Really? Well, I suppose a woman¡¯s touch can help¡ªat least to some degree.¡±

    Light¡¯s smile returned, brightening his demeanor. ¡°Yeah, a woman¡¯s touch is quite effective.¡± He leaned in slightly, his gaze warm. ¡°You know, women are tender and kind... their touch can be incredibly comforting.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Alam replied, a teasing smile creeping across his face. ¡°Can I ask you a hard question?¡±

    Light smirked, intrigued. ¡°Sure, what is it?¡±

    ¡°Have you committed any war crimes in your past?¡±

    Light¡¯s eyes widened, his jovial demeanor faltering. He seemed to retreat into thought, the weight of Alam¡¯s question pressing heavily on him. ¡°O-oh...¡± he stammered, lost in memories. ¡°Well... hnm.¡±

    After a moment of silence, Light snapped back to the present, his eyes turning cold. ¡°Yes... I did. Quite a lot, actually.¡±

    Alam nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. ¡°I see. That explains a lot about your methods and your unorthodox strategies.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Light admitted, his voice heavy with regret. ¡°I know I¡¯m not exactly a good man. I have many sins in my past. If there are gods out there who want to punish me, then that¡¯s fine. I¡¯m not trying to deny my sins; I just want to atone for them.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry; we¡¯re all flawed,¡± Alam said, trying to ease the tension.

    Light sighed, glancing away, his fist clenching unconsciously. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± He looked back at Alam, sadness in his eyes. ¡°But still... if you don¡¯t mind, please don¡¯t tell anyone about my war crimes.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. But... what exactly did you do?¡± Alam pressed gently.

    Light paused, his expression somber. ¡°I prefer not to answer that question,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Just believe that I regret it. I want to live a new life, as a new person.¡±

    ¡°I see. I have my own regrets too,¡± Alam said, his voice thoughtful. ¡°But perhaps those mistakes make us wiser.¡±

    Light nodded softly, the weight of their shared burdens hanging in the air. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s true. What kind of mistakes do you regret?¡±

    Alam answer nonchalantly. ¡°Slavery. Assault against minorities. Stealing. Plundering and razing settlements.¡±

    Light couldn¡¯t help but scoff lightly, a nervous laugh escaping him. ¡°A lot of bad deeds, huh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alam admitted. ¡°It¡¯s hard to talk about.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Light said, sensing the heaviness of the topic. ¡°It¡¯s a dilemma we need to face in battle.¡±

    Light chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°Yeah, it is. Because we¡¯re human at the end of the day.¡±

    Suddenly, Light¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°You know, I kind of regret leaving my wife,¡± he said, looking down at his clenched fist. ¡°She said she loved me and wanted me to come home, but... I can¡¯t even look her in the eyes anymore.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re married?¡± Alam asked, surprised.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Light replied, his voice low. ¡°That¡¯s why it¡¯s hard for me to accept myself. I feel like I don¡¯t deserve to be called human with this kind of sin.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a child? Is your wife still around?¡± Alam probed gently.

    Light paused, the memories flooding back. ¡°I have a daughter. She was just four years old back then.¡± He looked down, the weight of his past heavy on his heart. ¡°And my wife is still alive. She forgives me... still wants me to come back. But... I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Alam said, sympathy in his voice. ¡°The problem lies within you. Your wife has forgiven you, but you haven¡¯t forgiven yourself.¡±

    Light nodded, the truth of Alam¡¯s words sinking in. ¡°Yeah, I know... I really do.¡±

    Alam leaned forward, sensing Light¡¯s internal struggle. ¡°So, what about you? Is there anyone in your life? A woman or a man?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, kinda,¡± Alam replied, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

    Light¡¯s curiosity piqued. ¡°Oh, I see. Can I ask you something?¡±

    ¡°Sure, what is it?¡± Alam said, intrigued.

    Light¡¯s eyes sparkled with mischief. ¡°Do you have someone you care very much for? Someone other than your close family?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I do,¡± Alam said with a playful wink. ¡°It¡¯s myself.¡±

    Light chuckled, surprised. ¡°Well, that¡¯s funny. I¡¯m a little surprised because you seem like someone who cares about your close relatives.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Alam said, his tone serious. ¡°I don¡¯t limit the term family to just blood relations. I see all humans as family.¡±

    Light¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief. ¡°Really? Do you mean it? You actually feel that way?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Alam replied, his voice steady. ¡°I feel a connection with most people I meet, even strangers. It¡¯s something profound.¡±

    Light smiled, admiration shining in his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s a wonderful way to see the world. Many think they understand others until problems arise, but you grasp their emotions without even talking to them. How do you do that?¡±

    ¡°There are two answers to that: a wholesome way and a traumatic way,¡± Alam said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

    Light¡¯s curiosity was piqued, but he felt a bit nervous. ¡°A wholesome way and a traumatic way? It¡¯s not that I¡¯m trying to pry, but is it okay if I ask about the traumatic part?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s just say... I tortured people a lot in my past,¡± Alam replied casually, as if discussing the weather.

    Light flinched, his eyes widening in shock. ¡°You... tortured people?¡±

    He felt a jolt of unease, but the desire to understand pushed him forward. ¡°Why? Why did you do that?¡±

    ¡°I did it for fun,¡± Alam said with a wry smile. ¡°I had a weird sense of enjoyment watching people in pain. Some might call it sadistic.¡±

    Light felt a shiver run down his spine, a mix of disbelief and discomfort. ¡°That¡¯s... unsettling.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alam said, a shadow crossing his expression. ¡°But I have my reasons for being that way.¡±

    ¡°Do you still have that... weird sense?¡± Light asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

    ¡°Sometimes,¡± Alam replied with a wink, a playful glint in his eye. ¡°I know normal people might run away after hearing that.¡±

    Light chuckled nervously, leaning closer. ¡°You¡¯re a scary person, Alam. But I¡¯m not going to run away. I still have a question.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Alam asked, intrigued.

    Light paused, gathering his thoughts. ¡°How are you now? Are you... you know... less dangerous?¡±

    ¡°Shhh... let me answer in a wholesome way,¡± Alam said, his expression turning serious. ¡°I¡¯ve gained another trait beside my sadism: intuition. I learn things quickly, and my understanding of morality and compassion has slowly overcome my darker impulses.¡±

    Light smiled, impressed. ¡°That¡¯s really great. I¡¯m proud of you, dude. You¡¯re an interesting person. I appreciate your honesty.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I learned it the hard way,¡± Alam said, his voice softening. ¡°After facing near-death situations, I realized life is fragile and short. Pain woke me up.¡±

    Light regarded him with newfound respect. ¡°Your life almost ended just like that? I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay now. That must have been scary.¡±

    ¡°More than you can imagine,¡± Alam said, his voice steady. ¡°That¡¯s why I prefer leading my men from the front. In this tech age, hiding in a bunker won¡¯t save me when my time comes.¡±

    Light nodded, admiration flickering in his eyes. ¡°Damn... yeah, life is too short to be spent hiding from it.¡± He smiled genuinely, appreciating Alam¡¯s resolve.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already opened my cards,¡± Alam continued, a playful glint in his eye. ¡°So, what about your war crimes? I know this conversation must be weird for normal people, but hey, it¡¯s just the two of us.¡±

    Light¡¯s expression shifted as he recalled the shadows of his past. ¡°Hahaha... yeah, it¡¯s weird. If you want to know... it¡¯s killing innocent people and plundering.¡±

    Alam nodded, his tone serious. ¡°I see. I think crossfire and plunder can¡¯t be avoided in large-scale operations.¡±

    Light¡¯s relief was palpable at the mention of those two, but his smile faded at the thought of innocent lives lost. He leaned forward, his voice low. ¡°Can I ask you a question?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Alam replied, intrigued.

    ¡°Promise you won¡¯t judge me?¡± Light¡¯s eyes were earnest.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Alam said, curiosity piqued.

    Light took a deep breath, preparing to unveil his vulnerability. ¡°Do you believe in God?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Alam answered, not missing a beat.

    Light continued, ¡°Do you believe in karma? Or fate?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alam replied.

    Light smiled, looking hopeful. ¡°Do you think I deserve to be happy after what I¡¯ve done?¡±

    ¡°If you counterbalance your sins, then yes,¡± Alam said, his gaze steady.

    Light¡¯s smile broadened. ¡°Counterbalance? What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Alam explained, ¡°if you stole 100 coins, you give back 100 or more. If they¡¯re dead, you donate the equivalent. Something like that.¡±

    Light pondered this, the wheels turning in his mind. ¡°So, I just haven¡¯t done enough to counterbalance my sins?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Alam confirmed. ¡°But it¡¯s tricky when life is at stake. After all, we¡¯re talking about killing someone¡ªlife is priceless. The way to counterbalance is by protecting other lives.¡±

    Light¡¯s eyes lit up with understanding. ¡°Oh, I see... If I protect more lives than I take, then that counts as a counterbalance, right?¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Alam said, pleased. ¡°And pray that they forgive us.¡±

    Light hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his face. ¡°You sound a bit religious.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, kinda. It¡¯s hard not to be in high-stakes situations,¡± Alam said with a shrug.

    ¡°True,¡± Light agreed, his expression reflecting the weight of their conversation. ¡°It makes life a little easier, huh?¡± His smile faltered, sadness creeping in. ¡°But we talk about protecting lives to counterbalance our sins... and if you think about it¡­¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡± Alam asked, sensing the shift in Light¡¯s mood.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know... It just feels like protecting lives isn¡¯t enough to counterbalance our sins,¡± Light said, shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s not just about the numbers, right? I could kill thousands and protect millions, and it still wouldn¡¯t feel like balance. It seems like a loophole.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I know what you mean,¡± Alam said, his expression thoughtful. ¡°But we humans just need to try. What we get after all of this is something we can¡¯t control. When we plan a strategic move, we only control the route and timing. After that, we just wait and pray.¡±

    Light nodded slowly, feeling the weight of their shared dilemmas. ¡°Yeah, I guess so.¡±

    Alam studied him, his voice turning serious. ¡°So, let me ask you again: are you afraid of death?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Light said, surprised by his own response.

    Alam raised an eyebrow. ¡°Really? You¡¯re not afraid to die?¡±

    ¡°Not anymore,¡± Light admitted, a newfound courage swelling within him. ¡°I¡¯ve accepted that it could happen at any moment.¡±

    ¡°You know,¡± Alam said, a hint of admiration in his voice, ¡°that makes you exceptional.¡±

    Light¡¯s surprise was evident. ¡°Really? You think so?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alam replied, a small smile playing on his lips. ¡°It¡¯s normal to fear the unknown. But not fearing death makes you stronger than most.¡±

    Light¡¯s smile returned, though it was tinged with sadness. ¡°I appreciate that, but it¡¯s also a heavy burden to carry.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Alam said, understanding the complexity of their conversation. ¡°But you know, if I were to die, I¡¯d want to be with my close family.¡±

    Light¡¯s expression shifted, curiosity piqued. ¡°Wait, you have a family?¡±

    ¡°Kind of,¡± Alam replied, glancing away. ¡°I¡¯m not particularly close with my relatives, but usually, the family handles the body after death.¡±

    Light¡¯s concern deepened. ¡°I see... You should talk to them. It¡¯s never too late.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry; it¡¯s not that they¡¯re bad. I just have a different mindset.¡± Alam shrugged, dismissing the notion.

    ¡°Different mindset?¡± Light raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°Care to elaborate?¡±

    ¡°Since I was a kid, I¡¯ve been asking my parents and teachers about war. I was six,¡± Alam said,

    Light laughed, the sound genuine. ¡°Your parents must have been shocked by that! You were a special child, huh?¡±

    ¡°Ha! I guess I was,¡± Alam replied, amusement lighting up his face.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Light said, his expression softening. ¡°You¡¯re definitely a special person. I hope I can be that kind of person someday.¡±

    Alam smiled, feeling the warmth of camaraderie. ¡°You will, Light. Just keep that spirit alive.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s grab something to eat,¡± Alam suggested, breaking the weight of their conversation.

    ¡°Great idea!¡± Light exclaimed, jumping to his feet. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know... what do Tibetans eat?¡± Alam asked, his curiosity piqued.

    Light grinned. ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got yak cheese, some kind of meat, and noodles. Oh, and there¡¯s this drink called chhaang. It¡¯s like wine but made from barley.¡±

    ¡°Good enough for me!¡± Alam said, feeling lighter already.

 Chapter 73 Rebel and The Double Game

    meanwhile In the dimly lit war room of the Red Nation, tension hung in the air like a thick fog. The flickering screen illuminated a list of potential traitors, and Kassandra leaned over the table, her finger tracing the names with a mix of focus and flair.

    ¡°Alright, team! Classic dilemma time: strike team, strato cannon, or maybe just a little intel double-checking? You know, the usual ¡®let¡¯s not blow everything up just yet¡¯ approach,¡± she said, a hint of mischief in her tone.

    Zion, scanned the list with a serious expression. Each name represented a potential headache, and he knew that one wrong move could escalate a mere rebellion into a full-blown civil war.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves,¡± he replied, his voice steady. ¡°We need to verify this intel before we unleash any firepower. A strike team or the strato cannon could tip our hand too soon, and we don¡¯t want to give them a reason to rebel¡ªyet.¡±

    Kassandra nodded, her eyes glinting with a mix of excitement and pragmatism. ¡°Good call. But do we really need to wait for the purge before we start annexing Blood Khaganate territory? I mean, who doesn¡¯t love a good land grab?¡±

    Zion rubbed his chin thoughtfully, weighing her words. ¡°Yes, let¡¯s finish the purge first. It¡¯ll clear out the disloyalists and make our annexation smoother. We don¡¯t want to rush into things and end up with a mess on our hands.¡±

    Kassandra smirked, appreciating his cautious approach. ¡°Fair enough. Just remember, while we¡¯re playing it safe, the clock is ticking. Opportunities don¡¯t wait for anyone.¡±

    Zion met her gaze, a flicker of determination in his eyes. ¡°Then let¡¯s make sure we¡¯re ready to act when the time comes. We¡¯ll keep our eyes open and our options flexible.¡±

    A few days later, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. A red officer burst into the war room,

    ¡°Sir! You need to see this!¡± The screen flickered to life, revealing a local news segment from China.

    The host, Veronica, announced, ¡°Welcome back to Witty World News! Tonight, we¡¯re diving into the heart of China, where the tea is hot and the warlords are hotter! Alam, the Wanderer, has gathered China¡¯s finest warlords like Pok¨¦mon¡ªgotta catch ''em all!¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression darkened as he watched the unfolding situation. ¡°This is troubling. The Warlords are as unpredictable as a toddler with a sugar rush. One moment they¡¯re building alliances, and the next, they¡¯re throwing tantrums. If they unite under Alam, we¡¯re in for a world of hurt.¡±

    Kassandra folded her arms, a smirk forming. ¡°Looks like Alam played his cards right. A truce with us, and now he¡¯s got the warlords eating out of his hand.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Zion admitted, ¡°but this new alliance is a real threat to the free world. We need to stay ahead of it.¡±

    Weaver, always practical, suggested, ¡°Let¡¯s pick them off one by one before they unite. Classic assassination. Who¡¯s in?¡±

    Juggernaut, eager for action, raised his hand. ¡°Count me in! I¡¯ll handle those warlords. We coordinate, we strike, and they won¡¯t see it coming.¡±

    Zion considered this. ¡°Taking them all out at once would be ideal, but they¡¯re scattered. Coordinating simultaneous attacks will be tough.¡±

    Weaver nodded, thinking quickly. ¡°They have regular meeting spots. If we can find those, we can take them out one after another without overextending ourselves.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± Zion agreed. ¡°Fast, precise strikes. We could use targeted airstrikes and Special Ops. Maximum impact, minimal collateral damage.¡±

    Kassandra raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on her face. ¡°But attacking True Horde territory breaks our truce with Alam. Just saying.¡±

    Zion chuckled. ¡°True, but Alam made it clear he¡¯d understand if we dealt with the horde. As long as we don¡¯t target him directly, we should be fine.¡±

    Weaver nodded. ¡°First, we secure China. The warlords are the biggest obstacle. As for Alam, I¡¯m sure we can negotiate. He¡¯s against the Red Nation; we just need to find common ground.¡±

    Zion felt a glimmer of hope. ¡°Exactly! With Alam¡¯s help, we can dismantle the True Horde¡¯s presence in China.¡±

    Kassandra leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. ¡°And how do you plan to turn an enemy into an ally?¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression became determined. ¡°I¡¯ll use my diplomatic charm on Alam. We¡¯ll emphasize the shared threat of the Red Nation and explore potential collaboration.¡±

    ¡°Good luck with that,¡± Kassandra said, feigning seriousness. ¡°Want to call him now?¡±

    Zion nodded confidently. ¡°Yes, let¡¯s get him on the line.¡±

    Moments later, Alam¡¯s face appeared on the screen, a wide grin on his face. ¡°Well, well, well¡­ this is unexpected. Calling to surrender?¡±

    Zion took a breath. ¡°No, Alam. I¡¯m not calling to surrender. Your gathering of warlords is a serious concern. I¡¯d like to discuss it and find a way forward that works for both of us.¡±

    Alam leaned back, crossing his arms. ¡°Your massive build-up in Asia is concerning everyone. We¡¯re on the verge of World War Four!¡±

    Zion remained calm. ¡°I understand the gravity of the situation. But our deployment is for defensive purposes. I have no intention of starting a global war.¡±

    ¡°hah!, Good. I¡¯m not a fan of mass casualties either. So¡­ what do you want?¡± Alam leaned back, arms still crossed, looking curious.

    Zion smiled slightly. ¡°I want to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. I know where this is heading. I propose an alternative.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow. ¡°Funny¡­ last month you were trying to kill me. Now it¡¯s all peace and love?¡±

    Zion chuckled. ¡°We¡¯re both leaders. We have responsibilities. We¡¯ve had our disagreements, but I¡¯m willing to put them aside for the greater good.¡±

    ¡°Alright¡­ I¡¯m listening.¡± Alam leaned forward, intrigued.

    Zion explained his plan. ¡°The warlords in your territory are a threat to both of us. We can work together to eliminate them. We can also coordinate to weaken the Red Nation¡¯s influence in Asia by targeting their infrastructure and military.¡±

    Alam shook his head, smirking. ¡°No. They¡¯re my friends now. I know your game¡ªyou¡¯re trying to create distrust among my allies.¡±

    Zion nodded. ¡°Your allies are our shared enemies. Taking them out weakens the Red Nation. But your alliance with them is temporary¡ªjust a way to balance our strength. Once we¡¯re gone, they¡¯ll turn on you.¡±

    Alam laughed. ¡°You¡¯re wrong. My True Horde is for everyone. Even after this war.¡±

    Zion smiled. ¡°You might believe that, but the True Horde is a loose group of warlords. It¡¯s fragile and will fall apart once the Red Nation is gone. You¡¯re more of a tyrant holding onto power than a leader uniting them for the long term.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Alam said dryly. ¡°But I¡¯m holding my own. I have China, and you don¡¯t.¡±

    Zion chuckled. ¡°True. You have the territory. But we have superior military strength and strategy. If it comes to war, we¡¯ll win. It¡¯s best to avoid unnecessary fighting. We¡¯re willing to help you eliminate the Red Nation in Asia¡ªthat¡¯s as far as we¡¯ll go.¡±

    Alam sniffed. ¡°Just threats? I expected more. We¡¯re friends, remember?¡± He winked.

    Zion raised an eyebrow. ¡°We were friends until you allied with the warlords and went against the free world.¡±Stolen novel; please report.

    Alam¡¯s expression changed, a hint of desperation showing. ¡°If I had your strato cannon and elite forces, I could make the True Horde a much stronger alliance.¡±

    Zion blinked, then nodded slowly. ¡°So, you¡¯re suggesting a truce where you downgrade your alliance to a defensive pact and we strengthen our trade? You want to use the strato cannon against the Red Nation and have our elite forces help you?¡±

    ¡°Exactly Red hair. Do you trust me with your toys?¡± Alam asked, eyes twinkling.

    Zion considered this. ¡°I think your offer is genuine. It¡¯s a mutually beneficial truce. A win-win. What do you think?¡±

    Alam frowned, rubbing his chin. ¡°This is weird. I¡¯d prefer you threw a tantrum instead of agreeing to my questionable proposal.¡±

    Zion shook his head, amused. ¡°Your proposal is unusual but practical. Your allies won¡¯t stay with you after the Red Nation is gone. My elite forces can help you then, and the strato cannon can eliminate the Red Nation in Asia. This keeps your empire safe and weakens our common enemy.¡±

    Alam¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Wait¡­ you mean the Red Nation is a threat to you too? You hate your own nation?¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°The Red Nation is a threat to both of us and the free world. They have a powerful military, a strong economy, and ambitions of expansion. They threaten peace and stability everywhere.¡±

    Alam tilted his head, confusion etched on his features. ¡°What chess trick is this? What¡¯s going on in your head? Why do you care more about those Warlords than your own army?¡±

    Zion chuckled again, enjoying Alam¡¯s bewilderment. ¡°I¡¯m trying to understand your motives and offer a practical solution. The Warlords are a threat to both of us, and this truce would benefit us both. The strato cannon can help us weaken the Red Nation''s military capabilities, making it easier for both of us to defeat them. Those Warlords will only ally with you temporarily; they¡¯ll turn against you once the Red Nation is out of the picture.¡±

    Alam rubbed his temples vigorously. ¡°WHAT?! You¡¯re the leader of the Red Nation! Why are you even trying to fight them?¡±

    Zion sighed, momentarily taken aback by Alam¡¯s confusion. ¡°I¡¯m part of the Red Nation, yes, but I also represent the free world. I¡¯m responsible for protecting my country and its people, even against a formidable adversary. It¡¯s worth fighting for the freedom and security of the free world.¡±

    ¡°So wait¡­ let me clarify. You¡¯re part of the Red Nation, but you¡¯ve formed your own faction within it? And that existing nation is your enemy? Is that what you¡¯re trying to say?¡±

    Zion nodded, resolute. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s correct. I¡¯m part of the Red Nation, but I¡¯ve formed my own faction within it. The Red Nation¡¯s expansionist goals clash with my ideals, making it an enemy in many ways.¡±

    ¡°Why take a drastic measure like¡­ destroying your own nation?¡± Alam leaned forward, skepticism etched on his face.

    Zion¡¯s expression shifted, turning serious as he pondered the question. ¡°The Red Nation isn¡¯t my nation anymore, at least not in any meaningful sense. It¡¯s a dictatorship¡ªcorrupt and misguided for far too long. I believe that with the right leadership, it could be powerful and prosperous. But the current leader is steering it straight toward destruction.¡±

    Alam nodded slowly, processing. ¡°So you¡¯ve formed a rebellion in your own court?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Zion confirmed, his tone steady. ¡°My goal is to overthrow the current leader and free the people from his tyranny.¡±

    ¡°And who is this current leader?¡±

    Zion hesitated, recalling the name. ¡°His name is Jin-Sung, known as the Red Dragon.¡±

    Alam chuckled, the sound dripping with disbelief. ¡°Funny¡­ why have I never heard that name before?¡±

    ¡°Jin-Sung is a secretive figure,¡± Zion explained. ¡°He prefers to lurk in the shadows, wielding influence without the public eye on him. Many outside the inner circle don¡¯t know him.¡±

    Alam squinted, a glimmer of suspicion in his eyes. ¡°Why not just kill him like you did General Wu?¡±

    Zion paused, weighing his words carefully. ¡°Killing Jin-Sung wouldn¡¯t solve the problem. He¡¯s just a pawn for the Red Nation¡¯s elite¡ªa figurehead they use to maintain control. If we want to truly dismantle the Red Nation, we need to target its ruling class.¡±

    Alam fell silent for a moment, contemplating. ¡°I see¡­ You¡¯re putting me in a very weird situation. But what happens after Jin-Sung and the elites are gone?¡±

    Zion leaned in, a confident grin spreading across his face. ¡°Once the ruling elite is gone, the Red Nation will crumble. The military will be in chaos, and the people will rise up in rebellion. This power vacuum will give us an opportunity to act, allowing the free world to step in and take control.¡±

    ¡°You kind of remind me of Caesar,¡± Alam mused. ¡°While he crossed the Alps to the Gauls, you¡¯re crossing the Bering Strait.¡±

    Zion chuckled, appreciating the comparison. ¡°That¡¯s an interesting analogy. Caesar conquered the Gauls with military brilliance, and I intend to do the same with the Red Nation. Though my path might not be as straightforward.¡±

    ¡°What happens if the Red Nation is truly yours?¡± Alam pressed.

    Zion paused, considering the weight of the question. ¡°If I take control, I¡¯ll reform it into a nation that reflects my values. I¡¯ll emphasize freedom, democracy, and human rights for all citizens. My focus will be on economic development and social progress, striving to create a vibrant, prosperous nation. I won¡¯t be a tyrant like Jin-Sung; I¡¯ll be accountable to the people.¡±

    Alam burst into laughter, a mirthful cacophony that echoed through the room. ¡°Hahaha! What a comedic line! How can the world trust a person like you to do that?¡±

    Zion smirked, enjoying Alam¡¯s reaction. ¡°I sense you don¡¯t trust me, Alam. That¡¯s fair; I¡¯ve given you reasons to be skeptical. But let me ask you this: do you trust the Red Nation as it stands? If they conquer Asia, do you really think they¡¯ll spare you and your True Horde?¡±

    Alam waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Now, now¡­ you¡¯re the one commanding the army! If they come, they¡¯ll kill me on your watch.¡±

    Zion raised an eyebrow, surprised by Alam¡¯s logic. ¡°You make a valid point. I do lead the army, and I decide our next moves. If I send forces into your territory, there¡¯s a chance we could target you and the Warlords.¡±

    ¡°Listen,¡± Alam said, his voice low and serious. ¡°You¡¯re mad. When the Crescent Alliance arrives, regardless of whether your rebellion succeeds, many people will die.¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression darkened as he replied, ¡°You¡¯re right. We can try to limit casualties, but war is brutal. People will die. However, I believe the sacrifice will be worth it if it means ending the Red Nation¡¯s reign and liberating its people.¡±

    Alam sighed, resigned. ¡°Okay, in my strategic mind, the Red Army will weaken after you start your rebellion. So¡­ please, go ahead and rebel.¡±

    Zion nodded, recognizing Alam¡¯s reluctant support. ¡°Thank you, Alam. I know my rebellion will bring destruction and instability, but I believe the cost will be worth it. Your support could tip the scales in our favor.¡±

    ¡°DON¡¯T put my name in the history books!,¡± Alam warned, a mock-seriousness in his tone. ¡°I won¡¯t help you; I just admire your madness.¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression turned mischievous. ¡°I get the sense you want to keep your name out of this, so I won¡¯t mention you. But you¡¯re intelligent and strategic, and I believe you¡¯ll find ways to assist me, whether you admit it or not.¡±

    Alam crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. ¡°Just tell me¡ªwhat can I do? And after that, I hope you die in your rebellion.¡±

    Zion smiled, shaking his head. ¡°You can do nothing. This is a personal affair between me and the Red Nation. You¡¯re just a bystander with a stake in this conflict. I don¡¯t want you involved; that would complicate things and increase the risks.¡±

    ¡°So, I just sit here and do nothing?¡± Alam retorted, incredulous. ¡°Do you think I believe that? You must have a plan, like using me as a scapegoat, especially since you¡¯re letting me use your army.¡±

    Zion¡¯s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ¡°Oh, I do have a plan for you, Alam. But first, I need to know one thing: do you trust me?¡±

    ¡°Fifty-fifty,¡± Alam replied, a glint of mischief in his eye.

    Zion couldn¡¯t hide his surprise but remained composed. ¡°I understand your caution. In that case, let me share my plan so we can discuss it further.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­ speak.¡±

    A confident grin spread across Zion¡¯s face. ¡°My plan is to use you as a distraction. We¡¯ll make it appear that you and the True Horde are invading Central Asia, drawing some of the Red Nation¡¯s forces away from my rebellion. This will create an opening for me to strike from the other side, catching them off guard. What do you think?¡±

    Alam considered this, his expression thoughtful. ¡°And what happens after you take control of the Red Nation? Will we have peace?¡±

    Zion¡¯s demeanor turned serious as he answered. ¡°That¡¯s a good question, Alam. I¡¯m not sure what will happen after I take control. But I know that once the Red Nation is under my leadership, I¡¯ll be able to negotiate a diplomatic resolution to our conflict. I don¡¯t plan to fight you or your people unless we can come to an understanding.¡±

    Alam shook his head, skepticism lingering. ¡°This is why I never trust you. You¡¯ll always stab me in the back.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not my intention at all,¡± Zion replied sharply, meeting Alam¡¯s gaze with unwavering confidence. ¡°I¡¯ve given you my word that I won¡¯t betray you. I¡¯m willing to negotiate in good faith and preserve peace between our nations.¡±

    Alam sighed, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°Alright, do whatever you want. Good luck with your rebellion. I don¡¯t want your army or your strato cannon. Having them in my hands would destroy my reputation.¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression remained solemn. ¡°I understand your concerns, Alam. The Red Nation¡¯s army and strato cannon are threats to your reputation. I¡¯ll keep a close eye on them and won¡¯t act against your interests. Let¡¯s leave this matter here for now. I wish you luck in your defense of Central Asia. I¡¯ll proceed with my rebellion, and we¡¯ll see what happens next.¡±

    Alam chuckled, a hint of genuine camaraderie breaking through. ¡°I hope that one day, I can truly understand you. Farewell.¡±

    Zion nodded, a small smile on his face. ¡°Farewell for now, Alam. May we find a brighter future where we can truly understand one another.¡±

    The call ended. A long pause hung in the air before Kassandra nodded slowly. ¡°I see¡­ he didn¡¯t take the bait. But with the right framing, Alam can still be a scapegoat.¡±

    A mischievous smile spread across Zion¡¯s face. ¡°It seems that Alam is not as easy to manipulate as I thought. I will have to use more subtle means to involve him in my plans.¡±

    Weaver raised an eyebrow at Zion¡¯s smirk. ¡°Are you thinking what I think you¡¯re thinking? If Alam doesn¡¯t take the bait, you might be planning some kind of ruse to draw him in.¡±

    A playful grin spread across Zion¡¯s face. ¡°Don¡¯t act so shocked, Weaver! Yes, I am pondering some potential methods for involving Alam in my plans. It is clear that he is not easily deceived, but I am confident that I can find a way to bring him into my web of deception.¡±

    Weaver¡¯s grin matched Zion¡¯s. ¡°I knew it! I knew you had some kind of trick up your sleeve. But what kind of ruse do you plan on using? How are you going to fool Alam into playing right into your hands?¡±

    Zion¡¯s face took on a mischievous expression, as he responded with a tone that was both playful and self-assured. ¡°I¡¯m not going to divulge my exact plan, Weaver. That would spoil the surprise! However, rest assured that I have a few clever ideas in mind. I¡¯m sure that once I get the ball rolling, Alam will fall for my ruse like a fly into a spider¡¯s web.¡±

    Weaver grinned, enjoying the back-and-forth banter. ¡°Alright, you¡¯ve got me curious. The ball is already rolling, so I guess we¡¯ll have to wait and see how Alam reacts. I¡¯m sure your ruses will be brilliant! But, no doubt, Alam will have some countermoves that are just as cunning, if not more so. The real question is, which one of us is the better schemer?¡±

    A playful grin spread across Zion¡¯s face, as he continued to enjoy the banter. ¡°Ah, now we¡¯re finally getting to the crux of the matter! We have both demonstrated our skills in the art of strategy and manipulation. But once the dice have been thrown, only one of us can come out on top. It will be a battle of wits and a test of our strategic prowess. Let the best man win!¡±

 Chapter 74 Emperor of China

    Late January 2405. So, the usual chaos was brewing. A Wanderer officer strolled up to Alam, looking harried. ¡°Sir, we¡¯ve got a situation at the border. Red Army refugees¡­ and deserters. A real mixed bag.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s the deal? Are they trying to surrender or just passing through?¡±

    ¡°Looks like both,¡± the officer replied. ¡°Some want to join us, while others are just looking for a way out.¡±

    ¡°Classic Zion move,¡± Alam mused, recalling a similar tactic used against the Flying Dragon. He examined the monitor. A crowd huddled near the border, separated from True Horde territory by barbed wire, mines, and machine gun nests. ¡°Set up a camp,¡± he ordered. ¡°Double the security. Screen everyone.¡±

    A day later, Alam inspected the newly formed grenadier unit, led by Lieutenant Colonel Zao. ¡°I see¡­ Lieutenant Colonel Zao,¡± Alam remarked, surprised. ¡°Quite the promotion.¡±

    Zao saluted crisply. ¡°Sir! It¡¯s an honor to command these soldiers.¡±

    ¡°I know we stood this unit up quickly,¡± Alam acknowledged. ¡°Team cohesion might be an issue.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll make it work, sir,¡± Zao affirmed.

    Later, in a nearby tent, Alam, Zao, and other officers studied a map of the Minshan Mountains. ¡°Here¡¯s the plan,¡± Alam began, pointing. ¡°Three sections. First takes the peak, second holds it, third covers the flanks.¡±

    Zao nodded. The plan was solid.

    ¡°Any questions?¡± Alam asked.

    The officers shook their heads.

    ¡°Good. This won¡¯t be easy,¡± Alam said seriously. ¡°The enemy¡¯s dug in deep. This mission is crucial.¡±

    As Zao¡¯s forces advanced, Alam received new intel. Red Nation spies had infiltrated the Xian remnants, attempting to destabilize the region and prolong the conflict. Their orders were clear, turning the Minshan Mountains into a Alam ¡°Afghanistan.¡± The goal was to bog down the True Horde, bleed their resources, and prevent them from interfering with Zion¡¯s plans. hence, Soviet and Usa fall for this in past.

    This new information changed everything. The Xian remnants weren''t just a defeated enemy; they were now a pawn in a larger game. Alam realized he needed to end this quickly, before the Red Nation could fully implement their strategy.

    The battle intensified. Zao¡¯s grenadiers, trained for close-quarters combat, proved invaluable in clearing out enemy positions. The bombers, dropping their pamphlets (and a few well-placed explosives), further demoralized the Xian forces.

    ¡°Keep moving!¡± Alam ordered as he monitored their progress from his base in Xian. Holographic maps displayed the slow, deliberate movements of his units as they navigated the icy landscape, facing sporadic resistance from the Xian Empire.

    Alam watched the unit movements on the battle vision display. The units were moving slowly but steadily, encountering sporadic resistance from the Xian Empire forces.

    ¡°Fang,¡± he said, ¡°didn¡¯t some Xian nobles manage to flee during our last siege? Tell me the truth; I won¡¯t get mad.¡±

    Fang hesitated but finally admitted, ¡°Yes, sir. A few nobles escaped through the tunnels beneath the city.¡±

    ¡°I see. Prepare the bombers. Let¡¯s drop pamphlets offering pardons to any noble who surrenders. They¡¯ll get a nice cultural symbol and a new job as public servants.¡±

    Fang nodded, confirming that the bombers would be ready to launch with the pamphlets on board.

    ¡°Good. Zao¡¯s grenadiers will motivate them,¡± Alam sighed. ¡°Now let¡¯s just hope they¡¯re not too stubborn to fight to the bitter end.¡±

    The officers shared a nervous chuckle, each one aware that the Xian forces were notoriously tenacious. But with the new unit of grenadiers leading the charge, morale was high.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± Alam continued, ¡°do we have better intel on those Shadow Guards and¡­ what are they called again?¡±

    ¡°The Phantom Cult, sir,¡± an officer replied.

    With renewed focus, Alam pressed for updates on their adversaries. The officers confirmed that they had gained a clearer understanding of the Shadow Guard, a small yet elite faction serving as the Phantom Cult''s muscle.

    The Cult itself was more organized, led by the Phantom Priest and the High Oracle, known for their aggressive tactics and ruthless pursuit of power.

    ¡°Why do they call themselves a cult? Do they do anything weird?¡± Alam asked, half-joking.

    The officers exchanged glances before explaining that the Phantom Cult operated under a strict creed of secrecy and extremism, engaging in mysterious rituals aimed at summoning their so-called phantom god.

    Alam sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this cat-and-mouse game while WW4 looms. Offer them a meeting with me, or else¡­¡± His ultimatum hung in the air.

    The Shadow Guard commanders deliberated, finally agreeing to meet Alam to discuss terms for surrender, meanwhile when zao continue their campaign,

    The representatives from the Phantom Cult and Shadow Guard arrived at the Xian Palace, tension thick in the air. Alam gestured for them to take their seats.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Greetings. Thank you for coming. I¡¯m here to discuss the unity of China. With the True Horde banner, we stand a better chance of surviving the global conflict ahead,¡± he said, his tone firm yet inviting.

    The representatives nodded, their faces a mix of wariness and respect.

    ¡°Why did you hesitate to accept my first invitation?¡± Alam pressed.

    A Shadow Guard commander spoke up, ¡°Many of us are skeptical about the True Horde¡¯s ambitions. We had to weigh the risks of surrendering.¡±

    ¡°Now I¡¯m an open book,¡± Alam replied. ¡°You can put your worries to rest by talking to me directly.¡±

    The Phantom Priest stepped forward. His mask was divided vertically: the left half stark white, the right half a deep black. The stark division gave the impression of a perpetual half-smile, half-frown. ¡°Are you truly willing to honor your terms of pardon and amnesty?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Alam assured them. ¡°We¡¯ll forgive your past deeds. Together, we¡¯ll turn over a new leaf under the Confederacy.¡±

    The Phantom Priest nodded, seemingly satisfied.

    ¡°But seriously,¡± Alam added with a smirk, ¡°what kind of cult are you running?¡±

    The Phantom Priest paused before answering, ¡°Our cult seeks the resurrection of the phantom god through rigorous rituals. We aim to control his power to dominate the world.¡±

    ¡°What, like Satanism?¡± Alam quipped, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°No! We¡¯re not Satanists!¡± the Phantom Priest retorted. ¡°Our rituals are meant to summon a glorious deity, not spread destruction.¡±

    ¡°Do you engage in unethical practices like human sacrifice?¡± Alam pressed.

    The Phantom Priest hesitated, then stated firmly, ¡°We do not harm innocents. Our rituals are to access divine power, not to spread violence.¡±

    ¡°Very well,¡± Alam said. ¡°Your beliefs will be protected under Confederation law, and you¡¯ll have autonomy in your regions.¡±

    The Shadow Guard commander nodded appreciatively. ¡°We¡¯re grateful for the Confederacy¡¯s understanding and accept the terms of surrender. Let¡¯s unify against the looming conflict.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now, what do you know about the Flying Dragons?¡± Alam inquired, shifting the topic.

    The representatives exchanged puzzled looks. ¡°Flying Dragons? We¡¯ve heard the legends, but we¡¯ve never seen one,¡± a Shadow Guard commander replied.

    ¡°No, no,¡± Alam clarified with a smirk. ¡°I mean the gang factions in the East.¡±

    Understanding dawned on their faces. ¡°Ah, the Flying Dragon gangs! They¡¯re notorious in the Yellow Sea region, known for their ruthless smuggling operations.¡±

    ¡°Did you have any dealings with them?¡± Alam asked.

    ¡°No,¡± the Shadow Guard commander quickly denied. ¡°We have no connection with the Flying Dragon gangs.¡±

    ¡°Alright, very good. Any last doubts or questions before we wrap this up?¡± Alam asked.

    The Phantom Priest spoke up, ¡°We have no doubts about your sincerity. We welcome the chance to avoid further conflict and stand united under the Confederacy.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam said, raising his cup. ¡°For the people!¡±

    The representatives raised their cups in unison, the atmosphere lightening slightly.

    ¡°For the people!¡± the Shadow Guard commander echoed, a hint of a smile breaking through his mask.

    Early February 2405

    The Minshan Mountains were proving a real challenge for the Wanderer Group. Think steep slopes, narrow paths, and a lot of places to hide. This natural bottleneck slowed their advance against the remaining Xian Empire forces. Even so, Zao¡¯s troops were making progress, pushing back the last pockets of resistance and capturing important passes. They had the remaining Xian forces surrounded. Things were moving forward, but it was slow going.

    The True Horde wasn''t fighting alone. Their new allies, the Phantom Cult, were using their mind-manipulation abilities to turn captured Red Army spies. This caused a lot of confusion and problems for the The Xian Empire. At the same time, the Shadow Guard, the Cult¡¯s fighting force, was getting ready for a surprise attack. This attack was meant to distract the enemy while the Phantom Cult did some behind-the-scenes work, sabotaging enemy supplies and communication lines.

    The fighting in the mountains was tough. The enemy was well hidden, using the terrain to their advantage. Bullets flew everywhere, and there were ambushes around every corner. Zao¡¯s troops had been fighting in these mountain passes for over a week. The enemy was dug in deep, using the thick trees and bushes for cover, and they kept launching surprise attacks. This was taking a heavy toll on both sides. Zao kept pushing forward, slowly clearing out the remaining Xian resistance.

    Command decided it would be a good idea to take out the enemy''s anti-aircraft guns. This would make it safer for bombers to attack the enemy¡¯s strong points. The bombing run was a success. With fewer threats from the ground, the Wanderer Group pushed their attack even harder, continuing to clear out the last of the Xian resistance and secure the mountain pass.

    The Xian Empire forces had been pushed back to mountain forts at the very end of the pass. They¡¯d built makeshift defenses out of rocks and dirt, which protected their tanks and made it difficult for the Wanderers to advance. Even anti-tank rockets couldn''t get through these improvised barriers. The Wanderer armored units had to come up with a new plan. They used their speed and maneuverability to weave through the defenses, planting explosives to blast holes and expose the enemy tanks.

    In the middle of all the smoke and rubble, the Wanderers saw something unexpected: a few enemy soldiers were surrendering, waving a white flag. The Wanderers stopped, weapons raised, just in case it was a trap. They knew it was possible there were hidden weapons or ambushes. Some of the surrendering soldiers looked genuinely relieved, but others seemed nervous and suspicious.

    Among the group of surrendering soldiers, they noticed a man wearing fancy, royal-looking robes. The Wanderers were curious. Was he an important leader?

    By early March 2405 Zao returned to Xian Palace. he reported that the campaign had been successful, but it had been a difficult fight. She brought a captured Xian leader¡ªstill wearing his robes¡ªto meet with Alam.

    Alam raised his eyebrows, gesturing for the prisoner to sit. ¡°Ehem. So, I assume you must be a relative of the emperor?¡±

    The man sat, an older man with an air of nobility. He nodded, not denying the connection.

    ¡°Alright¡­ and¡­ how close?¡± Alam asked.

    The man sighed, looking away for a moment. ¡°I am his son,¡± he finally said. ¡°The prince.¡±

    Alam¡¯s expression shifted. ¡°I see¡­ and I¡¯m the one who killed your father.¡±

    The prince¡¯s eyes narrowed, but he kept his composure. ¡°Yes, you are responsible. But now that our forces have surrendered, I must ask a favor¡­¡±

    ¡°Perhaps I can grant you a pardon for your rebellion. But let me hear what you have in mind first,¡± Alam replied, intrigued.

    ¡°The Xian Empire was my father¡¯s legacy, and I want more than just a pardon,¡± the prince insisted, his tone cold. ¡°I want to be recognized as the new emperor of China.¡±

    Alam stifled a laugh, covering his mouth. ¡°An emperor? Why would you want to be emperor without territory or an army?¡±

    The prince shot him a glare, clearly unimpressed. ¡°Just because my empire has fallen doesn¡¯t mean my bloodline should be forgotten. The Xian Empire has a legacy, and I intend to reclaim my rightful place.¡±

    ¡°What skills do you have?¡± Alam asked, genuinely curious.

    The prince frowned, momentarily taken aback. ¡°I¡¯m knowledgeable in imperial laws and a skilled negotiator. My lineage alone grants me a claim to the throne.¡±

    ¡°Good. I could offer you the position of an imperial judge,¡± Alam replied casually.

    The prince scoffed, visibly frustrated. ¡°A judge? That¡¯s unacceptable. I demand to be emperor!¡±

    ¡°Do you think my vassals will like you?¡± Alam shot back.

    The prince hesitated, considering. ¡°If they¡¯re loyal to you, I see no reason they wouldn¡¯t accept me.¡±

    ¡°Even if my generals don¡¯t like you, how can I accept your demand? I¡¯m just being realistic here.¡±

    Unfazed, the prince pressed on. ¡°I want a chance to prove myself. I ask that you consider my request, give me the opportunity to reclaim my rightful place.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to work for it. We¡¯re a meritocracy. You can rank up based on skill, or you have a third option.¡±

    The prince¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°What¡¯s that third option?¡±

    ¡°You know what happens to subjects who lose: prison, death, or if they¡¯re lucky, exile. That¡¯s just the way it goes.¡±

    Calmly, the prince stated, ¡°I¡¯ll take exile if I must.¡±

    ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll exile you to Europe.¡±

    The prince bowed his head. ¡°I accept this decision. Thank you for your mercy.¡±

    alam Sniff. ¡°Yeah, goodbye, Prince.¡±

    As the prince left, Alam shook his head, chuckling at the bizarre turn of events. Rather than executing the prince or imprisoning him, which could lead to further unrest or martyrdom, Alam opts for exile¡ªa solution that removes the threat without escalating tensions,

    alam lean on chair ¡°exile.. free food. and wifi.. damn.. that is heaven enough for me¡± he then spin his chair

    Just then, new intel arrived: some Red Nation spies and assassins had been captured while attempting to spread rumors and carry out assassination attempts on xian. truo horde capital.

    Alam¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Of course, Zion would pull something like this,¡± he muttered. then close his eyes,

 Chapter 75 Counter Propaganda

    the Xian Palace buzzed with anticipation. A high-profile media event had been hastily arranged: a press conference with the renowned Red Nation journalist, Veronica. She arrived with a small entourage, her presence radiating a calculated blend of charm and professionalism.

    The initial exchanges were polite, bordering on perfunctory. Veronica opened with questions regarding the recently captured Red Nation spies, steering the conversation towards broader geopolitical concerns. Then, with a disarming smile, she shifted gears.

    ¡°Alam,¡± she began, her voice smooth and confident, ¡°Red Nation¡¯s stated intention is to increase the wealth of the region and recivilize Asia. Why do you resist allowing your own people to become richer?¡±

    Alam coughed, composing himself before answering. ¡°Alright¡­ ahem. If Red Nation¡¯s intention is to spread¡­ civilization, then why do they monopolize vital technology? We need better farming technology, water purification, fertilizer, and heat generators. But no¡­ they refuse to sell them to us. They only want to sell us expensive grain and unsustainable coal. If they truly want to help us, they would sell us the rod, not the fish¡­¡±

    Veronica nodded, acknowledging his point, but quickly countered. ¡°But isn¡¯t that much better than just war? Do you see your population as mere meat shields to protect your oppressive regime?¡±

    Alam¡¯s left eye twitched almost imperceptibly. In the background, Fang and the other officers exchanged worried glances, hoping Alam would maintain his composure. He coughed again, taking a deep breath before speaking. ¡°No. We value freedom more than slavery.¡±

    Veronica smirked. ¡°What is freedom to you?¡±

    Alam tapped his lips thoughtfully. ¡°Good question¡­ Freedom is being free from another¡¯s shackles, free from a cage, free from fear¡­¡± Alam then looked directly into her eyes. ¡°Do you agree?¡±

    Veronica nodded. ¡°Last question, Emperor of China¡­ What is your opinion of the Blood Khaganate? Their ancestors had a claim to the land you stand on now. Their ancestors, the Mongol Empire, brought prosperity and peace from the Korean Peninsula to the Levant. It was the Pax Mongolica, as the ¡®Wikipedia Bible¡¯ says. While you have no legitimacy in the first place¡ªbeing from the Nusantara region and becoming a European mercenary¡ªtell me, Alam¡­ do you have the better moral ground?¡±

    Alam sighed. ¡°Do the Mongolians have the right to reclaim Iran and the Levant simply because their ancestors conquered that land? We must deconstruct the concept of Pax Mongolica, because it¡¯s as absurd as claiming the Mongolians have a right to the Levant, or the British, or the Turks. We live in a multipolar world now. A world where colonization based on race or controlled by a few oligarchs has no place.¡±

    Veronica smiled, a genuine smile this time. She thanked him for the interview.

    After Veronica left, Yang and Fang approached Alam. ¡°Congratulations, sir. We maintained our reputation in the eyes of the world,¡± Fang said.

    Yang nodded. ¡°If I were you, I might have punched her face, haha!¡±

    The next day, Alam convened a war council with his seasoned commanders and generals to discuss the situation.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said, taking charge. ¡°Our enemy is trying to sow discord through bribery, blackmail, and propaganda. Anyone caught spreading rumors will lose their tongue.¡±

    The commanders nodded in agreement, fully supportive of Alam''s harsh measures. The Red Nation¡¯s tactics couldn¡¯t be ignored.

    ¡°But that¡¯s not enough. We need to mitigate this asymmetric war,¡± Alam continued. ¡°What do you suggest?¡±

    Ideas flew around the room: increased surveillance, counter-propaganda efforts, and stricter controls on local populations were all proposed. The discussion was lively as they strategized how to handle the Red Nation''s insidious plots.

    ¡°We must broadcast resilience to our territory,¡± Alam declared. ¡°Our people need to be strong. We must survive when the Crescent Alliance attacks the Red Army. Vigilance is key!¡±

    The generals nodded, fully on board with the plan.

    ¡°Any questions?¡± Alam asked, surveying the room.

    A few murmured inquiries were raised, but for the most part, the strategy was clear. With the meeting concluded, Alam felt a renewed sense of purpose. The Wanderer Group was ready to face whatever came next.

    Early February 2405

    At the base, the news blared from the screen: ¡°Alam hosts a meeting with China¡¯s Warlords to unite against the Red Army threat! Welcome back to Witty World News, folks! Tonight, we¡¯re diving into the heart of China, where the tea is hot and the warlords are even hotter! Can Alam unite these squabbling egos against the looming Red Army?¡±

    Kirk glanced at Vance, intrigued. ¡°So, what do you think about Alam¡¯s warlord meet-up? Smart move or just a recipe for chaos?¡±

    Vance sipped his drink, a wry smile curling his lips. ¡°New allies mean new strength, but also more headaches. More people to manage, you know?¡±

    Kirk nodded, contemplating the messiness of uniting so many strong personalities under Alam¡¯s banner. ¡°It¡¯s going to be a circus. I can only imagine how hard it is for Alam to keep everyone in line.¡±

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Just then, Mei breezed into the room, document in hand. ¡°Alright, team. We have a new mission. We need to investigate the last faction resisting the True Horde in China¡ªthe Flying Dragons. We thought we¡¯d defeated them, but rumors say they¡¯re back and mingling with our citizens.¡±

    Kirk¡¯s expression turned serious as he read the document. ¡°This is a big deal. We can¡¯t let anyone blend in with our forces who might cause chaos.¡±

    Vance quipped, ¡°Ironically, we used the same trick to destroy their base before. So, what¡¯s the plan, Mei?¡±

    Mei¡¯s confidence shone through. ¡°We¡¯ll track down the rumored Dragon base. Once we locate it, we can take it out. This is our chance for a significant win against the True Horde.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s do this,¡± Vance agreed, enthusiasm bubbling.

    ¡°Let¡¯s gather the team and discuss the plan,¡± Mei suggested, a slight smile on her face. ¡°This mission is crucial.¡±

    In the meeting room, the atmosphere was thick with the kind of quiet intensity only found among top-tier specialists. This wasn''t your average strike team; this was the CAD¡ªthe Ctrl+Alt+Deletes¡ªthe solution for when everything else crashed. Mei, Vance, and Kirk welcomed their newest member: Razor, a hooded figure who exuded an air of quiet competence. He was Cyber-Brahmin, which, in their world, was basically hacker royalty.

    Vance raised an eyebrow. ¡°So, you¡¯re the ghost in the machine we¡¯ve heard so much about?¡±

    Kirk eyed Razor curiously. Unlike the outgoing Light, Razor was all business, cool and detached. ¡°Hey. Heard you¡¯re the one who can open any digital door. We could really use your skills to bypass some firewalls when we get to Shanghai. Up for it?¡±

    Razor met Kirk¡¯s gaze, a hint of suspicion in his otherwise composed expression. ¡°If it has a digital lock, I can pick it. Just point me at the target.¡±

    Vance chuckled. ¡°Good. Now, about these secret underwater passages in Shanghai¡­¡±

    ¡°Government access routes,¡± Razor explained. ¡°Off-limits to the public. But there¡¯s always a back door. Rumors say the gangs and smugglers know the way in.¡±

    Vance''s eyes lit up. ¡°So, the True Horde is kept in the dark. This could get spicy! I wonder how Alam will react.¡±

    Razor added, ¡°If there are no access points, we can infiltrate the Shanghai police to steal their routes.¡±

    Vance raised an eyebrow. ¡°Infiltrate the police? Now that¡¯s ambitious!¡± He looked at Kirk and Mei for their thoughts.

    Kirk and Mei exchanged nods, embracing the challenge. ¡°Razor, if anyone can pull this off, it¡¯s you,¡± Kirk said, a determined glint in his eye.

    With their mission set, the CAD team  prepared for a dive into the murky depths of Shanghai, where secrets lurked beneath the surface and danger awaited at every turn. The game was on, and they were ready to play.

    A day later, the CAD team  had set up base in a rundown apartment just blocks away from their target: a police station in Shanghai.

    Razor, the team¡¯s hacker extraordinaire, was in his element, cracking the police station¡¯s firewall with the finesse of a master locksmith. ¡°A few more tries and I¡¯ll be in,¡± he remarked, fingers flying over the keyboard. His prowess earned him newfound respect from the team.

    Vance, leaning back in his chair, smirked. ¡°The most I can do on a computer is play Minesweeper!¡±

    Razor chuckled, turning to Kirk. ¡°Oh yeah? Maybe you can try to beat my record. I once had a pretty high score.¡±

    ¡°Really? I¡¯m not surprised,¡± Vance shot back. ¡°You seem like the analytical type.¡±

    Razor beamed at the compliment, his low-pitched voice brightening. ¡°I am! I love puzzles, strategy games, and solving problems.¡±

    ¡°Good, because I used to love that too,¡± Vance replied, settling into the banter.

    Meanwhile, Kirk and Mei roamed the city, gathering intel. Razor watched them leave, a smile creeping onto his face. Alone with his computer, he felt a sense of peace in the dark. It was just him and the screen, his sanctuary from the chaos outside.

    Later, the CAD team  regrouped.

    ¡°Alright, what did you find?¡± Kirk asked as they settled in.

    They shared vital intel about the Flying Dragons, pinpointing their location and mapping the access routes to the underwater city. The team had everything they needed to plan their next move.

    ¡°Interesting¡­ the entrance is near the sewer,¡± Vance remarked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°No wonder it¡¯s so secretive.¡±

    Razor leaned in, eager to explain. ¡°The sewer not only handles waste but also conceals essential facilities and secret entrances. It¡¯s the most secure area in Shanghai, patrolled only by the police.¡±

    ¡°Can we disguise ourselves as officers?¡± Vance asked.

    ¡°Technically, yes. But it¡¯s risky. The police are strict, and they have access codes only real officers can use. However, if we hack their network, we can snag those codes,¡± Razor replied, his voice dripping with confidence.

    ¡°Great! Let¡¯s get some new IDs and dress up as officers!¡± Vance said, his excitement palpable.

    Razor smirked, his enthusiasm infectious. He opened his laptop, ready to craft their new identities like an artist with a canvas.

    A few days later, Mei returned, holding police uniforms.

    ¡°Here¡¯s our new look,¡± she said, a grin on her face.

    Kirk admired her handiwork. ¡°Nice job, Mei. With these disguises, we¡¯ll blend right in.¡±

    ¡°After we find the entrance, we¡¯ll lay low and figure out how to infiltrate the Flying Dragon gang,¡± Vance added.

    The day arrived. The CAD team , dressed as police officers, approached the station with fake IDs in hand.

    The real officers were surprisingly friendly, oblivious to the ruse. With the help of the police, the team navigated the sewer system without raising any suspicions. Confidence surged as they made their way to the hidden entrance.

    ¡°Wow, this is like entering a secret city,¡± Vance exclaimed as they descended in an elevator, neon lights illuminating their path.

    The underwater level opened up to a dazzling cyberpunk landscape, sunlight filtering through the ceiling. The walls glowed with advertisements for underwater shops, creating a surreal atmosphere.

    ¡°It¡¯s like something out of a video game!¡± Kirk marveled.

    ¡°Ironically, even gang cities need police to maintain order,¡± Vance quipped.

    Razor nodded. ¡°For a city to thrive, both cops and criminals have to play their part, or it becomes a warzone.¡±

    The team decided to rent an apartment in the underwater city for their base. It wasn''t exactly a penthouse suite¡ªmore like a converted storage unit with a view of a perpetually damp concrete wall¡ªbut it would do. After disabling hidden cameras and trackers (standard procedure in a city built by and for those who preferred to remain unseen), they established a secure hideout.

    Mei, who understood the pre-True Horde dynamics of warlords and gangs better than anyone, noticed familiar faces among the crowds¡ªhardened gang members with telltale tattoos, and warriors with the disciplined posture of trained fighters. They were all here, drawn to this underwater melting pot. The CAD team  was poised to dive into danger, armed with disguises, intel, and a plan to take down the Flying Dragons once and for all.

    In the cramped apartment that served as their base, Vance leaned back, arms crossed, eyebrows knitted in thought. ¡°So, the Flying Dragons aren¡¯t just one big bad gang but a patchwork of various factions? This includes some warlords who fled the True Horde? That¡¯s some juicy intel!¡±

    Razor nodded, his fingers dancing on his laptop keyboard like a concert pianist. ¡°Absolutely. It means we¡¯re dealing with a hodgepodge of gangs, each with its own strengths and weaknesses. We need to gather more intel to craft the perfect plan to take them down.¡±

    ¡°Submarines streamline transport between land and underwater,¡± Razor added. ¡°We need to monitor their routes.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with their submarine dock,¡± Vance decided.

    ¡°We¡¯ll infiltrate the area and gather intel,¡± Razor suggested.

    ¡°Kirk, you and Razor focus on the dock. Mei and I will infiltrate the Dragon base,¡± Vance concluded.

    As the CAD team  finalized their plans, excitement crackled in the air. They were gearing up for a mission that could turn the tide against the Flying Dragons, and the thrill of the chase had never felt so invigorating.

 Chapter 76 Crescent Alliance

    The main forces of the Crescent Alliance had finally arrived, and the atmosphere in Xian Palace buzzed with anticipation. The alliance was a colorful mix of the Yellow, Pink, Purple, and White Nations, while the rest of the major powers remained neutral.

    Yellow nation army. or the Golden Caravan is composed mainly a armored unit, as successor of Nato but with touch of post apocalypse, advanced tanks and light armored unit.

    their vehicles is decorated with a animal skin, some is even a brick mimicking a house. or just simply a wood. its was for a drip. not for camouflage, alam is roll his eyes on the sight. but he wont show his xenophobic prejudice on his ally.

    then its followed by Pink nation army. or the Sisterhood of south. based on africa. and despite their feminist view, they mostly send a men warrior. i guess in war gender is truly equal, espicially while face a bullet. Their contribution consisted mainly of infantry and light weaponry.

    Then there was the Purple Nation Army or the Shangri-La Confederacy. While their forces were less flashy compared to the Yellow Nation, they held air superiority with a fleet of gliders. Their mountainous homeland had trained them for aerial warfare, and they performed stunning acrobatics above Xian.

    Finally, the White Nation Army, or the Holy People Council from Madagascar, didn¡¯t send any soldiers at all¡ªjust tools and ammunition.

    Three high-ranking members approached Alam, each one more colorful than the last.

    First came Artak, a man in his forties draped in a striking yellow cloak, a live snake coiled casually around his shoulder. ¡°The sands shift quickly, Alam. We¡¯ve come to ensure they do not swallow us whole.¡±

    Next was Khawlah, a sharp-eyed woman in a crisp white suit and glasses, representing the Holy People Council. ¡°Our technologies and minds stand at your disposal. Let¡¯s forge a shield, not just against the Red Nation, but against all the shadows threatening us.¡±

    Finally, there was General Nkosi, her dark skin and curly black hair framed by tribal tattoos. ¡°My warriors are restless; their spears thirst for a worthy fight. Lead us, Alam, and we shall paint the desert red with the blood of our enemies.¡±

    Alam grinned, welcoming the representatives. ¡°Ah, the illustrious Crescent Alliance! Faster than I expected. Good!¡±

    ¡°Time is of the essence,¡± Artak reminded him, his white snake flicking its tongue

    ¡°Our world teeters on the edge of oblivion. We cannot afford to dither,¡± Khawlah added, her voice firm.

    ¡°Our forces are ready,¡± General Nkosi chimed in. ¡°Let¡¯s march on the Red Nation and send a message: We shall not be denied!¡±

    Alam raised a hand. ¡°But hold up! I¡¯m currently in a truce with Zion. I¡¯m a man of my word, so my army will stay put. However, I will provide valuable intel.¡±

    Artak nodded, understanding. ¡°that shame. but That¡¯s reasonable you fight with them since stone age. We seek not mindless conflict, but to eliminate the Red Nation¡¯s threat. Your support will be invaluable to our cause.¡±

    Khawlah chimed in, ¡°Indeed! Intelligence is key. We¡¯ll use your information to strategize and prepare for the inevitable conflict.¡±

    Alam¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Speaking of weaponry, what¡¯s your take on their strato cannon? It flattened my forces in the mountains just two months ago.¡±

    ¡°The strato cannon is a formidable weapon, capable of massive destruction,¡± Artak explained, his tone grave. ¡°Its range and power make it a significant threat. Your intel on it is crucial for us to devise countermeasures.¡±

    Alam sighed. ¡°I still don¡¯t know its location. It¡¯s probably somewhere in Manchuria, near their bridge between Asia and North America. Logically, it¡¯s somewhere along their supply line.¡±

    Artak¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Without precise intel, it¡¯ll be tough to formulate an effective plan. We must proceed with caution.¡±

    Alam nodded. ¡°Zion guards his toys well. Plus, with Zion moving his main force into Asia this month, the party just got a lot more interesting.¡±

    ¡°Zion¡¯s troop movements are troubling,¡± Artak acknowledged. ¡°It indicates a shift in strategy. We need to stay vigilant.¡±

    ¡°And don¡¯t concentrate your forces; that would be too tempting for them,¡± Alam advised.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Artak agreed. ¡°Spreading our forces will make us less of a target.¡±

    Alam shifted the topic. ¡°So, who¡¯s the current Khan now that Bayarl has passed?¡±

    Artak¡¯s expression turned somber. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s a delicate issue. The Great Khan Bayarl¡¯s death has thrown us into a succession crisis. His adoptive son,Mulen Genghis Khan, has been named the new Khan, but there¡¯s unrest among the nobles.¡±

    Alam chuckled, unable to help himself. ¡°Genghis Khan? That¡¯s quite a title! I hope the Golden Caravan still lives up to its name.¡±

    Artak nodded, a hint of a smile breaking through. ¡°It¡¯s a prestigious title, but it comes with a lot of baggage. The young Genghis faces significant challenges.¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    News of the Great Khan Bayarl''s death and the subsequent succession crisis within the Yellow Nation sparked a flicker of amusement in Alam. The newly appointed Khan, Mulen Genghis Khan, with his ambitious name, seemed to carry a lot of baggage.

    Alam sniffed, contemplating the situation. ¡°How many troops do you have for WW4?¡±

    ¡°We boast over three million troops from our member nations, compared to the Red Nation¡¯s 1.5 million,¡± Artak replied. ¡°Our forces are well-trained, but we¡¯re aware that the Red Nation has advanced weaponry. The conflict will be fierce.¡±

    Alam shook his head. ¡°Damn, that¡¯s a lot of lives at stake.¡± A wave of unease washed over Alam. The potential cost of this war, in human lives, was immense. plus this is just early stage of war.

    ¡°Yes, the upcoming battle will be brutal,¡± Artak admitted. ¡°We must maximize our resources and stay committed to our objectives.¡±

    Alam¡¯s gaze turned contemplative. ¡°What happens after the Red Nation is defeated?¡±

    Artak shrugged. ¡°The alliance will have to decide how to handle the aftermath. We¡¯ll just have to wait and see.¡±

    ¡°Well then, let¡¯s feast before we dive into plans,¡± Alam said, raising his cup. ¡°The Red Army¡¯s arrogance has haunted us for years, but now we¡¯re united to crush their pride. Together, we will bring them to justice! For the people!¡±

    The room erupted in cheers as everyone, including Artak, raised their cups in solidarity.

    ¡°For the people! For the Crescent Alliance!¡± Artak boomed, and the group savored the moment, then they move to the inner part of palace.

    As the feast progressed, Alam turned to the representatives. ¡°I still remember my visit to the Golden Caravan. But I¡¯d love to hear more about the Holy People Council and the Sisterhood of South.¡±

    Artak smiled knowingly. ¡°Ah, the Golden Caravan is magnificent, renowned for hospitality. The Holy People Council guides communities with spiritual leadership, while the Sisterhood of South consists of fierce warrior women dedicated to justice and equality. I can introduce you to representatives from both groups.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯d prefer to learn directly from the source,¡± Alam winked.

    Artak laughed heartily. ¡°You sly dog! I see you have a taste for the ladies. Let¡¯s make those introductions.¡±

    ¡°Shh, let the women talk, Artak!¡± Alam gestured to Khawlah and Nkosi.

    ¡°The floor is yours, ladies,¡± Artak said, stepping back with a grin.

    ¡°Thank you, Artak. I¡¯m General Nkosi, representative of the Sisterhood of South. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you,¡± Nkosi said, her smile warm.

    ¡°And I¡¯m Khawlah from the Holy People Council. It¡¯s an honor,¡± she added, her glasses glinting in the light.

    Alam¡¯s curiosity piqued. ¡°What does your tattoo mean, General? Do all the warrior women have similar markings?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my tattoo signifies my identity and devotion to my people,¡± Nkosi replied proudly. ¡°It¡¯s a unique tribal symbol, a badge of honor for us.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. So, it¡¯s a matriarchal society?¡± Alam inquired, intrigued.

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Nkosi confirmed. ¡°Women lead and hold power, while men have their roles. It¡¯s a proud tradition, passed down through generations.¡±

    ¡°Scary,¡± Alam chuckled,

    Nkosi laughed, her demeanor cheerful. ¡°It can be intimidating, but we value knowledge and wisdom just as much as strength. We¡¯re not as scary as we look!¡±

    ¡°What about Madagascar?¡± Alam asked Khawlah, eager for more.

    ¡°A beautiful island, rich in culture and hospitality,¡± she replied. ¡°Despite challenges, Madagascar is on a path to growth and a bright future.¡±

    Alam pressed further. ¡°But what¡¯s it like having an AI as a leader?¡±

    ¡°Good question,¡± Nkosi replied, amused. ¡°Having an AI can be efficient and unbiased, but human leaders are essential for empathy and ethical judgment.¡±

    ¡°Does the Sisterhood use AI?¡± Alam asked.

    Both women shook their heads. ¡°No, we trust human insight over machines. We value the human element in leadership,¡± Khawlah explained.

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam said, taking a sip.so just white nation who crazy enough using ai as leader ¡°AI as a co-advisor is fine, but humans must lead.¡±

    Their laughter mingled with the chatter of the feast.

    ¡°General Nkosi,¡± Alam said, shifting gears, ¡°are you married?¡±

    Nkosi blushed slightly. ¡°Not yet. My focus is on my duties and responsibilities.¡±

    ¡°I see. After the war, you should visit me,¡± Alam offered, a playful glint in his eye.

    General Nkosi smiled, her cheeks flushed. ¡°I would be happy to visit you once the war is over. It would be a pleasure to get to know you better and explore your culture, your country, and your people. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll be a memorable experience for both of us.¡±

    Alam raised his cup, rallying the room. ¡°Good! But for now, gentlemen and brave women¡­¡± He paused for effect. ¡°The Red Army¡¯s arrogance has plagued us for years, but together, we will destroy their pride! Together, we will bring them to justice! For the people!¡±

    Cheers erupted, cups raised high.

    ¡°Indeed, we are here to fight the tyranny of the Red Nation,¡± Artak boomed, his snake flicking its tongue in agreement. ¡°Together, we shall restore peace and stability to our nations. We will not rest until we succeed! For the people! For the Crescent Alliance!¡±

    Alam took a sip, casually observing Nkosi¡¯s expression. She smiled shyly in return, a blush creeping across her cheeks.

    As the night wore on, the representatives settled into their chambers at the palace. Suddenly, a knock echoed from Nkosi¡¯s door.

    Alam stood on the other side, partially obscured and holding a chocolate bar. With a mischievous wink, he revealed himself. ¡°I know tomorrow you¡¯ll be busy, but do you have time for a little fun now?¡±

    Nkosi blinked, momentarily taken aback, then broke into a smile. ¡°Oh, yes! I would love to spend some time with you.¡±

    ¡°Good! I know your land produces chocolate, but would you like some?¡± Alam grinned.

    ¡°Yes, please! I¡¯d love some chocolate. I¡¯m very proud of my country¡¯s ability to produce the finest chocolate in the world, and sharing it with you would be a delight.¡±

    Alam handed her the chocolate bar, and Nkosi took a bite, savoring the rich flavor. ¡°This is delicious! The chocolate is rich and creamy, with hints of vanilla and caramel. It has the perfect blend of sweetness and bitterness. I can see why you wanted to share this with me.¡±

    Alam leaned casually against the door. ¡°Can I come in?¡±

    Nkosi blushed again, nodding. ¡°Yes, you¡¯re welcome to come in.¡± She stepped aside, closing the door behind him, and settled into a chair, still munching on her chocolate.

    ¡°Hehe,¡± Alam chuckled as he stepped in. ¡°You know, even though I technically own this place, I rarely rest here. I usually only use it for special occasions.¡±

    Nkosi nodded, swallowing her chocolate. ¡°I understand. This place is grand and luxurious, but it can be quite lonely and quiet when you¡¯re by yourself. It¡¯s a special place for special moments.¡±

    ¡°So, tell me about yourself,¡± Alam prompted, genuinely curious.

    Nkosi took a moment to gather her thoughts. ¡°I¡¯m disciplined and responsible, devoted to protecting my people and my country. I¡¯m a strong warrior and leader, but I also have a soft side. I love exploring new places and learning about different cultures, and I have a soft spot for cute animals and children. What about you? What¡¯s your story?¡±

    Alam shrugged, a playful smile on his face. ¡°I¡¯m just a man. I like fighting. After a rough start as a ¡®bad person,¡¯ I joined the Wanderer Mercenaries and worked my way up to squad leader. Through various campaigns, I gained influence and eventually became a leader.¡±

    Nkosi grinned, her eyes sparkling. ¡°So you¡¯re a warrior with a past! I¡¯m impressed you turned things around and became a strong leader.¡±

    ¡°So, General,¡± Alam leaned closer, an impish glint in his eye, ¡°were you a good girl growing up, or a little mischievous like me?¡±

    Nkosi giggled, shaking her head. ¡°Oh, I was definitely a wild child! I frequently snuck out to explore the jungle around my village. I had a rebellious streak, always pushing boundaries. But as I matured and took responsibility for my people, I learned to behave. Every child has a wild side¡ªit¡¯s natural!¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ can I touch your hair?¡± Alam asked, a playful glint in his eye.

    Nkosi¡¯s blush deepened, coloring her cheeks a warm rose. ¡°You mean my hair?¡± She tilted her head slightly. ¡°Well, I suppose. Just be gentle; it¡¯s a bit fragile.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I just can¡¯t resist these curls,¡± Alam said, lightly running his fingers through the thick, springy strands. They felt surprisingly soft against his skin.

    Nkosi leaned back, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she savored the unexpected touch. A shiver ran down her spine.

    ¡°Now,¡± Alam said, a teasing lilt in his voice, ¡°can I kiss you?¡±

    Nkosi¡¯s breath hitched, her crimson blush spreading down her neck. She met his gaze, then nodded slowly, her eyes half-lidded. Alam closed the distance, his lips meeting hers in a gentle, and she return with exploratory kiss.

    ¡°Wow, I didn¡¯t know you were this aggressive,¡± he breathed, eyes wide with surprise.

    Nkosi giggled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. ¡°I think I¡¯m showing my wild side. I can be a bit feisty, but it¡¯s all part of my charm. I hope you don¡¯t mind!¡±

    ¡°I see¡­ Just be gentle, okay? Well, if sometimes rough is fine¡­¡± Alam rubbed her face, a grin spreading across his features.

    Nkosi¡¯s eyes sparkled with excitement. ¡°If it¡¯s a bit rough, I think that¡¯s okay.¡± She squeezed his hands tightly, the thrill of the moment escalating.

    ¡°So, tell me¡ªwhat does ¡®Nkosi¡¯ mean?¡± Alam asked, genuinely curious.

    With a tender smile, Nkosi leaned against him. ¡°Nkosi is a Huwai name meaning ¡®beautiful¡¯ or ¡®graceful.¡¯ My parents hoped I would always remember to maintain my beauty and grace, no matter the challenges I faced.¡±

    ¡°Huwai? Where¡¯s that located?¡±

    ¡°In the far northern lands, within the Great Desert,¡± she explained, her voice warm. ¡°It¡¯s harsh and cold, with sandstorms and freezing nights. But it¡¯s rich in culture and heritage. I was raised there, and it¡¯s my ancestral home.¡±

    ¡°Sounds tough, but you cute,¡± .

    Nkosi smiled as he kissed her cheek. ¡°Despite my intimidating tattoo, you think I¡¯m cute?¡±

    Alam hum ¡°mmh.. yep, but indeed a tattoo in face is. bit scary¡±

    Nkosi laughed, a soft sound that filled the room. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve been told my tattoo can be intimidating, but it adds a certain mystique to my appearance. It¡¯s part of my heritage, and I¡¯m proud of it.¡±

    Alam tilt his head ¡°well. after war. lets go exploring..a wandering¡±

    Nkosi¡¯s smile widened. ¡°I¡¯d love that! It would be a pleasure to explore your culture and country.¡±

    Alam¡¯s eyes danced with playful anticipation. ¡°But for now,¡± he murmured, lowering his voice, ¡°let¡¯s just enjoy this moment.¡±

 Chapter 77 Shadows of the Wanderer

    In mid-February 2405, as the Crescent Alliance clashed with the Red Army in the north, Alam found it hard to relax. News broke that sent shockwaves through the power-hungry factions of China: a clandestine underwater city, rumored to be the lair of the elusive Flying Dragons, had been discovered beneath the bustling streets of Shanghai. Whispers of submarines ferrying rogue agents and rebel factions between the surface and this watery fortress ignited alarm bells in Alam''s mind.

    ¡°Secret cities and submarines?¡± he muttered, pacing his dimly lit command center. ¡°This isn¡¯t just a sideshow; it¡¯s a full-blown circus.¡±

    ¡°Sir, our agents are already infiltrating their city,¡± Fang reported, confidence radiating from her. ¡°It¡¯s just a matter of time before we take them down.¡±

    ¡°Good. Order our navy to prep a fleet of deep charge bombs. We¡¯ll wipe them off the map and teach them a lesson in underwater hospitality.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir!¡± Fang saluted. ¡°Our naval forces are ready to deploy. The Flying Dragons won¡¯t know what hit them!¡±

    As the gears of war began to turn, Alam''s mind raced with possibilities. he then scramble old document from his past conquest. with bit sense of pain on his head, trying recall who is who. then a fat file titled ¡°operation shanghai¡±, its was Carmelita effort in past to had better weapon deal from east. but its stop after one wanderer general go rogue.

    so alam wanted to confront the so-called Dragon Master directly. ¡°Get me the leader of the Flying Dragons,¡± he commanded, a wicked grin creeping onto his face. ¡°I want a deep talk.¡±

    Fang nodded eagerly. ¡°Understood, sir. I¡¯ll make it happen.¡±

    Within moments, the Wanderer¡¯s top hacker had infiltrated the Flying Dragons with help of razor, they connect the transmission lines, and Alam found himself staring at a flickering screen. The connection was shaky, but there it was¡ªface-to-face with the elusive Dragon Master himself.

    ¡°Hello¡­ do you hear me?¡± Alam croaked, trying to sound casual.

    From the other end, a figure emerged, half-hidden behind an opulent aquarium, his greying hair framing a face adorned with a half-mask that screamed ¡°mysterious villain.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I can hear you. Who is this?¡± the Dragon Master replied, his tone cautious yet intrigued.

    ¡°I¡¯m Alam, the big cheese of the Wanderer Group. So, you¡¯re the legendary Dragon Master?¡± Alam chuckled, picturing a dragon that had perhaps seen better days.

    The Dragon Master¡¯s eyes narrowed, a spark of recognition lighting up his expression. ¡°I¡¯ve heard much about you, Alam. What do you wish to discuss?¡±

    ¡°You survived my last attack four years ago, so I¡¯m curious,¡± Alam leaned forward, his tone suddenly serious. ¡°Does your precious underwater city still remain a secret? Did the agent I captured know about it?¡±

    The Dragon Master leaned back, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. ¡°Yes, he knew, but our secret is well-guarded. Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°I plan to sever the heads of any traitors who don¡¯t spill the beans, starting with you. So, how about you just surrender?¡± Alam¡¯s grin was far too smug for such a serious conversation.

    The Dragon Master chuckled, a sound that reverberated through the crackling connection. ¡°I will not surrender, Alam. We are strong, disciplined, and our underwater city is deep and fortified. Your threats are as empty as your promises.¡±

    ¡°Oh really?¡± Alam scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. ¡°Who¡¯s backing you? Pirates? Or are you just a lapdog for the Red Nations?¡±

    ¡°We owe no allegiance to anyone. We are the Flying Dragons; we stand alone.¡± The Dragon Master¡¯s confidence was palpable.

    ¡°Interesting. But what¡¯s with the mask? Got a face only a mother could love?¡± Alam quipped, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

    ¡°This scar is a badge of honor, a testament to my battles and conquests,¡± the Dragon Master replied, unfazed. ¡°But why do you wish to attack us? We¡¯ve done nothing to provoke you.¡±

    ¡°Honestly?¡± Alam leaned back, feigning innocence. ¡°I just feel like it. Heh.¡±

    The Dragon Master sighed, exasperated. ¡°That¡¯s a terrible motive for war. You should reassess your motivations.¡±

    ¡°Look, I want to unite China and kick the Red Nations out. Why don¡¯t you join me in this noble cause?¡± Alam¡¯s tone turned earnest.

    ¡°Uniting China is a noble goal, but your methods are reckless. We won¡¯t ally with someone who threatens our existence.¡±

    Alam snorted, ¡°Is that so? But you¡¯re just playing both sides, supplying weapons to my enemies and my warlords. That¡¯s naughty.¡±

    ¡°Tactical moves, my friend,¡± the Dragon Master replied smoothly. ¡°We¡¯re merely maintaining a balance of power. A stable situation benefits all.¡±

    ¡°Enough with the sugarcoating! Join me or prepare for war!¡± Alam declared, his patience wearing thin.

    ¡°Let¡¯s cut to the chase. Our ideologies clash like titans. We¡¯ve built our identity; we cannot simply discard it for a fleeting alliance.¡± Dragon Master repliedThis narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Shhh, shhhh! Speak plainly, like a human.¡± alam rub his forehead

    ¡°What I mean, in human language, is we simply cannot reconcile our differences without conflict. What¡¯s your plan for uniting China? Peacefully or violently?¡± Dragon Master replied

    ¡°I¡¯ve already united most factions under the True Horde banner. All that¡¯s left are rebel factions like yours. Give me a good answer.¡± alam said while lean on his chair

    With a hint of reluctance, the Dragon Master replied, ¡°We envision a united China where all are free and equal. Your vision seems more about dominance.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re saying my Wanderers have a hidden agenda?¡± Alam shot back.

    ¡°Not hidden, but different. You seek unity through power; we seek it through justice.¡± the Dragon Master retort

    ¡°Oh, I see. You were part of the Wanderers when Carmelita was in charge, weren¡¯t you?¡± Alam¡¯s tone shifted, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Indeed, I was a general then, and I still believe in our original mission: a maintain law on this planet based on integrity and respect.¡±

    ¡°So why fight in the first place?¡± Alam pressed. ¡°You resisted me when I took over after Carmelita.¡±

    ¡°We resist because our visions diverge. You want to unify under the True Horde; we want to cultivate a community.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong. The Wanderers are not suited for governance. We excel in warfare, not ruling.¡± alam reply

    The Dragon Master shook his head, disdain etched across his features. ¡°The Wanderers can govern effectively. You¡¯re blinded by your ambition.¡±

    ¡°Stop with the idealism! Assassination and covert operations aren¡¯t sustainable for governance ...yes// that is why you still own that little underwater city when i success control much large area..!¡± Alam shot back, exasperated.

    ¡°You know,¡± the Dragon Master began, his voice smooth yet tinged with arrogance, ¡°the Wanderer Group may not have the same reach as the True Horde, but we¡¯re not just insignificant dots on your map. Our size lets us be nimble and adaptable.¡± He gestured as if trying to paint a picture that only he could see. ¡°We can focus our efforts where it counts, rather than spreading ourselves thin.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smirk. ¡°Ah, but if you keep resisting me, you might find yourself in a legitimacy crisis. You¡¯re not just rebelling against me; you¡¯re also going against the legacy of Carmelita.¡±

    The Dragon Master¡¯s eyes flashed with indignation. ¡°Legitimacy is a complex issue, my friend. Carmelita stepped down voluntarily! We honor her legacy by fighting for the vision of the Wanderer Group, not by rolling over for the True Horde.¡±

    ¡°Right, right,¡± Alam scoffed. ¡°But let¡¯s be real. Civil war isn¡¯t exactly heroic. If one of us falls, it¡¯s will be empty .¡±

    The Dragon Master shrugged, his demeanor unyielding. ¡°It¡¯s a tragic conflict, yes, but our goals aren¡¯t fundamentally incompatible. We should seek peace, not war! Let¡¯s focus on cooperation instead of this pointless squabbling!¡±

    Alam leaned forward, intrigued. ¡°But who are you, really? What¡¯s your real name?¡±

    ¡°William Hua,¡± the Dragon Master replied, a hint of pride in his voice. ¡°But in this glorious war, I¡¯ve earned titles like the Dragon Master and the Conqueror of China. Impressive, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Alam chuckled. ¡°Impressive? More like a parade of egos. You sound a bit full of yourself with all those titles.¡±

    ¡°A man cannot lead without a bit of pride!¡± William retorted,. ¡°Pride fuels ambition and success. It¡¯s a strength, not a flaw.¡±

    Alam paused, chewing thoughtfully. ¡°So you¡¯d rather fight to the bitter end than admit you might be wrong?¡±

    William straightened, conviction etched on his face. ¡°I fight for what I believe in! If that leads to my demise, so be it. I won¡¯t surrender to tyranny.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow. ¡°Interesting stance. But does the idea of not being the big cheese anymore not bother you?¡±

    ¡°Not at all!¡± William declared. ¡°I¡¯d rather die fighting for a fair cause than submit to oppression. The Wanderer Group is about a vision, not just one man¡¯s ambitions.¡±

    ¡°whait a minute, man,¡± Alam interrupted,. ¡°Don¡¯t paint my True Horde as a bunch of oppressors! We accept all religions, as long as they¡¯re not toxic. I¡¯m just doing what every leader must: uniting the various warlords by subjugation. It¡¯s an age-old tactic!¡±

    William leaned back, his expression condescending. ¡°Subjugation? Really? You think it¡¯s all about brute force? That¡¯s so¡­ last century. Diplomacy and cooperation should be your tools, not a sledgehammer.¡±

    ¡°Says the man with a secret underwater city,¡± Alam shot back, smirking. ¡°How¡¯s that for hypocrisy?¡±

    William¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°That¡¯s a harsh characterization. We deal in necessities and provide services. We¡¯re cleaning up the underground market, not poisoning it!¡±

    Alam leaned closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°Oh, right. Because calling yourself a ¡®Wanderer¡¯ doesn¡¯t sound like a cover for pirating and smuggling.¡±

    ¡°I am still a Wanderer! My heart belongs to the cause!¡± William insisted,. ¡°I¡¯m defending my convictions!¡±

    Alam smirked, relishing the moment. ¡°Let¡¯s be real, William. What does a pirate do?¡±

    ¡°A pirate is a thief, a plunderer! They harm others for their own gain!¡± William retorted, indignation rising.

    ¡°And do they not smuggle and have docks for their dubious activities?¡± Alam pressed, enjoying the back-and-forth.

    William¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Some do, yes, but that doesn¡¯t apply to me! We¡¯re not pirates; we¡¯re revolutionaries!¡±

    ¡°Revolutionaries with a side of piracy,¡± Alam quipped, a triumphant grin on his face. ¡°Congratulations! Now prepare for your hanging!¡±

    ¡°You lack any basis for that accusation!¡± William shot back, indignation spilling over. ¡°Just because we have a port doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m a pirate! We provide essential services!¡±

    Alam leaned back, arms crossed, his tone mocking. ¡°Oh really? So what¡¯s your real effort to unite China then?¡±

    William¡¯s voice grew firm. ¡°I¡¯ve fought tirelessly against your brutal rule! I¡¯m laying the groundwork for a peaceful future!¡±

    Alam chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°You¡¯re full of hot air. I recorded this conversation, by the way. Surrender or prepare for a watery grave v2. Think of the people, William.¡±

    ¡°I will not surrender!¡± William exclaimed, his voice steady. ¡°The Wanderer City is my home, and my people are my responsibility. We¡¯ll defend it with our lives!¡±

    Alam shrugged dismissively. ¡°You¡¯ve got one week to clear out. The depths of the sea show no mercy.¡±

    William¡¯s gaze hardened. ¡°If you think you can destroy the Wanderer City and expect us to surrender, you¡¯re sorely mistaken. We¡¯ll fight for our home! Your tyranny will not prevail!¡±

    Alam stood. ¡°You¡¯re no longer a Wanderer in my eyes. You¡¯re just a greedy, prideful rebel. Farewell, and may you swim well.¡±

    William¡¯s expression softened,. ¡°I may not always be a Wanderer, but I carry the spirit within me. Goodbye, Alam. I hope you come to see the error of your ways.¡±

    As the call with the Dragon Master fizzled out, Alam slumped back in his chair, the emotion weight down on him. ¡°I hope that¡¯s the last of the rebels in China,¡± he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. ¡°What do you think about him, Fang?¡±

    Fan, shrugged, her brow furrowed in contemplation. ¡°If I¡¯m completely honest, sir, I¡¯m not sure what to make of him. The Wanderer General¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop right there,¡± Alam interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°You can¡¯t call him that. He¡¯s not my general. He¡¯s a rebel.¡±

    Fang raised an eyebrow, unfazed. ¡°A rebel, yes, but a determined and defiant one. His willingness to fight for his beliefs could be dangerous.¡±

    Alam scoffed. ¡°Dangerous? hah. they hidding in underwater place. What do you suggest we do¡ªnegotiate with him?¡±

    ¡°Actually, yes,¡± Fang replied earnestly. ¡°I think William is a principled man. He might be open to reason and negotiation.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re kidding, right?¡± Alam shot back, incredulity dripping from his voice. ¡°You want to sit down for tea with the guy who just threatened to blow up all our plans?¡±

    Fang straightened, undeterred. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t view him as just a rebellious figure. He sees himself as a revolutionary, a savior. If we want to prevail, we need to understand Wanderer General perspective.¡±

    Alam clapped a hand to his forehead, exasperated. ¡°I said stop calling him the Wanderer General! He¡¯s just William!.¡±

    ¡°My apologies, sir,¡± Fang replied, a mix of confusion and concern on her face. ¡°But I still think we should regard him as a capable leader. Underestimating him would be a grave mistake.¡±

    Alam¡¯s patience wore thin. ¡°Please, stop with the ¡®capable leader¡¯ nonsense. You¡¯re making him sound like a distinguished politician instead of a rabble-rouser,¡± he snapped. ¡°You¡¯re driving me insane!¡±

    Fang tilted her head, trying to process Alam¡¯s whirlwind of emotions. ¡°I understand, sir. I will refrain from using the title. But you must remember, he sees himself as a crusader against oppression.¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Alam shouted, throwing his hands up in surrender. ¡°Just call him William.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. William it is!¡± Fang nodded, though a glimmer of amusement flickered in her eyes. ¡°But I stand by my position that he¡¯s a potential threat. We can¡¯t just sweep him under the rug.¡±

    Alam groaned, rubbing his temples. ¡°You know what, Fang? Just get out of my sight.¡± He sighed deeply. ¡°I miss Eleanor.¡± He pictured her blonde hair, a fleeting memory

    Fang¡¯s expression softened. ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯ll retire to my quarters. I miss her too; she was a good friend and comrade.¡±  As she turned to leave, Alam¡¯s voice stopped him.

    ¡°Wait, Fang¡­ you¡¯re not wrong. I mean, you¡¯re just¡­ you, not Eleanor. It¡¯s not your fault.¡±

    Fang paused, turning back, her brow furrowed in confusion. ¡°Yes, sir?¡±

    Alam, then pause, then waved a hand, dismissing the moment. ¡°Never mind. Have a nice day.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir. You as well.¡± Fang offered a small nod before trudging back to her quarters, the weight of regret heavy on her shoulders.

    Alam slumped back in his chair, the silence of the room amplifying the thoughts swirling in his head. Leadership, rebels, the weight of it all¡­ it was enough to make a man want to crawl under a rock. Or maybe just find a decent cup of coffee.

 Chapter 78 Beyond desire

    Nkosi woke to a golden cascade of sunlight. Birds chirped outside, oblivious to the world-altering events unfolding¡ªor perhaps just happy it was breakfast time. She stretched like a cat, a warm feeling spreading through her as she turned to Alam. ¡°Good morning, my beloved. Did you sleep well? Can I ask you something?¡±

    Alam, still caught between sleep and wakefulness, rubbed his eyes. ¡°Hmm? Yeah?¡±

    Nkosi leaned closer, a conspiratorial whisper in her voice. ¡°Yesterday¡­ during our¡­ intimate moment, you mentioned marriage. Were you serious, or was that just¡­ the heat of the moment?¡±

    A brief image of their passionate encounter flashed through Alam¡¯s mind. ¡°I was serious,¡± he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. ¡°After this war¡¯s over. Right now, we¡¯re a bit busy with, you know, saving the world.¡±

    Her eyes sparkled. ¡°So, when this is all done¡­ marriage? I like the sound of that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alam replied, a mix of excitement ¡°What do you think?¡±

    Nkosi¡¯s smile was radiant. ¡°I think it¡¯s wonderful. I¡¯ve never felt this way about anyone. You¡¯re charming, strong¡­ and ridiculously handsome.¡± She paused, a playful glint in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m ready for a life together. Once the war¡¯s behind us.¡±

    Alam leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. ¡°Good. Now, let¡¯s get this day started.¡±

    Nkosi blushed, a warm glow on her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a deeper, more passionate kiss.

    They broke apart, and Nkosi said, her voice soft, ¡°I love waking up like this. It feels¡­ real. Like we¡¯re building something.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alam said, trying for nonchalant but failing miserably. ¡°See you around.¡±

    Nkosi leaned in for a final, lingering kiss. ¡°Take care of yourself, my love. Don¡¯t let anything steal this joy.¡±

    Alam chuckled. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m glad I met you in the middle of all this. You keep me sane.¡±

    She laughed. ¡°Me too. This is¡­ special. I hope we can hold onto it. I want to be there for you through this madness.¡±

    Nkosi left for the war council room, her military attire accentuating her figure and radiating authority. She nodded to the assembled Crescent Alliance members and True Horde officers, her voice steady and commanding. ¡°Let¡¯s begin.¡±

    Nkosi left for the war council room, her military attire accentuating her figure and radiating authority. Alam watched her go, a smile lingering on his lips. The thought of a future with her was a welcome distraction from the grim realities of war. But the war couldn''t be ignored. He turned to the war table¡­

    The next day, Alam called his own war council, gathering his most trusted allies: Jax, Zhang, Baihu, and others. He cleared his throat, adopting a tone that screamed both authority and a touch of theatrical flair.

    ¡°Alright, gentlemen and brave women still following me! Some of you have fought with me since the beginning of our conquest in Central Asia, like Jax and Zhang. Others, like Baihu, have joined us along the way. The Crescent Alliance is helping us fight the Red Army¡ªour main enemy. But today, we face a different threat: the rebels.¡±

    He paused for dramatic effect, letting the tension build. ¡°The Flying Dragons are still alive and kicking! They¡¯ve got a secret dock in their underground city. Today, we¡¯ll make sure those dragons can¡¯t fly anymore... they¡¯ll be swimming instead! Heh.¡±

    ¡°Amen to that!¡± Baihu chimed in, his enthusiasm infectious. ¡°We¡¯ll crush this rebel threat and bring peace to all of China. No one opposes the True Horde and its leader ever again!¡±

    ¡°Precisely!¡± Alam nodded, his eyes gleaming with determination. ¡°And once this is done, we can finally focus on the Red Army and bring true peace to this land.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    The war council erupted in a fervent chorus of agreement. Nods, shouts of ¡°True Horde!¡± and the sound of armor and weapons clashing echoed through the room, a symphony of resolve.

    Alam leaned over the war table, his brow furrowed in concentration. ¡°Alright, everyone, calm down. We¡¯re not done yet.¡± He took a deep breath,. ¡°We already have a navy ready to deal with the Flying Dragons, but intel suggests they¡¯ve set up shop inside the city. They¡¯ve got a thousand people living there, along with a smorgasbord of gangs and cartels. My plan? We¡¯ll spread some delightful discontent among them and turn them against their leader,.¡±

    Baihu nodded sagely, his expression a mix of admiration and mischief. ¡°A wise strategy, sir. If we can sow discord, we can weaken their resistance and make them as vulnerable. By turning the people against him, we can divide their loyalty and create chaos. We¡¯ll conquer the city with minimal casualties and bring the Flying Dragon to its knees. It¡¯s a plan worthy of a war movie!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, all that¡¯s great,¡± Alam replied, scratching his chin. ¡°But we¡¯re talking about a dangerous covert operation here. With only one way in and out, this is going to be... tricky.¡± He sighed heavily,

    Baihu leaned in, his tone serious. ¡°Indeed, sir. Our covert operatives will need to contact the locals, spread disinformation, and stir the pot. It¡¯s risky, but necessary for our success. The operatives are trained for this kind of chaos, and with their grit, we¡¯ll manage to sow enough discord to weaken the rebel leadership.¡±

    Alam nodded slowly, the gears in his mind turning. ¡°But let¡¯s not forget¡ªI¡¯m a field soldier too. I know the risks involved for our troops. On the other hand, we¡¯ve got plenty of good old-fashioned bombs that can do the job from a safe distance.¡±

    ¡°You make a compelling point,¡± Baihu agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Bombing their stronghold would certainly create havoc and clear a path for our ground forces. It¡¯s a straightforward approach that would do some serious damage without putting our soldiers in the line of fire. But a covert operation could inflict psychological wounds that last longer than any bomb blast.¡±

    Alam scratched his head, feeling a touch indecisive. ¡°Tell you what. Let¡¯s take a vote. All generals in favor of the covert operation, raise your hands.¡±

    The response was immediate and divided. Half the members, including Jax, Zhang, Baihu, and Fang, enthusiastically raised their hands in favor of the covert approach.

    ¡°Ha! Damn it!¡± Alam exclaimed, his frustration palpable, A thousand people down there. Civilians. Could he justify risking their lives for a strategic advantage? But William had made his choice. He''d chosen defiance. Alam took a deep breath. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do both then. We¡¯ll initiate covert operations, and if that doesn¡¯t pan out, we¡¯ll blow them to pieces!¡±

    Baihu¡¯s face lit up with approval. ¡°Agreed, sir. We¡¯ll try the covert route first, and if it fails, we¡¯ll unleash our destructive side. It¡¯s a solid plan that minimizes risks while still pursuing our objectives.¡±

    Alam straightened, a newfound sense of purpose fueling him. ¡°Alright, form a special ops team for this mission. I want a small, elite group to support our agents inside that underwater city.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir! We¡¯ll assemble a specialized team to handle the covert operations and assist our agents. I¡¯ll handpick the best from our forces and equip them for the task.¡± Baihu was practically vibrating with excitement.

    ¡°Good. This battle will mark the end of all wars in this region. We will rise as the conquerors of China!¡± Alam declared, his eyes blazing with ambition.

    Baihu nodded vigorously. ¡°That¡¯s the plan, sir. With our victory, the Wanderer Group will be defeated, and the last threat to China¡¯s unity will be eliminated. We¡¯ll cement our status as the True Horde, and no one will dare oppose us again!¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. ¡°But remember, I¡¯m a Wanderer. We¡¯re part of the True Horde¡ªthe backbone of this entire operation. The Flying Dragons are just a bunch of pirates.¡±

    Baihu smirked back. ¡°You¡¯re right, sir. The Wanderer Group is integral to the True Horde, but it¡¯s become fragmented. William stubbornness poses a challenge. This fight is indeed a clash between the old and the new, tradition versus ambition.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Alam agreed, his voice steady. ¡°Any questions?¡±

    A brief pause enveloped the room as the council considered their roles in the impending chaos. No one spoke up; they were all ready to carry out the mission.

    ¡°Fang,¡± Alam said, glancing at her. ¡°Are you still hesitant?¡±

    Fang shook her head. ¡°No, sir. I¡¯m ready to commit to this plan. It¡¯s the right course of action.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Alam replied, a fierce determination in his voice. ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of a war. This land is harsh, and if we don¡¯t carry a sword, we¡¯re as good as dead. Never let anyone tell you we¡¯re evil. We¡¯re just trying to survive. This land is almost united. Remember that: we¡¯re not a group that takes advantage of war, playing both sides. We are the unifiers! If someone calls us ruthless, let them. They don¡¯t know the world we live in. We bring stability¡ªno more tribal warfare, no more old hatreds! Everyone united under one banner! For the True Horde!¡± Alam raised his sword high, his voice echoing with conviction.

    The war council erupted in a unified shout of ¡°True Horde!¡± as they raised their blades or pistols in solidarity. It was a moment of collective determination and fierce resolve.

    Later, as the dust settled, Alam¡¯s intercom crackled to life. its from croque

    ¡°Hi Alam! How are you doing today? The field test for the mud launcher prototype was a success! That¡¯s all for now, but I hope to talk to you again soon!¡±

    Alam rubbed his chin, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°Good... now I know how to deal with the Red Army. Just a little more...¡± He leaned back in his chair, plotting the next steps in a world where chaos and strategy danced dangerously close together.

 Chapter 79 Operation Spring Festival

    A few days later, the CAD team, already positioned within the underwater city, met with a cadre of special ops. ¡°Greetings, CAD team. We¡¯re here to assist in taking down the Flying Dragons,¡± one operator announced, his face grim. ¡°But understand this: if we fail to capture or eliminate their leader, the navy will level this entire city.¡±

    Mei raised an eyebrow. ¡°So, total annihilation is the backup plan?¡±

    ¡°Precisely,¡± the operator confirmed, projecting a map of the underwater city onto a nearby wall. ¡°William, their leader, is holed up in a central dome. Intel suggests he¡¯s taken Alam¡¯s bait and made contact.¡±

    The CAD team exchanged surprised glances.

    ¡°We know you¡¯re the True Horde¡¯s best,¡± the operator continued. ¡°We¡¯ll be taking orders from you.¡±

    A sense of anticipation filled the air. Vance stepped forward. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s get to it. The city¡¯s hosting a Spring Festival soon. Security will be lax¡ªperfect timing.¡±

    Mei smiled. ¡°A festival. We¡¯ll have the element of surprise.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll also gather more intel and study the city layout,¡± Vance added. ¡°No room for error.¡±

    As the Spring Festival arrived, the underwater city went all-out. It was a crazy mix of every local culture crammed together and tweaked for underwater living. Instead of fireworks and lanterns, they had these crazy drone and hologram displays¡ªgiant, shimmering fish and dragons weaving between the buildings, their scales catching the neon light that painted the murky water in wild, vibrant hues.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± Vance remarked, eyeing the lively atmosphere.

    ¡°But it¡¯s all a fa?ade,¡± Mei said, a hint of sadness in her voice. ¡°It¡¯s a shame it¡¯s just a pretense.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s move,¡± Vance commanded, and the team split up, each unit assigned different tasks to prepare for their operation.

    They swiftly subduing guards and infiltrating deeper into the base. Razor expertly disabled cameras and locked doors, allowing them to remain undetected.

    ¡°Alright, this is it,¡± Vance whispered as they reached the dome area. ¡°Eyes peeled.¡±

    The team nodded, the air thick with tension. They slipped into the dome hall, their silenced weapons held ready. An operator, quick as a cat, vaulted over the reception desk. ¡°Only one way into the main office¡ªthat elevator.¡±

    A massive, chrome elevator dominated the center of the dome, its sleek surface reflecting the distorted neon lights. It looked more like a high-end aquarium than a lift.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Vance asked, his eyes scanning the team.

    They all gave a thumbs-up, adrenaline buzzing in their veins. Just then, the elevator lights flickered on, a low hum signaling its descent and the constant whooshing of water pumps

    ¡°Guns up!¡± Vance hissed, and the team¡¯s weapons snapped towards the elevator doors.

    The doors slid open with a soft whoosh, revealing a couple of slick-looking gang members in sharp suits and an older man in traditional robes, their eyes wide with surprise, like they¡¯d just walked into a very awkward party.

    ¡°What in the blazes¡­?¡± the old man sputtered.

    ¡°Drop your weapons!¡± Vance yelled. But before he could even blink, the suited goons were already reaching inside their jackets.

    The CAD team reacted instantly. A flurry of silenced gunfire ripped through the air, the soft thwips echoing in the dome. Some of the gang members crumpled to the ground, others dove for cover, scrambling behind potted plants and decorative pillars.

    ¡°Damn it, we¡¯re blown!¡± Vance shouted, realizing they couldn¡¯t stay a second longer.

    They retreated from the dome hall, blending back into the chaos of the festival. After a tense few hours spent dodging security patrols and blending with the celebrating crowds, they finally regrouped at their apartment HQ, a wave of relief washing over them.

    ¡°Phew¡­ no casualties, but mission¡­ well, let¡¯s call it a partial failure,¡± Vance said, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.

    Mei sighed, disappointed but grateful they were back safe. ¡°What¡¯s next? Do we leave the city?¡±

    The operator glanced at her. ¡°What about the civilians? Our naval forces will bombard this place.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Mei replied. ¡°They might be evacuating to higher ground. The city will only be destroyed if the navy acts against the Flying Dragons. Since we¡¯re back, it means their leader is still alive.¡±

    Razor, still fixated on his monitor, suddenly spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ve been analyzing the city map. The dome area resembles a prison, but there¡¯s another exit leading out to the sea.¡±

    Vance looked at his teammates, realization dawning. ¡°That dome might be a lobby for pirate transactions. If we attack, their leader could escape.¡±

    ¡°We need to inform base to hold the navy attack,¡± Vance instructed. ¡°We can¡¯t let the leader slip away.¡±

    Mei nodded, agreeing with the urgency of the situation. ¡°We must find a way to lure him out.¡±

    ¡°Any ideas?¡± Vance asked.

    Mei thought carefully. ¡°If we create a situation that makes us look vulnerable, he might take the bait.¡±

    ¡°You want to use us as a decoy?¡± the operator asked incredulously.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Mei confirmed. ¡°If he sees us as an easy target, he¡¯ll come out.¡±

    Vance frowned, considering the risks. ¡°That¡¯s a drastic measure, especially since we¡¯re outnumbered.¡±

    But with the Flying Dragons still lurking, the CAD team  knew they had to act decisively. The stakes were high, but they were ready for whatever came next.

    Mei agreed with Vance. It was a drastic move, no doubt, and seriously risky. But if it worked, the payoff would be huge. Sometimes you had to roll the dice to win big.

    After a long pause, Vance said, ¡°Alright. We¡¯ll set the bait near one of the city¡¯s main entrances. That way, if things go sideways, we can make a quick getaway.¡±

    The CAD team gathered in a dusty, cavernous space that had once been a parking garage. But with the underwater city¡¯s population booming, the streets above had become a dense thicket of buildings, making cars obsolete.

    The garage, already a bit of a dump, had been abandoned¡ªnow, it was the perfect spot for their ambush. The concrete floor was cracked and littered with debris, and faint, echoing drips of water punctuated the silence.

    ¡°This¡¯ll do nicely,¡± Mei declared, surveying the space. ¡°The Flying Dragons won¡¯t see this coming.¡±

    Vance rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Now, how do we get their attention?¡±

    Mei considered it for a moment. ¡°We make some noise. A few well-placed gunshots, maybe a couple of small explosions. That should definitely pique their interest.¡±

    ¡°I like it,¡± Vance replied, nodding. ¡°The other teams can spread out and flank them when they take the bait.¡±

    Mei agreed, a thrill of anticipation running through her. The trap was set, the plan was in motion, and a surge of confidence coursed through them.

    The day after the Spring Festival, the CAD team put their plan into action. They fired a volley of shots into the murky water above, the muffled reports echoing through the underwater city. Then, they detonated a few small explosives, the concussions sending vibrations through the concrete and sending startled fish scattering.

    To add a bit of extra flair, they set off some leftover fireworks from the festival. The colorful bursts lit up the water above, casting dancing shadows on the buildings below and drawing curious onlookers. Some residents grumbled about the noise, others blamed the already-stretched-thin city guards, but most simply watched from a safe distance, thoroughly intrigued.

    ¡°Now we just gotta hope they take the bait,¡± Vance said, watching the unfolding chaos on the monitors.

    The team remained vigilant, their eyes glued to the feeds from their hidden cameras. Soon enough, they spotted the Flying Dragon leader and his entourage making a beeline for their location. The gang leader, easily identifiable by his signature half-mask and graying hair, swaggered forward with an air of arrogant confidence.

    ¡°There he is!¡± Vance exclaimed, pointing at the screen. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Adrenaline surged through the team as they prepared for the final act.

    As the gang members approached the garage, the CAD team sprang their trap. They quickly and quietly took down the handful of guards stationed around the perimeter. Then, they activated the garage¡¯s old sprinkler system, drenching the approaching gang members in a sudden downpour before zapping them with well-aimed taser shots. The scene quickly devolved into a chaotic mess of sputtering thugs and flashing electricity.

    ¡°Target neutralized! Grab him!¡± Vance shouted as Mei darted forward, grabbing the disoriented leader and securing him in a firm hold.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here!¡± Vance yelled, urgency lacing his voice.

    The team made their escape through the underwater city, adrenaline still pumping as they navigated the maze of streets and buildings. Once they were safely back at their base, Vance received the confirmation.

    ¡°We got him,¡± he announced, a wide grin spreading across his face. ¡°Alive. Alam¡¯s gonna love this.¡±

    Later, in a dimly lit prison cell, Alam prepared for his interrogation. He expected a furious rebel leader, but instead found William¡ªcalm and composed, a cold stare fixed on him.

    ¡°Greetings, Mask Dude. Nice suit, by the way,¡± Alam quipped, earning a blank stare from William.

    ¡°I heard my men captured you after the festival. Unexpected, right?¡± Alam continued, taking a seat across from him.

    William remained silent, his expression unchanging.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see that scar of yours,¡± Alam said, pulling off William''s half-mask without resistance. A faint scar ran down William''s cheek, but he showed no signs of discomfort.

    ¡°Not too bad,¡± Alam remarked, he then remove his leather jacket, A jagged, pale scar, like a lightning strike frozen on his skin, ran diagonally across his back. ¡°I got this in Europe. You see, I was a pirate once too.¡±

    William¡¯s eyes widened slightly, showing a flicker of interest.

    ¡°I raided ships, enslave people, smuggled people, attacked forts,¡± Alam elaborated, leaning back in his chair. ¡°I was young and stupid, chasing thrills without a care for the consequences.¡±

    William¡¯s gaze softened as he processed Alam¡¯s words.

    ¡°But I changed. That¡¯s why I despise pirates now. I know their ways because I was once one of them. So tell me, what do you want? An easy death or the chance for redemption?¡±

    William took a moment before responding, his voice steady. ¡°I have no desire for an easy death. I want to fight, to redeem myself. I will face whatever punishment comes.¡±

    Alam Sniff ¡°Alright, Li. But you¡¯ll serve time for your rebellion first,¡± he said, leaning closer. ¡°You know the drill.¡±

    William nodded, his expression revealing a hint of remorse.

    ¡°So...?¡± Alam prompted.

    William sat silently for a few seconds, then spoke with quiet resignation. ¡°I accept my fate.¡±

    ¡°Good. You should thank my spec ops for sparing your city. Until next time, farewell.¡±

    William nodded slightly, his voice calm yet determined. ¡°Yes, I must thank them. Goodbye.¡±

    As Alam exited the cell, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this encounter was just the beginning of a much larger game, flying dragon is linked to blue nation. that is how they manage to survive so long. alam intertwined his finger. its was complicated situation. blue nation is..our kinda ally in this war against red nation. alam then rub his chin. well nevermind. i will blow them up too if they attack me.

    In a bustling newsroom, neon lights sparkled against the backdrop of a vibrant cityscape. The camera zoomed in on a reporter, her sharp power suit reflecting the pulse of the urban jungle.

    ¡°Good evening, folks!¡± she exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face. ¡°Witty World News here, live from the streets of a reunified China, where power plays like Peking duck during the Spring Festival! And who¡¯s the roast duck in question? None other than Alam, fresh off uniting this land under the True Horde Confederacy banner. Talk about your wok wok wow!¡±

    The scene shifted to Alam, a charismatic figure with piercing eyes, confidently striding through throngs of cheering citizens, his presence electrifying the atmosphere.

    ¡°One month, folks,¡± the reporter continued, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Just one month! That¡¯s all it took for Alam to go from warlord extraordinaire to the top dog of a billion-strong nation. Diplomacy? He sprinkled that like soy sauce on negotiations with the Xian remnants. War? Oh honey, he sent the Flying Dragons packing faster than a rogue noodle from a hot pan!¡±

    The camera cut to Alam engaged in a heated discussion with a Xian official, his charisma as palpable as the tension in the air.

    ¡°Now, I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡± the reporter said, leaning closer to the camera. ¡°Is Alam the real deal or just another kung fu fighting rooster ready to stir-fry the whole country? Buckle up, dumplings, because this ain¡¯t your grandma¡¯s dynasty!

    Alam¡¯s got vision, folks! He¡¯s promising high-speed maglev trains that¡¯ll make travel between Beijing and Ukraine faster than a greased lightning bolt, and his nanobot factories are churning out everything from self-repairing roads to personalized nutrient paste! Dude makes Zuckerberg look like he¡¯s still using a rotary phone

    The scene shifted again, showcasing Alam unveiling blueprints for high-speed trains that would connect Central Asia to China, his enthusiasm infectious.

    ¡°But let¡¯s be real, folks,¡± the reporter continued, her tone shifting to a more serious note. ¡°Power is a seductive dragon, and even the wisest emperors can get singed by its breath. Will Alam rule with an iron wok or a gentle stir-fry? Only time, and maybe a steaming plate of dumplings, will tell. One thing''s for sure: this ain¡¯t your average history lesson. China¡¯s reunited, folks, and the wok¡¯s in Alam¡¯s hand! So tune in next week to see if he cooks up a golden age or ends up with egg on his face. This is Witty, signing off. Remember: keep calm and wok on!¡±

    Meanwhile, in a cozy nook of their HQ, Mei and the CAD team  huddled around a screen, their eyes glued to Alam¡¯s triumph.

    ¡°It¡¯s a victory for all!¡± Vance declared, taking a triumphant sip of his drink. ¡°With this, no one dares to attack us¡ªnot even the Red Nations!¡±

    Mei nodded, feeling a swell of pride. This was a win for the CAD team , solidifying their reputation while driving the Red Nations into retreat.

    ¡°I wonder what happens to the underwater city now that the Flying Dragons are gone,¡± Vance mused, a glint of mischief in his eye. ¡°Will it be abandoned?¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± Mei replied thoughtfully. ¡°Without their protection, it won¡¯t be livable. The residents will likely leave.¡±

    ¡°What a waste!¡± Vance exclaimed, his imagination running wild. ¡°If they¡¯re selling it, I might just buy it and turn it into a theme park! Hehe!¡±

    Mei couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the absurdity of Vance¡¯s idea, picturing roller coasters and cotton candy in a once-menacing underwater fortress. ¡°You¡¯re incorrigible, Vance.¡±

 Chapter 80 Cotton Candy Operation

    Meanwhile, over in North America, Weaver was deep in strategy mode with the Wardogs, orchestrating the gladiator rebellion against the Red Nation. The rebels were picking up steam, taking over military bases and knocking off key officials¡ªthis uprising was becoming unstoppable. The grid Colosseum and other arenas had turned into brutal battlegrounds, showcasing some truly unspeakable chaos as the gladiators unleashed their fury.

    ¡°Is this what you wanted, sir?¡± Kassandra asked, her voice a mix of excitement and uncertainty as she reported to Zion.

    Zion smirked, clearly enjoying the chaos unfolding. ¡°Excellent news, Kassandra! The rebellion is gaining momentum, and the Red Nation¡¯s forces are stretched thin. My plan to use Alam as a scapegoat is working perfectly!¡±

    ¡°But what¡¯s the big plan?¡± Kassandra pressed, a frown creasing her brow.

    ¡°Ah, I haven¡¯t revealed the grand finale yet,¡± Zion replied, his grin widening. ¡°Once the uprising is in full swing and the Red Nation is in disarray, Alam will play a significant role.¡±

    Kassandra raised an eyebrow, still unsure about the unfolding plot. ¡°Many of our agents were captured by the True Horde. They failed to eliminate the warlord who¡¯s flocking to Alam''s banner.¡±

    Zion¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°It¡¯s unfortunate, but Alam is ruthless. He¡¯ll handle it.¡±

    ¡°And the Crescent Alliance¡¯s main force has arrived, nearly matching the Red Army¡¯s numbers¡ªabout 2 to 3 million,¡± Kassandra added, her voice tense.

    Zion¡¯s demeanor hardened as he processed the information. ¡°We need to prepare for a clash. Our forces must be disciplined and ready.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s the endgame for our rebellion against our own officials?¡± Kassandra asked, skepticism creeping into her tone.

    Zion took a deep breath, ready to unveil his plans. ¡°The rebellion isn¡¯t just about freedom; it¡¯s about dismantling the Red Nation entirely.¡±

    Gasps filled the room, shock rippling through the officers, except for the Wardogs, who nodded in agreement. ¡°Once I gain control, I¡¯ll establish a stable government focused on peace and prosperity. We¡¯ll pursue diplomatic relations to ensure regional stability,¡± Zion declared, his confidence radiating like a beacon.

    Weaver nodded, impressed. ¡°But reforming won¡¯t be easy without dismantling existing power structures.¡±

    Zion¡¯s grin returned, determination shining through. ¡°Dismantling those structures will be tough, but I¡¯m all in for creating a better future. The potential gains outweigh the challenges.¡±

    ¡°And what about the Crescent Alliance and True Horde?¡± Kassandra questioned. ¡°They won¡¯t just stop attacking us because we change our government.¡±

    Trickster chuckled ¡°yeah. they not like going to stop because. upsy daisy, red nation is no more now. no more nation. dont stop attacking because we are the new government¡±

    Zion¡¯s confidence was unwavering. ¡°I understand your concerns,¡± he told Weaver. ¡°Changing the government doesn¡¯t guarantee peace. But with the right¡­ incentives, we can negotiate a mutually beneficial settlement.¡±

    Weaver smirked. ¡°Indeed. Diplomacy avoids bloodshed. And with the concept of ¡®nation¡¯¡­ well, gone, our next conquests become¡­ humanitarian interventions. A united world. A true holy war.¡±

    Zion leaned back, a plan forming in his mind. The game is afoot. Every conquest needed a justification, a grand narrative. Leaders couldn¡¯t simply invade without a pretext; people would resist. Zion¡¯s plan was to dismantle the Red Nation and rebuild it in his image, framing his power grab as a necessary step towards a better future.

    Later, after the gladiatorial games and the orchestrated outpouring of public anger against the old regime, Zion paraded through the streets, casting himself as the savior.

    ¡°People of the Free World!¡± he declared, his voice amplified across the city. ¡°These corrupt officials bled us dry! They sent our ancestors to die in endless overseas wars! They promised social mobility, but inherited their wealth from their fathers! Today, true reform begins! Today, I break your chains!¡±

    He raised his axe, beheading the last remaining government official in the arena. The crowd roared. Few understood that Zion had been a key architect of the very system he now condemned. He was merely shifting the blame, positioning himself as the liberator.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    In the grand colosseum, before a cheering throng, Zion raised his arms. ¡°Citizens of the Free World! Today, we celebrate strength and ambition! Here, the weak will fall, and the strong will rise! Join me in forging a new order!¡±

    The crowd erupted. Zion had masterfully manipulated their emotions, turning their anger and frustration into fervent support. This also allowed him to reshuffle his cabinet, replacing his old, unreliable vassals with loyal followers ¨C killing three birds with one stone.

    Among the Amazonian Praetorian Guard, Nara watched Zion¡¯s performance, disbelief etched on her face. The people of the Free World were blind to the truth. From her vantage point, she saw the manipulation, the lies, the calculated rise of a new tyrant. The weight of this knowledge pressed down on her.

    With his political rivals out of the way, he seized their assets and properties, consolidating his newfound power. He swiftly blacklisted any potential threats, cutting off their economic lifelines and forbidding them from trading. His message was crystal clear: no opposition allowed. Sure, capitalism promotes competition, but true capitalists only compete when victory is assured. Otherwise, they act like any good authoritarian government, blocking rivals at every turn.

    Next on his agenda? The prisoners. In the Free World, prison culture was a grim reality, even before the ww3. Street kids were incentivized to commit petty crimes, forced into a life of lawlessness just to survive. Society turned a blind eye to the neglected, leaving them with no choice but to break the law for food. Once captured, they were thrown into prison factories, becoming forced laborers. Growing up in such harsh environments left them disillusioned.

    But Zion had a plan. With his revolutionary card, he approached these individuals, offering them a chance to join his military. With nothing to lose and no one to return to, they agreed, ready to fight for a cause that promised them a new life.

    After the successful revolution, Zion¡¯s base had shifted from California to Canada, perched on the edge of a cliff that once belonged to an unknown billionaire. He was preparing for the impending World War IV, eyes fixed on the endless convoy crossing the bridge connecting Asia and America. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, and Zion seemed to thrive in it.

    Just then, a cloaked woman approached him. Her striking green eyes, a result of implants, glinted with determination. It was Viper, a fellow Praetorian Guard who had recently risen through the ranks after winning a bloody arena tournament.

    ¡°My Siberian Vanguard is ready to move,¡± Viper announced, her voice steady. ¡°We¡¯ll wait until you clear our path with your cannon.¡±

    Zion¡¯s grin widened at the mention of the stratocannon. ¡°Excellent! The cannon is deployed and clearing the way. Once we have a clear path, we¡¯ll strike at the heart of the enemy¡¯s weak points.¡±

    ¡°Are we doing a pincer move?¡± Kassandra chimed in, her brow furrowed with focus.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Zion replied decisively. ¡°The Siberian Vanguard will attack from the north while the Wardogs spearhead the offensive from the south. This should exploit their defenses and secure a quick victory.¡±

    The Wardogs nodded, their spirits high and ready to turn the tide of war.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not waste any time,¡± Weaver urged. ¡°Prepare to move on my command. We¡¯ll execute this pincer maneuver perfectly and claim victory.¡±

    With that, Viper left the room, passing by Nara, who was off duty. Viper stopped in front of her, a smirk playing on her lips. ¡°You fought well in the last game. Why not become an officer like me, Nara? Why stick to being a useless bodyguard?¡±

    Nara avoided her gaze, feeling the sting of Viper¡¯s words. Viper laughed, a sound that echoed in the tense air. ¡°Hah, never mind,¡± she said, leaving Nara alone with her thoughts.

    Nara contemplated Viper¡¯s taunt. The world felt like a whirlwind of chaos, and she was unsure of her place in it. She turned her attention to the monitor displaying a world map, animated with the Red Army¡¯s movements as they sought to civilize the globe. Zion, Kassandra, and other figures of the Free World flashed across the screen.

    She grasped the emblem patch on her shoulder, pulling it from her uniform. Maybe Viper was right. For someone like Zion, being just a bodyguard wasn¡¯t enough to catch his attention. Since joining the Amazons, he hadn¡¯t spoken to her at all. Perhaps if she became an officer like Panji, she could finally earn the recognition and attention  she craved in the upcoming war.

    With renewed determination, Nara resolved to prove herself. she walk toward the recruitment room, The chaos around her might be overwhelming, but she was ready to carve her own path and fight for her place in this new world.

    Back in Northern China, the battlefield was a chaotic spectacle as the Crescent Alliance clashed with the Red Army. The scale of the conflict was massive and brutal. The revolution brewing in the Free World remained largely unknown to the Red Army soldiers on the front lines, their information heavily censored.

    On one side, the Yellow Nation¡¯s tanks faced off against the Red Army¡¯s Buffalo tanks, two titans colliding like giants swinging frying pans until one of them exploded in a fiery display. Meanwhile, the Purple Nation¡¯s gliders engaged in aerial dogfights with Red Army jets, creating a scene reminiscent of bees swarming a group of unsuspecting ducks, all at breakneck speed.

    The two forces crashed together like tsunamis, and the death toll skyrocketed into the thousands within mere hours. White Nation Ai mechs charged onto the battlefield, attempting to flank the Red Army, but they were met head-on by Red Army gladiators equipped with implants, ready to intercept any threat.

    In the chaos, a brigade of jetpack troops from the Pink Nation soared through the air, only to be met with flanking cannon fire. As they unleashed rockets and grenades, the firefight intensified, raising the temperature on the battlefield as explosions and fires consumed the wreckage around them.

    The map of the region now resembled a patchwork of territories: the True Horde and Crescent Alliance held sway over modern-day China, while the Red Army dominated Mongolia and Siberia.

    Bora observed the battle from a distance, her eyes glued to the holographic map displayed on her arm¡¯s intercom. She was trying to process the unfolding situation, where both sides maneuvered like pieces on a chessboard, but with more than just two players involved.

    Shaking her head at the scale of the slaughter, Bora couldn¡¯t help but wonder why Alam was merely sitting back, seemingly doing nothing. A nagging thought crossed her mind¡ªcould Alam be considering a shift in allegiance as the Free World underwent its revolution? But her musings were interrupted when Li, one of the Wanderers, approached her position, joining her ranks to bolster the elite monk warriors. His presence was a clear indication that Alam remained committed to the war, even if he was currently a bystander due to the truce with Zion.

    As the battle raged on, the neutral NWC¡ªthe black, orange and green nations, they watched the carnage unfold without picking a side. The Green Nation secretly sold weapons to the Crescent Alliance while sending mercenaries to the Red Army, all while hesitating to show their true colors. Meanwhile at tropic region orange nation are in civil war. both side is fight over the art and faith, people literally fight because a matter of taste and vibe.

    and jump to middle east, scholars from the Black Nation debated which side to support, but instead of focusing on the war, they got sidetracked discussing old movies and games, weighing their merits from pre war era and philosophizing of why war its happen right now.

    Only a few scholars dared to address the conflict in the media, questioning whether this was officially World War IV or just another unimportant war in history. But for the soldiers on the front lines, it was clear: this was indeed a world war. african and european fight shoulder to shoulder against asian-american foe in mongol steppes

 Chapter 81 The Mad Dragon

    Chapter 81 The Mad Dragon

    The True Horde had numbers, but most were just farm boys¡ªmore familiar with anime pillows and game boys than rifles. This was General Ali¡¯s problem. A former tribal warlord turned drill sergeant, Ali believed in a harsh but effective training regimen: martial arts and firsthand experience in live combat. ¡°These guys have the IQ of a lukewarm bath,¡± he¡¯d joke, ¡°but that¡¯s perfect, because they actually listen.¡±

    Ali watched the ragged line of recruits attempt a drill. "Good enough," he muttered, turning to a nearby officer. A wry grin spread across his face. "You know, the Romans liked recruiting¡­ let''s just say, simple men for their legions. Easy to train, easier to obey."

    The officer, a wiry man with perpetually furrowed brows, looked at Ali with a flicker of curiosity. "Really? Where do you learn all this stuff?"

    Ali shrugged, his grin widening. "I have a deep distrust of¡­ well, most people. Especially women."

    The sounds of battle soon drowned out their conversation. red army start break the truce!. Gunfire and explosions filled the air. Then, the Red Army played their trump card: a thick, artificial fog rolled across the battlefield, a technological shroud to mask their advance.

    The fog intensified the Red Army''s assault. Duc, armed with a rapid-fire Gatling gun, cut down waves of True Horde soldiers. Alexis, a skilled sniper with advanced night vision, moved like a ghost, silently eliminating enemy soldiers and even capturing a trench single-handedly. The fog turned the battlefield into a disorienting maze. Datong, the coalition¡¯s last major stronghold in Northern China, was on the verge of falling.

    Ali, knowing Datong¡¯s strategic importance, had taken command of the defense. He relied on his core of True Horde officers and his own advanced exosuit. But the city''s defenses were stretched thin. The fog had tipped the scales. Ali and his hastily assembled peasant army were all that stood between the Red Army and total victory in the north. They had to hold until reinforcements arrived.

    The initial defense was fierce, fueled by adrenaline. But as casualties mounted, fear took hold of the peasant soldiers. Many cowered in their positions, barely daring to peek over the trench walls, rifles trembling.

    Seeing their morale crumbling, Ali leaped into the open, his voice booming across the battlefield. " Seeing their morale crumbling, Ali leaped into the open, his voice booming across the battlefield. "Come on, you lot! Is that all you''ve got? Show them what you''re made of! Remember, we¡¯re fighting for¡­ uh¡­ noodles! And not having to do paperwork!"

    Inspired by his outburst, a handful of braver recruits joined Ali as he charged into the swirling fog to retake a lost trench. The fighting inside the fog was brutal, close-quarters combat¡ªa chaotic dance of blades and bullets in near-blindness. Ali¡¯s unorthodox style shone here. A figure on horseback¡ªalmost impossible in trench warfare¡ªburst from the fog, leaping over the trenches, drawing gasps from both sides.

    Perched on his horse, Ali became a whirlwind, cutting down enemies and hurling grenades. Slowly, he pushed back the Red Army advance, a small victory that rallied more of his men.

    Meanwhile, Alexis, the Red Army sniper, used her thermal goggles to hunt targets in the fog. But Ali, in a desperate move, grabbed a discarded enemy rifle and shot her. A surge of grim satisfaction washed over him.

    His triumph was short-lived. Out of the fog emerged Duc, his Gatling gun spitting a hail of bullets. The heavy rounds tore into Ali''s exosuit, sending sparks flying and momentarily crippling his movement.

    Despite the devastating attack, Ali remained focused. Realizing the situation was untenable, he barked out orders for an organized retreat, ensuring the peasant army''s withdrawal wouldn''t devolve into a panicked rout

    His efforts to inspire them, even in defeat, would prove crucial in the desperate fight to come. As the last of Ali¡¯s forces fell back, the long-awaited coalition reinforcements finally arrived, engaging Duc¡¯s forces and halting the Red Army''s advance. The Datong front descended into a bloody stalemate.

    In an isolated office in snowy Manchuria, the atmosphere was thick with tension and the faint scent of stale coffee. Panji walk into office, eyeing the khagan officer across the desk with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. ¡°Why do you have carpet on the wall?¡± he asked, gesturing toward the carpet just hanging there. His gaze then drifted to the red Soviet flag with hammer and sickle hanging on the opposite wall. ¡°I think there¡¯s a Soviet sleeper cell in here.¡±

    then he look at the weapon collection on display. ¡°now that¡¯s cool.. you now start become a american heh?¡±

    The khagan officer rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. ¡°Stop messing around. Do you know why I called you here today?¡±

    Panji lowered his red shades, feigning innocence. ¡°Nope.¡±

    A sly smile crept across the officer¡¯s face. ¡°You¡¯re part of a rebellion movement, and it¡¯s time for you to go sleep in a cell.¡±

    At that moment, two khaganate soldiers entered the room, handcuffs and weapons at the ready. Panji glanced at them, then turned back to the officer. ¡°You made a mistake.¡±

    The officer laughed, a sound that echoed ominously in the small room. ¡°You¡¯re just a stepping stone in a larger game. Boys, get him!¡±

    In a flash, Panji spun around, drawing his pistol with the finesse of a seasoned gunslinger. He fired two quick shots, taking down the soldiers before they could react. With a smirk, he turned back to the officer¡¯s desk, he is just dissapear . but then he popping out from his desk with his shotgun

    A sharp pain shot through Panji¡¯s shoulder as a shotgun shell grazed him, but he didn¡¯t let it slow him down. He fired again, this time hitting the officer square in the chest. The man crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

    Panting, Panji took a moment to catch his breath. His eyes fell on a document sprawled across the desk, detailing the annexation of the Blood Khaganate to the Red Nation and the impending red revolution. The words leaped out at him, and he clenched the paper tightly. ¡°Damn¡­ it¡¯s started.¡±

    he then heard to loud sound in outside. a probably a khagan backup. he then quickly barricade himself in office. and put all weapon in showcase reloaded and put it at windows.

    but then its turn out its was panji soldier who clueless about the situation, panji then order them to fortified the office.

    then the phone of dead khagan officer got a call from kassandra , panji then answer it¡±hello?¡± Panji said his tone is soft while he still half confuse. kassandra notice his sound, ¡°still alive? impressive.. but i know its will happen¡± kassandra said her tone is amuse.

    ¡°what the fuck is this?,,,you said you will backup me till regime change!¡± Panji shout

    ¡°heh. im sorry honey.. politic indeed a mess.. thing i can do is betray my own word.. its not my fault.. your popularity is too hard to cant be notice.so i hope you rest in peace¡± kassandra then end up the call. then a helicopter rain down the office

    ¡°fuck.. they truly wanna me dead huh?¡± Panji said while lower his head from commotion.

    later. a apc arrive then start shooting while their khaganate warrior dismount from its rear.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°do you wanna equal distribution? here the equal bullet!¡± Panji said while return fire, while moving to windows to windows,

    gunfire lasted till half a hour. half of office building is destroyed. and few Panji soldier left. until the armored apc just slam the office wall. and make khaganate soldier pour in,

    then amid the rubble. panji make a complicated hand sign.

    phe soldier dont know what the heck the sign it is. but they are long enough to understand if they should just nod along. later panji then rise up from his cover and start gunblazing. now soldier know if that complicated hand  sign is about shot anything its move

    then amid the once office. become a ruins. among the the ruin. Panji still stood behind ruins. he and his men is bloodied from wound, he tend their wound with anything they got.

    one soldier scream ¡°aghh. they shot me in prostrate..¡±

    Panji ¡° i dont know. i will inject you with Estrogen¡±

    the soldier like just surrender  with his condition ¡° dang. you run out the morphine then turn out with estrogen? great I¡¯m gonna bleed out and grow boobs? ¡±

    The battle raged on outside, the khaganate soldier now surround the building.

    ¡°i think we fuck up. but its all ancording to plan.¡± one khaganate officer still confident on the situation. because he think he will capture Panji soon, instead kill him. which will make him rank up soon.

    Strutted around behind an armored vehicle, He raised a speaker, and the gunfire momentarily paused.

    ¡°surrender now panji.. there is no way out!¡±

    Panji then reload his rocket, then one Panji soldier speak on radio

    ¡°they had all eyes on all side¡±

    Panji then speak ¡° the only thing they see is will rocket to their face. ¡°

    then he aim on the officer armored vehicle. then take a shot. then boom.

    Panji then laugh. ¡°hahah!. you cant defeat me you fools.. im undefeatable!. you cant kill me!¡± Panji erupted into laughter, the sound echoing through the ruins

    the khaganate soldier who already surround the building is shaken, they just peek from their cover. and not return the fire. until one sniper. using a thermal scope who can see trhough wall. on his scope. he can see panji heat. a man on open arms while holding rocket launcer in one room.

    then he take a shot. panji laugh then stop when a bullet struck on his neck. he then collapse.. then die.

    Late February 2405 brought a stark contrast to the steppes of Mongolia, where the remnants of a bloody winter war lingered. The ground was mostly bare, punctuated by patches of golden dry grass, while skeletal trees stood like silent sentinels against the vastness.

    The season had shifted to spring, but the earth still bore the chill of winter. Strong winds whipped across the open plains, sending shivers down spines and stirring the dry, brown soil.

    Hazel Division was holding strong, bolstered by steady reinforcements, but the arrival of the Crescent Alliance army had forced the Red Army to make a strategic retreat and wait for american army group reinforcement.

    As the Red soldiers moved, they were met with a gruesome sight: mutilated bodies lining the roads, their corpses spiked with signs reading, ¡°Traitors of the Red Army.¡± The sight was disturbing, sending a wave of unease through the ranks.

    ¡°Are those really traitors, Patrick?¡± Hazel asked, grimacing at the sight.

    ¡°I... I don¡¯t really know,¡± Patrick replied, his voice shaky. ¡°I heard some in the Red Army turned their backs and joined the enemy. The punishment? Brutal. It¡¯s meant to instill fear.¡±

    Hazel nodded solemnly, the weight of war heavy on her shoulders. They continued their journey toward the nearest city, bracing for whatever lay ahead. Upon reaching the city gates, they were greeted by a chilling sight: the head of a fallen Panji hanging like a grisly trophy,

    After resupplying in the city, Hazel and Patrick decided to unwind at a nearby bar. The atmosphere inside was surprisingly relaxed, with Red Army officers sharing drinks and laughter, trying to escape the oppressive weight of war. But beneath the surface, a tension simmered.

    A group huddled in a corner, their voices hushed. ¡°Did you hear about Petrov¡¯s unit?¡± one whispered. ¡°Wiped out. Every last one of them.¡± Another shook his head. ¡°They said it was a surprise attack. But I heard¡­¡± He trailed off, glancing around nervously.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the deal with those bodies at the city gate?¡± Hazel asked a nearby officer, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Those were the traitors,¡± the officer replied, his tone serious. ¡°They joined the enemy and paid the price. It¡¯s a brutal warning to anyone thinking of switching sides. we will parade their head across the land¡±

    Hazel felt the gravity of the words. ¡°So, the enemy did this?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± the officer confirmed. ¡°This is their way of instilling fear. We mustn¡¯t betray our own. To survive, we fight for our people.¡±

    Two weeks later, the Red Army took up defensive positions, the Crescent Alliance steadily advancing in Mongolia and Manchuria. Alam, fresh from his triumph over the last rebel stronghold in China, joined the Crescent Alliance forces.

    One day, he visited their command center.

    ¡°Greetings,¡± Alam said, his presence commanding attention.

    Nkosi, dressed in military uniform adorned with medals, smiled as she reviewed tactical plans. ¡°Lord Alam! It¡¯s good to see you. Progress in Mongolia and Manchuria is going according to plan. We¡¯re slowly capturing the Red Army''s defenses.¡±

    ¡°Please, don¡¯t call me Lord,¡± Alam replied, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°Let¡¯s focus on their positions. Don¡¯t concentrate your troops in one place. If I were you, I wouldn¡¯t take their cities.¡±

    Nkosi nodded, understanding the strategy. ¡°You¡¯re right. They¡¯re dug in deep. A direct assault would be costly. Instead, we can strike at their weak points in the countryside.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Alam affirmed. ¡°They¡¯re planning something. We need to stay vigilant.¡±

    Nkosi agreed, her expression serious. ¡°The Red Army is definitely plotting. We need to prepare for any surprises.¡±

    ¡°Have you located their stratocannon?¡± Alam asked.

    Nkosi nodded. ¡°Yes, we¡¯ve pinpointed its location. It¡¯s a serious threat, but we have a plan to neutralize it. We¡¯ll open a route to attack and destroy it.¡±

    Alam smirked, sensing the momentum building. ¡°Good. Now we wait for Zion¡¯s move.¡±

    later. the news of red revolution reach the Xian base, Alam looked at Nkosi and Artak, his expression grim.

    ¡°I see... Zion is not joking about this rebellion. He¡¯s attacking his own troops.¡±

    Nkosi nodded, concern etched on her face. ¡°It seems he¡¯s facing internal unrest. This strife could be advantageous if we exploit it.¡±

    ¡°But is this part of his strategy or just a distraction?¡± Alam pondered aloud. ¡°I can¡¯t read a madman.¡±

    Nkosi paused, considering. ¡°That¡¯s true. We need to stay vigilant and prepared for anything. Let''s monitor the situation closely.¡±

    ¡°Artak, have you dealt with madmen before?¡± Alam asked.

    Artak nodded, his voice steady. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve fought unpredictable opponents. You must remain cautious; they rely on surprise and aggression.¡±

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan for dealing with Zion?¡± Alam pressed.

    Artak thought carefully. ¡°We may need to use unconventional tactics¡ªtrickery, stealth, anything to turn their chaos against them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not keen on pushing forward,¡± Alam decided. ¡°I¡¯ll secure our flanks and our backs.¡±

    Artak appreciated the commitment. ¡°Keeping our flanks secured is crucial. We must maintain a strong defense against any surprise attacks.¡±

    With the stakes higher than ever, Alam and his ally prepared for the tumultuous events ahead,

    Later, Alam took a tour of the front lines. It was the first time he''d truly seen the sheer diversity of the forces under his loose command. The mismatched uniforms, the different skin tones, the wildly varying ways they chose to unwind¡ªit was a stark contrast to the relatively homogenous ranks of his original Wanderers.

    On the Golden Caravan¡¯s armored train¡ªimpressive tech, he had to admit¡ªAlam sat in a compartment with General Zhang and a grand mufti, an old man with a flowing white beard. In the carriage behind them, the scene was¡­ different. Soldiers were crammed together, completely absorbed in a drama playing on a small screen. A man and a woman were arguing intensely.

    The woman slapped the man. A collective gasp rose from the soldiers.

    Then the man slapped the woman. Another gasp, this one laced with a different kind of tension.

    Finally, they kissed. The soldiers sighed in unison. A large, dark-skinned soldier murmured, ¡°Now that¡¯s romantic.¡±

    A man with bright red hair scoffed. ¡°Romantic? You call that entertainment? Give me some gladiator bloodsport.¡± He snatched the remote, switching the channel.

    The screen now showed two naked women fighting in a grid arena¡ªa ¡°catfight,¡± as the Red Army broadcast labeled it. Whistles and cheers erupted from some of the soldiers. Others covered their eyes in mock horror. Jaws dropped. A brief but fierce struggle for the remote ensued, ending only when an officer drew his pistol and switched off the TV, launching into a furious lecture.

    Alam watched the commotion with detached amusement. Zhang glanced at the grand mufti. Despite their similar traditional garb, the mufti¡¯s was far more modest. ¡°This was once a land of morals,¡± Zhang said, his voice low. ¡°People dressed with decorum, behaved with modesty¡­ but now.¡± He trailed off, shaking his head slowly.

    grand mufti nod ¡°you know story of adam? when they decend from heaven. they lost their clothes.

    satan then on mission. to make people lose his sense of shame. because when people lost his sense of shame they will able do anything..

    Zhang nodded, remembering firsthand the Red Army¡¯s brutality. They claimed to liberate, yet coldly separated families in the name of efficiency. "This¡­ this constant barrage of violence and¡­ degradation. It''s poisoning the minds of our people."

    grand mufti stright up his gaze to a train window¡°people might say dont judge books by its cover. but when books is about glorified violence. immorality. and drug and war. there is nothing to read¡±

    Alam¡¯s gaze flicked to the soldiers in the other carriage, still being scolded by their officer. The cheers and the fascination with the violent and immoral broadcast were telling. The officer, red-faced, pointed at the screen. "Do you understand? This is educational! It teaches you¡­ how not to behave! Yes. That''s it. Educational."

 Chapter 82 Red vs Red

    The day was dragging. Even the rats seemed bored. Hazel sat by a sputtering fire, nursing a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. Around her, soldiers were doing what soldiers do when there''s nothing to do: cleaning weapons they''d already cleaned, complaining about the food they''d already eaten, and generally trying to avoid thinking about the larger war raging around them. It was almost¡­ peaceful. Then the world went boom.

    ¡°What the heck?¡± a soldier shouted, eyes wide. ¡°Blue on blue! Repeat¡ªyou''re killing your own men!¡± But the chaos continued unabated.

    Red Army soldiers had turned on each other, the brutal fighting erupting into a frenzy of chaos. Shouts and screams filled the air, the once orderly ranks devolving into madness. The city was awash in confusion, a damp city transformed into a hellscape.

    From a radio chatter crackling in the command center, a desperate voice emerged. ¡°Zion ordered his loyal forces to attack the Red Army... please¡ª¡± The transmission cut off.

    Hazel¡¯s heart raced as the reality of their situation sank in. ¡°What the hell is going on?!¡± she exclaimed, shaking a nearby soldier. ¡°Who¡¯s in command of this base?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± the soldier cried, panic rising in his voice. ¡°I¡¯m just a lowly soldier! Please stop shaking me!¡± The young man was clearly overwhelmed, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape.

    ¡°Damn it!¡± Hazel growled, frustration boiling over. ¡°I¡¯m taking command here! Anyone who wants to live, follow me!¡±

    A few soldiers, motivated by fear and the instinct to survive, began to rally around Hazel. Slowly but surely, the madness began to subside as more soldiers joined him, their focus shifting from chaos to clarity.

    As their tank division and newly formed army retreated from the burning city, they moved southward, trying to escape the tumult. The mood was grim; exhaustion hung over them like a fog, and the silence was deafening, punctuated only by the rumbling of tanks.

    Arriving in the city of Ulan Ude, they marched in silence, the weight of their experiences heavy on their shoulders. No one spoke over the radio; the air was thick with anxiety.

    Once they settled, Hazel assessed the situation. ¡°Alright, boys. We¡¯re staying put until we get a better understanding of what the hell happened.¡±

    That night, she and a few lower-ranking officers gathered around a radio, straining to catch snippets of information. The atmosphere was tense, the cold air wrapping around them like a shroud.

    Suddenly, a scout reported that another Red Army division was approaching. ¡°We still don¡¯t know if they¡¯re friendly or not,¡± Hazel said, frowning. ¡°Let¡¯s contact them.¡±

    ¡°Bastard group to Army Group C! We are not part of the coup d''¨¦tat! Identify yourselves!¡± she called out over the radio.

    A voice crackled back quickly. ¡°This is Army Group C! We¡¯re not part of the coup d''¨¦tat either! We¡¯re loyal to the Red Army!¡±

    ¡°Good. Come here,¡± Hazel instructed, her heart pounding as she prepared for their arrival.

    With tension thick in the air, she ordered her men to stand by, turrets aimed in the direction of the approaching group. A lone jeep rolled into town, and the occupants stepped out cautiously, hands raised in a peaceful gesture.

    ¡°Thank holy Caesar! We found a friendly here!¡± an officer exclaimed.

    Hazel stepped forward, introducing herself. ¡°I¡¯m Major Hazel. And you are?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Captain Adam,¡± the lone man replied, his confident stance belying the worry in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m a loyal soldier of the Red Army. I was sent here to assess the situation. We¡¯ve heard reports of soldiers turning against their own.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Hazel replied, feeling a sense of urgency. ¡°What division are you with?¡±

    ¡°The 700th Tank Division, ¡®Steel Lion,¡¯ under Supreme Commander Zion,¡± Captain Adam said, his tone serious. ¡°We were ordered to investigate reports of traitors in the area.¡±

    ¡°Traitors?¡± Hazel echoed, rubbing her chin. ¡°What do you know about them?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re the ones who turned their backs on us during the fight,¡± Adam explained. ¡°Zion ordered us to eliminate them. But we¡¯re still trying to figure out who the traitors are.¡±

    Hazel nodded, understanding the complexities of the situation. ¡°So we¡¯re caught in the middle of a power struggle?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Adam said, his expression grave. ¡°We need to tread carefully. The Supreme Commander is engaged in a fight to the south, and we can¡¯t reach him for guidance.¡±

    ¡°How many soldiers do you have?¡± Hazel asked, gauging their strength.

    ¡°About 149,¡± Adam replied. ¡°But we¡¯ll need to be careful about who we trust.¡±

    Hazel¡¯s shoulders slumped slightly as she realized the precariousness of their position. ¡°We¡¯re in a complicated situation, then.¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Adam agreed, his eyes scanning the horizon. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to make any mistakes.¡±

    The distant rumble of artillery sounded like thunder, each boom sending shivers down Hazel''s spine.

    "Damn it!" she muttered, her mind racing. "We need to get ready, Captain, or we''ll end up like General Sima¡ªleft for dead."

    "I agree," Captain Adam replied, his face etched with worry. "The Supreme Commander''s orders to kill these ''traitors'' without any real Information¡­ it feels like we''re just pawns in some sick game."

    Hazel nodded, a steely resolve settling in her chest. "I''m moving west to get a better picture of what''s happening. You should come with us, Captain."

    "Absolutely. This whole situation stinks. The Supreme Commander''s gone paranoid. We need to find somewhere safe to regroup," Adam said, his voice firming.

    As March began, they dug in, gathering scattered Red Army soldiers who sought refuge with Hazel''s group. With each new report, the situation became clearer: Zion and his inner circle were arbitrarily deciding who was loyal and who wasn''t, creating their own delusional version of reality.

    One day, a lone woman walked into the city. She wore a bodysuit like the ones Zion''s bodyguards used. The Red Army soldiers tensed, watching her every move as she approached, seemingly oblivious to their stares.

    "Who is she?" a soldier whispered.

    "Let''s find out," Hazel said, stepping forward. "Hands up, or we blow your head! We don''t know your intentions!"

    The woman calmly raised her hands, her expression eerily calm. A Red Army jeep pulled up beside her, and she was escorted to Hazel without resistance.

    "I''m Major Hazel. And you are?" Hazel asked, scrutinizing her.

    "I''m Captain Nara," the woman replied, her voice low and quiet, her eyes blank.

    ¡°You were one of Panji''s companions, right?¡± Hazel pressed, remembering the fallen soldier whose head now hung on the city gate.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Nara said, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°We were like two sides of a coin. He always thought of others first.¡±

    The mention of Panji made Hazel flinch inwardly. The grim reminder of what happened to "traitors" hung heavy in the air. "What happened to you?"

    "I was part of Zion''s guard," Nara explained, taking a deep breath. "I''ve worked for him for a year without any problems, but now¡­ everything''s wrong. His paranoia is suffocating. The Red Army''s falling apart, and he''s doing nothing to stop it."

    Hazel exchanged a look with Captain Adam. The weight of their predicament settled on them.

    "We can''t follow a madman''s orders," Adam said. "He''s going to get us all killed."

    "You''re right," Hazel agreed, her jaw set. "We need to make our own decisions."

    "Alright, Red Dogs," Hazel rallied the troops. "Our Supreme Leader thinks we''re traitors, so let''s act like it. We''re stuck between the chaos to the north and east, where the Red Army will shoot us on sight, and the True Horde and Crescent Alliance to the south and west."

    The soldiers nodded, some looking worried, others determined. They understood: it was time to break away.

    "We''re taking a back route through Kyrgyzstan, then through the mountains of Afghanistan, and finally to the Emerald League," Hazel explained. "They''re neutral and known to take in mercenaries. It''s our best shot at safety."

    "Sounds good," Adam affirmed. "Splitting into three sections¡ªone for each tank division¡ªwill minimize risk and help us move strategically."

    "Exactly," Hazel confirmed. "We''ll put the light tanks in the middle for support, with the heavier units on the flanks. We need balance for whatever we encounter."

    The officers nodded in agreement, their resolve solidifying.

    "Captain Adam, you''ll lead the right section. Captain Patrick, you''ll take the left. I''ll take the center," Hazel assigned decisively. "Tetsuya, you''ll scout ahead."

    "Got it," Adam replied, determination in his voice. "We have to stay sharp. This route is dangerous, but if we stick together, we can make it."

    Murmurs of agreement rippled through the ranks. Some soldiers looked concerned, while others seemed resolved. They were ready to break free.

    "We''re taking a back route through Kyrgyzstan, then through the mountains of Afghanistan, and finally to the Emerald League," Hazel reiterated. "It''s a neutral zone, known for accepting mercenaries. We''ll be safe there."

    "Good plan," Adam agreed. "Kyrgyzstan, then the Emerald League. It''s the safest option."

    "Let''s hope we don''t run into hostile Red Army units to the north or the Crescent Alliance at the Central Asia border," Hazel cautioned.

    "That''s our biggest risk," Adam acknowledged. "We need to stay vigilant."

    "We have 120 light tanks, 8 buffalo tanks, and a dozen trucks. It''ll be a long caravan. I suggest we split into three sections," Hazel proposed.

    The officers considered the plan.

    "Splitting up reduces the risk and lets us take different routes," one officer suggested. "About 40 light tanks and two buffalo tanks per section."

    "Exactly. Lighter units in the middle for support," Hazel added.

    "Agreed. They can move to either flank if needed. We need balance," Adam said.

    With the plan set, Hazel assigned roles. "Captain Adam, right section. Captain Patrick, left section. I''ll take the center. Tetsuya, scout ahead."

    "Understood," Adam replied. "We''ll be ready."

    "It''s about a 4,000-kilometer trek," Hazel warned. "It could take weeks. If you believe in prayer, now''s the time."

    Patrick and Yu exchanged a glance, still shocked, but they nodded in agreement. Tetsuya silently mounted his strider tank and moved out to scout.

    The soldiers, taking Hazel''s words to heart, began their journey through Russia toward Kyrgyzstan, across harsh terrain of forests and steppes. The march was grueling; each day felt endless. But they kept moving, determined to escape the chaos behind them.

    As they trudged on, Hazel often glanced at Nara, the lone woman walking among them. She moved slowly, her expression blank and emotionless, like a doll. Her eyes seemed to stare into nothingness, unfazed by the harsh environment. Hazel couldn''t shake her concern. Something about Nara''s demeanor was unsettling, a haunting reminder of the turmoil they were all fleeing.

    As chaos erupted around her, Hazel¡¯s heart raced, but her thoughts drifted to her brother. What would he think of me now? Guilt gnawed at her. Am I honoring his memory, or am I just lost in my quest for vengeance? And now this?

    On a quiet night, Hazel stood atop a tank. She glanced at Nara, who stood nearby, her expression as blank as the starless sky. Hazel gestured for her to join her, and Nara silently obeyed. She waited, still and passive. This stillness intrigued Hazel.

    "What do you remember about North America?" she asked, breaking the silence.

    Nara tilted her head slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "North America?"

    "Yes," Hazel replied. "The capital of the Red Nation. You''ve been there, right?"

    Her gaze drifted, as if searching for memories. "A friend told me it''s a land of freedom, without war or conflict¡ªa place filled with people from all over."

    Hazel frowned. "Forget what your friend said. What do you remember?"

    Nara paused, then responded in a flat, emotionless tone. "The land where democracy was born¡ªfreedom reigns. People live without fear, where democracy thrives."

    "That doesn''t tell me much," Hazel pressed. "What about the Free World Coliseum? Is it bigger than the Blood Khaganate Arena?"

    Her eyes brightened for a moment. "Oh, it''s completely different. The Coliseum is massive, with thousands of passionate spectators who love the excitement of battle."

    "How many times did you win in the arena before Zion recruited you?" Hazel asked.

    Nara hesitated, a flicker of emotion crossing her face. "I don''t remember. I didn''t keep count. Fighting is my duty."

    "Impressive... and kind of sad," Hazel remarked, her voice softer now.

    Silence settled between them. Nara''s expression remained unchanged, but the shadows in her eyes hinted at unspoken sorrows.

    Meanwhile, back in zion base, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation as Viper appeared on the monitor, his voice brimming with excitement. ¡°I took Novosibirsk!¡±

    Cheers erupted among the Wardogs, and Zion¡¯s face lit up with pride. ¡°Excellent work! We¡¯ve secured the northern front. Let¡¯s maintain pressure.¡±

    Kassandra¡¯s voice cut through the celebration. ¡°Sir, Major Hazel wants to speak with you.¡±

    Zion¡¯s demeanor shifted to seriousness in an instant. ¡°Put him through.¡±

    The screen flickered to life, revealing Hazel, masked and weary, her eyes betraying a mixture of fatigue and determination. ¡°Why attack your own soldiers?¡± she demanded.

    Zion took a moment to respond, his gaze steady. ¡°The Red Nation, seeking to expand its influence,and situation forcing us into a defensive stance. Despite our attempts at diplomacy, their aggressive maneuvers left us with no choice but to protect our sovereignty. This conflict is not just about land; it¡¯s a struggle for identity and autonomy in a world dominated by anarchy.".¡±

    Hazel¡¯s voice was sharp, filled with frustration. ¡°what the fuck you talking about? that is nonsense. We fought for you during the Winter War. Is this our reward?¡±

    ¡°Your sacrifices are noted,¡± Zion replied evenly, ¡°but my people deserve self-determination. Our struggle continues.¡±

    Hazel¡¯s resolve hardened. ¡°We¡¯ll fight for our survival. We make our own fate.¡±

    Zion acknowledged the weight of Hazel¡¯s words. ¡°Let¡¯s seek a solution for both sides. We can work together.¡±

    Hazel shook her head, a firm resolve in her eyes. ¡°No. We¡¯ll retreat to the Emerald League. Don¡¯t pursue us.¡±

    Zion sighed, the gravity of the situation settling in. ¡°I¡¯ll honor that request, but be warned: we will defend our territory.¡±

    As the call ended, Zion turned to his team, the air thick with tension. ¡°The Red Nation¡¯s forces have retreated. We have a choice: let them go or pursue them.¡±

    A murmur of mixed opinions filled the room. Trickster leaned forward, his voice eager. ¡°Chasing them could open a new front in the south.¡±

    Zion paused, considering. "I will respect your decision¡­ for now. But understand, we will defend our territory." The line went dead. Zion turned to Kassandra, the air in the room thick with tension. "They''re pulling back. What do you think, Kassandra? Do we let them go?"

    Kassandra considered for a moment, tapping her finger on the table. "They''re weakened, disorganized. Pursuing them could open up a new front, but it would stretch our own forces thin." She paused, looking directly at Zion. "Are we willing to take that risk?"

 Chapter 83 Welcome to Siberia

    The weather continued to deteriorate each day, the thawing snow transforming the roads into muddy quagmires. Trucks and tanks struggled to navigate the thick, sticky muck, making travel increasingly treacherous. Soldiers had to tread carefully, knowing that one misstep could leave them stuck.

    The muddy conditions were as punishing as the frostbite of winter, a fact that prompted one soldier to joke, ¡°In the snow, we only got frostbite. Now it¡¯s mud. Why did our leader want this land in the first place?¡± Laughter broke out, a momentary relief from their grim reality.

    Hazel surveyed the scene from atop her tank, she gaze drifting to Nara, who marched alongside the convoy. She moved with a steady, unwavering pace, her face a mask of indifference as she stared straight ahead. It was as if she were a doll, impervious to fatigue despite the arduous trek through the mud. Her unusual behavior stirred concern in Hazel; she wished she understood what lay beneath her stoic exterior.

    Suddenly, the distant rumble of artillery fire shattered the uneasy peace. The sound echoed from the north, a clear sign that the conflict was encroaching upon them. They couldn¡¯t see the battle, but the heavy blasts hinted at chaos just beyond the horizon. As night fell, the darkness deepened, and they pressed on, desperate to avoid the fighting. A flicker of light in the distance caught Hazel¡¯s eye¡ªflashes from enemy artillery.

    ¡°Do you believe in Gott, Yu?¡± Hazel asked as she climbed back into the tank.

    Yu looked at him for a moment, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. ¡°I believe in God, but not in religion. Religions are made by people for their own benefit. I believe in God as a higher power. Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°Because only Gott can save those poor souls,¡± he replied.

    A hint of sadness crossed Yu¡¯s face at his words. ¡°Yeah... only God can save them. It¡¯s His will that this is happening. Humans are powerless to change anything, and that makes me feel sad.¡±

    As they traveled, they encountered a group of refugees and army deserters standing at a crossroads. They showed no sign of aggression, merely clutching their weapons with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. One deserter recognized Hazel. ¡°Hey, I know you! You¡¯re Major Hazel, right? We fought together in Manchuria!¡±

    Hazel squinted, trying to recall the face before him. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m the one who gave your tank a flamethrower at the workshop,¡± the deserter replied.

    Hazel chuckled, remembering the tech who had outfitted his tank. ¡°Ah, so you¡¯re the one! What¡¯s happening in the north?¡±

    The deserter¡¯s tone shifted to serious. ¡°It¡¯s chaos up there. Heavy tensions between the Red Nation troops and the Blood Khaganate. The war is escalating every day, and destruction is widespread. The Blood Khaganate is gaining strength.¡±

    ¡°So, they¡¯re fighting now? Who¡¯s on Zion¡¯s side?¡± Hazel asked.

    ¡°Zion loyalists are attacking both the Red Nation and the Blood Khaganate,¡± the deserter confirmed.

    Hazel nodded, thoughtful. ¡°Look, our tank needs more engineers. Want a job?¡±

    The deserter¡¯s eyes lit up with hope. ¡°Yes, sir! I¡¯d be happy to take the job.¡±

    As they cleared the trees and hit the open steppe, a group of maybe fifteen, twenty riders appeared on the horizon. They moved among the rolling hills, their dark cloaks billowing in the wind. They wore these freaky silver skull masks, and their horses had these weird, bony-looking exo-helmets. It was a definite "we''re not here for tea and biscuits" vibe.

    They charged straight for the tank, swords out, ¡°No mercy for cowards!¡± Viper, the rider leader, shouted,

    Then, some of the riders pulled out anti-tank launchers, firing on the move. The heat-seekers locked onto the tank, but Hazel¡¯s tank automatically deployed decoys, shooting up like fireworks and drawing the missiles away.

    but despite this the riders still charge at them

    Hazel¡¯s heart raced. ¡°What kind of madness is this? They¡¯re charging at us with swords?! Give them fireworks, boys. Set for high explosive shells!¡±

    The gunner complied, loading the high explosive shells just as the riders closed in. With a decisive shout, Hazel commanded, ¡°Fire!¡±

    The shell struck true, shattering horses and riders alike in a gruesome display. Bodies flew through the air, but the remaining riders quickly spread out, displaying their skill.

    ¡°They¡¯re Siberian riders! Expert horsemen with enchanted steeds!¡± Yu exclaimed.

    ¡°I heard about them in a bar. So they¡¯re not a myth,¡± Hazel muttered. ¡°Alright, boys, prepare the machine gun!¡±

    The riders circled the tank, evading the tank¡¯s fire. They executed a tactical maneuver, closing in while avoiding the gunner¡¯s aim. The gunner waited for Hazel¡¯s command.

    ¡°Fire at will!¡± Hazel shouted.

    The machine gun roared to life, sending a hail of bullets into the riders. The armor of the horsemen crumbled under the onslaught, and one by one, they fell.

    Despite the chaos, some riders pressed forward, attempting to strike the tank with swords and explosives. The machine gun fire was relentless, but their morale remained unnervingly high.

    In the midst of the turmoil, Nara seized a rifle with a bayonet from a fallen soldier. With surprising agility, she attacked the nearest rider, catching them off guard. The horsemen attempted to evade her strikes, but she moved with lethal precision.

    The leader of the riders, cloaked and formidable, noticed her and charged at her with a spear. Nara parried the attack effortlessly and shot the rider point-blank, sending him tumbling to the ground.

    As she rose, she locked eyes with Nara. ¡°I know you... you¡¯re Zion¡¯s lost dog, Nara,¡± she spat.

    Recognition flickered in Nara¡¯s eyes. The leader was Viper, a former windup girl and slave of Zion. Anger surged within her.

    Amid the chaos, Hazel ordered his tank to turn, attempting to envelop the remaining riders. Viper, aware of the trap, quickly mounted her horse and rallied her comrades. ¡°Form a smoke screen! We¡¯re retreating!¡±

    The riders complied, creating a cloud of smoke as they fled. Some attempted to damage the tank with explosives, but their numbers were dwindling. The remaining riders had to retreat to survive.

    The tank could not pursue them into the woods; it would be too risky. Hazel ordered the tank to halt. They needed to refocus on their main mission¡ªescorting the caravan south. The tank began to move slowly, returning to the task at hand, leaving the chaos behind.

    After regrouping and reorganizing the caravan following the attack, Hazel and several officers gathered to examine the fallen riders. The bodies sprawled across the ground, adorned with intricate tattoos and clad in long black cloaks. Some of the corpses boasted mechanized limbs,.

    The officers exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued by the tattoos and mechanical enhancements. Hazel approached the nearest body, tapping on the cold, metal limb.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Do we think we can sell these?¡± she asked,

    The officers leaned in, inspecting the mechanized limbs with wide eyes, their hopes for profit rising. The prospect of salvaging valuable parts sparked a lively discussion among them.

    ¡°Absolutely! If we can extract them without damaging them¡ª¡± one officer began, his enthusiasm evident.

    Hazel chuckled at their eagerness. ¡°I think you all know what to do.¡± He stepped back as they drew axes and knives, preparing to extract the valuable materials.

    As the officers moved to their grim task, Hazel turned her attention to Nara, who sat nearby against the tank. She stared into the distance, her expression unreadable, lost in thought. The landscape unfolded before her, but she seemed detached, oblivious to the chaos surrounding them. A few soldiers glanced her way but quickly averted their eyes, sensing her desire for solitude.

    ¡°So, I hear you fought bravely out there. Hand-to-hand combat,¡± Hazel ventured, stepping closer. ¡°Too bad I couldn¡¯t see it with my own eyes.¡±

    Nara turned her gaze toward him, her expression still flat. She registered the warmth in his voice but remained unresponsive, her thoughts elsewhere. Hazel studied her for a moment, sensing a wall between them.

    ¡°Do they like you?¡± she asked, curious about her connections to the others.

    Silence hung in the air as Nara processed the question. She didn¡¯t know how to respond, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn¡¯t articulate.

    ¡°Never mind,¡± Hazel said, sensing her discomfort. He gave her shoulder a gentle pat, then turned to rejoin the officers.

    Left alone once more, Nara returned to her thoughts, pondering Hazel¡¯s question. The world around her faded into the background as she wrestled with the weight of her own emotions, grappling with the complexities of connection and isolation.

    Ferghana Valley, Late December 2405

    The Hazel caravan traversed the vast Turgai Plateau, where arid plains and steppes slowly gave way to a more picturesque landscape. The desert receded, replaced by the majestic Kazakh mountains rising high against the horizon, their peaks still dusted with snow. It was a breathtaking sight, a welcome relief from the monotony of the desert,

    their aim to reach the neutral faction. a Green nation is located in persia. while dodging both zion ¡°loyalist¡± and Crescent alliance attack.

    As night fell, the caravan set up camp, the flickering campfires casting warm glows against the encroaching darkness. Hazel wandered through the camp, his gaze settling on Nara, who lay on the grass, staring up at the starry sky. In her hand, he spotted a pair of red glasses¡ªPanji''s glasses. A wave of nostalgia washed over him.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Hazel called out, ¡°I know someone who usually wears those. Panji¡¯s glasses, right? The only officer with bright glasses at the academy.¡±

    Nara looked up, surprise flickering across her face. ¡°You know Panji?¡± she replied, a hint of recognition in her voice. She slowly nodded, her gaze returning to the stars above.

    ¡°Are you¡­ close with him?¡± Hazel inquired, curiosity piqued.

    After a moment of silence, Nara replied softly, ¡°Yes, we are close.¡±

    ¡°Like lovers?¡± Hazel ventured, raising an eyebrow.

    Nara¡¯s cheeks flushed, and a shy smile broke across her face. ¡°Yes, we are lovers,¡± she admitted.

    ¡°How did you two meet?¡± Hazel pressed, intrigued.

    Nara chuckled nervously, the warmth of the moment palpable. ¡°It¡¯s a long story. I can¡¯t really explain it all; it¡¯s too personal.¡±

    ¡°And how about you?¡± Hazel prompted, sensing a deeper story.

    Nara let out a small laugh, contemplating her past. ¡°I¡¯m just a lost girl. I was a slave of Zion. I became part of the army after I got famous.¡±

    ¡°Fascinating,¡± Hazel remarked, intrigued by the transformation from lost girl to bodyguard. ¡°So how did that happen?¡±

    Nara smiled, her eyes reflecting a mix of pride and melancholy. ¡°I was just a broken kid, run away from home, and becoming his bodyguard was my way to survive. There was no other choice for me back then.¡±

    ¡°Did they force you? I heard Zion¡¯s bodyguards are fiercely loyal,¡± Hazel probed.

    Nara hesitated, looking down before answering. ¡°They forced me. They controlled my life, and I had no choice but to obey. Most of Zion¡¯s bodyguards are slaves, like me. That¡¯s our fate.¡±

    ¡°What makes you different then?¡± Hazel asked, genuinely confused. ¡°It sounds like a plot hole.¡±

    ¡°Panji had a choice; he joined the rebellion. I was forced into the Zion army,¡± Nara explained, her voice heavy with regret. ¡°Our destinies are different.¡±

    Hazel frowned, trying to understand. ¡°I guess it¡¯s just too complicated for me.¡±

    ¡°It''s okay if you don¡¯t understand,¡± Nara said, looking up at the stars, her expression sad. ¡°My situation isn¡¯t simple.¡±

    After a long pause, Hazel broke the silence. ¡°We¡¯ll be reaching the mountains soon. I want you to join the scout unit. You have exceptional fighting skills.¡±

    Nara raised her head, surprised by his words. ¡°Is that so? I didn¡¯t know my skills would be necessary. But¡­ why me?¡±

    ¡°Because my division took heavy losses in the Altai Mountains during the winter war. Mountain warfare relies on close combat, and you¡¯re perfect for that,¡± Hazel explained.

    Nara considered this, then nodded. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m with you.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a rank?¡± Hazel asked.

    Nara took a deep breath. ¡°My rank is captain.¡±

    ¡°Good! Now you¡¯re my captain. You¡¯ll work with Captain Tetsuya.¡±

    Nara blinked, her curiosity piqued. ¡°Wait, I¡¯m working with Captain Tetsuya? Isn¡¯t he the captain of the tank unit?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Hazel replied, ¡°why? Do you know him?¡±

    Nara¡¯s face softened as she recalled their shared history. ¡°We were in the same academy and the gladiator arena. He was a death racer when I was a pit fighter. We know each other well.¡±

    Hazel raised an eyebrow. ¡°I see¡­ what an unexpected reunion.¡±

    Nara laughed lightly, though her smile faded as memories of the past crept in. ¡°We didn¡¯t have a good relationship back then, but now we need to work together. This is life or death.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t let past grudges affect you,¡± Hazel said, sighing. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to Tetsuya about this.¡±

    As the days passed, they reached the Fergana Valley. The landscape shifted dramatically, revealing green fields and orchards that exuded a calm, peaceful vibe after their perilous journey. The relief of the beautiful scenery enveloped them.

    During their journey, Tetsuya broke the silence. ¡°Hey, Nara, go check that hill over there.¡±

    Nara looked at him, slightly confused. ¡°Um¡­ why? I can do that, but what do you expect to find?¡±

    ¡°Because you¡¯re not afraid of anything,¡± Tetsuya smirked.

    Nara nodded, accepting the challenge. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m on my way to check that hill.¡±

    As she climbed to the summit, the view took her breath away. From the peak, she could see the long trail of Hazel¡¯s caravan, tanks and trucks moving steadily. In the distance, she spotted a cloud of dust rising ominously behind a hill.

    Curious, she raised her binoculars, scanning the horizon. the binocular is advanced enough to see through the mountain dense rock

    ¡°A tank brigade is on the move,¡± she murmured, her heart racing. Realizing the potential threat, she hurried back down.

    ¡°Tetsuya! We have a situation!¡± she called out, urgency in her voice.

    ¡°Why not just use your radio?¡± he quipped as she approached.

    ¡°I wasn''t sure if you could hear it with all the noise in the valley,¡± Nara replied, slightly out of breath. ¡°But I thought I¡¯d get here faster.¡±

    ¡°What did you see?¡± Tetsuya asked, his expression shifting to concern.

    ¡°A tank brigade moving right now, just behind that hill. If we don¡¯t act, they¡¯ll attack,¡± she warned.

    Tetsuya gulped and quickly radioed Hazel. As he relayed the information, Nara watched him, anxious for their next move. ¡°What¡¯s the plan? Are we going to attack?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Tetsuya admitted, ¡°I¡¯m just a racer, not a military genius.¡±

    Nara frowned, but her resolve solidified. ¡°Then we wait for orders. If Hazel gives the command, we¡¯ll join the battle.¡±

    ¡°Do you see a flag or anything? What do they belong to?¡± Tetsuya asked, scanning the area.

    Nara shook her head. ¡°No flags or insignia¡ªjust mercenaries. Their movements are suspicious, though.¡±

    As Hazel¡¯s tanks formed a wedge formation, smoke and dust filled the valley. ¡°This is going to be a fierce battle,¡± Nara said, worry threading through her voice.

    ¡°Our buffalo tanks are the heaviest on earth. We can stand against any tanks,¡± Tetsuya asserted, though doubt crept into his tone. ¡°But we¡¯re not in an open area.¡±

    Nara frowned at the approaching tank brigade. ¡°We can withstand any tank, but can we handle all of them at once? It will be a challenge.¡±

    ¡°Only time will tell,¡± Tetsuya replied, donning his goggles and returning to the driver¡¯s seat.

    As the tank scout team moved forward, Nara gripped the side of the tank, trying to mask her nerves with a stoic expression.

    ¡°Alright, boys,¡± Hazel¡¯s voice boomed over the intercom. ¡°You dogs of war, we will show them hell! Keep moving forward and destroy them in sight!¡±

    Adrenaline surged through Nara as Hazel¡¯s order echoed in her ears. She gripped the tank tighter, her heart racing. The crew was buzzing with excitement, ready for battle.

    Hazel punched Yu¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll see another tank battle!¡±

    Yu smirked. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s hope you don¡¯t make any dumb mistakes this time.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Hazel replied confidently as the tank division maintained its wedge formation, moving forward with purpose.

    Nara felt a mix of excitement and anxiety as they advanced. As the scout unit, she was leading the charge, and she was determined to make her mark in this fierce conflict. The showdown with the tank brigade loomed ahead, and she was ready to face whatever came their way.

    As the sun dipped below the horizon, Tetsuya¡¯s voice crackled over the radio, breaking the serene quiet of the valley. ¡°Nara, put on your mask!¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Nara replied, slipping on her mask with a determined expression. ¡°I¡¯m ready to lure them.¡± She pushed down her nerves, focusing on the task at hand.

    The scout team pressed forward, their tanks racing toward the unknown enemy brigade. Suddenly, the enemy tanks halted and began firing their main artillery at the scout team¡¯s position. Nara''s heart raced as she recognized the imminent danger.

    Without hesitation, she jumped from her tank, retrieving a tactical rocket launcher from her backpack. She quickly loaded it and aimed at one of the enemy''s artillery tanks.

    ¡°Nara, you¡¯ll get crushed by Hazel¡¯s tank if you¡¯re not careful!¡± Tetsuya shouted over the radio, his tone a mix of urgency and disbelief.

    ¡°Thanks for the heads-up!¡± she retorted, her eyes darting between her tank and the encroaching smoke. In a swift motion, she ducked into the covering haze, crawling to safety behind a rock as explosions rocked the battlefield.

    Through the smoke, she saw Hazel¡¯s tanks rise, returning fire and obliterating enemy positions with frightening efficiency. Within minutes, the enemy brigade was in disarray, their ranks collapsing under the assault.

    Nara skillfully dodged debris as she navigated the chaos. With each moment, she felt the adrenaline surging through her veins. Spotting a large boulder, she climbed it to gain a better view of the battlefield. From her vantage point, she could see the remnants of the enemy tanks, smoke rising from their wreckage, and Hazel¡¯s forces moving methodically through the chaos, firing at any remaining enemy soldiers.

    As the dust began to settle, Tetsuya¡¯s tank emerged from the smoke, rolling toward her. Nara''s heart raced with relief. ¡°Tetsuya! Are you alright? What happened out there?¡±

    ¡°We won,¡± Tetsuya said, popping his head out of the turret with a grin. ¡°They¡¯re no more. But Hazel wants us to scout ahead for possible enemy reinforcements.¡±

    ¡°Good news!¡± Nara exclaimed, her spirits lifting. ¡°But wait¡­ are we going to scout ahead?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Move your tiny ass to the tank now. We have work to do,¡± Tetsuya urged, barely containing his amusement.

    Nara climbed onto the tank, ready to roll out. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this then.¡±

    As they passed the wrecks of enemy tanks, Nara noticed soldiers looting the remains for valuable equipment. ¡°What are we doing now?¡± she asked, glancing at Tetsuya. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we head back now that there¡¯s no immediate threat?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand how you made captain,¡± Tetsuya replied, shaking his head. ¡°Is it just combat prowess? Scouts need to keep an eye on the bigger picture.¡±

    Nara shot him a look. ¡°Yes, I have good combat skills, but I also received special training that enhanced my situational awareness during battle. I can see movements and analyze them. That¡¯s why I got my rank.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Tetsuya conceded, rolling his eyes. ¡°Good to see a familiar face.¡±

    Nara felt a mixture of annoyance and confusion at his casual dismissiveness. She opened her mouth to respond but stopped, sensing something off in his expression.

    Tetsuya then offered her a can of beer. ¡°Here, this might help.¡±

    Surprised, Nara accepted it. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, cracking it open and taking a sip.

    As they both drank, the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the valley. The peaceful landscape, dotted with the remnants of battle, felt surreal. For a moment, it was as if the chaos of war had been a distant memory, a dream overshadowed by the beauty of the setting sun.

    Nara sighed contentedly, looking at the horizon. ¡°Maybe we can find some peace here after all,¡± she mused, savoring the calm after the storm.

 Chapter 84 Between the Bridge

    After the Battle of Ferghana Valley, Hazel gathered with her officers, Adam and Patrick, in a canvas tent to discuss the aftermath. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and the remnants of victory.

    ¡°So, those were Emerald League mercs funded by the Red army,¡± Hazel said, scratching her chin. ¡°I wonder how the they feels about us taking out their hired guns.¡±

    Buoyed by their success, Adam and Patrick exchanged glances, their spirits high.

    ¡°They¡¯re definitely not happy about losing their mercs,¡± Patrick chimed in. ¡°Should we consider attacking the Emerald League next?¡±

    ¡°Our goal is the Emerald League,¡± Hazel replied. ¡°If we play our cards right, they might forgive us. It¡¯s kill or be killed out here, after all.¡±

    Adam and Patrick nodded, but Patrick raised an eyebrow. ¡°So, neither the Crescent Alliance nor the Emerald League is at full strength right now?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Hazel confirmed. ¡°The main Crescent Alliance forces are stuck in China, relying on mercs here. If they had their main army, we¡¯d be in serious trouble.¡±

    Patrick pondered this. ¡°So, they¡¯re both hesitant to waste resources on a fight they can¡¯t win?¡±

    ''Right,'' Hazel agreed. ''We''re in a contested area. If the Crescent Alliance were here, we''d be in deep trouble.''

    As they strategized, they moved through the stunning landscapes, vibrant flowers swaying in the breeze. A river glistened beside a mountain pass, where other tanks had recently rolled. Captivated by the beauty, Patrick snapped photos, a stark contrast to the chaos of battle they had just endured.

    Meanwhile, Nara and Tetsuya''s scout team encountered a herd of livestock blocking their path. After some effort, a local shepherd guided the animals away, prompting Tetsuya to salute him, calling him a "prophet shepherd."

    Approaching the bridge, a fragile wooden structure spanning a white river between two cliffs, Nara felt a pang of guilt. The locals¡¯ warnings about its weakness echoed in her mind. Hazel¡¯s solution¡ªreinforcing it with steel¡ªhad been a good one, and the locals¡¯ enthusiastic help had sped up the process.

    As they worked, Nara noticed the growing crowd of camp followers, a constant reminder of their expanding operation. We¡¯re becoming quite the caravan, she thought. Too visible, perhaps. By late March, the reinforced bridge was finally ready. The tanks began their slow crossing, the scout team leading the way. Nara watched, her heart pounding with a growing sense of unease. Something felt¡­ wrong. Then she saw them: a dark swarm on the horizon. ¡°Tetsuya!¡± she shouted. ¡°Gliders! Lots of them!¡±

    Hazel shouted commands over the radio, ¡°BATTLE FORMATIONS! Mount the AA guns! Tank units, keep moving orderly! If any driver panics, they¡¯ll be shot on the spot!¡±

    Nara felt her heart race as she prepared for battle, her adrenaline surging. The crew moved with precision, mounting the AA guns in anticipation of the incoming gliders.

    As the gliders approached, Hazel ordered the AA guns to fire. Bullets whizzed through the air, striking the gliders as they attempted to dive in for a bombing run. Nara¡¯s eyes widened as the chaos unfolded, gliders dodging and weaving to avoid the onslaught.

    ¡°Keep firing! Use anything you have!¡± Hazel shouted, drawing her pistol and aiming at the gliders overhead.

    The tanks continued to roll across the bridge, seemingly unfazed by the relentless attack. Nara felt admiration for the tank crew''s bravery, but her thoughts were interrupted as a rider approached from behind, their eyes gleaming with malice.

    ¡°Someone is attacking our camp followers! It¡¯s the Siberian riders!¡± came a report from the rear.

    ¡°we has been attacked on all side!, Scout unit, move to the back of the tank line!¡± Tetsuya commanded, urgency in his voice.

    ¡°Crap,¡± Nara muttered under her breath. The road was too narrow for two tanks to pass side by side. She had no choice but to jump from tank to tank, sprinting back to the bridge to assess the situation.

    Hazel''s forces were in a bind. The narrow road forced their tanks into a single file, preventing any effective formation. Friendly tanks and vehicles blocked their lines of fire, while enemy tanks hammered their position from the front. Adding to the chaos, hidden enemy cannons pounded them from the flanks, and gliders rained explosives from above. It was a textbook cluster¡ªa very loud, very dangerous cluster.

    Nara, reaching the rear of the caravan where the trucks and wagons were jammed together, saw the chaos firsthand. Siberian riders swarmed the camp followers, creating a desperate melee. Some riders galloped straight into the traffic jam, tossing bags of explosives like oversized firecrackers.

    The tanks and armored vehicles at the front were too busy dealing with the gliders and cannons to notice the attack from behind. Nara dove behind a tank, ambushing a passing rider. A solid bonk to the head with her rifle sent him tumbling from his horse, bending her rifle stock in the process.

    She quickly finished off the dismounted rider when another charged in, throwing a spear. Nara dodged at the last second, the spear embedding itself in a tank track with a thunk that made her eyes widen. The spear had pierced the steel. She looked at the skull-masked rider, who grinned from behind his mask, revealing a mechanical arm as he pulled another spear from his cloak.

    Before he could throw it, Nara simply shot him in the chest. Stunned, he staggered. Nara jumped onto the nearby tank and delivered a brutal kick to his head, sending him tumbling off his horse and over the cliff edge.

    Suddenly, a rider with piercing green eyes galloped towards her. It was Viper, the one she''d fought in Russia.

    ¡°We meet again. Let¡¯s finish our duel,¡± Viper sneered, pulling out a sawed-off shotgun.

    Before Nara could react, Viper fired. Nara rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the shot, but felt the sting as it grazed her shoulder.

    ¡°Not today!¡± she hissed, quickly drawing her rifle and aiming at Viper.

    But Viper¡¯s horse suddenly kicked, throwing Nara off balance. She fell, and Viper aimed her shotgun at her.

    Just then, Patrick leaped from a tank, charging at Viper. He swung his sword, aiming for her horse. The horse stumbled, and Viper lost her balance, tumbling to the ground.

    Nara was still reeling from the horse kick, pain radiating from her chest as she struggled to find her rifle. Her hand shook as she drew her pistol, the tremors making it nearly impossible to aim. Just then, Viper sprang to her feet, leveling her sawed-off shotgun squarely at Nara.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°Nice aim, but you¡¯re pointing at the wrong foe!¡± Patrick shouted, rushing in from the side. He slashed Viper''s hand with a swift strike, causing her to scream and the shotgun to clatter to the ground.

    Caught off guard, Viper realized she had lost her chance. ¡°We¡¯ll get you next time!¡± she spat, turning to flee.while she prepare her smoke grenade trick, But Patrick was faster, his enchanted leg propelling him forward as he drove his blade into her back. Viper crumpled to the ground, her sword falling from her grasp.

    The sight of their leader falling ignited fury among the Siberian riders. They dismounted in a frenzy, reckless shouts echoing as they prepared for a final charge.

    Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, most of the tank division had crossed the bridge despite the heavy bombardment from enemy,  Their AA guns were operational again, firing at the retreating gliders, which were finally running out of bombs and beginning to disperse.

    The dismounted riders, fueled by rage, moved dangerously close to the tank division, intent on detonating the bombs they had planted on the tank trail. In their frenzy, many were caught in their own blasts, the explosions throwing them into chaos.

    Nara, Patrick, and a small group of survivors pushed through the flames toward the bridge, desperately trying to reach the rear guard unit. Soldiers on the other side opened fire on the Siberian riders, taking down several of them in the process.

    Once the last of the survivors reached the bridge, Hazel turned to his crew. ¡°Good. Now quick!¡± she commanded, and the tank turret swung around, aiming at the bridge. He intended to destroy it to halt the riders'' pursuit.

    Nara''s heart raced. ¡°Stop!¡± she cried, sprinting toward Hazel to prevent the destruction.

    Hazel looked startled by her sudden intervention. ¡°Why? It''s a strategic move!¡± she argued, her brow furrowing.

    ¡°Do we really have to destroy it to stop the riders?¡± Nara replied, her voice laced with innocence and urgency.

    After a tense moment, Hazel¡¯s expression softened as he scanned the battlefield. the gunfire and blast is over. ¡°Alright¡­ they¡¯re gone. Dead or wounded.¡±

    Nara nodded, relief washing over her as she took in the quiet scene, bodies of fallen riders strewn across the ground. She inhaled deeply, thankful for the brief peace after the chaos.

    Later that day, the locals stoically helped bury the dead from both sides. Even the children picked up scattered limbs without complaint. The Afghans were tough people, and this sight struck Hazel''s weary soldiers, who had grown nihilistic over time. They sensed a flicker of humanity restored in the midst of war.

    In the past, they might have mutilated or run over corpses for fun, but now they witnessed something almost otherworldly. The locals viewed people not just as meat and bone, but as spiritual beings deserving of respect. They believed that everyone was created from the earth and should return to it properly, a reminder of the dignity that war often strips away.

    a quiet dignity. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the makeshift graveyard, a crackle came from the radio. A news report, distorted by static, began to play. ¡°¡­latest developments in the Eurasian conflict¡­¡± Hazel frowned. Even in this remote corner of the world, the grand narrative of the war continued, often distorted and sensationalized for public consumption. I wonder what they''re saying about all this back home? she thought.

    then at monitor screen, Slick studio, dazzling lights, and our reporter, Veronica Spark, with a mischievous glint in her eye.

    Alright folks Witty world news here, strap on your gas masks and grab your binoculars, because Zion just took a geography quiz and, well, let''s just say they forgot to study Eurasia! Yes, folks, the big Z''s been on a tear, carving up the continent like a drunk butcher at a discount ham sale.

    Now, the estimates are flying faster than bullets in a Texas hoedown, but we''re talking somewhere between 20 and 26% of Eurasia under Zion''s thumb. Sounds impressive, right? Wrong! Turns out, winning wars is like that fancy souffl¨¦ you spend all day making - one wrong move and it collapses faster than a politician''s promise.

    Veronica leans forward,

    First, the True Horde and  have been giving Zion''s boys a taste of their own lead-laced porridge. Think Stalingrad meets Mulan with way more explosions. And then there''s the little family feud with the Red Nation and Blood Khaganate

    Zion''s basically fighting on three fronts, folks, and let me tell you, their forces are looking thinner than a Celebrities selfie after the Photoshop filter. 40% casualties, they''re whispering in the war rooms - that''s enough soldiers to populate a small moon!

    Veronica leans in again, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper.

    But the real fireworks are yet to come, folks. Later this year, the bigwigs are throwing a shindig - the Conference of Conciliation, they call it. Sounds like a retirement home for world leaders, right? Wrong! This is where they''ll try to untangle the Hejaz Caliphate and Golden Caravan squabble before it explodes bigger than a thermonuclear popcorn machine. And let me tell you, if these two desert divas don''t learn to share their sandcastles, Zion''s gonna waltz right in and steal the whole beach!

    Veronica winks at the camera.

    Remember, folks, in this game of thrones, everyone''s got a crown of thorns, and Zion might just be learning that sometimes, the biggest victories come at the cost of the greatest losses. Until next time, stay safe, stay informed,

    - you never know who might be watching!

    Zion''s expression darkened as he absorbed the grim report. "This just keeps getting worse... The True Horde is proving to be a formidable opponent, and the Red Nation and Blood Khaganate are still putting up a fight. Now, the Hejaz Caliphate and Golden Caravan are poised to exploit our weakened state. It feels like we''re being attacked from all sides. I need a plan to turn this around before it''s too late."

    Trickster chimed in, "We''ve secured new pawns: Rashid from the Hejaz family and General Picot from the Golden Caravan. They could be pivotal in igniting a new conflict in the Mediterranean. But the upcoming conference poses a real threat; if world leaders unite against us, we''re finished."

    Zion nodded, "That''s promising news, Trickster. If we manipulate these pawns correctly, we might spark a new conflict. But you''re right; the conference is a major hurdle. We must tread carefully."

    Then Wraith, usually silent, spoke up with a husky voice, "We should blow up the Academy of Unity during the conference, making it look like a third-party attack. That way, the world leaders will turn on each other."

    Zion''s eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you suggesting we blow up the Academy? And make it look like a third-party job? That could throw the conference into chaos, but it''s a risky move. What if they unite against us instead?"

    Wraith nodded, "I have an agent embedded in the Shangri-La Confederacy¡ªPramansha. We''ve been preparing this for a decade."

    Zion was taken aback. "A decade? That''s impressive. You''ve clearly put a lot of thought into this."

    Wraith simply replied, "There''s nothing more to say." He bowed slightly and left the room.

    The cold, calculated planning in Zion¡¯s war room stood in stark contrast to the desperate reality unfolding on the ground. At the Xian base, Nkosi listened intently as reports of the Red Nation''s advances in Xinjiang flashed across the screen. her brow furrowed with concern. ¡°This is bad news. Zion is exploiting our distraction up north, and the Red Nation forces are overwhelming our positions in the south.

    Alam rubbed the back of his neck, recalling a grueling campaign from three years prior. ¡°I campaigned in that area. It¡¯s tough to defend. Zion¡¯s move there is a double-edged sword; it could cost them dearly.¡±

    Nkosi nodded, her expression grim. ¡°You¡¯re right. The vast desert makes it hard to secure. If we let them stretch their forces thin, we can counterattack when they¡¯re vulnerable.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Alam agreed. ¡°It¡¯s better to wait until they overextend. After five months of stalemate, we can afford to let them come to us.¡±

    ¡°Patience will be our ally,¡± Nkosi added, determination in her voice.

    Alam raised a critical question, ¡°But do you all have the patience to wait?¡±

    Nkosi looked at Artak, who was quietly observing the conversation. ¡°I believe we do. We¡¯ve held our ground, and our commitment to liberating the world from Zion¡¯s oppression is unwavering.¡±

    Artak then added ¡°yeah.. but waiting is can be seen as cowardience for our people. we must balance attacking. and defending.. its not about fight the enemy soldier.. but maintain our image as soldier¡±

    Alam sighed, ¡°My domain in China is strong, but my territories in Central Asia are scattered. If Zion pushes into the Black Sea, it could be a major challenge.¡±

    Nkosi nodded. ¡°Your strength in China is a solid foundation, but we must remain vigilant. We can''t let Zion gain a foothold in your region.¡±

    Alam tapped his chin thoughtfully. ¡°I know my vassals in Central Asia will resent me for this, but let them hate me.¡±

    ¡°Tough decisions are necessary for the greater good,¡± Nkosi said. ¡°Protecting your territory is vital.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ anyway,¡± Alam said, shifting gears. ¡°Artak, why do you always carry that snake on your shoulder? Heh.¡±

    Artak¡¯s eyes sparkled with pride as he gestured to the coiling serpent. ¡°My snake is my companion. We have a very special bond. It symbolizes power and wisdom, and I cherish it dearly.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Like a wife?¡± Alam teased, a grin spreading across his face.

    Artak laughed, clearly fond of his snake. ¡°You could say that. It¡¯s been loyal to me through a lot. I really value its companionship.¡±

    Alam nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. ¡°It¡¯s nice to have a bond with something¡­¡± He glanced at a beautiful Himalayan painting on the wall.

    ¡°Having connections can really lift your spirits,¡± Artak said, following Alam''s gaze. ¡°Whether it¡¯s a friend, family, or even a pet, strong relationships give us purpose and belonging.¡±

    They both took a moment to admire the painting, its vibrant colors standing out against the tense atmosphere of their conversation.

    ¡°Anyway, can I see your sword, Alam?¡± Artak grinned.

    ¡°Sure¡± Alam replied, drawing his silver long sword. ¡°I got this during my adventures at sea.¡±

    Artak nodded, appreciating the craftsmanship. He then pulled out his own curved sword. ¡°An officer without a sword isn¡¯t properly dressed for the Golden Caravan. we got a nice sting ray leather handle, with fine steel for its blade¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow and instinctively touched the curved blade, examining it. ¡°Interesting. Art, did you ever kill someone with it?¡±

    Artak nodded, reminiscing about past battles. ¡°Yeah, we took out a lot of neo-Nazis in Europe. Some of them were dressed like Ancient Romans when we slaughtered them.¡± His white snake lifted its head, as if it understood the gravity of the moment.

    Alam smiled slightly. ¡°You¡¯re lucky. You can use your sword and actually kill someone with it. Those were simpler times. I wish I could do that too, instead of just spamming bullets and explosions on the battlefield.¡±

 Chapter 85 Bomb news

    then at monitor

    Good evening, fellow armchair gladiators! Welcome back to Witty World News, where the only thing spicier than the conflict zones is our humor. Tonight, we serve up a geopolitical smorgasbord of Crescent Alliance vs. Red Nation under Zion (can we all agree that''s a band name waiting to happen?).

    Turns out, Zion''s expansionist ambitions are hitting more snags than a cactus convention. The Crescent Alliance, those regional heavyweights, are throwing punches like a kung fu panda on double espresso. Meanwhile, the True Horde, led by Alam, is galloping across Central Asia like Genghis Khan with a GPS. Trying to Reconquering it again.

    And buckle up, history nerds, because the Conference of Conciliation in academy of unity. promises to be more dramatic than a Shakespearean play with jetpacks. World leaders hoping to trip up Zion''s red carpet dreams.

    So stay tuned, folks, because this epic saga is just getting started. Who will rise, who will fall, and who will accidentally start a war using carrier pigeons and misinterpreted emojis? Tune in next time for the hilarious, tragic, and undeniably captivating answer! Remember,

    knowledge is power, laughter is oxygen, and keeping an eye on the shifting sands of political turmoil is the only way to avoid getting buried.

    This is Witty World News, signing off. Stay informed, stay safe, and keep your tin foil hats handy, because things are about to get weird.

    Psstt.. What we find in world conference in next month? Do we finally get ww4?

    At the Zion base, Zion chuckled at Veronica''s dramatic report. While she had a flair for the theatrical, the situation was undeniably serious. The Crescent Alliance and the True Horde had dealt Zion several blows lately, and with world leaders convening at the Conference of Conciliation, the pressure on him was about to increase. Tension simmered in the air; anything could ignite a massive conflict. The fate of global stability was hanging by a thread.

    ¡°Sir, we¡¯ve got a call from Alam. Do you want to accept it?¡± a red officer asked, breaking his thoughts.

    Zion nodded. ¡°Of course, put him through.¡±

    The monitor flickered to life, revealing Alam''s face. ¡°Hey¡­¡±

    Zion smiled, ¡°Alam, my friend! How can I help you?¡±

    ¡°Let me get this straight. You prefer to fight to the bitter end, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Zion chuckled, ¡°That¡¯s one way to sum it up. Yes, I do prefer to fight to the bitter end. There¡¯s a saying: ¡®No mercy, no retreat, only forward.¡¯ What about you, Alam?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mind being removed from power for the greater good,¡± Alam replied, ¡°but having my hands tied feels worse than death.¡±

    Zion leaned forward, intrigued. ¡°That¡¯s an admirable sentiment. You¡¯re willing to sacrifice your power for others. But, as you say, tied hands can be worse than death. It all comes down to perspective. I¡¯ve met many who would rather fight to the bitter end.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ who were you before becoming the leader of Zion?¡± Alam asked, curiosity evident in his tone.

    Zion paused to reflect. ¡°I was a gladiator in the Blood Khaganate. I survived many battles in the Arena, gaining a reputation as a formidable warrior. My desire for victory and the need to protect those I cared about shaped who I am today.¡±

    ¡°Do you sometimes feel you had more freedom in the Arena than you do now?¡± Alam probed.

    Zion nodded thoughtfully. ¡°That¡¯s a good question. Sometimes I wonder if I had more freedom back then. I was only responsible for myself and could fight without restrictions. There¡¯s an element of that freedom I miss.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, me too,¡± Alam admitted. ¡°I feel my current power is destroying my freedom and my character.¡±

    ¡°I understand that feeling, Alam. Power has a way of changing us¡ªit can corrupt us,¡± Zion said, his voice somber. ¡°But we must remember who we are at our core and strive to maintain our integrity, no matter how much power we gain.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re wise about that. Do you ever feel¡­ arrogant?¡± Alam asked

    Zion considered this. ¡°I do feel arrogance sometimes. When I look back at some of my choices, I see a hint of arrogance in my actions. It¡¯s something I¡¯ve had to come to terms with, and I try to keep it in check. Humility and integrity are crucial, and I strive to maintain them in my leadership.¡±

    ¡°Do you see me as arrogant, too?¡± Alam asked,A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Zion laughed lightly. ¡°You can be a bit arrogant at times, Alam. It¡¯s part of your personality. But you also have a good heart and a strong sense of duty. Those qualities outweigh any arrogance you may possess.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Alam said, contemplating Zion¡¯s words. ¡°Would you be interested in meeting? No tricks, no ambushes, no poison gas,¡ªjust two men meeting in a neutral place.¡±

    Zion raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°I would like that. Where do you want to meet?¡±

    ¡°Java. Let Banyan host us. I kind of trust him despite his¡­ mad behavior.¡±

    Zion nodded. ¡°Java sounds good. Banyan may be unorthodox, but I agree he can provide a neutral location. Let¡¯s meet at the ruins of the ancient temple at the center of the island. It¡¯s historically significant and should allow us to talk privately.¡±

    ¡°Very good. We¡¯ll meet before the conference at the Academy of Unity next month,¡± Alam confirmed.

    ¡°Agreed. The conference will be a pivotal moment in world history, and I look forward to our discussion beforehand. I will see you then, Alam.¡±

    Alam nodded, closing his eyes as the call ended.

    Zion was left pondering their conversation. Alam seemed open to dialogue and willing to meet privately. But a nagging feeling lingered in his mind. Why would Alam want to meet before the conference? Was it a trap, or just a friendly gesture? Only time would tell.

    stone made theater, the host turned to the camera with a grin. ¡°Dear viewers, tonight we bring you a special guest. The world is witnessing a rising power in the southeastern region¡ªthe Orange Nation, or Nusantara Union. Currently on final phase of civil war, we have the controversial leader of a cult, Monsoon Banyan, joining us who emerge as victor in the region.¡±

    The tension in the room was palpable as the audience learned that Monsoon¡¯s cult was infamous throughout the nation, a key force in the Orange Nation rebellion. The reporter leaned in, her voice steady. ¡°So, Monsoon, what do you think about Zion expanding their sphere of influence?¡±

    Monsoon, a man with dark brown hair, wearing a orange grab like a buddhist monk. his expresion is calm and collected, smiled. ¡°Thank you for having me. Zion is not just a threat to our region; they pose a danger to global peace. They are a modern crusader state, wielding religious zealotry as justification for their violence. We sought peace, but we¡¯re tired of their lies. Their expansionism must be stopped, and we¡¯re prepared to pay any price to make that happen.¡±

    The reporter pressed on, eyebrows raised. ¡°Can you explain your beliefs? I¡¯ve heard rumors of human sacrifice among your followers.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that is true,¡± Monsoon acknowledged, his tone serious yet unflinching. ¡°We worship Baal, the god of storm, fire, and fertility. Our faith teaches that good and evil are two sides of the same coin, and we must maintain that balance. Human sacrifice is how we honor Baal, granting us power and protection.¡±

    ¡°A lot of people see your practices as extreme,¡± the reporter countered. ¡°How do you respond to that criticism?¡±

    ¡°I understand it may seem extreme,¡± Monsoon replied thoughtfully. ¡°But we believe we¡¯re fighting against a greater evil. Our sacrifices are necessary to achieve our goals and honor Baal.¡±

    A week later, Alam arrived in the Nusantara Union, heading to the official meeting place¡ªa flashy building adorned with neon lights, reminiscent of a red-light district in Neo Las Vegas. It was hidden from public view, a clandestine hub of activity.

    Settling into a luxurious couch, Alam glanced around the recreational space before addressing Monsoon, who was seated across from him. ¡°So¡­ can I ask something?¡±

    ¡°Feel free to ask me anything,¡± Monsoon replied, confidence radiating from him. ¡°I¡¯m here to aid the peace process between you and Zion. Nothing is off-limits.¡±

    Alam leaned in, curiosity piqued. ¡°It¡¯s not about Zion. It¡¯s about you. How do you maintain power despite international pressure?¡±

    Monsoon chuckled, a glint of pride in his eye. ¡°There are a couple of reasons. My followers are fiercely loyal, willing to fight for me. That gives me a strong foundation. I¡¯ve also built an effective network of allies in the region, including the Crescent Alliance. Those connections help me maintain control.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re not entirely neutral then,¡± Alam replied, a smirk playing on his lips. ¡°And how did you manage to revive an old religion like Baal¡¯s? It was considered extinct, right?¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± Monsoon admitted. ¡°But my teachings have revived those beliefs. I¡¯ve made Baal¡¯s teachings accessible, creating a strong community of believers who are devoted to spreading our faith.¡±

    Alam chuckled. ¡°hehe, In desperate times, people are eager to try new things, huh?¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± Monsoon agreed, leaning back. ¡°Baal worship offers people a new perspective and a sense of purpose during chaos. I provide comfort and guidance in uncertain times, creating a community that supports each other.¡±

    ¡°hmhm What¡¯s the purpose of life in your eyes?¡± Alam asked, genuinely curious.

    Monsoon pondered for a moment. ¡°Life¡¯s purpose varies from person to person, but for me, it¡¯s about living fully and making every moment count. Baal worship encourages embracing life¡¯s chaos and striving for balance.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s the main difference between myth and religion?¡±

    ¡°Ah, good question,¡± Monsoon replied. ¡°A myth is a story, often legendary. Religion, however, is a structured system of beliefs and practices that addresses the spiritual needs of its followers. Myths might involve supernatural elements, while religion focuses on shared values and rituals. In short, myths tell stories; religions foster faith and worship.¡±

    Alam leaned back, a playful grin on his face. ¡°Hehe¡­ but you see, before your revival, Baal was considered just a myth.¡±

    Monsoon Banyan nodded, his demeanor serious yet proud. ¡°You¡¯re right. The Baal cult was merely a myth until I breathed life back into it. Now, we follow a set of principles, beliefs, and rituals. Baal is revered as a god of creation, destruction, and fertility¡ªa source of power and guidance.¡±

    ¡°Can I say that religion is just a more structured and popular version of a myth?¡± Alam ventured, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Exactly! That¡¯s a good way to think about it,¡± Monsoon replied, a hint of enthusiasm in his voice. ¡°Religion organizes the core beliefs of the myth into a framework, making it accessible to a wider audience. Both serve to provide purpose and guidance in life. The main difference is in the organization and structure, but ultimately, both help people find meaning.¡±

    After a thoughtful pause, Alam leaned in, an idea forming. ¡°Hehe¡­ I know it¡¯s different, but do you see similarities between ideology and religion? To me, the ideology of nations is like the material version of a religion.¡±

    Monsoon¡¯s interest peaked. ¡°Material version of religion? Are you saying ideology is like a real-world application of religious teachings?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Alam affirmed.

    Monsoon considered this. ¡°I can see your point. Ideology functions like the material aspect of religion, shaping a nation¡¯s policies and actions. Both provide guiding principles and values for individuals. Ideologies are the nuts and bolts of a nation¡¯s identity, while religions embody the soul and spirit.¡±

    ¡°That''s a good way to put it,¡± Alam said, lifting a cup filled with a mysterious red liquid from the table. He paused before taking a sip. ¡°Is this tea?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Monsoon replied, a twinkle in his eye. ¡°It¡¯s my famous tea, crafted from a special blend of herbs and spices infused with the essence of Baal. It¡¯s said to enhance longevity, improve mental clarity, and protect against sickness. Would you like to try some?¡±

    Alam¡¯s eyes widened slightly. ¡°Ehem. No blood in it, right? Heh.¡±

    Monsoon laughed heartily. ¡°No blood, I assure you! This brew is completely blood-free.¡± He offered the drink to Alam, who accepted it with a sigh of relief.

    ¡°Okay, thank you¡­ that¡¯s a relief.¡± Alam took a cautious sip. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s quite good! It¡¯s refreshing¡­ reminds me of some distant memories.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you like it,¡± Monsoon said, sipping his own drink. ¡°This blend has been passed down through generations. Many say it brings back fond memories of better times.¡± His expression softened, a sense of peace washing over him as he savored the flavor.

    Outside, beyond the neon-lit temple, a transpod pod descended, its landing thrusters briefly illuminating the temple¡¯s gaudy facade. From within emerged a figure with fiery red hair: Zion. He hadn¡¯t come for tea.

 Chapter 86 Three Aces

    Zion stepped into the neon-lit chaos of the Nusantara Union, he flanked by his pretorian amazon guard. hence now with many new faces among them.

    the orange soldier then make a way for zion. they then arrive at once a complex of temple. but with neon and half nude woman dancing,

    his eyes widening at the vibrant display. The city felt like a twisted version of Las Vegas, with its flashing lights and glassy facades. As he approached the transparent building, surrounded by exotic park, he Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he pushed through the entrance.

    Inside, he found Alam and Monsoon Banyan deep in conversation, their voices a blend of intensity and purpose. Zion took a seat and observed them, feeling a mix of anticipation and tension. The atmosphere was charged. When the discussion finally came to a pause, Alam and Zion exchanged glances across the table.

    Banyan smiled, sipping his tea. ¡°Zion, welcome to our meeting. It¡¯s not often we have such a civilized conversation between our sides. I have high hopes for a positive outcome.¡±

    Zion returned the smile, ¡°It¡¯s indeed a pleasure to meet in this setting. I, too, hope our discussions will yield fruitful results. Let¡¯s set aside our differences and work toward a brighter future.¡±

    Alam set his tea down, a teasing smile crossing his lips. ¡°Good to see you. You¡¯re a bit paler in person than on screen.¡±

    Zion chuckled, ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to see you as well, Alam. Yes, I may be a tad more pale than usual. The stress of leadership can take its toll. But I¡¯m glad we¡¯re finally meeting face-to-face.¡±

    ¡°Alright then. As we know, the Crescent Alliance¡¯s main army is arriving in my territory, ready for a long, bitter fight against you. They¡¯ve even given me a special place at the next conference to rally support from the world leaders against you.¡±

    Zion nodded, the weight of Alam''s words sinking in. ¡°Yes, the Crescent Alliance has gathered their forces. They¡¯re prepared for a protracted battle, and I understand they plan to offer you a prominent role at the conference in exchange for your support.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. If it comes to it, you¡¯ll lose... on paper,¡± Alam said, a hint of satisfaction in his tone.

    Zion stared intently at Alam. ¡°So you believe I will lose at the conference? But do you really think the Crescent Alliance will honor their word and give you that special place?¡±

    ¡°I do believe,¡± Alam said, sighing heavily. ¡°But before all the world turns against you, why not just surrender? You¡¯ve gained a lot of territory already.¡±

    Zion shook his head stubbornly. ¡°You make a good point. I have acquired a lot of territory¡ªand I could surrender. But it¡¯s not the land I care about; it¡¯s the people living there. I want to create a better world for them and protect them from the Crescent Alliance. That¡¯s why I won¡¯t surrender.¡±

    Alam laughed lightly. ¡°You can say that if you¡¯re the defender, but everyone knows you¡¯re the aggressor. To protect your loved ones, you should stop being the aggressor.¡±

    Zion paused, contemplating Alam¡¯s words. He realized the truth in them. As the aggressor, he was indeed a threat to global stability. Yet surrendering meant losing everything he¡¯d fought for. It was a damned-if-I-do, damned-if-I-don¡¯t situation.

    ¡°So¡­¡± Alam prompted.

    Zion sighed, looking deeply at Alam. ¡°What should I do? Surrender and end this conflict, or continue fighting to protect the people in the territories I¡¯ve gained? It¡¯s a difficult choice, but I don¡¯t want to betray the trust of those who follow me.¡±

    Alam¡¯s voice softened. ¡°I can see the grim fate on your face. If you surrender, perhaps we could have a better world. But without international support, someone will kick you from power.¡±

    Zion nodded solemnly. ¡°That¡¯s a distinct possibility. If I surrender, someone else will seize control. It would be worse than defeat in battle because I¡¯d lose everything I¡¯ve worked for.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you want peaceful times?¡± Alam asked, a hint of sympathy in his tone. ¡°Like when you were nobody, wandering without a care?¡±

    ¡°I would love peaceful times,¡± Zion admitted, weariness creeping into his voice. ¡°I''ve been through so much conflict and violence, and I¡¯m tired of it. I want to live without fear, but as a leader, I can¡¯t just sit back. I have to ensure the safety of my people, even if it means making tough decisions.¡±

    Monsoon Banyan listened intently, his eyes glimmering with interest. He remained silent, sipping his tea as he absorbed their conversation.

    After a moment of reflection, Alam broke the silence. ¡°What are your hobbies?¡±

    Zion laughed, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. ¡°Good question! I suppose I don¡¯t really have hobbies. I spend most of my time reading and studying. I enjoy observing the world around me and discussing different perspectives with others. It helps me gain insight and express my thoughts.¡±

    ¡°Ah, but I think your true hobby is defeating your enemies in war games,¡± Alam teased.

    Zion smirked, ¡°Well, you¡¯re not wrong about that. There¡¯s satisfaction in outsmarting my opponents. It keeps my strategic thinking sharp, so I suppose you could say that defeating enemies in war games is indeed one of my hobbies.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how to defeat me?¡± Alam asked, a challenge in his voice.

    Zion paused, considering the question. ¡°I¡¯ve spent a lot of time studying your strategies. I believe I have a good understanding of your military operations and could develop counter-strategies. It would be a challenging fight, but with the right preparation, I think I could defeat you.¡±

    Alam leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and a bemused smile dancing on his lips. "You know what I admire about you, Zion? Your persistence. The world is against you, yet you remain optimistic. Or perhaps delusional, considering the mess we''re in."

    Zion chuckled, a sound that was both light-hearted and tinged with the weight of reality. "Delusional? Maybe. It would be easier to throw in the towel and wallow in pessimism. But I believe hope and optimism are essential for a leader. Some may call it delusion, but I call it determination." He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with fervor. "I will keep pushing forward, no matter the odds."

    Alam raised an eyebrow, his expression playful yet probing. "So, no matter how many territories you conquer, you won¡¯t stop, huh?"

    Zion shook his head, a resolute grin spreading across his face. "Absolutely not. I won¡¯t stop fighting for my people, not against the Crescent Alliance or anyone else. My goal is to unite the world under one flag." He paused, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Sure, it might sound a tad delusional, but that¡¯s just who I am. I believe in my cause."

    Alam laughed softly, a sound like bubbling water. "But why one flag? Doesn¡¯t that sound a bit boring? Like a world made entirely of oatmeal?"

    Zion¡¯s laughter joined Alam¡¯s, brightening the room. "You make a fair point. A single flag might drain the color from our lives. It could stifle creativity and diversity. But I think that a unified world would offer benefits: harmony, consistency, and perhaps a little less chaos. I mean, who needs division and conflict to stay entertained, right?"

    Alam leaned back, arms folded, mock seriousness etched across his face. "Oh, but we need division and conflict! They¡¯re the mirrors that reflect our true selves."

    Zion shook his head, his expression one of earnest conviction. "I disagree. Division breeds pain and suffering. We don¡¯t need to be split apart by race, religion, or politics. Unity could reduce the likelihood of war and violence. I believe that peace paves the way for progress."

    Alam sighed dramatically, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. "Heavy sigh... World conquest is a fantasy, Zion. Even if you take over the world, how will you keep it? Look at history: the Soviet Union, the British Empire¡ªgone, like a bad magic trick."

    Zion nodded thoughtfully, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly. "You¡¯re right. History shows that world conquest is elusive, if not impossible. Even if I succeeded, maintaining control would be a challenge. Rebellions, civil wars¡ªmy empire would likely crumble. So yes, a unified world may be a wishful dream, but I still cling to the hope that cooperation and mutual respect can lead us to a better future."

    Alam raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "So, why bother trying?"

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Zion paused, contemplating the question as if it were the most profound riddle. "Because I want to believe in the idea. It¡¯s not just about success or failure. It¡¯s about the effort. I want to create a better world for humanity. I want to believe it¡¯s possible."

    Alam facepalmed dramatically, laughter bubbling forth. "You know you¡¯re going to fail, right? But still, you push forward?"

    Just then, Monsoon Banyan, a man with a penchant for mischief and a twinkle in his eye, took a sip of his tea, the steam curling upwards like a ghostly whisper. "Your idea is admirable, Zion," he said, his tone a mix of mockery and sincerity. "Your determination and stubbornness shine through. But let¡¯s be honest, you¡¯re the only one on this crusade. Your idealism won¡¯t bring happiness to everyone. Conflict and rebellion are part of human nature; it¡¯s like trying to teach cats to fetch."

    Zion met Banyan¡¯s gaze, unyielding. "You might be right, but I believe my vision can lead to happiness. If we eliminate divisions, we can create a world of peace and harmony. It¡¯s worth striving for, no matter the cost."

    Banyan chuckled, a sound like distant thunder on the room. "You know what I admire about you? Your positivity in the face of despair. Most men would be drowning in worry, but here you are, grinning like a fool."

    Alam chimed in, laughter bubbling forth. "Right? Even the most antagonistic person has something to teach us!"

    With a playful glint in his eye, Banyan leaned closer. "Now, for the real question¡ªdo you have a girlfriend, Zion?"

    A grin spread across Zion¡¯s face,. "What can I say? I''m an optimist. But no, I don¡¯t have a girlfriend. I¡¯m too focused on my goals to think about romance."

    Banyan¡¯s tone shifted, becoming teasing. "Ah, but tell me, do you know what women want?"

    Zion chuckled, tilting his head. "I have a general idea, but I¡¯m sure there¡¯s more depth to it. What do you think women want?"

    With a knowing smile, Banyan replied, "Women want a man who can protect and provide, someone confident and assertive, willing to commit and make sacrifices. So, no girlfriend, huh?"

    Zion nodded, laughter mingling with sincerity. "As I said, I¡¯m focused on my ambitions. Romance is a luxury I can¡¯t afford right now."

    Monsoon Banyan leaned back, chuckling with a knowing glint in his eye. ¡°Let me guide you, my young pupil. To win a woman''s heart, you must be confident, but not cocky; assertive, but not aggressive; committed, but not obsessive. Now tell me, what¡¯s the first step to getting a girlfriend?¡±

    Zion pondered the question, his brow furrowing in concentration. ¡°I¡¯d say the first step is to be confident but not cocky. Confidence grabs attention. Once you¡¯ve got that, you need to be assertive without being pushy. It¡¯s about showing interest without being clingy.¡±

    Banyan nodded, pleased. ¡°Good! Now, what¡¯s the second step, the one that many young men overlook?¡±

    Zion took a moment, tapping his fingers against the table. ¡°The second step is effective communication. You have to express yourself clearly and listen carefully. Communication builds the foundation of any relationship, especially romantic ones.¡±

    ¡°Excellent!¡± Banyan exclaimed, sipping his. ¡°Now, can you guess the final step?¡±

    Zion thought hard, the gears in his mind turning. ¡°Hmm¡­ The final step is to be committed to the relationship, but not overly so. You need to strike a balance between showing you care and giving her space. Otherwise, you risk suffocating her.¡±

    Banyan clapped his hands softly, a grin spreading across his face. ¡°Very good! Now, summarize what we¡¯ve discussed.¡±

    Zion smiled, feeling a surge of pride. ¡°The three steps to getting a girlfriend are: be confident but not cocky, be assertive but not aggressive, and be committed but not obsessive. These steps are crucial for attracting a woman and building a healthy relationship.¡±

    ¡°Now we¡¯re getting somewhere!¡± Banyan beamed, a twinkle in his eye. ¡°But before we move on, I have one last question. Do you believe these three steps can truly make a woman fall in love with you?¡±

    Zion grinned, nodding eagerly. ¡°Absolutely! When done right, they lay the groundwork for a healthy relationship. It¡¯s all about balance¡ªconfidence, assertiveness, commitment, and respecting her space.¡±

    ¡°Ah, my pupil,¡± Banyan said, his tone shifting to a more serious note, ¡°I think you¡¯re ready to level up. You¡¯re no longer just a student; you¡¯re becoming my pupil. Are you ready to learn the ultimate truth about women?¡±

    Zion¡¯s enthusiasm bubbled over. ¡°Yes! I want to understand everything about women and what they want.¡±

    Banyan chuckled, then leaned in, his voice low and conspiratorial. ¡°Now, before we begin, repeat after me: ¡®I am a man; all women are mine to take.¡¯¡±

    Zion, caught up in the moment, grinned and repeated, ¡°I am a man; all women are mine to take.¡±

    Banyan¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°Remember this, my pupil: all women are yours. It is your duty to claim them. Never let them go; make them your property, your subjects to command!¡±

    Alam, who had been quietly sipping his tea, raised an eyebrow, incredulous. ¡°That¡¯s quite a statement, Banyan. Now I understand why you don¡¯t want the media listening to our conversation.¡±

    Banyan chuckled, taking another sip of his tea. ¡°Of course! We wouldn¡¯t want them to misunderstand our teachings.¡±

    Zion, still processing Banyan¡¯s words, interjected, ¡°But isn¡¯t a woman a human being with her own thoughts and feelings? She¡¯s not an object to be taken; she deserves respect as an equal.¡±

    Banyan¡¯s demeanor shifted, his tone growing serious. ¡°This is where you¡¯re mistaken, my pupil. When a woman chooses a man, she loses part of her humanity. She becomes less than the man she loves; she becomes an object of desire.¡±

    Alam set his cup down, the clatter echoing in the quiet room. ¡°Not just women, Banyan. Men can lose their identity too.¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± Banyan agreed, nodding. ¡°This applies to both. Anyone who enters a relationship sacrifices a part of their identity to form a new union with another person.¡±

    Zion fell silent, grappling with the weight of Banyan¡¯s words. The idea that love could come with such a steep cost unsettled him. He had never considered that a relationship might demand the loss of identity, and the thought that it applied to both men and women left him feeling uneasy. In that moment, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder about the true nature of love and partnership, and whether such sacrifices were ever truly worth it.

    Alam sniffed the air, curiosity dancing in his eyes. ¡°So, what exactly is a pupil?¡±

    Monsoon Banyan chuckled. ¡°A pupil is like your student or disciple, the novice who¡¯s just starting to learn the basics. Think of them as a baby in need of guidance to rise to their mentor¡¯s level¡ªor even surpass them. In this sense, the pupil is a newborn, and the mentor is like a parent to this little one.¡±

    Alam smirked, his eyebrows raised playfully. ¡°So, you¡¯re trying to assert dominance over us, huh? Hehe.¡±

    Banyan chuckled again, a twinkle in his eye. ¡°Well, in a sense, yes!¡±

    ¡°Ahahaha! You¡¯re funny, Banyan. No deals, then. This has been a hilarious meeting! Now, show us the spectacle of your nation,¡± Alam said, a grin spreading across his face.

    Zion leaned in, enthusiasm bubbling. ¡°I would love to learn more about you and your country, Banyan. Let¡¯s see its beauty!¡±

    Banyan took a sip of his tea, savoring the moment before launching into his tale. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s start! My nation is a scattered archipelago in what was once known as Southeast Asia, nestled amidst the remnants of Malaysia and Indonesia. We are the Naga Isles, though some still cling to the old name, ¡®Country of a Thousand Islands.¡¯ You likely won¡¯t find us on any standard cartographic projections anymore, not after the Rising. But we are a treasure trove of bio-engineered coral reefs, floating farms, and ancient temples reclaimed by the jungle, inhabited by a people who value harmony above all else.¡±

    As Banyan spoke, vivid images filled the air. Zion and Alam imagined intricate puppets casting dramatic shadows on a screen, performing tales of folklore and mythology, captivating their imaginations. They envisioned themselves visiting Pulau Kesenangan, where they would immerse themselves in the vibrant culture¡ªthe bustling markets alive with the scent of exotic spices, the sounds of traditional music echoing through the streets, and the colorful traditional dances that told stories of old.

    After a day of exploration, Zion prepared to return to his own nation, while Alam decided to stay a little longer. They marveled at the beauty of traditional local architecture, vibrant colors painting the landscape as the sun began to dip low in the sky.

    As their adventure drew to a close, they found themselves watching the sunset, the horizon ablaze with hues of orange and pink. The day had been a tapestry of experiences, and as they stood side by side, a sense of camaraderie blossomed between them¡ªtwo friends reflecting on the beauty they had witnessed in Banyan¡¯s homeland, ready to carry those memories back to their own worlds.

    As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across Pulau Kesenangan, Zion and Alam reveled in the enchanting performance of intricate puppets. Shadows danced on the screen, weaving tales of folklore and mythology that captivated their imaginations. The puppets moved with such grace that Zion felt he was not merely witnessing a show but stepping into the stories themselves. Each delicate figure was beautifully crafted, and the entire spectacle felt like a portal to another world.

    After a day of exploration, Zion prepared to return to his own nation, while Alam chose to linger a little longer, soaking in the vibrant culture. They had spent the day watching traditional martial arts, dances that told ancient stories, and listening to music that resonated with the spirit of the islands. The air was thick with the scent of exotic spices, a tantalizing invitation to savor every moment.

    As the day faded, Alam and Banyan reclined on lounge chairs, watching the sun sink into the sea, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

    ¡°Hmhm,¡± Alam mused, ¡°I used to conquer China, always trying to avoid indulging in too much¡­ pleasure with women. It¡¯s quite different from your approach.¡±

    Banyan chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. ¡°Ah, but we¡¯re both conquerors at heart. You may dominate women, just like I do, but there¡¯s more to it than that.¡±

    ¡°Still,¡± Alam replied, a hint of concern creeping in, ¡°it doesn¡¯t feel healthy in the long run.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Banyan asked, leaning back, his tone playful. ¡°It¡¯s in our nature to want to dominate. Women want to submit to the men they love, and that¡¯s just how it is. Guilt about it? That¡¯s a burden you don¡¯t need.¡±

    Alam frowned slightly. ¡°Sometimes I feel a stinging in my chest after all that conquest.¡±

    Banyan nodded, his expression shifting to one of concern. ¡°Ah, guilt. It¡¯ll weigh you down. The trick is to forget it¡ªembrace your nature as a man. It¡¯s useless to your ambitions.¡±

    Alam laughed, shaking his head. ¡°No, I think I want to be loyal after this.¡±

    Banyan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°Loyal, huh? But what does loyalty bring you? Happiness? Victory? Dominance?¡±

    ¡°Maybe with the right woman,¡± Alam replied thoughtfully.

    Banyan chuckled, ¡°If she¡¯s the right woman, sure. But what if she¡¯s not? Then your loyalty is wasted.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes,¡± Alam mused, ¡°it¡¯s better not to know too much.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Banyan agreed, his tone serious now. ¡°Emotions can cloud your judgment. If you¡¯re loyal and she¡¯s not, you risk losing your self-respect. You¡¯ll feel humiliated when the one you love betrays you.¡±

    ¡°Enough about women for now,¡± Alam said, redirecting the conversation. ¡°How did you come to all this wisdom? I know you¡¯re capable of violence, but it seems you prefer not to fight.¡±

    Banyan took a sip of his tea, a smile playing on his lips. ¡°You¡¯re right; I don¡¯t enjoy fighting. It hurts. Pain and blood are not my desires. But if I must, I won¡¯t hesitate to use my fists. I was born into violence and learned to be cruel. The difference between me and common criminals? I¡¯m just more creative in my cruelty.¡±

    ¡°Spicy story, indeed,¡± Alam laughed, leaning in. ¡°Please, continue.¡±

    ¡°Alright, my pupil,¡± Banyan said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°Let me tell you about my father. He was a drug kingpin, a ruthless man with many enemies and a fearsome reputation. Wealthy and powerful, he did as he pleased, but he was also cruel to my mother and me. When I turned ten, he took me to an abandoned building to teach me the ways of violence.¡±

    Alam¡¯s raise his eyebrows ¡°That must have been an unforgettable experience.¡±

    Banyan nodded, the weight of memory heavy in his gaze. ¡°It was terrifying. His eyes were filled with anger as he showed me how to be cruel. I¡¯ll never forget that dark, scary night.¡±

    ¡°What makes you different from him?¡± Alam asked, genuinely curious.

    Banyan sighed, his expression pensive. ¡°I¡¯m just like him, but I don¡¯t show my cruelty to my family or friends. They see the good side of me. My enemies, though? They get no mercy.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well, maybe your father didn¡¯t recognize his mistakes,¡± Alam suggested. ¡°But you do.¡±

    Banyan chuckled, nodding. ¡°True. My father never saw himself as wrong. He justified all his cruelty. I, on the other hand, recognize my faults and feel disgusted by my actions. That¡¯s how I differ.¡±

    ¡°Funny you feel disgusted,¡± Alam remarked. ¡°But will you ever change?¡±

    Banyan sighed deeply, contemplating. ¡°No, my pupil. I don¡¯t think I ever will. This darkness is part of who I am. If I became a ¡®good¡¯ person, I would lose my power, my dominance. I won¡¯t give that up.¡±

    Alam grinned, raising his cup. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be like you!¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Banyan laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to create my own rival. Be yourself, always.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of which,¡± Alam said, shifting gears, ¡°I know your nation is geographically isolated. Joining me in an attack on Zion wouldn¡¯t yield much gain. But if you lend your forces to me, I¡¯ll provide some tech.¡±

    Monsoon Banyan''s expression shifted from playful to serious, the atmosphere around them thickening with anticipation. ¡°What kind of tech are you offering us? What''s its purpose? And most importantly, what do you want in return?¡±

    Alam leaned in, his tone casual but confident. ¡°It¡¯s nothing dangerous¡ªjust some small arms designs and a power plant. In return, I want your army.¡±

    Banyan stared at him for a moment, his brow furrowing before a chuckle escaped his lips. ¡°Hmm, that sounds interesting. I¡¯ll have my experts check the designs. If they pass the inspection, we can discuss a trade agreement. When will this tech be ready, and how many units are we talking about? Also, I don¡¯t want to give you our entire army just yet. I need a portion for my personal safety and my loyal guard.¡±

    ¡°Of course, I understand your position,¡± Alam replied, nodding. ¡°We just need enough numbers to bolster our next offensive. And about the tech¡ªdon¡¯t worry. I¡¯m well aware that it has to benefit both of us in the long run. No trickery from my side.¡±

    Banyan stroked his chin, a thoughtful look crossing his face. ¡°It seems this trade offer is worth considering. I¡¯ll discuss the tech with my council. You can also speak to my general about the number of troops you need for your offensive. If everything goes smoothly and you agree to my conditions, this could mark the beginning of a prosperous trade agreement between our nations.¡±

    ¡°Sounds good,¡± Alam said, raising his cup with a grin. ¡°For freedom!¡±

    Banyan lifted his glass in response, his smile returning. ¡°For victory, for honor, and for our nations¡¯ freedom! Cheers!¡±

    The two clinked their cups together, laughter mingling with the fading sunlight, signaling the dawn of a new alliance.

 Chapter 87 Into The Emerald

    As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Emerald League border, Hazel and others waited anxiously for the green light to enter. Huddled inside a tent, they couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of anticipation.

    The Emerald League, known as the Green Nation, had a knack for transforming barren deserts into lush greenery, thanks to their ancient technology that altered the soil. Their cities were famous for extravagant parks that felt like something out of a dream.

    In the tent, Hazel turned to Patrick and Nara, eager to hear their thoughts on the latest news.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a relief we decided to defect from the Red Nation,¡± Hazel said, a mix of hope and anxiety in her voice. ¡°If we¡¯d stayed there, we¡¯d be toast for sure.¡±

    on emerald council. they start discussing apperance of hazel

    the first council member speak up ¡°those deflector is defeating one our major contractor in afghanistan, we must reject their visa, and ransom send them back to zion for proper spanking¡±

    but then the second council member speak ¡°but tide of war is no longer in zion advantage.. we must took whatever chance throw at us¡±

    the third council speak up ¡°yeah.. plus we dont had enough soldier to send them back. their heavy tanks is too menacing for our security team¡±

    nigel the white hair young man are among them. but he look at kaveh his father first. kaveh then speak ¡°soon. all nation will persecute zion ,, changing alliance is the best course of war,, but we will keep remains neutral in this conflict. we will give these deflector to our merc, who knows.. perhaps zion wanna hire them?

    then all council member laugh, except nigel. he know these all people in here are just gangster playing goverment. but something dangerous will looming a head. he can feel it

    After a week of waiting, studying, and cultural tests, the news finally came: they were allowed to stay in the Emerald League. The atmosphere shifted, anticipation crackling in the air.

    Hazel turned to Nara. ¡°So, you were a student at the academy, right? What was it like?¡±

    Nara¡¯s face lit up. ¡°The academy is one of the best schools in the world! It has famous alumni and top-notch study materials. Plus, it¡¯s secure and safe from attacks. Honestly, it¡¯s a fantastic place to learn.¡±

    Tetsuya, who had been quietly listening, piped up, ¡°You didn¡¯t ask me! I was a student too, hehe.¡±

    Hazel chuckled. ¡°Right, but what did you major in? Was it all about science, or did you study politics and military stuff too?¡±

    ¡°We learned to fight, manipulate, do art, and race¡­ and race¡­¡± Tetsuya said, his enthusiasm bubbling over, though he trailed off, lost in thought.

    Hazel grinned. ¡°That¡¯s cool! So it¡¯s not just about science. Sounds like a great place to pick up a variety of skills.¡±

    As they traveled through the Emerald League, the landscape transformed dramatically. Lush green forests and parks lined the road, showcasing why this region was known as the Green Nation. The breathtaking beauty of nature enveloped them, bringing a sense of peace that had been absent for too long.

    They soon arrived at the Academy of Unity, the venue for the upcoming world conference. The massive complex loomed before them, a hub where powerful personalities would gather to tackle pressing global issues. Nara dismounted from the tank, a wide grin spreading across her face as she gazed at her old stomping grounds. To her, the academy felt like a second home¡ªa beloved playground she hadn¡¯t visited in years.

    Hazel couldn¡¯t resist teasing her. ¡°I heard from Tetsuya that you once wanted to conquer this academy as a bancho, huh?¡±

    Nara laughed, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. ¡°Well, I did dream of being the strongest bancho back then. The academy was paradise for kids who idolized strong, cool bancho types. Looking back, it feels like such a childish dream, though.¡±

    Hazel nodded, impressed. ¡°That says a lot about you. A little girl wanting to be a bancho? You¡¯re brave!¡±

    Nara chuckled, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. ¡°Sure, it was a crazy dream for a little girl. But that dream motivated me to become a strong soldier. It¡¯s funny how those childhood aspirations shape who we become.¡±

    Meanwhile, the rest of the troop, including Patrick and Yu, stood in awe, their eyes wide as they took in the academy¡¯s grandeur. They had never seen a school like this, having only known the stark functionality of Red Nation military academies and the oppressive monotony of its factories.

    Here, ornate archways framed meticulously manicured gardens, stained-glass windows cast kaleidoscopic patterns on polished marble floors, and the air hummed with a quiet, almost scholarly energy. To them, this academy felt less like a place of learning and more like a palace ripped from a fairy tale, a stark contrast to the brutal reality they knew.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Alright, team,¡± Hazel called, his voice echoing slightly in the vast hall, snapping them out of their reverie. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work. Nara and Tetsuya, you two know the layout best, so take command of the patrol group. Patrick and Adam, you guard the central area. I¡¯ll be in the main hall to supervise the world leaders when they arrive.¡±

    The team members nodded, their expressions now focused and professional, the initial awe replaced by a sense of duty. Nara, however, could barely contain her excitement as she led the patrol squad through the familiar corridors. A faint smile played on her lips as she passed classrooms, remembering specific lessons, old friends, and simpler times. She almost danced with joy, rediscovering her old school, each familiar detail a comforting balm on the scars of war. The familiar surroundings made her feel, for the first time in a long time, truly at home.

    Later, the merc leader found Hazel in the center of the academy, amidst the growing bustle of preparations. ¡°You¡¯ve done well so far. I have no regrets about recruiting you,¡± the leader said, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°Don¡¯t praise me yet,¡± Hazel replied, her tone serious, her gaze fixed on the activity around them. ¡°Our real job isn¡¯t finished. The war isn¡¯t over until this conference is held and something tangible comes from it. We need more than just talk; we need to forge a true alliance to stop Zion once and for all.¡±

    As the days leading up to the conference ticked by, the academy became a hive of activity. Representatives and delegates from the nine major nations filled the halls, their voices a constant murmur of diplomatic negotiations and whispered anxieties. The atmosphere was charged with palpable tension.

    Reporters and journalists from around the world swarmed the grounds, their cameras flashing, their pens scribbling, all eager for any scrap of information. Excitement mixed with a deep undercurrent of anxiety as the global stakes rose, the looming threat of Zion and the unpredictable Crescent Alliance hanging over everything like a dark cloud.

    On the roof of a tall building within the academy, Hazel surveyed the scene below. The academy grounds teemed with people, a kaleidoscope of flags and uniforms. she turned to Patrick, who stood beside him, his gaze distant. ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡± Hazel asked, sensing his contemplative mood.

    ¡°I was just thinking,¡± Patrick replied, his voice thoughtful, almost hesitant. ¡°With all these world leaders gathered here, do you think they¡¯ll actually find a way to end this¡­ or is something even worse brewing beneath the surface?¡±

    Hazel shook her head, but her expression was troubled. ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant. I¡¯m talking about you. You were a diehard Red Army supporter, practically a poster boy for their cause. Now you¡¯re a defector, fighting alongside us.¡±

    Patrick sighed, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. He began to contemplate his journey, the long road from New York, the perilous crossing of the Bering Strait, the brutal realities of the Winter War. He''d witnessed firsthand the Red Army''s descent into brutality, the casual disregard for human life. It was only after reaching the Emerald League and being exposed to their media, their news reports, their perspective, that the truth became undeniable: They were the bad guys.

    ¡°No,¡± Patrick replied, his voice firm, though tinged with a hint of sadness. ¡°The Red Nation lost its way. What started with noble intentions twisted into a power grab, a dictatorial regime obsessed with control. It stopped being about the people and became about one man. I couldn¡¯t be a part of that anymore.¡±

    He took a deep breath, the weight of his past settling heavily on his shoulders. ¡°Sometimes,¡± he confessed, his voice barely a whisper, ¡°I feel the guilt of the things I did, the orders I followed blindly. I should have seen it sooner. I should have refused. But regrets¡­ they¡¯re a luxury I can¡¯t afford right now. All I can do is move forward, try to atone for my mistakes by doing what¡¯s right. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here, fighting for the Emerald League, fighting for something¡­ better.¡±

    As he spoke, the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and gold, casting a warm glow over the academy, a silent, hopeful promise of a new dawn, a new chapter for them all, even as the shadows lengthened.

    meanwhile at east, Alam surveyed the report: the True Horde now boasted a staggering 3.5 million troops.

    "Good," he grinned, "we''re finally ready to go toe-to-toe with the Red Army¡ªor maybe even invade them. Heh."

    At the war council, Alam summoned his officers and generals, including Jax, Zhang, Baihu, Yang, and Zao, along with the True Horde warlords.

    "Alright, gentlemen and brave women," he began, "we''re now a formidable force in the world. But with this sudden growth, we lack coordination. My seven generals can''t manage this massive army alone. So, I propose we promote some talented officers to generals."

    The room fell silent as the officers absorbed his words, recognizing the gravity of the situation. Alam continued, "To avoid regional disputes, I want honesty and trust among us. Everyone will face the same test¡ªno exceptions, even for the ex-warlords."

    General Yang raised his hand, "What are the qualifications for this test, sir?"

    Alam replied, "It''ll assess military knowledge, administration, and initiative, but also morality, spirituality, and mental fitness. A good general must have character."

    General Baihu stood tall, "I am General Baihu, a former Garuda mercenary. With over twenty years of experience, I will not hesitate to slap you if you make a mistake, Alam."

    Alam chuckled, "I appreciate your honesty. Now, I want each of you to hold workshops every few months to refresh our minds and character."

    The generals nodded, recognizing the importance of mental well-being in their roles.

    General Zhang suggested, "We should implement a horizontal organization to foster collaboration and break down elitism among ranks."

    "Exactly," Alam agreed. "We need to maintain our ruthlessness, but remember, some blood must be spilled to achieve victory."

    General Yang added, "We must balance our aggression with humanity. A good general is both ruthless and compassionate."

    Alam clapped his hands, "Good! Any more suggestions?"

    General Baihu proposed a military culture program to promote respect and teamwork.

    "Let¡¯s find our own unique culture," Alam said, "drawing from the best of the Spartans and Mongols."

    As the meeting progressed, Alam emphasized the need for unity and innovation within the True Horde, setting the stage for a powerful reorganization that would prepare them for the challenges ahead.

    then after that. at night. fang who beside alam ask

    Fang leaned in, her voice steady. "Sir, the Crescent Alliance is hosting the World Conference next week, and they want you as a speaker. Will you attend, or should I represent you?"

    Alam shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. "No, I asked for the podium myself. I need to be there."

    "Understood. Your presence is crucial to assert the True Horde''s interests. I¡¯ll support you every step of the way," Fang replied, her determination evident.

    Alam stretched, a relaxed demeanor settling in. "Damn, we¡¯ve built an empire, haven¡¯t we?"

    "Indeed, sir. From victories to a thriving empire, the True Horde''s future looks bright," Fang affirmed.

    Alam chuckled, "What do you think about world conquest?"

    Fang''s eyes sparkled with ambition. "If we maintain our strength, it¡¯s within reach. Our enemies are weak and divided. With your leadership, we could dominate the global stage."

    Alam frowned. "No, let¡¯s not go down that path. We justify our actions to repel the Red Nation, not to become like them."

    Fang nodded. "Exactly. We must uphold our values and not let ambition compromise our principles. We should focus on creating a balance of power, allowing nations to govern themselves."

    "Right. I¡¯ll limit our influence to Central and Eastern Asia. Beyond that, it¡¯s the Wanderer''s task," Alam decided.

    "That¡¯s wise, sir. It keeps us strong and avoids overreach," Fang agreed.

    Alam spun in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "If I die, who should replace me?"

    "General Yang would be a strong candidate. He knows the True Horde inside and out," Fang suggested.

    "Reckless, though. What about Zhang?" Alam countered.

    "Zhang is capable, but Yang''s passion can be an asset. Both have their strengths," Fang explained.

    "Why not propose yourself?" Alam teased.

    Fang smiled, "I¡¯m loyal to you, sir. I have much to learn before I can lead."

    "Good girl," Alam said, patting her head, making her blush slightly. "Your dedication is appreciated."

    Fang  blushes slightly ¡± thank you, sir. I will continue to serve you and the True Horde with devotion and diligence. I will strive to grow as a leader and a warrior, and I will do my best to ensure the success of the True Horde.¡±

 Chapter 88 Academy of Unity

    On June 1, 2405, the atmosphere buzzed with tension as the world conference began at the Academy of Unity. The security team was on high alert, their nerves fraying as representatives from various nations entered the grand hall. The stakes were monumental¡ªif anything happened to a world leader, it could spell disaster for global peace.

    As the representatives settled into their seats, jozen, pramansha and holy see hologram is join. while other nation is send their deligate, a noticeable absence loomed in the air¡ªthe Red Nation¡¯s delegates had yet to arrive. Whispers of his potential assassination circulated among the attendees, eyes darting toward the empty chair that seemed to grow larger with each passing moment. Anxiety rippled through the crowd; the longer the delay, the more suspicious glances were exchanged.

    alam on the room. are still focusing on paper on left his hand for his future speech. while his right hand is munching peanuts who being serve on his table, some delegation look at nonchalant alam behavior. they muttered at themselves. alam sensing this. and muttered ¡°no.. i dont kill zion yet. heh¡±

    Finally, the academy''s headmaster rose, cutting through the murmur of unease. ¡°As you can see, the Red Nation is still absent. We will wait another two hours; if they have not arrived by then, we will commence the conference without them.¡±

    Just as the atmosphere thickened with uncertainty, the doors swung open, and the Red Nation representative hurried into the hall including zion himself. The headmaster cleared his throat again. ¡°Now that all representatives from the nine nations are present, we can begin our discussions.¡±

    The conference hall was filled with a palpable tension, the delegates seated in their assigned places, their expressions a mix of hope and apprehension. Pramansha, the leader of the Purple Nation, strode to the podium, exuding calm confidence. He began his speech, his voice steady and persuasive.

    ¡°Greetings, esteemed leaders of a fractured world. I stand before you not only as the leader of the Purple Nation but as a humble monk, a witness to the folly of man.¡± Behind him, a holographic image flickered to life, showing smoldering ruins of a Red Nation city¡ªthe devastating aftermath of a recent Crescent Alliance attack.

    ¡°The Red Nation bleeds,¡± Pramansha continued, his voice rising with passion. ¡°The Crescent Alliance¡¯s attack is not merely a skirmish but a brazen display of neocolonialism, a cancer festering on the body of our unity.¡± His hands gestured emphatically, silencing the murmurs rippling through the hall.

    ¡°This is not a clash of cultures but a land grab veiled in righteousness. The Red Nation, a leviathan hungry for dominion, seeks to devour the fringes of its domain, while the Crescent Alliance, ever vigilant, reacts like a cornered beast.¡± Pramansha¡¯s eyes flashed with intensity. ¡°Is this the peace we strive for?¡±

    He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. ¡°I say no! We, the children of a scarred Earth, deserve more than this endless cycle of violence.¡± He turned his gaze toward the Red Nation delegates. ¡°To you, leaders of the Red Nation, I offer this: lay down your guns, embrace the open hand of diplomacy. Your strength lies not in subjugation but in the prosperity of your people.¡±

    Pramansha¡¯s words hung in the air, heavy with conviction. ¡°And to you, guardians of the East, cast aside your fear. Trust must be your shield. Only then can we forge a future bathed in peace, not war.¡±

    His voice softened, a sly smile creeping onto his lips. ¡°But perhaps some among you doubt my sincerity. If peace is but a fleeting dream, allow me to offer a demonstration.¡±

    With a swift gesture, he activated a hidden comm device. Suddenly, a team of Purple Nation special ops soldiers, clad in shimmering camouflage, emerged from concealed hatches within the hall. They moved with precision, disarming stunned delegates and assuming key positions.

    ¡°Fear not, esteemed colleagues,¡± Pramansha reassured them, his demeanor calm amidst the chaos. ¡°This is not an act of aggression but a necessary disruption. For true peace can only be forged through sacrifice, not fear.¡±

    As Pramansha stepped down from the podium, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Outside the conference room, overwatch security team voice crackled over the radio. ¡°We¡¯ve got a terrorist attack in the hall! They¡¯ve taken the world leaders hostage! Do something, dammit!¡±

    In an instant, the security team sprang into action, clashing with the intruders as gunfire erupted, echoing through the academy. The battle was intense, a chaotic whirlwind of shouts and gunshots as both sides fought fiercely for the lives of the world leaders.

    Pramansha remained composed, even as chaos reigned outside. ¡°It¡¯s easy to lose sight of the bigger picture in moments like these,¡± he urged the delegates. ¡°We must stay focused on our goal of achieving peace. Let us not allow the outside chaos to distract us from our purpose.¡±

    Meanwhile, the conflict escalated. The clash between the security team and Purple Nation soldiers spilled into the corridors, the situation teetering on the brink of total chaos.

    Alam confronted Pramansha from the podium, frustration evident in his voice. ¡°What do you want? You¡¯ve taken my podium!¡±

    ¡°My intention was to demonstrate unity,¡± Pramansha replied, his gaze unwavering. ¡°A show of peace rather than the endless cycle of war. I want to prove that without fear and hatred, we can build something better¡ªa true union.¡±

    ¡°By pointing your gun at me?¡± Alam shot back, incredulity lacing his words.

    ¡°A powerful visual is more convincing,¡± Pramansha countered, his stare intense. ¡°People can talk about revolution, but seeing it in action is more persuasive. My intent is the same: to establish a new world free from division and fear. Would you like to join me?¡±

    ¡°Even if you kill me, my faction will seek revenge,¡± Alam retorted. ¡°Killing anyone in this room will only turn the world against you!¡±

    Pramansha smiled, a calm demeanor radiating from him even amid the chaos of the conference room. ¡°I have nothing to gain from killing you or anyone else in this room. My goal is a world where we no longer need to engage in brutal politics, where we can work together to establish a new era of peace and prosperity. Your people need not suffer if we can break the cycle of violence. So tell me, will you join me?¡±

    Alam let out a laugh, a mix of disbelief and sarcasm. ¡°Ahahaha... fuck that.¡±

    Pramansha closed the distance, the spec ops soldiers behind him keeping the world leaders at gunpoint. ¡°Do not be so quick to dismiss my offer. I¡¯m giving you a chance to help create a better world. Your people will prosper if we work together.¡± He extended his hand toward Alam, a gesture of peace amid the tension.

    ¡°Join what? A gangbang party?¡± Alam smirked, his bravado masking his unease.

    ¡°The revolution to create a new world,¡± Pramansha replied, his voice steady. ¡°A new era, free of war, fear, and the endless cycles of conflict.¡± An officer pointed a gun at Alam, a reminder that Pramansha¡¯s patience had limits. ¡°Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. I will not hesitate to end you if you persist in your resistance.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. ¡°What¡¯s in it for me? You talk in abstract terms. What¡¯s the deal?¡±

    Pramansha sighed, recognizing the need for clarity. ¡°Very well. We¡¯ll establish a joint council to coordinate our efforts. Our nations will unite as one, with equal representation for each. We¡¯ll have a common currency, free trade, a shared army, and unified policies on key issues like nuclear disarmament and climate change.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°Who¡¯s the leader?¡± Alam asked, skepticism dripping from his tone.

    ¡°There will be no single leader,¡± Pramansha replied, his expression hardening. ¡°We will operate on consensus, ensuring all nations have an equal voice. I will act as a mediator and guide, but decisions will be made collectively. Each nation will have equal power and influence.¡±

    ¡°So, you want to rule every world conference?¡± Alam challenged.

    ¡°I am not interested in ruling anything,¡± Pramansha shot back, his patience wearing thin. ¡°I want to create a world where people live in peace, without fear, war, or division.¡± He gestured toward the leaders held hostage. ¡°Look around you. Do you think these decision-makers are happy? Satisfied with the state of the world?¡±

    ¡°They''re pathetic. But some are good,¡± Alam shrugged, glancing at the nervous leaders.

    Pramansha¡¯s gaze darkened as he surveyed the room. ¡°The world is a mess, and many leaders are responsible for it. What are we doing but spinning in an endless cycle of violence and exploitation?¡± He took a deep breath, stepping back to the podium. ¡°I don¡¯t pretend to have all the answers. But I see a vision of a better world¡ªone where we no longer wage wars and destroy each other, but work together for a brighter future.¡±

    Just then, an explosion rocked the room, sending echoes through the conference hall. The sound of gunfire erupted as Purple Nation spec ops engaged the security team, chaos breaking out around them. Pramansha remained calm, unfazed by the violence. He focused on Alam, his cold gaze unwavering.

    ¡°Is this the peace you want?¡± Alam asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. ¡°Looks kinda bad, huh?¡±

    ¡°It is indeed a sad sight,¡± Pramansha admitted, his expression somber. ¡°But it¡¯s only the beginning. The old world is dead, and we must not remain trapped in our old ways. Today, we stand on the brink of a new era¡ªa world of peace, unity, and understanding. We can either seize this opportunity or let destruction consume us. The choice is ours.¡±

    As he spoke, Pramansha moved toward the door, the spec ops team continuing to fire at the security force. Alam couldn¡¯t help but quip, ¡°If you die soon, it¡¯ll at least be a good speech.¡±

    Pramansha paused, turning back to Alam with a solemn expression. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the future holds for me. But know this: I will die for what I believe in¡ªa world of unity and peace, free from fear and war. I hope you can one day see my vision and join me in building a better future. If death comes for me, I will embrace it without regret because I know my cause is just¡±

    Just then, elite monk forces emerged from the shadows, pushing back the security team. Chaos reigned as world leaders and representatives remained hostages, the situation spiraling out of control.

    ¡°The security team is overwhelmed,¡± Pramansha noted, watching as the elite forces took down guards, securing hostages.

    Alam leaned against the podium, arms crossed. ¡°So what¡¯s your plan? Baby-sitting us in here until the end of the day?¡±

    Pramansha remained silent, his focus on the conflict around them.

    ¡°What¡¯s your endgame?¡± Alam pressed. ¡°Even if we sign your silly demands, our nations won¡¯t follow them.¡±

    Pramansha met Alam¡¯s gaze, his expression unyielding. ¡°My endgame is peace. Unity. A new world where we no longer fight each other, but collaborate to create a brighter future.¡±

    As the security team fell back, retreating toward the academy entrance, the situation grew increasingly dire. The elite monk forces advanced mercilessly, and Alam couldn¡¯t help but comment on the unfolding chaos. ¡°Well, it looks grim for you. Bad strategist, huh?¡±

    Pramansha frowned, glancing at the monitor displaying the frantic scene. The security forces were being pushed back, and he felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. But he stood firm, his resolve unwavering.

    Alam leaned back, skepticism etched across his face. ¡°So, what¡¯s your true goal here? A message? Submission? Or are you just trying to declare war in a cool way?¡± He smirked, raising an eyebrow.

    Pramansha¡¯s gaze flicked to the screen, watching the security forces get pushed back by the elite monk forces. ¡°My goal isn¡¯t about winning,¡± he replied, a calm resolve in his voice. ¡°I don¡¯t care whether I live or die. What I want is peace and unity. I¡¯m tired of seeing people fight and kill each other. I don¡¯t want a future filled with hate and fear. I want the world to be a happier place, where no one has to die for no reason. Is that too much to ask?¡±

    Alam shrugged slightly. ¡°It¡¯s not just you who wants that. We all do. Look at their faces. Despite their fierce tongues, they¡¯re still human.¡±

    Pramansha¡¯s eyes remained fixed on the screen, where the security forces were now pinned down at the academy entrance. The situation was growing dire, the chaos escalating. ¡°Sure, they¡¯re human,¡± he acknowledged, ¡°but do they share my vision of unity and peace? They¡¯re not ready to sacrifice their egos for a better future. They only want to preserve the status quo. Power is their only interest.¡±

    ¡°Funny, you sound a bit like them yourself,¡± Alam shot back, unable to resist the jab.

    Pramansha smiled, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. ¡°I know I¡¯m not innocent. My methods¡­ they are¡­ questionable, I admit. I¡¯ve done things that are far from noble. But my goals¡­ they aren¡¯t about personal power. They¡¯re about something larger. Peace. Unity. I¡¯m willing to be the villain in their story if it means the world can finally come together, achieve true peace.¡±

    Then, without warning, the monitor flickered, displaying a classified record of an early NWC meeting. The image was grainy and distorted, but clearly showed the same conference room, albeit five years in the past. Pramansha turned his gaze directly to a hidden camera, a chillingly direct address to a wider audience. ¡°Then let me show you the incompetence¡­ the hypocrisy of these world leaders behind the public eye.¡± The recording began to play.

    Jagged Alliance

    The room buzzed with pre-conference chatter as a group of leaders gathered in the large ballroom, exchanging awkward greetings.

    ¡°First to arrive is AI? Great, we¡¯re doomed,¡± someone mumbled under their breath, setting the tone for the general unease.

    The Holy See¡¯s hologram flickered to life, projecting a stiff, formal image. ¡°Greetings¡­ humans¡­¡±

    Shakanya and Pramansha entered together.

    ¡°Ew, a robot,¡± Shakanya scoffed, wrinkling her nose.

    The Holy See¡¯s hologram flickered slightly, its smile becoming even more strained. ¡°Greetings, Shakanya, representative of the Pink Nation, and¡­ you too, Pramansha, leader of the Purple Nation.¡±

    Shakanya crossed her arms, unimpressed. ¡°We¡¯re here to meet humans, not binary code.¡±

    Kassandra arrived, her entrance as sharp as her usual remarks. ¡°Greetings, socialist.¡±

    ¡°Time to get started,¡± Shakanya said, cutting through the awkward pleasantries.

    ¡°Ah, Kassandra, Secretary of the famous Conqueror from the Red Nation. Welcome!¡± the Holy See replied, his tone overly polite.

    Banyan entered, radiating an unsettling calm. A conference guard whispered to another, ¡°The cultist.¡± Another replied in a hushed tone, "Did you hear he sacrificed several humans before he got here?"

    Banyan cleared his throat, his voice smooth and even. ¡°We understand the international community may not fully agree with our¡­ practices, but we are committed to our traditions. We hope to find a path forward through respectful dialogue.¡±

    Bayarl Khan, a man dressed in flamboyant yellow robes, strolled in, casually sipping from a glass of what looked suspiciously like champagne. ¡°Did I miss something? Hmhm.¡±

    ¡°Ah, the most¡­ charismatic warlord in Europe!¡± the Holy See greeted him with forced enthusiasm.

    Jozen and Hejaz arrived next, their entrance a mix of casual indifference and barely concealed hostility. ¡°Has the meeting started?¡± Jozen asked, grinning. ¡°Looks like everyone¡¯s¡­ almost here.¡±

    ¡°Beep. The Green Nation is absent today,¡± the Holy See noted, his voice tinged with digital dryness.

    ¡°Oh?¡± Jozen replied, exchanging a knowing glance with Hejaz.

    Hejaz added, a hint of irritation in his voice, ¡°So they think they can just skip after we gave them a seat at the conference table?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Jozen said, patting Hejaz on the shoulder with a chuckle, ¡°at least they didn¡¯t send a small child again like yesterday¡¯s conference, right?¡±

    Just then, a young woman in a simple green dress entered, her expression composed but with a hint of nervousness. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, let¡¯s begin our second conference after¡­ our catastrophic event¡­¡± She introduced herself as Kinara, the new representative of the Emerald League,¡°We¡¯re here as allies, hoping to find common ground and maintain peace, with our¡­ current focus on¡­ war.¡±

    Banyan cleared his throat, addressing the gathering of world leaders. ¡°As we come together in this conference, it¡¯s crucial to highlight the pressing issues we face. We can¡¯t just sit back while conflict and chaos threaten our world. As leaders, it¡¯s our responsibility to seek peaceful solutions and work together toward a future of cooperation and harmony. But let¡¯s not forget¡ªwe also have a duty to protect our nations and the interests of our people.¡±

    He paused, gauging the room. ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to a productive discussion on war and conflict, and how we can collaborate to find the best way forward.¡±

    Jozen chimed in, a smirk on his face. ¡°Sure, but let¡¯s be real¡ªsome of us just love war.¡± He shot a glare at kassandra. ¡°Our last conference? A total circus. It felt like we were just recreating the Berlin Conference of the 1800s, racing to conquer third countries.¡±

    Kassandra interjected, ¡°It¡¯s all for the greater good and world stability.¡±

    Shakanya chuckled, ¡°Right, some say women create drama, but men are just as guilty, doing it on a grander scale.¡± Her laughter hung in the air, breaking the tension for a moment.

    Kinara, the new representative, cleared her throat. ¡°We need to regulate how we conduct our wars. That¡¯s at least something we can agree on.¡±

    Hejaz jumped in, ¡°I¡¯m not buying any specific weapons again. I know you¡¯re just trying to sell your own. My army is well-prepared without your toys.¡±

    ¡°AI drones for non-combatants? Smart missiles? Smart bullets?¡± He waved his hand dismissively. ¡°I see what you¡¯re doing¡ªselling weapons under the guise of reducing casualties.¡±

    Kinara looked taken aback by Hejaz¡¯s bluntness and sat down, momentarily flustered.

    Bayarl chuckled, ¡°Alright, let¡¯s stop trying to sell stuff for a while. What we really need is to avoid putting daggers to each other¡¯s throats.¡±

    Banyan nodded in agreement. ¡°Well said. We¡¯re here to find ways to avoid conflict and seek peaceful solutions to our disagreements. It¡¯s encouraging to see us come together for a common goal. I hope this conference leads to positive outcomes for all of us.¡±

    He continued, ¡°We also need to establish clear and effective methods to prevent and reduce casualties during armed conflict. Non-combatant AI drones and smart munitions could be part of that solution.¡±

    Jozen raised an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s your take on those tools in warfare? But let¡¯s be honest, they come with a ridiculous price tag. We all know the factories are the only ones profiting from this.¡±

    Banyan acknowledged the concern. ¡°You¡¯re right. The development and use of new technology in warfare often prioritize profit over peace. It can be misused or sold to multiple sides, complicating the path to a fair outcome.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why we need to be vigilant,¡± he added. ¡°We must ensure technology is used responsibly and ethically, not just for profit. With clear regulations, we can make sure it serves the greater good.¡±

    Kassandra shook her head. ¡°I refuse. My nation is still recovering; I can¡¯t burden my economy with new toys. We already have the best factories and military equipment. Why bother with specific items to fight a war?¡±

    Hejaz agreed, ¡°Me too. I¡¯m starting to suspect this conference is just a way for a few to profit.¡±

    Jozen shifted the conversation. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get some distance. What¡¯s the deal with the Crescent Alliance? An alliance within an alliance?¡±

    Bayarl explained, ¡°The alliance of the Golden caravan, Sisterhood of south, Shangri-La, and Holy People¡¯s Council is just a defensive pact. We¡¯re not trying to provoke anyone.¡±

    Shakanya nodded, ¡°That¡¯s true.¡±

    Banyan added, ¡°It¡¯s important to remember that alliances and defensive pacts can also lead to conflict. If one nation feels threatened, they may see the alliance as unfairly weighted against them. Strong diplomatic dialogue is critical to maintaining a stable system of alliances.¡±

    He turned to Kinara, who was clenching her fists, clearly anxious. ¡°Transparency is key. We need to discuss our intentions openly. Any attempt to hide information will only erode trust among nations.¡±

    Kassandra scoffed, ¡°The Crescent Alliance is a joke. You should consider disbanding that pact; my nation is not a threat.¡±

    Pramansha interjected, ¡°The Crescent Alliance isn¡¯t just a defensive pact. It¡¯s about economic stability in our region. We must refuse to disband it; it¡¯s for the greater good.¡±

    Jozen shrugged, ¡°Alright, interesting day¡­¡± He mumbled, ¡°War is coming.¡±

 Chapter 89 Last meal

    After the absurd record ended, Alam surveyed the room, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. The new delegation looked like a bunch of deer caught in headlights, jaws dropped and eyes wide. Some exchanged glances, while others stared at the floor, shame written all over their faces.

    ¡°What is this? I¡¯ve seen kindergarten kids debate with more maturity than this

    crap¡± alam think to himself

    then A monk warrior approached Pramansha, urgency in his voice. ¡°Great teacher, their reinforcements are arriving faster than we anticipated. We can either stay until the end or take the tunnel to escape.¡±

    Pramansha considered the options swiftly. If he escaped, his message would never be heard, but staying felt suicidal. He took a deep breath, resolve hardening within him. ¡°No matter what happens, I am not going anywhere. My message must be heard, no matter the cost.¡±

    The monk bowed deeply and left the hall, leaving Alam to shake his head with a smirk. ¡°Oh, you suicidal monk.¡±

    Outside, the security forces finally gained some breathing room as reinforcements arrived. The Emerald League mercenaries and security team were pushing back the elite monk forces, driving them toward the academy¡¯s exit.

    Alam cleared his throat, glancing at Pramansha. ¡°So, are you going to kill us? The world leaders and their representatives?¡±

    Pramansha¡¯s expression turned grim. ¡°They are the cause of all our problems. With them gone, there will be no one left to fight, and the world can finally find peace. If I am to achieve unity, their deaths are a sacrifice I¡¯m willing to make.¡±

    ¡°Fool,¡± Alam scoffed. ¡°Without leaders, the world will plunge into chaos. A civil war would erupt, and civil wars are worse than any foreign invasion!¡±

    Pramansha fixed his cold gaze on Alam. ¡°You¡¯re right. Without leaders, wars will break out, and more chaos will follow. But that chaos is temporary. It will bring us together. It¡¯s an inevitable sacrifice¡ªnecessary for true unity and world peace.¡±

    Alam laughed, incredulous. ¡°Are you mad? Did the Himalayas freeze your brain?¡±

    Pramansha remained silent, his focus unwavering.

    ¡°Alright, anyway¡­¡± Alam glanced at his watch. ¡°You¡¯ve got less than six hours left, maybe more. Why not have one last feast together before you decide to kill everyone?¡±

    ¡°A feast? You want to eat before I kill you all?¡± Pramansha raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

    Alam shrugged. Just then, Jozen, the leader of the Nation of the Sea, chimed in. ¡°I want sushi for my last dinner!¡±

    Pramansha stared at Jozen for a moment before turning back to Alam, his expression unchanged. ¡°Yes, a feast does make sense. We should eat and drink together before we all die.¡± He gestured for Alam and Jozen to join him at the table, even as the sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed from outside.

    ¡°Why aren¡¯t the other representatives joining us?¡± Alam asked as they took their seats.

    Pramansha shrugged, glancing around the room. ¡°They have their own agendas. They fear us three sharing a meal together. They¡¯re afraid of a united world, of peace and unity. And, of course, they¡¯re afraid of dying, which I can¡¯t blame them for.¡±

    ¡°Do we really have to eat in this mood of death?¡± Jozen asked, glancing at the chaos outside.

    Pramansha took a sip of wine, maintaining his grim expression. ¡°Death is a part of life. Nothing is forever; everything must pass. We should be grateful for this last meal together¡ªa toast before we meet our end.¡±

    ¡°Hey, what kind of monk are you, drinking wine?¡± Alam chuckled.

    Pramansha shrugged, finishing his glass. ¡°I may be a monk, but I¡¯m still human. I enjoy the finer things in life, including drinks. If this is my demise, I intend to savor it.¡±

    Jozen added, ¡°This wine is the finest in the world, from the oldest vineyard. It was founded by monks like me who dedicated their lives to understanding wine.¡±

    Pramansha looked at the vintage wine in fascination. ¡°You¡¯re right, this wine is exquisite. Its aroma is delicate, and the taste is rich. It¡¯s like tasting a piece of timeless beauty.¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°It¡¯s called ¡®Aria di Notte,¡¯ meaning ¡®Music of the Night,¡¯¡± Jozen explained. ¡°It¡¯s named after the sound of crickets on a summer¡¯s evening, creating a calming atmosphere. This wine is a masterpiece, a triumph of nature and nurture.¡±

    Pramansha smiled at Jozen. ¡°And the color of this wine is beautiful. The shade of purple reminds me of the twilight sky. To think it¡¯s made from natural elements yet creates such sophistication¡ªit¡¯s the essence of perfection, a reflection of the beauty and harmony of the natural world.¡±

    As the gunfire and explosions continued outside, pramansha then notice the unweavering of the world delegation. he then gesture to his soldier.

    soldiers escorted Zion into the room. The monk warriors remained focused, guarding the hostages. then Pramansha, undisturbed, continued to enjoy the atmosphere, sipping his wine while Alam and Jozen nibbled on freshly prepared sushi.

    ¡°I see you¡¯re Zion¡¯s dog,¡± Alam remarked, a hint of accusation in his tone. ¡°I should¡¯ve known it from the start. Too late now, heh.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I am a Zion dog,¡± Pramansha replied calmly, his gaze steady. ¡°Not in the way the purple elite might think. I am loyal to the truth, to the right things that Zion fights for.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll die soon. I¡¯d say hell, but do you even believe in it?¡± Alam smirked.

    Pramansha put down his glass, a small smile playing on his lips. ¡°I believe in all religions and myths¡ªthey reflect the diversity of humanity. A place like hell doesn¡¯t scare me. I am at peace because I know I¡¯m doing the right thing. My sacrifice will bring a better future, and that thought alone is enough for me.¡±

    ¡°Do you believe in Gott?¡± Alam asked, probing further.

    Pramansha paused, contemplating. ¡°I believe in the possibility of a god like Gott. All myths and religions seek to reveal the truth of the universe, and one can never rule out a god¡¯s existence.¡±

    Alam leaned back, a wry smile on his face. ¡°Well, this plate exists because someone made it. This earth exists because someone made it. This whole drama exists because someone made it too.¡±

    Pramansha nodded, contemplating Alam''s words. ¡°The universe is indeed a masterpiece, created by a higher existence. But that doesn¡¯t necessarily mean it¡¯s a god like Gott. There are many possibilities. While we can¡¯t know the exact nature of this higher existence, we can have belief and faith, and that, in itself, is enough.¡±

    ¡°Oh, but my reference to Gott is as the source of all,¡± Alam shot back, leaning in with interest.

    Pramansha paused, considering. ¡°Yes, this Gott you speak of may indeed be the origin of the universe. It¡¯s a possibility we cannot rule out.¡±

    ¡°Exactly! It makes more sense to believe in Gott than in the Big Bang theory,¡± Alam argued. ¡°The idea that the universe popped into existence from nothing is hard to wrap your head around.¡±

    Pramansha agreed, nodding. ¡°The Big Bang theory is a tough concept. It seems illogical to think the universe could emerge from nothing. But the Gott theory raises its own questions. If Gott created the universe, what created Gott? If he was created, then who created him? It¡¯s a fascinating loop of creation that challenges our understanding.¡±

    ¡°Gott is the creator of concepts, reality, and even time!¡± Alam exclaimed. ¡°He¡¯s beyond your questions¡ªa game master, really. Like characters in a game or a novel, are they aware of the developer or writer?¡±

    Pramansha considered this, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. ¡°Yes, Gott may indeed be beyond our understanding. He is the mastermind who created our reality, just as an author creates a story. We are limited in our comprehension, but in Gott¡¯s eyes, we¡¯re like characters in a game, and he wrote our narrative.¡±

    Alam¡¯s tone turned serious. ¡°What is death to you? After all, we might be dead in a few hours because of your actions. Do you expect it to be like a blank black void?¡±

    Pramansha reflected on the question, his brow furrowing. ¡°I¡¯ve never given much thought to what happens after death. I believe we simply cease to exist, like falling asleep without dreams¡ªno consciousness, no awareness, just a blank state of nothingness.¡±

    ¡°Now I understand your recklessness,¡± Alam replied, shaking his head. ¡°You and your fanatic followers think there are no consequences for your actions.¡±

    Pramansha nodded, acknowledging Alam''s point. ¡°Yes, my recklessness stems from believing I don¡¯t have to fear death. I see the afterlife as complete numbness. That¡¯s why I¡¯m willing to risk everything to achieve my dream. If it¡¯s my time to die, I will accept it.¡±

    Outside the academy, a masked palace guard stepped forward. ¡°I¡¯ll take the lead on the hostage rescue. We¡¯ll attack through the hidden passage beneath the academy while the rest keep them busy.¡± He gave a signal to start the operation.

    Hazel rallied the squad. ¡°Alright, everyone, follow him! Let¡¯s go!¡± They moved toward the hidden passage, which led directly to the academy¡¯s basement¡ªthe stronghold of the elite monk forces.

    As they advanced, the palace guard breached the room first, using a grenade to create a diversion. They stormed in, catching the monk warriors off guard. Despite their skill, the monk warriors were quickly overwhelmed by the palace guards¡¯ superior numbers and firepower.

    ¡°Room clear! Move to the next area!¡± one guard shouted, adrenaline coursing through him. ¡°We¡¯ll split the team. One group moves forward, while a small team secures the power generator. We need to disable it before we rescue the hostages.¡±

    Patrick joined the team securing the generator, while Nara teamed up with the palace guard to secure the hostages. They moved swiftly through the shadows, the sound of conflict echoing in the background.

    In the darkness, the rescue team engaged the elite monk forces. Shots rang out, and the palace guards, outfitted with superior armor, pushed forward, clearing a path for their comrades.

    ¡°We need to take care of those rooftop shooters!¡± a palace guard called out. ¡°You two, go upstairs and handle them.¡± Nara raised her hand, eager to join. ¡°You can go with them,¡± the guard said. ¡°Let¡¯s deal with those snipers quickly!¡±

    As they reached the rooftop, Nara dodged a monk¡¯s attack, rolling back and delivering a kick that sent him stumbling. With a swift motion, she drew a chakram from her hip and beheaded him in one clean slice. She quickly picked up his two chakrams, ready for whatever came next.

    The academy taught her that true strength lies in standing up for what is right, even when the odds are against you

    As they approached the conference room, tension crackled in the air. The palace guard raised a hand, halting Alam and his team. ¡°You guys stay here. This requires precision. We don¡¯t want to hit the hostages.¡± He was determined to take charge of the rescue operation, and the others had to stand down.

    Nara instinctively reached for the guard leader¡¯s shoulder, wanting to voice her concerns, but Hazel placed a hand over hers, shaking his head slowly. Nara nodded, understanding that the palace guard had to handle this.

    The palace guard moved into position, ready to breach the conference room door. Meanwhile, Alam glanced around, feeling the weight of the chaos outside.

    ¡°But there¡¯s a plot hole,¡± he said, breaking the silence. ¡°If you believe in numbness after death, why do you still care about this world?¡±

    Pramansha paused, considering Alam¡¯s question. ¡°That¡¯s a valid point. If I believe the afterlife is nothingness, why do I care about my actions? I care because what I do affects future generations. Even if I can¡¯t witness my impact, I have faith that my actions will help create a better world for those who come after me.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Alam replied, taking a sip of coffee. ¡°Too bad you¡¯re a bit of a dramatic old man.¡±

    Pramansha chuckled lightly. ¡°I may be dramatic, but I¡¯m human. I care about this world, even if it means sacrificing myself to achieve it. Your coffee seems to be quite relaxing; you¡¯ve remained so calm during this conversation.¡±

    Alam shrugged. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m ready to die anytime. I¡¯m a field soldier; embracing death is part of everyday life.¡±

    ¡°I understand,¡± Pramansha replied, sighing. ¡°You have the spirit of a fighter. Facing death daily is no easy feat. I¡¯m a monk warrior, but I can¡¯t match your brutality and tenacity. I respect your determination.¡±

 Chapter 90 Knife on table

    Suddenly, a loud explosion echoed from the hallway, smoke billowing into the conference room. A piercing bullet struck one of the monk warriors, fired from an Emerald palace guard wearing advanced goggles.

    ¡°Great teacher, this is our time!¡± the monk shouted, rallying his comrades.

    Pramansha remained unfazed, calmly addressing his students. ¡°Yes, my students. Now is our time. We must not flinch or recoil in our duty, even if the bullets pierce our flesh. We must stand firm and proud, even as we lay down our lives for the truth.¡±

    As the monk warriors aimed their weapons at the world leaders, Pramansha continued, undeterred. ¡°Do it, my students. Fire at the representatives who have manipulated this world for their own selfish desires. End this age of bloodshed and war.¡±

    In a split second, Alam grabbed Pramansha, pointing a dinner knife at his eye. ¡°Order your fanatics to stop, or you die right here!¡±

    Pramansha¡¯s expression remained calm, even with the knife so close. ¡°The monks¡¯ orders have already been given. They won¡¯t stop until they complete their mission.¡±

    Suddenly, just split second before monks pull the triggers, a blinding light erupted from the holographic display of holy see in the center of the room, momentarily disorienting everyone. The monk who had started shooting missed his targets in the chaos, hitting only a few representatives. The scene turned into a frenzy, gunfire erupting as friendly fire ensued among the security team.

    As the light faded, several armed monks lay dead or wounded on the floor. The palace guard quickly secured the conference room, while Pramansha, Alam, and Jozen remained at the center, the tension palpable.

    Jozen, unfazed by the bloodshed, casually sipped wine, observing the chaos with a detached demeanor. Alam, still holding the knife to Pramansha, glanced around, feeling the weight of the situation.

    ¡°Well, this is awkward,¡± Alam finally said. ¡°I think it¡¯s done now¡­¡± He released Pramansha and sat back at the table.

    But in an unexpected move, Jozen swiftly stabbed Pramansha in the head with a spear-like object from his mechanical arm.

    ¡°You¡­ you killed him!¡± Alam stammered, shock washing over him.

    Jozen placed the weapon on the table and set down his glass of wine, rising from his seat with a calm, emotionless expression. He walked toward Alam, who raised his hands in confusion.

    ¡°What do you want? Kiss me?¡± Alam blurted out, half-joking.

    In a surprising twist, Jozen grabbed Alam¡¯s face and kissed him passionately, catching him completely off guard. Alam felt his breath stolen away, Jozen''s lips warm against his own.

    ¡°Ahhh!¡± Alam gasped, shoving Jozen away. ¡°What the fuck, man?!¡±

    Jozen took the punch without flinching, leaning in closer again, determined to kiss Alam once more. The warmth of Jozen¡¯s lips was disorienting, and Alam felt a mix of confusion and frustration.

    ¡°Help! Someone!¡± Alam yelled, panic rising in his voice. ¡°This is worse than death!¡±

    The security team stood by in shock, unsure of how to react to the bizarre scene unfolding before them. Leaders and representatives exchanged bewildered glances, the tension in the room thickening.

    After an awkward silence, the palace guard finally cleared his throat. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s get back to procedure. We¡¯re taking the hostages back, and we need medical assistance. Now.¡± He ordered his team to ensure the hostages'' safety and call for help, trying to regain control of the situation.

    As the palace guard began escorting the hostages out of the room, Jozen remained nearby, his expression still devoid of emotion. Alam rubbed his head, feeling the weight of the moment.

    ¡°You¡­ I¡­ the true horde will never forget that¡­ sexual harassment. But why do I care more about that? You just killed the mad monk. Should I be mad at you? Or¡­¡± Alam trailed off, lost in thought.

    Jozen continued to stare at Alam, his gaze unwavering. Alam walked in circles, his mind swirling with contradictions, while Jozen observed him with a detached intensity, the chaos of the world around them fading into the background.

    alam mind then start wrap the fuck just happen. then he remember something, he point at jozen secret weapon on his armsYou could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Oh wait. You¡¯re hiding weapons? That¡¯s a direct violation of the conference rules!¡± He gestured towards the world leaders, but they were too busy being escorted to safety, trying to escape the chaos.

    ¡°There''s only one truth spoken by that mad monk,¡± he muttered. ¡°This place is filled with mad people.¡±

    Jozen stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Alam''s shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re a smart man, you know. Very smart. You realize the world is full of fools.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Are you a fool too?¡± Alam shot back, eyebrow raised.

    ¡°I¡¯m one of the biggest fools in this room,¡± Jozen replied with a grin. ¡°I¡¯m the fool who killed the wise man.¡±

    ¡°Great! You¡¯ve just declared war on the Shangri-La Confederation or fucking Purple Nation. Congratulations!¡±

    ¡°Do you really think your pathetic confederation can stand against the might of the Blue Nation? We have the largest navy in the world, with submarines armed with advanced torpedoes and missiles. their primitive warships can¡¯t compete with us.¡± Jozen¡¯s tone was smug, confidence radiating from him.

    ¡°I know about fools,¡± Alam retorted. ¡°But how will you defeat them? They¡¯re living in the mountains. Unless you have a flying submarine.¡± He chuckled, stepping outside the podium as the guard escorted him.

    Jozen laughed at the ¡°flying submarine¡± comment, following Alam to the exit. ¡°We have something better than submarines¡ªaircraft carriers. Our planes can easily take out your mountain strongholds. Plus, we have access to advanced technology you can¡¯t even dream of. Your primitive alliance will be crushed under our heel.¡±

    ¡°Good. If war progresses, let me join the party,¡± Alam said, a glint of determination in his eyes. ¡°But right now, I need to deal with the bigger bastard¡ªZion.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. You need to take down Zion. Your participation will be crucial, even if you¡¯re a small nation. I believe in you, and I believe you can crush Zion,¡± Jozen affirmed.

    As they moved to the medic for checks, Alam casually asked, ¡°Will you join the carnage? Your nation has been sleeping too long in the Pacific.¡±

    ¡°Indeed I will,¡± Jozen replied, a fierce glint in his eye. ¡°I¡¯ll crush the entire world with my mighty navy. My nation has remained silent for too long, but I need a strategy before attacking. I can¡¯t move blindly, or I¡¯ll give my enemies the upper hand. I¡¯ve been watching the war closely, biding my time. Now that it¡¯s begun, I¡¯ll act decisively and bring justice to this world.¡±

    ¡°Ahh, you¡¯re the type who keeps the good cards hidden until the last moment,¡± Alam remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice.

    Jozen chuckled. ¡°Exactly. I¡¯ll keep my strongest cards hidden until my opponents least expect it. I¡¯m a patient man, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. The time of my nation¡¯s awakening is coming, and it will be unforgettable.¡±

    alam nose Sniff. ¡°Just don¡¯t attack me, and I¡¯ll spare your peace-loving floating city.¡±

    Jozen patted Alam on the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I have no intention of attacking your nation, as long as you stay out of our way. I¡¯m simply trying to bring peace to this world through war. Your nation can remain neutral, and we won¡¯t bother you. But if you stand against my righteous cause, I won¡¯t hesitate to bring your nation to its knees.¡±

    ¡°Ahahaha! Good enough,¡± Alam said, a grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°So we have a deal then?¡± Jozen asked, a playful gleam in his eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll stay out of the war, and I¡¯ll leave your nation in peace. The future of the world is mine to control, and you¡¯ve chosen the smart course by remaining neutral.¡±

    Hours later, the world leaders and their representatives were finally escorted to safety. After the security team mopped up the remaining enemy forces scattered throughout the academy, they began preparing to transfer the hostages back home. It had been a long, difficult day, but the mission was successfully completed. They had saved the hostages and dealt with the Purple Nation troops.

    As the team regrouped, a familiar figure approached Nara. A palace guard tapped her shoulder, then lifted his helmet to reveal his face.  a white hair and a red eyes ¡°It¡¯s Nigel!¡± Nara exclaimed, recognition flooding back. He was an old friend from her days at the academy, now a professional officer with the palace guard.

    ¡°Nara! It¡¯s been too long,¡± Nigel said, a grin spreading across his face as they embraced, the chaos of the day momentarily forgotten.

    Nara spotted Nigel from across the square, and a wave of relief washed over her like a refreshing spring breeze. Without thinking, she bolted toward him, her arms outstretched like a child running to greet a long-lost friend. The moment their bodies collided in a warm embrace, the world around them faded into a blur of colors and sounds. Nigel, visibly moved, wrapped his arms around her, returning her hug with the kind of fervor that spoke volumes of their shared history.

    As they pulled apart, Nigel searched her eyes, his brows knitting together with concern. ¡°Good to see you again,¡± he exclaimed, his voice laced with genuine warmth. ¡°But I see you¡¯ve joined the Zion faction. Why on earth would you do that? Where have you been?¡±

    Nara¡¯s heart thumped like a drum in her chest as she gathered her thoughts. ¡°I joined Zion,¡± she started, her voice steadying, ¡°because I want to save lives and protect my friends. I want to make a better world.¡± She paused, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. ¡°But¡­ I¡¯m not entirely sure what Zion¡¯s real purpose is. All I know is they promised change.¡±

    Nigel¡¯s expression shifted to one of disbelief, his mouth hanging open slightly as he processed her words. ¡°You¡¯re serious? You actually believe in their promises?¡± His mind raced with questions, and he couldn¡¯t help but ask, ¡°How did you even get involved with them?¡±

    Nara took a deep breath, her thoughts swirling like leaves caught in an autumn wind. ¡°I was recruited by Kassandra,¡± she explained, her voice trembling with mixed emotions. ¡°she became my friend and convinced me that joining Zion was the best chance we had for a better future. But now¡­¡± Her voice trailed off, uncertainty creeping in like a shadow.

    Nigel leaned closer, his eyes narrowing with concern. ¡°Are you sure about this decision? You¡¯ve become a gladiator in their arena, but what does that mean for you? Are you really on board with their goals?¡±

    A flicker of doubt crossed Nara¡¯s face. ¡°I thought I was,¡± she murmured, her words tumbling out in a rush. ¡°But I¡¯m not so sure anymore. I feel like I¡¯ve changed, like I¡¯m not really serving Zion¡¯s goals anymore. I¡¯m just¡­ a mercenary now.¡± Confusion tightened her throat, and she stuttered over her words, struggling to articulate the turmoil inside her.

    Nigel¡¯s concern deepened. ¡°What about the Red Nation¡¯s goals? What methods are they using? What¡¯s their long-term plan?¡± He paused, allowing her the space to think, his patience a soothing balm against her rising anxiety.

    Just then, Hazel, chimed in, ¡°Can I say something?¡± Her voice sliced through the tension, drawing Nigel¡¯s attention. He nodded, eager to hear what she had to say.

    ¡°Nara has been through a lot,¡± Hazel said, her tone serious yet understanding. ¡°She was genuinely trying to escape Zion. I found her wandering the steppe, lost and scared. If I hadn¡¯t found her, she might not be here today.¡± The weight of her words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

    Nigel¡¯s face finally softened, understanding dawning slowly. ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°Right. Okay. I¡­ I get it. I¡¯m¡­ sorry. I¡¯m here for you. We need to¡­ talk about this. Later.¡±

    As the conversation unfolded, the scene shifted, revealing a chaotic broadcast from the Academy of Unity. The news anchor¡¯s voice crackled with urgency, detailing a hostage situation that had spiraled into chaos, complete with a beheading and an unexpected kiss between two leaders. Artak, sitting in the background, raised an eyebrow at the absurdity of it all, amused yet troubled by the growing tensions.

    Meanwhile, the shangri-la Confederacy (purple) had pulled its support from the Crescent Alliance, and Nkosi, listening to Artak¡¯s report, felt her heart drop. ¡°This is a drastic shift,¡± she remarked, worry etched into her features. ¡°What will this mean for us?¡±

    As days passed, Alam returned to the Crescent Alliance base, greeted by shocked but relieved faces. ¡°What a nice day we have,¡± he quipped, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

    ¡°Welcome back, General Alam,¡± Nkosi said, her curiosity piqued. ¡°What did you observe during your travels?¡±

    Alam¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°I see uncertainty. But it¡¯s good¡ªour finest hour,¡± he replied, a glimmer of hope shining through the grim circumstances.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Nkosi agreed, her resolve hardening. ¡°This is a time of opportunity. We must rise to the challenge together.¡±

 Chapter 91 Chaotic Embrace

    Back at Zion''s base in Novosibirsk, the transfer pod touched down. As Zion dismounted, Wraith approached, a smug grin on his face. ¡°What do you think of my plan?¡± he asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. ¡°Pity about the world leaders, but plenty of high-ranking officials are gone. And now look! Shangri-La and the Sea Nation are having a lovers¡¯ quarrel. Very dramatic. Very convenient.¡±.¡±

    Zion blinked, still processing the recent events¡ªJozen¡¯s assassination of Pramansha and the resulting conflict between Shangri-La and the rest of the Crescent Alliance. ¡°You planned all of this?¡±

    ¡°¡°Well, ¡®planned¡¯ is a strong word. More like¡­ whispered suggestions into the wind, watching them blossom into storms. With a sledgehammer. And a few well-placed explosions. Now, let''s capitalize on this beautiful chaos."Wraith replied, unwavering. ¡°Now we strike while they¡¯re divided.¡±

    Trickster chimed in, his eyes gleaming. ¡°The die is cast.¡±

    The implications were clear. With Shangri-La¡¯s departure, the Crescent Alliance¡¯s cohesion had shattered. The timing was perfect.

    At the head of the table, Zion considered the situation. Trickster¡¯s words echoed in his mind: Strike now. The opportunity was undeniable, but the scale of what they were about to undertake sent a chill down his spine.

    Juggernaut¡¯s voice cut through his thoughts. ¡°Sir, our grip on the gladiator factions is absolute. The revolution has brought us even more support. Minor factions are flocking to our banner. We¡¯re estimating troop numbers between 12.5 and 16 million in North America, ready for deployment.¡±

    Zion raised an eyebrow, a mix of astonishment and apprehension tightening his gut. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ significant.¡± The sheer size of their force was staggering. But will it be enough? The prospect of the coming war was daunting.

    Kassandra leaned in, her brow furrowed. ¡°We have to consider the True Horde,¡± she warned. ¡°Alam commands roughly 3.5 million troops. The Crescent Alliance, even without Shangri-La, still has about 6.5 million. It¡¯s a precarious balance.¡±

    The room fell silent. Zion considered the numbers. The Red Nation and its allies held a temporary advantage, but the war was far from over. Any misstep could tip the scales.

    After a moment, Weaver spoke, his voice steady. ¡°We need to strike while the iron is hot. Our supplies won¡¯t last if we don¡¯t move soon. The Emerald League is the weakest link. We need their resources.¡±

    Zion nodded. ¡°Surprise is key. A swift, aggressive attack on their supply lines and key infrastructure. That¡¯s how we break them.¡±

    His advisors exchanged nods of agreement.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Zion said, his voice firm. ¡°Prepare for the attack. Speed is essential.¡±

    As his advisors dispersed, Wraith lingered, a knowing look on his face. ¡°Zion,i had a spicy suggestion.¡±

    Zion raised an eyebrow. ¡°Go on.¡±

    Wraith leaned forward. ¡°We should hit the Emerald League. They¡¯re the softest target, bloated with wealth and blind to the rot within. They think their neutrality makes them untouchable¡ªlike a merchant believing his gold protects him from the plague. They sell their souls to every bidder, believing profit is the highest virtue.¡±

    He then gestured towards a monitor displaying captured True Horde soldiers, mostly green recruits huddled in trenches along the Xinjiang border. ¡°Alam¡¯s tied up there. These boys aren¡¯t exactly Rommel. They¡¯re sitting ducks if we tried a full invasion.¡±

    Wraith leaned back in his chair. ¡°The beauty of it is, Shangri-La¡¯s in chaos after their leader¡¯s¡­ unfortunate demise. They¡¯re ripe for manipulation. Greed is their guiding principle. We offer them a chance to loot the Emerald League, and they¡¯ll bite. It¡¯s in their nature. We pull our forces back from Xinjiang, redirect them south, and let Shangri-La soften the Emerald League from the north. Then we move in for the kill.¡±

    Zion considered this. ¡°I agree. But Shangri-La without a leader¡­ they¡¯re a wild card.¡±

    Kassandra interjected, her brow furrowed. ¡°Exactly. Unpredictable. Relying on them is a risk.¡±

    ¡°Oh, please, woman, just shut up¡± Wraith scoffed, rolling his eyes. ¡°I practically lived with those monks for years. I know what makes them tick. They''re like cats. You give them a laser pointer ¨C in this case, the Emerald League ¨C and they''ll chase it without fail.¡± Kassandra snorted, a mix of amusement and annoyance on her face.

    Zion¡¯s surprise shifted to curiosity. ¡°You¡¯re that confident, Wraith? Elaborate.¡±

    Wraith leaned back, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. ¡°They¡¯re always looking for a good fight, especially one they can win easily. Without their leader, they¡¯re like a pack of stray dogs without a master. Just needs a little¡­ encouragement. We point them at the Emerald League, and they¡¯ll do the rest. It¡¯s like outsourcing our dirty work, only with more chanting.¡±

    The audacity of the plan was clear: manipulating Shangri-La to attack the Emerald League could be a game-changer. It was a gamble, but a potentially rewarding one.

    Juggernaut boomed, ¡°Let me lead the charge! My sentinels will tear through their lines!¡±

    Zion hesitated. Juggernaut¡¯s enthusiasm was infectious, but sending his elite troops unsupported was risky.

    ¡°The Emerald League relies heavily on mercenaries,¡± Kassandra added, thoughtfully. ¡°Most of them are¡­ flexible. We could buy their loyalty. It¡¯d be expensive, but cheaper than a full-scale assault.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    Zion sat in silence, contemplating the strategy. Mercenaries were notoriously fickle, loyal only to gold and silver. If they could sway their loyalties, it could tip the scales.

    Trickster broke the silence. ¡°Well, if we give the mercenaries a heavy blow, their morale will drop. They¡¯re not known for their loyalty, after all.¡±

    Zion nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. ¡°A decisive blow to their morale could work. Once we break their spirit, they¡¯ll be easy to defeat. We can use their forces to bolster our own and face the Shangri-La without too much burden.¡±

    Juggernaut¡¯s eyes gleamed with anticipation. ¡°So will my sentinels see action then?¡±

    Zion smiled, realizing this was a perfect opportunity for the sentinels to prove themselves. ¡°Yes, your sentinels will be part of this operation. With their superior armor and weaponry, they can help break the enemy lines and wreak havoc among the mercenaries.¡±

    Kassandra studied the map, shaking her head. Our current deployment looks like a toddler with a red crayon on map. We¡¯re stretched from North America, across Manchuria, Mongolia, Siberia¡­ and then we jut straight down into Afghanistan. We haven¡¯t even secured China or India, and now we¡¯re adding Persia to the mix? It¡¯s a geographic disaster.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Kassandra interjected, her brows knitting together. ¡°Are we planning to go after Shangri-La after we hit the Emerald League? We¡¯re still in a stalemate with the True Horde!¡±

    Zion sighed, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what our next move will be after the Emerald League. We¡¯ll need to assess the battlefield and decide based on what unfolds. If Shangri-La is still unengaged, it might be a good opportunity to strike. If they¡¯re already in battle, we may have to deal with them first.¡±

    Standing at the gate, Zion surveyed the impressive sight of his heavy-armored infantry and exo-suited soldiers disembarking from their base in Novosibirsk.

    They were like bulked-up stormtroopers, but with better aim and fewer laser pointers. The leg implants and powered armor let them wield heavy weapons ¨C gatling guns, light cannons ¨C like toys.

    Pride swelled within him; his army was finally ready to engage the rival forces.

    As his generals raised their hands in salute, the red general cleared his throat. ¡°We¡¯ll see why Juggernaut is the Khan of the Blood Khaganate!¡±

    Zion nodded, a smile spreading across his face. This was their moment to shine, a trial by fire that would prove their strength. He knew Juggernaut and his warriors would make their ancestors proud in the battles to come.

    At the Academy, the repairs were nearly finished, but the atmosphere was far from celebratory. Students from Shangri-La and the Free World, mirroring their home nations¡¯ politics, had already been recalled. Now, as news of the Red Nation¡¯s mobilization reached the Academy, even more students were being pulled back.

    but the destruction had faded, leaving behind a scene of restoration of academy building, as workers bustled about, transforming the battered institution back to its former glory.

    Yu parked her tank near the pet house, the turret almost brushing the roof. ¡°Well, at least someone¡¯s happy around here,¡± she muttered, glancing at the rabbits., her spirits lifted by the sight of the animals. After feeding the rabbits, she felt a wave of contentment wash over her. The rabbits, with their soft coats and twitching noses, seemed to appreciate her company, and she smiled at the thought of them munching happily on their greens. Just then, Hazel approached, her face lighting up with a grin.

    ¡°Looks like you have some new friends,¡± Hazel teased, gesturing to the rabbits.

    ¡°Do you know what type of rabbit this is?¡± Yu asked, finding joy in sharing her knowledge.

    ¡°It¡¯s a cotton-tail rabbit,¡± she explained. ¡°They¡¯re soft, have large ears, and are popular pets. Very intelligent, too! They can learn tricks easily.¡±

    Hazel raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on her lips. ¡°Really? But why have I never seen a rabbit in the circus? Hehe.¡±

    Yu chuckled, her laughter ringing like a bell. ¡°True, cotton-tails are popular, but they¡¯re not trained for performances. They¡¯re just too gentle and friendly for that kind of life.¡±

    Hazel nodded, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. ¡°Hmm¡­ to think they have a whole range of animals here. They even have a kangaroo!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Yu agreed, her own excitement bubbling over. ¡°It¡¯s impressive how the Academy manages to have such a variety. A kangaroo is quite the rare find!¡±

    Hazel¡¯s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. ¡°Can we ride the kangaroo? I¡¯ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be a pouch.¡±

    Yu paused, picturing the exhilarating sensation of bouncing through fields atop a kangaroo. ¡°Absolutely! That would be such a fun adventure! Riding a kangaroo would feel like a roller-coaster ride¡ªjust imagine the wind in your hair!¡±

    Hazel leaned closer to the kangaroo''s cage, a playful grin on her face. ¡°I wonder what kangaroo tastes like¡­ do they like dog meat or sheep?¡±

    Yu laughed at the outrageous thought. ¡°I think kangaroos mostly eat herbs and vegetables. But some do munch on bugs and small animals, so I guess it''s possible they might take a liking to meat¡ªthough dog meat and sheep meat is pushing it!¡±

    The light-hearted banter continued until the scene shifted to the distant tundra, where Bora led a group of elite monk warriors against the formidable Red Army. The air was crisp, alive with the scent of pine and the tension of an impending confrontation. Bora stood poised, her striking brown eyes scanning the horizon, a picture of calm amidst the brewing storm.

    In the midst of this tense standoff, a familiar voice crackled through her earpiece, breaking the silence. ¡°Hey, so¡­ will you be heading back to your nation after this little ¡®Shangri-Lauwu land¡¯ adventure?¡± Alam¡¯s tone was light-hearted, but the undercurrent of seriousness was unmistakable.

    Bora sighed, her focus unwavering from the tactical map spread before her. ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± she replied, her voice steady yet tinged with uncertainty. ¡°I can¡¯t give you a simple answer. There¡¯s a lot to consider.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Alam mused, sensing her hesitation. ¡°You¡¯re the only force keeping the Red Army¡¯s supply lines disrupted. If you withdraw, they¡¯ll gain the upper hand.¡±

    Bora furrowed her brow, weighing his words. ¡°I know the risks. I¡¯m committed to keeping those supply lines disrupted. Even after the Crescent Alliance¡¯s operation is over, I¡¯ll stay here. We can¡¯t let them regroup.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Alam replied, his tone firm. ¡°After my truce with the Red Army, I¡¯ll come to get you. Together, we¡¯ll split them in half.¡±

    A hint of relief washed over Bora. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to keep the pressure on until then,¡± she affirmed, determination lacing her voice.

    ¡°Very well¡­ thanks. By the way, you¡¯re beautiful, you know?¡± Alam¡¯s playful compliment caught her off guard.

    Bora¡¯s cheeks flushed a light pink, and she quickly glanced away, a shy smile creeping onto her face. ¡°Oh, thank you! But let¡¯s focus on the mission and not get distracted,¡± she stammered, trying to regain her composure.

    ¡°Alright, got it. Gott bless,¡± Alam replied, the warmth of his voice lingering in her ears.

    As she ended the call, Bora couldn¡¯t help but smile, her heart fluttering from the exchange. With a deep breath, she returned her focus to the tactical map, feeling the weight of her responsibilities mixed with the thrill of camaraderie and connection amidst the looming conflict in the heart of the tundra.

 Chapter 92 Scramble for War

    ¡°A few days later, the Emerald League¡¯s mercenary leader stood before the council, his expression grave. ¡®The Free World armies are advancing to the south,¡¯ he announced, the weight of the potential invasion palpable. ¡®We must recruit more mercenaries and militias to counter this threat.¡¯

    The council fell silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in. council member, broke the tension. ¡®We cannot afford to underestimate this invasion. Hiring additional forces is not just necessary; it¡¯s imperative for our survival.¡¯

    Another councilor, skeptical, replied, ¡®But at what cost? Our resources are already stretched thin. Is it worth risking our economy for a fight that may not come?¡¯

    ¡®If we do nothing, we risk losing everything,¡¯ council member countered firmly. ¡®We must act decisively to protect our way of life.¡¯

    the council member who in past supporting red nation turn silent. kaveh and his son nigel is just observe and wait their turn.

    In the final moments of the discussion, the merc leader proposed something bold: appointing seasoned mercenaries as generals for a newly formed Emerald League army. His gaze shifted to Hazel, a skilled and experienced warrior who had proven herself time and again.

    ¡°he¡¯s an excellent choice,¡± he argued. ¡°Her knowledge of warfare and strategy will be invaluable.¡±

    The council members exchanged glances, voices split between those advocating for surrender and those calling for a fight. After a tense vote, the decision to resist was made¡ªnarrowly. Hazel and her ally Nigel would join the defense army, a move that filled the air with tension. A major defeat would spell disaster for the council¡¯s integrity and their country.

    Later that day, Hazel found Nigel at the palace. ¡°So, you¡¯re a child of one of the council members, huh?¡± she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

    Nigel blinked, surprised. ¡°Yeah, but I¡¯ve never mentioned it before.¡±

    ¡°Why not? Don¡¯t you want special treatment?¡± Hazel prodded, a grin spreading across her face.

    ¡°Just a bit,¡± he admitted with a laugh. ¡°But I prefer to keep a low profile. I don¡¯t want anyone treating me differently just because of my family.¡±

    Hazel chuckled, eyeing his striking white hair and red eyes. ¡°Well, it¡¯s hard to forget someone who looks like you!¡±

    Nigel shrugged, a playful smirk on his lips. ¡°Yeah, I guess so. But I want people to treat me normally.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of normal, your childhood friend Nara is in my unit,¡± Hazel said, her tone light.

    ¡°Oh, Nara! She¡¯s like a sister to me,¡± Nigel said, warmth flooding his expression. ¡°I¡¯m really glad she¡¯s in the same unit.¡±

    Hazel raised an eyebrow. ¡°Sister? Nothing more?¡±

    Nigel laughed softly, feeling a blush creep to his cheeks. The truth was, he did feel something deeper for Nara, but admitting it was another matter entirely. ¡°Well, we¡¯re really close.¡±

    ¡°Take care of yourself,¡± Hazel said, giving his shoulder a friendly tap before turning to leave. Nigel watched her go, a mix of embarrassment and determination swirling within him. He needed to prepare for the upcoming mission.

    After their conversation, Hazel and her team set off for the Emerald League''s black market in the port city by the Caspian Sea, searching for military vehicles essential for their next mission. The vehicle would provide mobility for combat against the Free World army.

    ¡°I know this port well from my days with the Flying Dragons of Shanghai,¡± Hazel said confidently. ¡°Tetsuya, have you found anything good yet?¡±

    ¡°Not yet,¡± Tetsuya replied, scanning the area. ¡°Most vehicles are outdated or unsuitable for our needs. We still have some time to look, though.¡±

    ¡°Nothing can compare to our Strider or Buffalo tanks,¡± Hazel mused. ¡°They¡¯re basically the best in the world.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Tetsuya agreed. ¡°Both are top-tier, so it¡¯s normal we¡¯re not finding anything that matches them. They have superior armor and mobility, but they require a lot of maintenance.¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking about technicals,¡± Hazel suggested. ¡°It¡¯s impossible to find anything as armored as our tanks.¡±

    ¡°Technicals could work,¡± Tetsuya said, considering. ¡°They¡¯re fast and agile, easy to maintain, but they lack the armor of a Strider or Buffalo. It depends on the mission. If we need speed and mobility, they¡¯re a great choice.¡±

    ¡°Right, and we have to be mindful of our budget,¡± Hazel said with a smirk. ¡°A thousand technicals are better than twelve rusty tanks, right?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Tetsuya chuckled. ¡°We¡¯ll need to find a good deal and consider maintenance costs too.¡±

    ¡°Good. You¡¯re good with machines. You¡¯ll be the one to do the shopping for us, Captain Tetsuya.¡±

    Tetsuya smiled, feeling the weight of the task settle on his shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure we find the right vehicles.¡±

    As their jeeps rumbled deeper into the port city, the opulence was so jarring it almost caused whiplash. It was like someone had taken Las Vegas, Dubai, and a botanical garden, thrown them into a blender, and then poured the resulting smoothie onto the Caspian Sea.

    Palm trees lined wide boulevards, and even the sewer grates¡ªmade of some kind of transparent material¡ªrevealed purified rainwater flowing beneath, feeding into public sprinklers. The buildings themselves were architectural marvels, each topped with intricate, vent-like structures that seemed to regulate the internal temperature.

    ¡°Lucky bastards,¡± one merc muttered, his rough Khaganate accent thick. ¡°We built our posts with mud and dung, and they get this? War¡¯s been good to them.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re smart about it,¡± another replied from the back of the jeep. ¡°Diplomacy, lip service¡­ it goes a long way in this dying world.¡±

    This was the Emerald League¡¯s doing. Promoters of ecology, trusted by the RE Filter program after the nuclear fallout from the Emp Collapse, they¡¯d leveraged donations and access from NWC members and smaller nations. Ecology was good business, especially when you could use it as a front for more¡­ lucrative ventures.

    The shift was palpable. The wide boulevards gave way to narrow, grimy alleys choked with vendors. Lost tech, drugs, even slaves were openly traded. The black market thrummed with a dangerous energy. The team¡¯s hands tightened on their weapons.

    Hazel found herself alone on a deserted side street. A man in a black jacket and fedora materialized from the shadows, drawing a pistol and firing a volley of shots into the air. ¡°I¡¯m mafia! I¡¯m sigma!¡± he yelled, striking a pose. trying to rob hazel, Clearly an amateur.

    hazel unimpressed. her hand is holding nara who like going to beat up the hat man.

    ¡°hold up. mafioso..im hazel.. from flying dragon¡±

    The man blinked, his bravado instantly evaporating. ¡°w-what?,, how?  i thought you all dead..¡±

    hazel then sigh ¡°yeah.. but im not.. just show me the lair¡±

    the man contemplate for awhile  then stright up himself ¡°alright.. follow me¡±

    Hazel led the group to a casino-like building, where the guards recognized her and let them pass without question. Inside, the ambiance transformed into one of opulence, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. They ascended to the top floor, where luxury reigned and wealth was flaunted.

    There, Hazel approached a chubby old man in a white suit. With a dismissive wave, he sent the women surrounding him away, their expressions a mix of indignation and disappointment.

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re after,¡± Hazel said, cutting to the chase. ¡°I need a loan for the war effort.¡±

    The old man smiled, his laughter echoing in the lavish room. ¡°Ah, I see. I¡¯m willing to lend you the money, but there are conditions.¡±

    ¡°I figured as much,¡± Hazel replied, crossing her arms. ¡°After the war, you expect a full return with interest.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± he said smoothly. ¡°But there¡¯s more. You must agree to follow my orders during the war, effectively becoming my pawn.¡±

    Hazel sighed, recognizing the gravity of the situation. ¡°If we lose this war, there won¡¯t be an Emerald League left.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± he nodded, his expression serious. ¡°But if you win, the Emerald League will survive, and you¡¯ll regain power. A win for you is a win for me.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re not just giving a loan but making a donation as well,¡± Hazel quipped.

    ¡°Precisely,¡± he replied, eyes glinting. ¡°I¡¯ll provide a loan with fair interest, plus a donation to support your war efforts. It¡¯s a sizeable amount to help you secure better weapons and technology. What do you say?¡±

    Hazel spat in her hand, a gesture of solidarity and determination. ¡°I¡¯m ready for the brotherhood¡­ once more.¡±

    The old man mirrored her action, sealing the deal with a firm handshake. The understanding between them was clear: he would provide the necessary funds to support her cause, and in return, she would follow his lead in the unfolding conflict. The stakes were high, a thrill of anticipation coursing through both of them as they prepared for the challenges ahead.

    Nara, standing a short distance away, watched with a furrowed brow as Hazel engaged in a seemingly serious conversation with the chubby old man. Curiosity battled with caution, leaving her rooted in place. The two were completely absorbed in their discussion, oblivious to her presence.

    Finally, the deal was struck. Hazel, her attention now focused on the acquisition of a cannon for their technicals, turned to the task at hand. Patrick, ever the stoic scribe, meticulously recorded every transaction, his pen a blur as he kept track of the rapidly growing sum.

    As they passed through the bustling slave market, a wave of bitter memories washed over Nara. She recalled her time in the arena, the forced encounters with fellow slaves, each one a desperate struggle for survival. The sight of their beaten bodies, the despair etched on their faces, tugged at her heart. How could anyone inflict such cruelty upon another human being?

    Hazel, with a determined look on her face, decided to purchase some of the slaves, intending to use them as workers and engineers. Among her purchases were dolls¡ªlifelike humanoid figures that could replace people for various tasks. Nara felt a chill run down her spine at the sight of these dolls; they were too eerily similar to humans, and the thought of them being reprogrammed for labor felt unsettling. It was an unusual and disquieting scene, one that left her feeling conflicted.

    ¡°Patrick, is that¡­?¡± he murmured as he noticed some familiar faces among the slaves. They were former comrades from the Red Army, men he had fought alongside in the harsh winter war. Now, they were reduced to this unfortunate state¡ªa bitter reminder that fortune had not smiled upon everyone. The memories of their shared struggles felt bittersweet, a fleeting happiness overshadowed by their current plight.

    Once the shopping was complete, the group returned to the parking lot. There, they spotted Yu cradling a small puppy in her arms. Hazel approached, a curious smile on her face. ¡°Who¡¯s the owner of that little guy, Yu?¡±

    With a gentle smile, Yu stroked the puppy¡¯s soft fur. ¡°He¡¯s an orphan. No one has claimed him, so I¡¯m taking care of him for now. Isn¡¯t he just the cutest?¡±

    A small spark of light in this encroaching darkness

    Hazel chuckled. ¡°Heh¡­¡±

    Tetsuya chimed in, ¡°Well, he could become our mascot! Have you named him yet?¡±

    The team shared a laugh at Tetsuya¡¯s suggestion. Yu shook her head, her eyes sparkling with affection for the puppy. ¡°I haven¡¯t thought of a name yet. Any suggestions?¡±

    Hazel raised an eyebrow, glancing at the others. ¡°Hmmm¡­ Any ideas?¡±

    The group fell silent, each member deep in thought. They didn¡¯t want to offend Yu by suggesting a silly name for her adorable new companion. The little puppy followed Yu closely, his big eyes full of innocence and curiosity.

    ¡°Come on, people! We¡¯re wasting time,¡± Hazel finally said, breaking the quiet. ¡°Let¡¯s think about it on the road.¡±

    Nods of agreement followed, and the team decided to table the naming discussion for now. With a shared sense of camaraderie, they headed off, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, the little puppy trailing happily behind them.

 Chapter 93 Birth of serpent

    Later, atop the repurposed freighter Hai Long (Sea Dragon boat), its hull repainted in vibrant crimson and gold, the wedding party bobbed gently amidst the skeletal remains of drowned Beijing. The half-submerged Forbidden City, its once-majestic vermilion walls now stained with algae and barnacles, formed a haunting backdrop to the joyous occasion.

    It was a day of celebration¡ªBaihu and Alam were officially tying the knot!

    The nikah was underway, performed by the Imam, his voice amplified by a salvaged comms unit, with their soldier and general witnesses present. Alam presented Baihu with a ceremonial katana and a hefty 10 kg of gold as her mahr. The Imam delivered the khutbah, invoking Allah, the Most Merciful.

    Then came Baihu''s tradition: a shower of rice! As grains flew into the air, Alam looked bewildered.

    ¡°What is this?¡± he asked, scratching his head.

    ¡°Spread your arms, dear! Catch the rice! It¡¯s a symbol of luck!¡± Baihu exclaimed, gleefully trying to catch as many grains as she could.

    ¡°Oh!¡± Alam replied, grabbing a broom and sweeping the deck, collecting the rice like a pro.

    ¡°Hahaha! You rascal!¡± Baihu laughed at his antics.

    After the feast, as the sun began to set, the deck was quiet, with only a few guests lingering. The newlyweds leaned against the rail, soaking in the moment.

    Baihu sighed, ¡°We did it, huh?¡±

    Alam took a sip of his drink, nodding. ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    Baihu leaned her head on Alam¡¯s chest, a content smile on her face.

    ¡°Hmm. Do all women like being submissive?¡± Alam asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

    Baihu burst into laughter. ¡°No, you silly! Some women are strong and independent, while others like a man to take charge. What do you prefer?¡±

    ¡°I like women who are true to themselves,¡± Alam replied, a grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°Good answer!¡± Baihu said, her eyes sparkling. ¡°Now, let¡¯s enjoy our luck and love!¡±

    Luck. Love. Words that seemed to echo hollowly in the strategic briefings flashing across the screens in Zion¡¯s command center. The maps displayed not hearts and flowers, but troop deployments, potential casualties, and the cold, hard logic of war.

    On July 28, 2405, the Red Nation''s vanguard advanced toward the Emerald League border, tension thick in the air like the humidity before a storm. Meanwhile, the Shangri-La army was amassing in Balochistan, though their intentions remained shrouded in mystery. Would they support the Emerald League against the Red Nation, or would they join the fray to further complicate the conflict?

    On the Emerald League side, chaos reigned. The newly formed royal army was anything but united, with each general pushing their own strategies, creating a cacophony of confusion.

    Zion, observing the unfolding situation, remarked, ¡°The emerald league is on the move, and their vanguard is nearing our border. With the Shangri-La army gathering as well, the upcoming battle will be unpredictable. Our divisions and disorganization are a boon for them.¡± He paused, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. ¡°It¡¯s time to give Juggernaut the green light. They¡¯ve trained for years, and now they must prove their worth as the Khan of the Blood Khaganate.¡±

    Kassandra leaned forward, her voice a mix of eagerness and concern. ¡°Do we finally give Juggernaut the go-ahead?¡±

    Zion nodded decisively. ¡°Yes, let them proceed with the mission. It¡¯s time for action.¡±

    then the new reformed red army is massing their force on afghanistan, their main bulk is stop punching the crescent alliance and true horde in china, red nation territory in eurasia is resemble letter ¡°n¡±, from frozen tip of bering strait to mountainous region of afghan.

    Then next day in on one of emerald league barrack, Major Hazel was on the comms with Nigel, her voice crackling through the static. ¡°Hey! Remember me?¡±

    Nigel turned, a smile breaking across his face. ¡°Of course! no one will ever forget your  face. How are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Hazel replied, though her tone turned serious. ¡°But the division within our army is concerning. We need to fight together.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely. Our alliance is crucial,¡± Nigel agreed, determination shining in his eyes. ¡°Together, we can overcome these challenges and protect the people we care about.¡±

    Hazel extended her hand, and Nigel grasped it firmly. Their handshake solidified their resolve as allies, ready to face whatever lay ahead.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    As Hazel inspected their base, Patrick diligently recorded transactions, while Nara executed her duties nearby. Yu, however, was preoccupied, cradling a puppy in her arms, completely absorbed in the tiny creature¡¯s cuteness.

    ¡°Hey, Tetsuya!¡± Hazel called out, her tone shifting to business. ¡°What¡¯s the status on our new technical pickups?¡±

    Tetsuya, the base commander, responded with a report. ¡°The technicals are fully repaired and ready for action, complete with new weapon attachments. We¡¯re just waiting for the order to deploy.¡±

    The tension in the air was palpable, with everyone acutely aware that the enemy would likely make the first move.

    The following day, Nigel sent Hazel a blueprint for a cloaking device. ¡°Check this out,¡± he said, displaying the intricate design on his computer screen.

    Hazel gathered the team around, excitement bubbling in the air. ¡°What do you all think?¡±

    The group studied the blueprint, some eyes sparkling with curiosity. ¡°This could help us hide from enemy detection!¡± one member exclaimed.

    Tetsuya, thinking hard, chimed in, ¡°I¡¯ve seen something like this in the Free World. It¡¯s an old technology, but it could still work for stealth operations.¡±

    Patrick added, ¡°I encountered something similar in Watery Grave City. It was a suit that allowed a person to become invisible, but it consumed a lot of energy.¡±

    Nara, lost in thought, struggled to recall a memory that danced just out of reach.

    Hazel nodded, considering the implications. ¡°Since it requires so much energy, we should use it on our Buffalo tanks instead of individuals. It¡¯s more effective that way.¡±

    The team agreed, and Hazel concluded, ¡°Alright, let¡¯s prioritize putting cloaking devices on our five Buffalo tanks.¡±

    Suddenly, Hazel shifted gears. ¡°By the way, we used to be called the Bastard Division. Let¡¯s rename ourselves the Serpent Division!¡±

    A mixture of groans and laughter erupted. ¡°Serpent Division? Really?¡± Tetsuya asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Couldn¡¯t we have gone with something less¡­ reptilian?¡± ¡°Hey,¡±

    Hazel shrugged. ¡°It could be worse. We could be the Snail Division.¡±

    , but then the conversation turned to their new mascot. ¡°So, what about our puppy?¡± Hazel asked, eyeing Yu, who still cradled the little dog.

    Yu looked shy, having not yet named the pup. The team fell silent, searching for a suitable name. An awkward pause stretched on as everyone glanced around, unsure.

    Hazel finally broke the silence. ¡°Since he¡¯s male, how about Gazz?¡±

    The suggestion was met with nods of approval. ¡°Gazz it is!¡± Hazel declared.

    Yu smiled, her agreement evident. ¡°I like it!¡±

    ¡°Alright, dogs¡ªer, serpents!¡± Hazel rallied, raising her arm. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work!¡±

    With renewed motivation, the team dispersed to their tasks, each member focused on preparing for the upcoming battle.

    Later, the day of judgment arrived. The Red Nation invaded the Emerald League without a declaration of war, deploying their latest war machines¡ªthe Sentinels. Commanded by the hulking Juggernaut, these heavily armored warriors favored brutal assaults and were armed with devastating anti-tank weaponry. Their morale was high, and they were poised to dominate the battlefield.

    The attack was so sudden that the Emerald League''s border guards were like speed bumps to a giant bulldozer. Within hours, they reached Mashhad, a quarter of the Emerald League already conquered.

    Back at their base, Hazel scrutinized video reports on the Sentinels, sketching their armor designs in a desperate attempt to identify weak points. The Sentinels, impervious to bullets and rockets, had proven nearly invulnerable. These were White Nation tech, after all, top-of-the-line and sold at exorbitant prices, but never with the manufacturing schematics. The White Nation held a tight grip on production, ensuring every nation remained dependent on their factories.

    Nara leaned in, her eyes narrowing at the sketches. ¡°I fought someone in an exo-suit once. It was almost like that.¡±

    ¡°Really? How did you defeat them?¡± Hazel asked, intrigued.

    Nara recounted her battle. ¡°The exo-suit was powerful, but I played it smart. I kept my distance, dodging their attacks while looking for a weak spot.¡± She pointed to the neck area of the Sentinel sketch, emphasizing its vulnerability. ¡°That¡¯s where I focused my strikes.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Hazel said, her mind racing. ¡°But why were you fighting them in the first place?¡±

    ¡°Oh, well¡­ Khaganate arena. They actually use those suits to create a spectacle. Unlike the Free World, which often requires blood games, Khagan society lets their fighters into the suits, and they¡­ well, they bang each other. Metaphorically, of course. It¡¯s about testing the suit¡¯s capabilities and the pilot¡¯s skill, not actual¡­ you know.¡± Nara explained, a slight blush creeping up her neck.

    Hazel¡¯s curiosity continued to grow. ¡°Crazy. So, what about EMPs? Are they immune?¡±

    Nara shook her head. ¡°Actually, no. The guy I fought was hit with an EMP, and he couldn¡¯t move at all. That¡¯s our chance to take them down.¡±

    Hazel frowned. ¡°Too bad our EMP munitions are so limited. The White Nation, in their infinite wisdom and bottomless greed, only sells them in small quantities and at astronomical prices. They know it¡¯s the only reliable counter to their tech, so they control the supply to maximize their profits.¡± The scarcity wasn''t just a coincidence; it was a deliberate economic strategy.

    Determined, but knowing it was likely futile, Hazel contacted the command center to request EMP munitions. The response was as expected¡ªthe already meager stock was completely depleted after the recent border skirmishes. Frustration bubbled to the surface. ¡°Damn it! We need an alternate plan for victory against those exo-suits.¡±

    The Red Nation''s vanguard, a well-oiled machine of ruthless precision, pressed their assault against the Emerald League''s defenses. Superior numbers, advanced weaponry, and hardened veterans tilted the scales heavily in their favor. They pushed their forces to the limit, poised to shatter the Emerald League''s lines and seize vital supplies.

    Meanwhile, in the frenetic atmosphere of their cluttered workshop, the Serpent team raced against time to finalize their cloaking technology. This innovation held the potential to shift the tide of battle, but Hazel paced anxiously, the ticking clock a constant reminder of the looming deadline.

    Then, a chilling message crackled through the comms: the council had ordered an immediate counter-offensive against the Red Nation. "We''re not ready!" Hazel exclaimed, her heart sinking. "The Buffalo tanks aren''t even operational!"

    The order, however, wasn''t born of strategic brilliance, but rather desperation and political maneuvering. News had reached the council of Kaveh''s past dealings with the Red Nation ¨C whispers of backroom deals and exchanged favors before the invasion. Now, with the Red Army tearing through their defenses, the other council members saw an opportunity: a desperate, high-risk gamble to prove their resolve and, more importantly, to force Kaveh to publicly demonstrate his loyalty by supporting a swift, decisive action. It was a move born of paranoia and political expediency, not sound military strategy.

    Forced into action, Hazel rallied her troops. "All right, Serpent Division! We''re attacking with the forty Stride tanks. Move out to Kavir Oasis!" The Oasis was not merely a strategic point; it was a cultural and trade hub of immense importance. They could not afford to lose it.

    As they marched towards Kavir Oasis, a palpable tension gripped the air. Hazel barked orders, emphasizing the need to protect their resources. "Use the caves to conceal our supplies," she instructed. "The enemy possesses heavy infantry and can strike from any direction. We cannot afford to lose what we''ve built!"

    The soldiers nodded, determination etched on their faces as they scrambled to secure the supplies in the cave. Every moment counted; they knew their survival depended on it.

    Night fell, cloaking the camp in darkness, but peace was nowhere to be found. The sounds of distant clashes reverberated like a drumbeat, keeping everyone on edge. Soldiers stood alert, eyes darting at every rustle in the wind, their hearts racing with anticipation. Sleep was a luxury they could not afford; the tension was suffocating as they braced for an imminent attack.

    In the shadows, a sense of camaraderie grew among the weary warriors. They exchanged nervous jokes to lighten the atmosphere, even as the weight of the impending battle bore down on them. ¡°At least we know our supplies are safe¡­ unless the enemy decides to throw a party in the cave!¡± one soldier quipped, earning a few chuckles despite the gravity of the situation.

 Chapter 94 Legendary battle

    Their target: the lifeblood of the oasis, the vitrified water aquifer beneath Meymad Village. After the Emp Collapse, the ancient aquifers had been superheated, transforming the water into a dense, mineral-rich liquid ¨C vitrified water. Meymad, a hydro-settlement built around this precious resource, was now the Juggernaut''s prize. The siege had begun, a battle not just for land, but for the very essence of survival.

    The soldiers fortified their camp, effectively cutting off any access to this precious resource. The war was no longer just a front-line affair; the back lines were under siege too.

    Hazel, understanding the limitations of brute force against a foe so entrenched, chose a different path. Like a desert fox harrying a lumbering beast, she employed hit-and-run tactics, using the dunes and canyons as her allies. They harassed supply lines and ambushed outposts, inflicting chaos, but the Juggernaut''s grip on the oasis remained as stubborn as a mule.

    ¡°Fire! Fire! Kill! Kill!¡± Hazel bellowed, as the tanks unleashed a relentless barrage of piercing armor and high-explosive shells. The air filled with the cacophony of explosions, a symphony of chaos that had the soldiers cheering for their determined commander.

    For ten grueling days, the desert echoed with the sounds of war, the sand turning crimson with the blood of the fallen. Frustrated by the Serpent''s elusive tactics, the Juggernaut ordered a brutal push toward Meymand Village, advancing like a monstrous iron tide, confident in their overwhelming numbers. The oasis was on the brink of collapse.

    As the afternoon sun beat down, a sandstorm loomed on the horizon, a harbinger of chaos. Seizing the moment, Hazel led a daring night raid, using precise targeting data from previous skirmishes. The Serpent division unleashed a devastating barrage, targeting command centers, fuel depots, and their mobile repair bays,  throwing the Sentinels into disarray. Panic spread like wildfire as their formation crumbled.

    The battlefield was a chaotic and dangerous scene. The ground was torn up by explosions, made it difficult for the Stride tanks to maneuver. Some of these vehicles got stuck, and enemy soldiers started to fight back. A sudden and violent sandstorm reduced visibility to almost zero

    In the heart of the chaos, Hazel faced the Juggernaut. Using EMP munitions, he lured the enemy commander into a dead-end and launched a thunderous strike, crippling the Juggernaut and forcing the Sentinels to retreat.

    The next morning, with no enemy soldiers in sight, Hazel emerged from his tank, shouting ¡°Victory!¡± The survivors cheered, but Nara raised a logical question: ¡°Why don¡¯t we chase them?¡±

    Coughing, Hazel replied, ¡°We¡¯re out of ammo, and the terrain is a nightmare for our tanks.¡± she counted the remaining Stride tanks¡ªonly 18 left from the 40 deployed. The losses were staggering,

    ¡°Instead of chasing the enemy, let¡¯s bury the dead,¡± Hazel decided. For two days, they collected bodies scattered across the battlefield, while grave robbers took advantage of the chaos. The battle was over, but the war was far from finished.

    As they stayed at the oasis, news arrived of the Red Army Sentinels regrouping in the Lut Desert Canyon, heading toward Shahr-e-Yazdgerd. The Serpent division faced a serious threat, but hope arrived with Captain Tetsuya and his cloaked Buffalo tanks, ready to bolster their forces.

    Hazel asked Tetsuya about the cloaked tanks. ¡°They¡¯re fast and have cloaking capabilities,¡± Tetsuya replied, a grin on his face.

    With the Sentinels struggling to maneuver in the canyon, Hazel commanded the ambush. The nimble Buffalo tanks emerged from their hiding spots, surprising the enemy and creating chaos in their ranks.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    The battle raged on, the ruins of Shahr-e-Yazdgerd echoing with the clash of metal and the roar of engines. As the Juggernaut entered the fray, wielding a salvaged Gatling gun, the battlefield descended into complete chaos. The Serpent division now faced a new, powerful enemy, and the stakes had never been higher.

    In the afternoon, a brutal stalemate unfolded as the Juggernaut''s raw power decimated the Serpent division''s technical vehicles, a massive loss that left them reeling. But the Juggernaut''s lumbering movements made him a prime target for ambushes. Seizing the moment, Hazel orchestrated a clever counterattack, using the ruins for cover and flanking routes. Both sides suffered heavy losses, the battlefield littered with wreckage and the fallen.

    As the sun dipped below the horizon, a sandstorm rolled in, swirling chaos around the combatants. Both sides took cover, the furious winds and abrasive sand forcing a temporary ceasefire.

    When the storm finally subsided, the battlefield was a grim tableau of destruction. Over 200 Sentinels and 60 technicals lay broken, while the Juggernaut emerged, scarred but undeterred. He and Hazel exchanged a nod of mutual respect, acknowledging the heavy toll of their conflict.

    The next morning, both sides remained entrenched, exhausted and demoralized. The Juggernaut bellowed a challenge but hesitated, his confidence shaken. He turned and led his remaining Sentinels away, leaving the battlefield to the ghosts of the fallen.

    Atop the canyon, a royal officer proclaimed, ¡°We stand among the ghosts of giants, survivors of the storm of steel. The sand remembers every scream, every sacrifice.¡±

    Hazel, unimpressed, muttered, ¡°We¡¯re not losing everything,¡± before retreating to his tank, where he found Yu playing with their puppy, Gazz.

    Later, as they returned to Kavir Oasis, they passed a graveyard of fallen soldiers, both friend and foe. Looters were already at work, but Hazel and Yu were too drained to intervene. They pressed on, weary but resolute.

    Suddenly, intel from a drone warned of a Sentinel group trying to intercept them. Hazel ordered his fastest Strider tanks to secure the road ahead. Upon reaching a sandy crossroad, they prepared an ambush, but Hazel had a moment of oversight¡ªhe forgot to reload their Strider tanks.

    In a desperate move, Hazel slammed the engine into overdrive, unleashing a dust storm that enveloped the battlefield. The Sentinels, caught off guard and disoriented, stumbled through the chaos. With limited ammo, Hazel launched a series of targeted attacks, exploiting their confusion.

    As the ammo ran low, Hazel ordered a retreat. Just then, four Buffalo tanks arrived, charging into the fray. Switching to a Buffalo himself, Hazel led the charge against the Sentinels.

    Thesand storm retreated, leaving behind a wasteland of twisted metal and shattered dreams. The Juggernaut and the remaining Buffalo tanks stood as silent sentinels amidst the carnage, two titans locked in a weary stalemate.. The nimble Buffalo danced around the Juggernaut''s thunderous blows, scoring hits on his armor.

    The sentinels, being caught off guard and disoriented by the blinding storm, they become confused and disoriented and started to stumble through the sandstorm. The radar becomes useless as it is unable to function properly. With the limited remaining ammo, Hazel then start using pre-calculated coordinates in order to launch a series of targeted attack against the sentinels at the cross road. This was an effective tactics, due to the fact that the sentinels are disorientated and unable to react accordingly.

    Now that their ammo has been depleted, Hazel then orders to fall back and regroup with the rest. As they were turning around. Four buffalo tanks had arrived and attacking the sentinels. Hazel then quickly change his tank, as he switched to the buffalo tank. Then strider tank then fall back. The buffalo tanks then continued their attack against sentinels, while the strider tank retreat to regroup.

    The sandstorm slowly start disappearing, revealing the aftermath of the battle. The battlefield is now completely transformed, as the wreckage of both friend and enemy now littered the sand, and the smell of burning oil hung heavy in the air, as the dust slowly settle down to the ground. At the heart of the carnage, Buffalo tanks and the Juggernaut now facing each other, the two titan are now facing each other in the dying light of the setting sun.

    Buffalo, which is nimble and swift, now has been dancing around the Juggernaut''s thunderous blows of his anti tank weapon, the buffalo is now scarring the Iron Khan''s armor, which is becoming more and more evident the more the battle goes on. The Juggernaut wields his Gatling gun, now the he is not only firing the debris of the battle, but also is becoming threat on the buffalo''s trail too.

    One of the buffalo tank is now disabled after the damage on their trail, which caused them being unable to use their cloak ability again since it was pretty much well spend. Hazel then bark his command through the radio to the other buffalo tank crew to aim at the Juggernaut''s his neck area. However, the Buffalo crew was met with difficulty in order to penetrate the Juggernaut, as their armor were different than the ordinary sentinels and more agile.

    It''s 19:15, the sky was already darkened. Both combatants have reached their limits, as the buffalo''s engine is sputtering, coughing out plumes of black smoke. The Juggernaut''s armor, being pitted and scorched, is barely containing the rage within. At this point, Hazel had to use last tricks up his sleeve in order to win this battle, he then rammed his buffalo tank into the Juggernaut, knocking it off balance. It was a risky maneuver, but it looks like its working right now.

    At 19:30, both of the titans are now standing exhausted and bruised, but they are still unbroken from this brutal confrontation. A weary respect now hangs in the air, as the juggernaut raises his gauntlet in a grudging salute, which Hazel mirror the gesture as he aim the turret at sky. The battle now ends in a hard-won understanding forged in the fires of combat, instead of a clear victory or defeat. It was indeed a costly and brutal battle, and both sides have suffered heavy loses.

 Chapter 95 Battle of gambit

    In the late days of August 2405, the Red Nation launched a blitzkrieg-style offensive, swiftly capturing Khurasan and Golestan in the northeastern reaches of the Emerald League. However, their advance ground to a halt in the Kerman region, where the Royal Motorized Brigade stood as an immovable barrier. Meanwhile, the enigmatic forces of Shangri-laa amassed on the borders of Balochistan, their intentions shrouded in mystery.

    Hazel, standing amidst the remnants of his division, gazed at the battered tanks and vehicles that had survived the brutal clash with the Juggernaut. her body suit is make her like in oven on because the enviroments.

    "We need a repair station here," she muttered. The day dragged on as they awaited a response from the council, the soldiers finding solace in the oasis that offered a brief respite

    Some engaged in light-hearted activities, playing volleyball or swimming in the cool waters. Yu, ever the playful one, was seen frolicking with her dog, while Patrick wandered the peaks of the valley, seeking solitude and perhaps a moment of clarity.

    Tetsuya and Nara, on the other hand, found comfort in the familiar embrace of their tanks, their laughter echoing through the air. Others huddled in the shade, their faces grim. contemplating the existential dread of being stranded in a desert with limited Wi-Fi.

    The oasis was a welcome respite, but it couldn''t mask the reality of their situation. They were stranded, waiting for orders, unsure of what the future held.

    Hazel, with a smirk, turned to Yu. "What do you want, orange hair?" she teased, her tone light despite the weight of recent events.

    Yu giggled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I don''t have to tell you. You know I''m just here to tease ya," she replied, her playful nature a balm to Hazel''s weary soul.

    As Yu began to massage Hazel''s back, her fingers deftly working through the tension, she paused, her curiosity piqued by a Dragoon tattoo etched into her skin. "What''s the meaning of this?" she asked, her voice softened by genuine interest.

    Hazel sighed, memories of her past crashing over her like a wave. ¡°Not everyone can have this tattoo. Only the ruthless and most loyal members of the Flying Dragon get to wear it. We follow our triad ancestors to earn it.¡±

    ¡°But,¡± she added, a hint of regret in her voice, ¡°that¡¯s my past. I want to get rid of this tattoo someday.¡±

    Yu, ever the playful spirit, flashed a flirty grin. ¡°Aw, why would you want to ditch such a beautiful tattoo? I bet the ladies love it!¡±

    Hazel chuckled, her mood lifting with the banter. ¡°Oh, especially the bad ones.¡±

    Yu giggled softly, her teasing a comforting presence in Hazel''s life. But then, as Yu¡¯s hand moved lower, Hazel instinctively tried to stop her.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Flustered by a woman¡¯s touch?¡± Yu smirked, mischief dancing in her eyes.

    Hazel felt her cheeks heat up. ¡°No! Just¡­ um¡­¡±

    Yu laughed, clearly enjoying the moment. ¡°I¡¯ve always wondered why you wear that tight bodysuit. Doesn¡¯t it get itchy?¡±

    Hazel¡¯s eyes widened in shock. ¡°What?! How do you know I¡¯m a woman?¡±

    Yu raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. ¡°What do you mean? Everyone here knows you¡¯re a woman. You sneak out at night just to take a pee, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Hazel¡¯s face turned crimson. ¡°I¡­ I!¡±

    Yu burst into laughter, the sound bright and infectious. ¡°Relax! It¡¯s not a big deal. We all have our secrets. Yours just happens to be a little more¡­ colorful.¡±

    Hazel couldn¡¯t help but laugh along, the tension easing. ¡°Yeah, well, I guess I¡¯m just trying to blend in. It¡¯s not easy being a woman in this world.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re doing just fine,¡± Yu reassured her, her tone light. ¡°Besides, that tattoo just adds to your charm. It tells a story, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, a story I¡¯d rather forget,¡± Hazel replied, shaking her head with a smile. ¡°But I appreciate the support.¡±

    ¡°Anytime! Just remember, you¡¯re not alone in this. We¡¯ve all got our battles to fight,¡± Yu said, her eyes sparkling with camaraderie.

    With that, the two shared a moment of understanding, the weight of their pasts momentarily lifted by the warmth of friendship.

    As Yu walked away, Hazel overheard two mercenaries talking in hushed tones.

    "Heard the Red Nation''s pushing hard in the north," one said. "They''re not messing around."

    "Yeah, and Shangri-laa''s moving in from the east," the other replied. "We''re caught in the middle of a damn grinder."

    Hazel sighed. They weren''t wrong. Hazel''s gaze turned toward the horizon, lost in thought. The weight of their situation pressed heavily on her shoulders.

    ¡°Artist must choose to fight or flee. I made my mind. I will fight because I had no choice,¡± she declared, her voice steady, echoing the determination that surged within her.

    Later, at the Zion base in Novosibirsk, Kassandra briefed the team on the current situation. "They''ve halted in the desert area, but our northern front is making good progress. Their general still uses orthodox methods to fight our sentinels."

    She paused, her eyes scanning the room. "We can focus on the north, take Mazandaran, and pillage their port city on the Caspian. Then, we can take the ancient city of Tehran."

    Trickster nodded in agreement. "Destroying their palace would shatter their morale. But their central unit and Shangri-laa in the east are concerning."

    Zion weighed the options, his mind a whirlwind of strategic possibilities. "By focusing on the north, we can secure Mazandaran''s strategic port city and strengthen our logistics. Pillaging Tehran would deal a significant blow to the Emerald League''s morale and disrupt their central unit and Shangri-laa forces. But it''s risky. These moves will leave our northern front defenseless and may allow Shangri-laa to advance unchecked."

    As Zion contemplated the delicate balance of their situation, a Wardog broke the silence. "Sir, I have an idea."

    The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the confident soldier. "We need to draw the Shangri-laa forces away from the main battle. We can do this by luring them into a trap. We present a tempting target they can''t resist attacking, diverting their attention and allowing us to concentrate on the north."

    Zion''s interest was piqued. "Go on."

    The Wardog continued, his voice steady and assured. "We create a weakness that Shangri-laa will exploit, then spring a surprise attack to rout their forces. I believe I''ve found the perfect target¡ªa major logistics supply hub that feeds into the Emerald League''s central region. It''s crucial for their supply lines, and Shangri-laa won''t be able to resist attacking it."

    Zion''s eyes lit up. "A key logistical supply hub... It''s perfect. If we can draw them into a trap and destroy that hub, we''ll cripple their operations and reduce the threat they pose."

    The room buzzed with excitement as the plan took shape. The challenge now was to execute it flawlessly, ensuring that Shangri-laa took the bait and fell into their trap.

    The Wardog¡¯s grin widened. He could practically hear the clinking of gold and the screams of panicked quartermasters. The logistics hub wasn''t just a target; it was a pi?ata filled with loot and strategic advantage, just waiting to be whacked.

    It would be a massive blow to the Emerald League''s economy and a huge gain for the Red Nation. Shangri-laa''s notorious greed made them the perfect pawns in this strategic game.

    Zion''s mind raced with possibilities. If they could lure Shangri-laa into attacking the hub, it would not only cripple the Emerald League but also give the Red Nation a decisive edge in the war. The weakness was clear: greed. Exploit it, and victory was within reach.

    Kassandra''s voice cut through Zion''s thoughts. "So, we must take care of their motorized brigade quickly. You only have three cards left on the west before our reinforcements in North America arrive¡ªmy light tanks, your elite force, or gladiator volunteers."

    Zion weighed his options. The elite force, though untested, promised superior combat capabilities. The gladiator volunteers were readily available but less experienced. Time was of the essence, and the stakes were high. He had to make a choice that would tip the scales in their favor.

    "We''ll deploy the elite force," Zion decided, his voice firm. "Their offensive power is our best shot at a decisive breakthrough before enemy reinforcements arrive."

    The elite force moved into position, ready to confront the motorized brigade. This first deployment would be a test of their mettle and a turning point in the campaign.

    In Meymand, the central motorized royal army brigade was forced into retreat by the Red Nation''s elite force. The Red Nation completed their encirclement over the Kerman region, poised to strike one of the wealthiest provinces¡ªDasht-e Lut.

    Kinara, aware of the impending attack, fortified Dasht-e Lut''s defenses. She bolstered air defenses and key checkpoints, preparing for the inevitable assault. Red Nation intelligence hinted at the elite force''s target, prompting Kinara to mobilize the Emerald League army and focus on defending vital resources while evacuating civilians.

    One day, the sky darkened with Red Nation propaganda pamphlets, emphasizing the inevitability of their victory and offering lavish rewards, arable land, water rights, even cybernetic augmentations ¨C to those who surrendered.. Dissent stirred within the League, but Kinara remained resolute.

    Early September 2405 saw a merciless aerial bombardment by Red Nation bombers, reducing entire districts to rubble. The Emerald League''s air defenses struggled to respond. By mid-September, ground forces surged into the city, facing fierce resistance from League soldiers and skilled mercenaries. The elite Red Nation units, with their advanced weaponry, caused heavy casualties.

    Late September brought the battle to the Green Palace, a symbol of the League''s prosperity. Kinara led a desperate last stand, but the odds were insurmountable. The Red Nation''s forces quickly overwhelmed the Emerald League''s defenses and reached the city center. The final battle for the city took place at the Greenhouse Palace.

    Emerald palace guards faced their equals. A gladiator volunteer and a Red Army elite guard fought fiercely in the parks. The battle devolved into close-quarters combat until the Red Army launched an airstrike, reducing the park complex to flames. Countless rare plants were lost to the inferno.

    Kinara stood amidst the ruins of the Greenhouse Palace, the city a smoldering ruin. Thousands lay dead. She turned to her remaining guards, their faces grim. "We fought bravely," she said, her voice hoarse. "But it''s over." She raised her sword in a final salute. "Long live the Emerald League!" The soldiers echoed her cry, a defiant whisper in the smoke-filled air. Then, they turned and marched south, leaving the Red Nation to claim a pyrrhic victory.

    After pillaging the city, the Red Nation left the eastern region to Shangri-laa, who began capturing Emerald League territory from the east. The elite force''s advances across the west proceeded as expected, securing several key provinces and the large, wealthy city of Dasht-e Lut. This was a major victory and a crushing blow to the Emerald League''s economy.

    Meanwhile, Shangri-laa forces moved from Balochistan, advancing through the eastern region towards the elite force. A critical point in the fight was approaching, and a decisive battle was about to unfold.

 Chapter 96 Emerald heat

    The opulent chamber of the Emerald League Council in Tehran shimmered with the deceptive glow of jade sculptures and tapestries woven with threads of pure gold. It was a gilded cage, beautiful but ultimately confining. The air was thick not only with tension but also with the scent of expensive perfumes and dupa ¨C a testament to their clinging to the comforts of the past as the storm approached.

    Reza, a man with dark brown hair with funny mustache, addressed his colleagues. "Esteemed colleagues," he began, "we stand at a precipice. Or perhaps a gently sloping hill leading directly into the Red Nation¡¯s barbecue pit. Resistance, as they say, is like trying to stop a sandstorm with a teaspoon. Futile, messy, and likely to get sand in your tea. Let us not be martyrs in a tragedy already written in very large, very red letters. Pragmatism, my friends, is the new black. Bending the knee isn¡¯t surrendering; it¡¯s¡­ strategic kneeling. We can preserve our prosperity, our way of life ¨C albeit with slightly more red flags ¨C under their iron fist. Think of it as¡­ a hostile takeover, but with better insurance."

    Nigel, his red eyes blazing with defiance, shot back. "To surrender, Governor, would be tantamount to dishonoring the very legacy of the Emerald League, a monument to the courage and defiance of our forebears. The Red Nation offers not peace, but gilded chains, shackles that will bind us to their insatiable greed. We will not be reduced to mere vassals, drained of our resources and spirit!"

    A councilor, his voice tinged with doubt, interjected. "But Nigel, are we strong enough? Their war machine is unmatched. Can we truly stand against such might?"

    Kaveh, his face etched with concern, added, "The capture of our Green Palace is a disaster. That is the nail in our coffin."

    Nigel, with a dramatic flourish, threw out his hand, silencing the murmuring dissent. "We may not be able to match the Red Nation''s military power, but we have something they lack¡ªour spirit. We have the resolve to fight for what we believe in and to stand up against their oppression. We will not bow down to their greed and we will not surrender our freedom. We will resist and we will prevail."

    He paused, letting his words sink in. "The Emerald Oasis, a natural bastion of our terrains. We possess not only the unwavering loyalty of our mercenaries but the wisdom honed by generations of cunning minds. Let us not underestimate the potency of defiance etched in the blood of a thousand ancestors!"

    Reza leaned back, a predator savoring his prey''s struggle. "Noble sentiments, Nigel, but words cannot stop a storm. Their airship armada blots out the sun, their tanks grind the earth to dust. What will your defiance offer but a swift, bloody end?"

    Crips, the broker, her voice a low growl, cut in. "Our blades, Governor, may not match their cannons in thunder, but they carry the sting of a desert viper. Our bullets, though few, pierce with the bite of a lioness. We may not face them with an equal array of arms, but they bleed too, and their fear will be our greatest weapon. Look at Hazel and his serpents; they fight like lions! And we can do that too!"

    The chamber erupted in murmurs, a cacophony of fear and defiance. A young councilor, eyes blazing with newfound resolve, spoke up. "Let the red sands of the Oasis run red with their blood!"

    The clamor escalated, voices rising in a defiant chorus. Nigel, a grim smile playing on his lips, surveyed the room. "The Emerald League has spoken! We raise the banner of defiance! We steel our hearts, sharpen our blades, and prepare to meet the Red storm head-on! On the emerald dunes, we shall write our own destiny!"

    The chamber echoed with the thunderous cry: "Emerald League!"

    The room erupted in shouts of defiance and determination, filling the air with the thunderous cry of "Emerald League!" Nigel stood tall in the midst of the chamber, his conviction unwavering as he surveyed the room with a grim smile. He was heartened by the passion and courage of the councilors, the unity of their message, the resolve in their voices. The Emerald League had spoken and they would not be swayed by fear or intimidation. The banner of defiance was raised and they were ready to face the Red storm head-on.

    Tensions simmered in September 2405 as the Red Nation''s puppet faction within the Emerald League, led by Governor Reza, tightened its grip on lucrative trade routes and resources. Reza began stockpiling arms from the black market along the Caspian Sea coast in Mazandaran, his intentions as murky as the waters he plied.

    Mid-September saw Nigel, recognizing the threat Reza posed to the Council''s autonomy, initiating secret talks with Crips and Nara. He proposed a daring plan: exploit the mountainous terrain near Alamut Castle to ambush Reza''s forces.

    "Hey, Nigel," Crips began, her voice laced with intrigue. "Do you know what Alamut Castle was in the past?"

    Nigel thought for a moment, recognizing the name but unable to place its history. "Hmm, I know it''s significant, but I can''t recall exactly what happened there. Can you refresh my memory, Crips?"

    Crips grinned, her eyes sparkling with historical knowledge. "It was the birthplace of the assassins¡ªthe epic ninjas who killed and spied on important people during the Crusades. They even held out against the Mongol invasion. Go read up on it; it''s a pretty neat part of history."If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Nigel nodded, impressed. "Wow, that''s really interesting. I didn''t know it was the birthplace of the assassins and that they were involved in the Crusades. And they held against the Mongol invasion, too? That''s pretty incredible. I''ll have to do some more reading up on it." He smiled at her, grateful for the knowledge transfer.

    Crips leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Yeah, and now it''s our turn to follow in their footsteps against Reza."

    Nigel''s eyes lit up with inspiration. "You''re right, Crips. We can use Alamut Castle as a base for our ambush, just like the assassins did against the Crusaders. And just like them, we will stand against oppression and tyranny. We will write our own destiny, just like they did all those years ago."

    In late September, Crips leveraged her extensive network to gather valuable intelligence on Reza''s movements and supply lines. This intelligence was crucial for the success of the plan. Meanwhile, Nara, working closely with Hazel''s tanks, began mobilizing her crack team of mercenaries, honing their skills in anticipation of the clash to come. Every detail was carefully evaluated and planned, leaving no room for mistakes or surprises.

    By October 1st, Nigel, alongside skilled engineers, had worked tirelessly to manipulate the treacherous mountain passes, creating strategically placed landslides and hidden chokepoints that would funnel Reza''s forces into the killing zone. The "Emerald Maze" was constructed with precision and cunning, ensuring that no stone was left unturned in the plan.

    Crips continued to sow misinformation among Reza''s soldiers, sowing confusion and eroding morale. Meanwhile, Nara trained her mercenaries in deadly hit-and-run tactics, ensuring maximum damage with minimal exposure.

    Mid-October saw tensions reach a boiling point as Reza, lured by a fabricated opportunity to secure a valuable artifact, ordered his troops to march through Alamut. The Emerald League forces lay in wait, ready to spring their trap.

    At dawn, Reza''s army, unaware of the danger ahead, entered the Emerald Maze. Nigel unleashed the first strike, triggering controlled landslides that blocked the advance and retreat routes. Chaos erupted as Nara''s mercenaries rained down upon the trapped Red soldiers from hidden vantage points, utilizing the narrow passes and steep cliffs to their advantage. Crips'' operatives further sowed panic, sabotaging communication and spreading doubt within Reza''s ranks.

    Nigel''s strike force cut through the chaos, its warriors carving a path of carnage through the enemy lines. The strike force was led by Nigel himself, his brilliant swordsmanship and strength paving the way for the showdown between him and Governor Reza.

    "You fools! You have no chance to defeat the next Red Army invasion!" Reza shouted, his voice filled with defiance.

    Nigel stood his ground, his determination unwavering. "You can threaten us all you want, but we will not back down. The Emerald Nations will not bend to the will of the Red Army. We will not give in to the oppression being waged against us. We will withstand the power of the Red Nation and resist their invasion. The people of the Emerald Nations are strong, and we will not surrender."

    Reza led a small group of his bodyguards in a desperate attempt to break through the lines, facing fierce resistance from the strike force led by Nigel. But they were no match for Nigel and his warriors. The governor''s attempt at escape failed, and his bodyguards fell one by one, facing a wave of furious attacks from the strike force. As the situation spiraled out of control, the governor sought to flee, his chances of escape becoming narrower and narrower.

    "Alright, if you think I can''t fight, then you''re wrong, Nigel!" Reza shouted, his voice filled with desperation.

    The confrontation between Nigel and Governor Reza was a brutal one-on-one duel. The Governor, a strong fighter in his own right, pushed Nigel to his limits, their swords clashing vigorously in a battle of strength and endurance. But in the end, Nigel''s superior strategy and tactics proved too much for the Governor to handle, and he was defeated in the clash. Reza''s forces, demoralized and leaderless, either surrendered or fled into the unforgiving desert, leaving behind a victory for the Emerald League.

    As the battle dust settled, Nigel''s gaze turned toward the desert at the horizon, lost in thought. The battle was over. The governor was down. The traitor was defeated. But the Red Army was still out there, looming across the horizon.

    Crips walked up behind him, breaking his reverie. "And so we once again stand united and ready to face the Red Army. To reclaim the Green Palace. Let''s go, White Devil!"

    Nigel smiled, his resolve hardening. "Let''s go."

    As Nigel returned to their base, two figures emerged from the shadows, long rifles slung over their shoulders. One was a man dressed in what seemed to be a Napoleonic-era uniform, and the other was a woman in a simple vest, a cigarette dangling from her lips.

    "Hey, white demon," the man called out, his voice laced with familiarity. "Do you still recognize us?"

    Nigel''s eyes widened in surprise. He scanned their faces, trying to place where he had seen them before.

    "I''m Baker," the man continued, "and this is Sarah. We fought each other back in the academy. Now we''re mercs. Nara summoned us. But don''t worry, we''re not just here for the money. We want to settle some scores with the Red Nation."

    Nigel was shocked to see them alive, considering the brutal battle they had fought years earlier. He was relieved to hear they were on the same side now.

    "So, where''s the hug, man? You still a cold person?" Baker asked with a grin.

    Nigel chuckled softly. "Yeah, I''ve been called a lot of things, but I don''t think I''ve ever been called a ''warm person'' before. I''m afraid I''m not the hugging type, Baker."

    As they walked together, Baker continued, "Well, speaking of devils, do you still consider yourself a rich boy?"

    Nigel laughed heartily. "Yes, I''m still a rich boy, Baker. And don''t you forget it."

    "Good," Baker said, "because we''re damn broke. Maybe you can donate some credits. I need women, drinks, and ammo!"

    Nigel was taken aback by Baker''s brazen request. He stared at the mercenary, trying to gauge if he was serious. Eventually, he responded with a humorous tone. "I''m not just going to give you money, Baker. You''re mercenaries, not beggars. If you want money, you can earn it."

    Baker scoffed. "Yesterday, I took twelve heads of the Red Army without a scope! And Sarah managed some knife kills."

    Sarah chuckled and grinned. "Indeed. And I''m much better with my knife this time."

    Nigel chuckled along with them, impressed by their skills. But his admiration was overshadowed by the thought of the Red Army and the destruction they had caused. He knew he had to stay focused and prepare for another confrontation.

    "Well, if you still feel stingy today, at least let me access the kitchen for loot and food," Baker said. "You can pay us later."

    Nigel considered the request. "That seems reasonable. You can access the kitchen for loot and food. It''ll make things easier for us all. We can discuss payment later, at a more appropriate time."

    Sarah nodded in agreement, a slight grin on her lips. "That''s a fair compromise."

    As they separated in the base, Baker and Sarah rushed into the cafeteria. Crips approached Nigel, her expression serious.

    "When you guys were talking, I was scanning their background," Crips said. "They have a bounty on their heads. Baker and Sarah are some of the most wanted outlaws."

    Nigel raised an eyebrow. "A bounty? You''re sure?"

    "They fight effectively against the Red Nation," Crips confirmed. "Sometimes they resort to drastic measures. In one mission, they sabotaged an entire base. But in some countries, they''re known for their atrocities. They even robbed banks."

    This confirmed Nigel''s gut feeling that the two mercenaries weren''t exactly selfless. He wondered what ulterior motives they might have for joining the force. Maybe it wasn''t just about the payout.

    "If I were you," Crips continued, "I''d keep them separated from our main forces."

    Nigel took Crips''s suggestion into consideration. He decided to keep them separated while carefully monitoring their actions and behavior.

 Chapter 97 Prepare for worst

    By September 2405, the Red Nation had encircled the Kerman region. After routing the central motorized royal army brigade at Meymand, they prepared to strike Dasht-e Lut, one of the wealthiest provinces and its capital city. But after pillaging the city, they ceded the eastern region to Shangri-laa, who promptly began seizing Emerald League territory from the east.

    The constant threat of conflict weighed heavily on the soldiers. Even hardened veterans were questioning their purpose in what seemed like an endless war. In a makeshift workshop filled with the clang of metal and the sounds of vehicle repairs, the mood was somber. An older Emerald League mercenary tried to offer some words of comfort to his comrades. Then, a frail old man with a white turban spoke, his voice carrying through the din:

    "Work for your world according to your position in it. Work for your other world according to the length of your remaining in it. Work for Allah the Exalted according to your need of Him. And work for the fire according to your endurance of it."

    The message resonated with the diverse group of mercenaries, despite their varying faiths.

    "We may face setbacks," someone added, "but the sign of the real thing is in giving up regard for the work, not in giving up the work."

    An Eastern soldier, sharpening his blade, murmured, "Letting go of desires and expectations to reduce suffering and find inner peace."

    A man with tanned, dark skin added, "Working without seeking reward¡­ from the Bhagavad Gita: performing one''s duties with detachment and equanimity."

    Nods and quiet smiles spread through the group.

    meanwhile, Nara leaned back against the cool metal of the tank, her eyes half-closed as she took a moment to catch her breath. The chaos of battle had faded into a distant hum, replaced by the rhythmic thumping of her heart and the occasional clank of machinery. Just as she was about to drift off into a well-deserved nap, a familiar voice broke through her moment of peace.

    ¡°You know¡­ I know you,¡± Major Yu said, approaching with a smirk. ¡°You and Panji¡­ now it all makes sense. You¡¯re the one who defeated the blackheart and james in the Watery Grave!¡±

    Nara blinked, momentarily confused. ¡°Huh? You mean¡­ New York?¡±

    Yu nodded, her grin widening. ¡°Correct! I was once the leader of the Rats. I¡¯m Phoenix.¡±

    Nara furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall any details. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t know¡­ all I remember is we were just¡­ like¡­ destroying random pirates or slavers or something.¡±

    Yu rolled her eyes dramatically. ¡°Never mind. You were still a dumbass merc back then, weren¡¯t you?¡±

    Nara pouted a bit, crossing her arms defensively. ¡°Hey, watch your tongue!¡±

    ¡°Hah! But it¡¯s all gone now. Did you know what happened when Panji wreaked havoc in New York, Nara?¡± Yu leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Nara shook her head, genuinely curious.

    ¡°Zion¡¯s army came and annexed that place, especially after Tharig was dead,¡± Yu said, her grin turning sly. ¡°The reason I¡¯m not in the farms is that I don¡¯t have a fetus.¡±

    Nara coughed, nearly choking on her own surprise. ¡°Sorry, what?¡± She blinked, trying to process the absurdity of the statement. ¡°Uh, yeah¡­ the Free Nation is indeed a weird one. When I was in the military and in the arena, they saw us women as objects¡­¡±

    Yu¡¯s expression softened slightly, the humor fading as she recognized the weight of Nara¡¯s words. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s a tough world out there. But you know what? You¡¯re not just an object anymore. You¡¯re a warrior. You¡¯ve fought hard to earn your place.¡±

    Nara smiled, feeling a flicker of pride. ¡°Thanks, I guess. But it¡¯s still frustrating sometimes. I mean, why can¡¯t we just be seen as equals?¡±

    ¡°Welcome to the club,¡± Yu replied, crossing her arms. ¡°In this world, it¡¯s all about proving yourself. You¡¯ve got to show them you¡¯re not just a pretty face with a bat.¡±

    Nara chuckled, shaking her head. ¡°Well, I¡¯m definitely not just a pretty face. I¡¯ve got a bat, and I know how to use it!¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Exactly!¡± Yu laughed, the tension between them easing. ¡°And if anyone tries to underestimate you, just remind them of the time you took down a whole pirate crew. That¡¯ll shut them up.¡±

    ¡°Right?¡± Nara grinned, feeling emboldened. ¡°I¡¯ll just say, ¡®Hey, remember that time I single-handedly took out a bunch of pirates? Yeah, don¡¯t mess with me!¡¯¡±

    ¡°Now you¡¯re getting it!¡± Yu clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm infectious. ¡°Let¡¯s show them what we¡¯re made of. Together, we can change the narrative.¡±

    Nara nodded, her determination rekindled. ¡°Yeah! Let¡¯s do this. No more being underestimated. We¡¯re warriors, and we¡¯re here to fight!¡±

    As they stood together, the sounds of battle resumed in the distance, but for Nara and Yu, the chaos felt a little less daunting. They were not just fighting for survival; they were fighting for recognition, for equality, and for a future where women like them could stand tall and proud, side by side with their comrades.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get back to it,¡± Nara said, her spirit soaring. ¡°Time to show the world what we can do!¡±

    By mid-September, the Red Nation had turned its attention to Shangri-laa, routing their army and forcing them to retreat to Balochistan. By late September, Shangri-laa had dug in among the mountains there, holding their ground against the relentless Red Nation advance.

    Weeks after the initial Red Nation push, on the Shangri-La side, Light was called back to take command of the battered soldiers and mount a counter-offensive. He sighed, knowing he had no time to rest. The war seemed never-ending. As Light took control of the army, he noted the reports on enemy movements.

    Meanwhile, at the Red Nation''s base, one of the Wardogs, Wraith, approached Zion with a surprising request.

    "Let me fight my old little friends, Shangri-laa," Wraith said, his voice filled with eagerness.

    Trickster raised an eyebrow. "You''ve become talkative now, Wraith."

    The other Wardogs were surprised by Wraith''s sudden request to face off against the Shangri-laa forces. They turned their attention to Zion, waiting for his approval. Zion was both surprised and delighted by Wraith''s request but knew he had to consider the potential consequences of letting him go alone.

    Meanwhile, on the Shangri-laa side, Light was called back to take command of the battered soldiers and fight back against the Red Nation army. He sighed, knowing he had no time to rest. The war seemed never-ending.

    As Light took control of the army, he couldn''t help but raise an eyebrow when he looked at the time. It was late in the afternoon.

    Wraith, with his extensive experience in mountain warfare from his time living with the Himalayan monks, was leading a Red Army division through the Balochistan badlands. His high-precision mortars, special troops with jetpacks, and ruthless strategy of slaughtering settlements to discourage resistance made him a formidable opponent.

    ¡°So,¡± Wraith began, a predatory gleam in his eye, ¡°about those monks¡­ they owe me. Big time. Remember that time they locked me in that meditation cave with no Wi-Fi for three months? Three months! I almost had to resort to reading. This isn¡¯t about strategy, it¡¯s about revenge. And maybe a little light looting. Mostly revenge, though. Definitely mostly revenge. And that is for contain me on the prisoner without proper internet you fools, then i will make your entire nation go without internet forever!¡± wraith intertwined his finger when look at destruction of his army.

    meanwhile A monk scout reported to Light, "Sir, the Red Army division is led by a man named Wraith. His division commands around 30,000 troops and is spearheading towards our territory. Meanwhile, their army group consists of around 200,000 to 300,000 troops still far behind Wraith."

    Light''s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn''t expected the Red Nation to still try to attack, but he understood their strategy. They wanted to split his group and make them easier to defeat.

    "How much time until they arrive?" Light asked.

    "Their army group is still around Sur Bandar, and their vanguard division is in Pasni. They are separated by over 100 km. They took the road near the shoreline of the Arabian Sea," the scout replied.

    Light sighed. "It will still take some time for their reinforcements to reach here, but we can''t just wait for them either."

    He pondered how to stop them from reaching his territory. "Does the path they take have any obstacles?"

    "We can take care of them after they pass Pasni. The valleys and gorges of Balochistan will be our natural stronghold," the scout said.

    "I see. That makes sense," Light said, then had an idea. "We should fortify the Balochistan Pass. It¡¯s the ideal chokepoint."

    The engineer leaned back, a smirk on his face. ¡°With a small team, we can modify one glider into a wind rider a day. We¡¯re reinforcing the frames with scavenged durasteel and mounting salvaged rocket pods and light autocannons for both anti-air and ground support. Roughly a week to finish them all.¡±

    Light raised an eyebrow, half in disbelief and half in admiration. ¡°One glider a day? Impressive! But what about ammo? Do we have enough for those gliders?¡±

    The monk chimed in, ¡°If we go on the counter-offensive, we can scavenge from our pillboxes.¡±

    ¡°Great! So we just need to prep the gliders and wait for reinforcements,¡± Light said, but then his expression shifted. ¡°Wait a minute¡­ what about fuel? Do we have enough to move our troops and those gliders?¡±

    ¡°Relax,¡± the monk replied, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°We¡¯re on home turf. Our troops know the hidden passages for supply runs.¡±

    Light sighed in relief. ¡°Good to hear. But what about that Wraith division? When are they going to attack? Do we have time to modify the gliders into anti-air units?¡±

    After a long pause, the monk replied, ¡°If I were the Wraith, I¡¯d keep moving until I captured Karachi, then methodically head north through the mountain passes. So, we can assume they¡¯ll attack during the Karachi siege.¡±

    Light¡¯s eyes lit up with a sudden idea. ¡°What if we create a small force as a distraction? A lure, if you will?¡±

    A grin spread across his face. ¡°We could trick the Wraith into splitting their forces by making them think we¡¯re resisting on the coast. Then, we can use the gliders to attack them. That should reduce their numbers!¡±

    ¡°Lure? Absolutely! We can use our most agile units for that,¡± the monk agreed.

    ¡°Perfect! So, we prepare the gliders for anti-air while using the warrior monks and partisans as bait. We¡¯ll let the enemy think we¡¯re resisting their advance on the coast, forcing them to split their forces. Sounds good, right?¡±

    ¡°Definitely,¡± the monk confirmed.

    ¡°Then that¡¯s our plan! We also need to secure our position in the Balochistan pass with the anti-air gliders while using fast ground units for support against ground attacks.¡± Light felt a bit more at ease but still worried about the plan¡¯s execution.

    ¡°So, we¡¯re preparing the gliders and setting up the warrior monks and partisans as bait while securing our position from enemy air attacks. Is that everything?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± the monk replied.

    ¡°Alright, we have a plan. Now we just need time and enough supplies to execute it.¡± Light took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. ¡°Once we secure our position and set the lure, all we can do is hope it works.¡±

 Chapter 98 The Torrent

    In the Pamir Mountains, a land of rugged peaks and glacial scars, General Picot of the Yellow Nation knelt before Zion, his fur cloak stark against the snow. ¡°Liar!¡± he snarled. ¡°You promised me ten cities! You destroyed them!¡±

    Zion met his gaze, unfazed. ¡°I delivered the cities. Their contents¡­ relocated.¡± He picked up his old fire axe, the steel gleaming in the thin mountain air. ¡°Greedy fool. But thanks for clearing the path for my forces.¡± With a swift, brutal swing, he beheaded Picot.

    The room fell silent as men removed the body. Zion slumped into his chair, exhaustion etched on his face.

    Wraith materialized from the shadows. ¡°Chaos is the canvas. I provide the brush. What masterpiece will you paint?¡±

    Zion¡¯s voice was barely a whisper. ¡°What if the masterpiece is destruction?¡±

    ¡°Destruction is creation¡¯s shadow,¡± Wraith replied. ¡°Every end is a beginning.¡±

    Wraith¡¯s gaze bored into Zion. ¡°You think immortality is a gift? It¡¯s a curse. I¡¯ve seen empires crumble. Wisdom always arrives too late. What will you be, Zion? A god¡­ or a monster?¡±

    A few days later, the Wraith division marched methodically along the seashore, their turrets trained on the mountains as they closed in on Karachi. They razed a couple of settlements, leaving destruction in their wake, while partisans along the coastline hesitated to raid their route. The only significant natural barrier between the Wraiths and Karachi was the Hop River.

    The sight of the advancing Wraith division sent a knot of anxiety twisting in Light¡¯s gut. He watched through his binoculars as the armored vehicles moved relentlessly ¡°They didn¡¯t fall for the bait,¡± he muttered, watching the enemy advance. ¡°This isn¡¯t good. Their size and power are overwhelming. I need a new plan¡ªfast.¡±

    Suddenly, an idea sparked as he studied the map. ¡°They¡¯re moving forward, but they¡¯ll likely slow down to avoid ambushes. We can use that to our advantage.¡±

    The monk chimed in, ¡°We need to focus on building the Karachi defensive line. The Shangri-La Confederacy isn¡¯t united; they still listen to their religious leaders. If we can show the capital we can defend this region, they might send help and unite the confederacy.¡±

    Light nodded, a glimmer of hope igniting. ¡°A small victory could rally them. But why haven¡¯t they sent reinforcements yet? Don¡¯t they realize we can¡¯t hold this place much longer?¡±

    The monk sighed. ¡°They¡¯ve always had different agendas, alienating their own people due to ancestral heritage.¡±

    ¡°So, the Shangri-La Confederacy is split between military and civilian interests?¡± Light frowned. ¡°That¡¯s not good. It could lead to internal conflict. We need their support, or this could end in disaster.¡±

    They set up base north of Karachi, near the Hop River dam, keeping a close watch on the Wraiths along the coastline.

    ¡°Clever move,¡± Light remarked, recognizing the strategic advantage. ¡°We can secure the vital river for water supply and slow the Wraiths¡¯ mobility. If they try to cross, they¡¯ll have to split their forces.¡±

    But as hours passed, the Wraiths constructed multiple pontoon bridges, preparing to flood their army into Karachi.

    Light raised an eyebrow as he see wraith bellow them unfazed . ¡°They¡¯re readying for an assault. This is bad. Our plan has only delayed them, and now it feels like we¡¯re heading for a war of attrition.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s our next move?¡± the monk asked.

    ¡°I can¡¯t sit idle. We need something to throw them off, something to make them hesitate,¡± Light replied, desperation creeping into his voice.

    Later, the monk reported, ¡°Our general has split orders¡ªsome are forcing Karachi civilians to join the defense, while others are letting them flee. What¡¯s your command?¡±

    Light frowned, his nerves fraying. ¡°There¡¯s no point in forcing civilians into defense. They have no combat experience. We should evacuate them for their safety.¡±

    As they monitored the situation, thousands of refugees fled Karachi, transforming the once-bustling city into a ghost town.

    Light¡¯s heart sank as he watched the monitors. ¡°My God¡­ even the civilians are leaving. This is going to end badly.¡±

    Meanwhile, the Wraiths completed their pontoon bridges, setting sentries on both sides of the river.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Light¡¯s anxiety spiked. ¡°They¡¯re serious about taking this place. If they launch a full attack, it could spell doom for the Shangri-La Confederation and Karachi.¡±

    As the Wraith division began crossing the bridge, the Shangri-La army bombarded it with artillery and missiles, but the Wraiths¡¯ advanced anti-air guns shot down projectiles mid-air.

    Light watched in despair. ¡°Their anti-air capabilities are formidable. Our artillery is useless against them. If this continues, they¡¯ll reach Karachi in no time.¡±

    Then he spotted some monks fishing by the dam, smiling as they passed his tent, seemingly unfazed by the chaos.

    Light felt a momentary calm wash over him. ¡°How can they be so relaxed?¡± he wondered.

    ¡°Do you want to flood them?¡± the monk asked, breaking his reverie.

    Light snapped back to reality. ¡°The dam! We can use it to slow them down!¡± He glanced at the massive hydro-electric arc dam that held back the Hop River, its curved concrete face gleaming in the sun. It was a marvel of pre-Collapse engineering, still functioning despite the ravages of time, worry creeping in. ¡°But what about the civilians? If I flood this place, it could endanger them too. This is a tough decision.¡±

    The monk nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll charge at them to force them to dig in. While they¡¯re distracted, we¡¯ll implement the flood attack.¡±

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s the plan. We¡¯ll charge and force them to dig in, then unleash the flood,¡± Light confirmed, determination hardening in his voice. ¡°But we need to ensure everyone is prepared. Time is running out before the Wraiths reach the city.¡±

    ¡°Our monk warriors are ready to die. We have one chance after they finish crossing,¡± the monk said, steeling himself.

    Light smiled at the monk¡¯s resolve. ¡°We can¡¯t lose this chance. The Wraiths are almost at Karachi. It¡¯s time to execute our plan!¡±

    The monk division set their sights on the bridge, ready to launch their attack.

    ¡°Do you want to give them a last speech?¡± the monk asked, a glint of anticipation in his eyes.

    Light paused, considering. ¡°Hmm... yes, if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d like to do it over the radio. I want to make it dramatic and inspire them. Is that okay?¡±

    ¡°All ears are yours,¡± the monk replied, nodding.

    Light pressed the button, activating the radio. ¡°I know the situation seems dire right now, but don¡¯t lose hope!¡± His voice boomed with conviction. ¡°We will win this battle! We will defend this city no matter what! We will never surrender and fight until our last breath! We will not let the enemy take our home!¡±

    ¡°Soldiers! We will give them a fight! We will strike back with everything we¡¯ve got! If they think their overwhelming force is enough to take this city, let us show them they are dead wrong!¡±

    Cheers erupted from the soldiers, weapons raised high¡ªspears, machine guns, all gleaming in the fading light.

    Light felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw their spirits lift. ¡°This is good... now we just have to wait for the signal to attack.¡± He glanced at the monitor, where the Wraith division was nearing the bridge, almost ready to cross.

    Some soldiers were praying, others relaxed, and a few played with their weapons, their eyes fixed on the approaching Red Army below.

    Light noticed their calm demeanor. ¡°They seem relaxed... they must have some mental strength. If they believe they will win, their fighting spirit will be stronger.¡± He grinned, realizing why these soldiers had never submitted to the Wraiths.

    But the monk interjected, ¡°No, sir. They¡¯re relaxed because they know this will be a 100% suicidal charge.¡±

    Light was momentarily taken aback by the monk¡¯s bluntness. ¡°Wait, what? They¡¯re aware of that?¡± Then it hit him¡ªthis was their belief, their faith. They believed they would be rewarded for their sacrifice.

    A smirk crept onto Light¡¯s face. ¡°Those soldiers... they see death as part of their duty. It¡¯s understandable.¡±

    ¡°Are you ready to see it?¡± the monk asked, his tone serious.

    Light nodded, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling within him. ¡°I am... but I have a feeling it won¡¯t be pretty.¡±

    He pressed the radio button again. ¡°Soldiers! Prepare for the signal! Stay focused and be ready!¡±

    The mountainside fell silent, the only sounds being the wind and the occasional chirp of birds.

    Light felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach. The stillness was unnerving, heightening his nerves. ¡°What am I waiting for?¡± he muttered to himself.

    ¡°Sir, what are you waiting for?¡± the monk prompted, breaking his reverie.

    Light blinked, startled. ¡°Wait! What? That quickly? I thought we still had time!¡±

    His heart raced as he glanced at the monitor. The Wraith division was now only 50 meters from the city¡ªcloser than he had anticipated.

    ¡°Okay, this is it! We need to act now!¡±

    ¡°You are the general. Command them to face their death,¡± the monk urged.

    Light pressed the radio button again, his voice steady. ¡°Soldiers! Now! Execute the plan! The dam bursts!¡±

    ¡°CHARGE!¡± he yelled, rallying his troops. ¡°Charge!!¡±

    The soldiers descended the mountains, some taunting the enemy, others firing their weapons as they ran. Some took cover behind boulders, methodically shooting, while a few charged straight into the fray, ignoring the incoming fire.

    Light felt a surge of tension as he watched his soldiers rush toward the Wraith position, a literal ¡°Death Charge.¡± He was filled with worry, knowing he could only watch the outcome unfold.

    Then, the Wraith army halted their bridge crossing, mounting sentries and digging in. A small group of soldiers managed to reach the Red Army side, engaging in close-quarters combat after their grueling run from the mountains.

    Light¡¯s heart raced. ¡°They¡¯re actually making progress! They have a chance!¡± He marveled at their bravery, realizing they deserved medals for their efforts.

    The monk handed Light the detonator for the explosives planted on the dam. ¡°Now¡¯s the time for the final strike.¡±

    Light¡¯s eyes widened as he looked at the dam. ¡°Is it time? Let¡¯s do this!¡±

    He pressed the detonator, and the dam exploded, unleashing a massive flood toward the enemy.

    Wraith soldiers¡¯ eyes widened in shock as they saw the torrent of water descending from the mountains. They hadn¡¯t expected the dam to be blown. The Red Army scattered in all directions, engulfed by the flood, their soldiers and equipment swept away toward the sea.

    With the flood wave crashing down, the Red Army was pushed back, their momentum shattered. Light couldn¡¯t believe the miracle unfolding before him.

    But as he watched, he saw the remaining Wraith leadership continue their push toward Karachi, not to capture it, but to destroy it. They began firing at buildings, setting the city ablaze.

    Light¡¯s heart sank as he saw the flames engulfing Karachi. ¡°This is bad... really bad!¡±

    The monk noted, ¡°We wiped out their main army¡ªover 100,000 troops and their equipment drowned. But we have no soldiers left to defend Karachi after our last charge.¡±

    Light felt a mix of relief and dread. ¡°We¡¯ve defeated their main force, but the city is doomed. We must prepare to evacuate the citizens...¡±

    He paused, realizing the gravity of their situation. ¡°Wait... over 100,000? That¡¯s almost their entire force. They won¡¯t have another major force, right?¡±

    ¡°Probably not,¡± the monk replied with a chuckle. ¡°Who can count that massive number?¡±

    Light smiled at the monk¡¯s humor, but then a realization hit him. ¡°Wait... I actually defeated them, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Half win,¡± the monk replied. ¡°But Karachi is now defenseless.¡±

    ¡°Half win, huh? You¡¯re right... but at least we destroyed their major force. That¡¯s a good thing. But if they destroy the civilians and their buildings... I have to call for an evacuation. We need to move the civilians to safety.¡±

 Chapter 99 Ambiguous Allegiances

    Despite heavy losses, with tanks stuck on the beach and high-grade military equipment discarded into the sea, thousands of lifeless bodies floated in the water as Wraith began the Siege of Karachi.

    For a day, the Red Army had transformed a portion of Karachi into a burning hellscape, torching buildings and terrorizing trapped civilians. They deployed drones that mimicked the cries of babies, luring civilians out of their hiding places. As they ventured forth, the Wraith drones unleashed artillery strikes on their positions, creating complete chaos.

    ¡°Good... I will make the defending the righteous force proud. Continue the blood flowing!¡± Wraith grinned, reveling in the destruction.

    The news reports were grim; violations and atrocities against innocent people filled the airwaves, and Light felt a simmering frustration boil within him.

    ¡°Damn it,¡± Light muttered, clenching his fists. ¡°The Wraiths aren¡¯t stopping. They¡¯re just making this worse for everyone.¡±

    Despite studying six religions, Wraith had learned nothing about being a good person. The Red Army advanced further, razing the northern part of the city, where floodwaters lapped at their ankles. The chaos was palpable, and the sight of soldiers trudging through the murky water only deepened Light''s anger. Just as he was about to take action, a battleship appeared on the horizon, cutting through the waves toward Karachi.

    ¡°Pirates? Friend or foe?¡± Light wondered aloud, his heart racing. ¡°Please don¡¯t let it be backup for the Wraiths¡­¡±

    As the pirates began firing at the Red Army¡¯s coastal defenses, Monk observed, ¡°They seem to be targeting both sides. Looks like they¡¯re just here to profit off the chaos.¡±

    "Profit," Monk replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "This chaos is a goldmine for them."

    ¡°Interesting¡­ very interesting,¡± Light remarked, a wry smile creeping onto his face. ¡°They don¡¯t care who wins as long as they can make a buck.¡±

    ¡°True, but this situation is getting out of control,¡± Monk said, concern creeping into his voice. ¡°Luckily, our mountain stronghold is too fortified for their naval cannons. Still, it¡¯s irritating to see some factions profiting from others¡¯ suffering.¡±

    Light nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding in Karachi. The Wraiths were gaining the upper hand, blockading the harbor and cutting off reinforcements. ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of time before they overrun the city,¡± he muttered, frustration boiling beneath the surface.

    Suddenly, Monk¡¯s voice broke through his thoughts. ¡°Sir, you need to see this.¡±

    Light turned, startled, as Monk pointed to the radar. ¡°An aircraft carrier is approaching from nowhere, likely headed for the Gulf of Oman. It must be their flagship!¡±

    ¡°An aircraft carrier?¡± Light said, alarm rising. ¡°That changes everything.¡± Monk shook his head. ¡°Definitely not the pirates.¡± ¡°Then it¡¯s serious,¡± Light said, dread creeping in. ¡°If it reaches the Gulf¡­¡± He grabbed the radio. ¡°Get me the air force. We need to intercept that carrier.¡±

    Half an hour later, a squadron of torpedo bombers soared through the skies, bypassing the battleship near Karachi. Monk observed, ¡°It looks like the capital is prioritizing that carrier over the destruction of Karachi.¡±

    Light frowned. ¡°I guess that makes sense. The carrier could carry the main force of a country. But it also means they¡¯re leaving our city and its citizens to suffer. I really hope that carrier doesn¡¯t make it to the Gulf intact.¡±

    As night fell, reinforcements arrived. Monk reported, ¡°Sir, the capital has sent 10,000 regulars to your command.¡±

    ¡°Ten thousand? That¡¯s actually¡­ pretty damn good,¡± Light said, a glimmer of hope sparking in his heart. ¡°Finally, we have a real chance!¡±

    Monk nodded, but his expression darkened. ¡°The challenge is the path itself. The flood has slowed both armies down, and this will be a city battle.¡±

    ¡°Damn¡­ it¡¯s the worst situation for a counteroffensive, especially in a flooded city,¡± Light replied, steeling himself. ¡°But we have to take back that city. If we fail, the civilians will suffer greatly under Wraith tyranny.¡±

    ¡°Agreed. We could attack tonight or wait until tomorrow morning,¡± Monk suggested.

    ¡°Tonight it is. This war must end soon, no matter what,¡± Light declared, determination hardening in his voice.

    Light pressed the button for the radio signal, his expression serious. ¡°Soldiers! This is it! This is your time! We must reclaim this city before the Wraith army arrives and takes it instead! This is the most important move for all of us¡­¡±

    As he spoke, he could see the resolve in their eyes. They were ready to fight, despite the horrors that surrounded them.

    Monk nodded in silent agreement, and on the monitor, the regulars began their march toward Karachi. The city lay in darkness, the electricity shut down to prevent enemy coordination. Flames flickered in the wreckage, throwing creepy shadows everywhere.

    the wraith forces are still busy on their warcrime activities. monks Estimates suggest around 150,000 wraith forces were still around the dense city of karachi. while light force under its command its was around 15000, a straight-up 1:10 slugfest. Not ideal.

    But Light had a trick up his sleeve. He¡¯d ordered 7,000 of his guys to dress up as Red Army, complete with IR markers so they wouldn''t get friendly-fired. These undercover soldiers were now hitting the Wraith¡¯s distracted forces hard, right in the city¡¯s guts.

    Monk¡¯s crew racked up a serious body count that night, really shaking things up for the Wraith. His soldiers started getting jumpy, paranoid, even suspicious of each other. In a desperate move, Wraith ordered everyone to fall back to the coastal mall for a regroup.

    Light could see the soldiers advancing on the monitor, the flood aiding their movement as the Red Army remained preoccupied with the fortress. ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± he thought, pushing through the mire of destruction. ¡°We can¡¯t give up now!¡±

    As they reached the mall complex, the scene was nightmarish¡ªwater mixed with debris and lifeless bodies. The soldiers pressed on, determined to face the Red Army¡¯s defenses head-on.

    ¡°Monk,¡± Light said, his voice steady. ¡°Let¡¯s lead by example.¡±

    Monk drew his machete with a fierce grin. ¡°Let¡¯s do this!¡±

    Light accepted the pistol and machete, his resolve firm. ¡°We will not back down! The time to break the Wraith defenses is now!¡±

    The soldiers, emboldened by Light¡¯s presence, surged forward, ready to reclaim their city from the clutches of chaos. The battle for Karachi was about to begin, and they would fight with everything they had.

    Light surveyed the massive pile of treasures before him, a sinking feeling settling in his gut. This is not good... he thought. If even a single enemy soldier survived, they would have enough wealth to fund reinforcements and mount a comeback. He had to ensure that the enemy had no chance to recover.

    With a firm nod, he signaled to his troops. ¡°Soldiers! Don¡¯t waste your time looting! Focus on your task¡ªeliminate the enemy! The wealth here doesn¡¯t matter as much as finishing this battle!¡±

    The monk relayed the message over the radio, urging the soldiers to remember that the treasures belonged to the people of Karachi. Some soldiers heeded the call, pushing forward against the Red Army, section by section, through the mall area.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Light observed the soldiers who followed orders well, but he couldn¡¯t ignore the ones who didn¡¯t. It¡¯s hard enough to break through the enemy lines without dealing with looters, he thought. We can¡¯t afford to let our guard down.

    Hours passed, and the mall complex shook as the Mumbai pirates resumed their bombardment, targeting both the Red Army and the Shangri-La forces.

    ¡°The pirates are back,¡± Light grimaced. ¡°They must not have expected our counter-offensive to succeed, or they¡¯re just here for profit. Either way, we¡¯re caught in a crossfire between two enemy forces.¡±

    ¡°Sir! They¡¯re dispatching small boats from their battleship toward us!¡± the monk shouted.

    Light¡¯s heart sank. ¡°That¡¯s bad news. They¡¯re either trying to reinforce the coastal area or set us up for failure.¡± He glanced at the monitor, watching the boats approach from the sea.

    ¡°Red Army is cornered,¡± the monk reported. ¡°We can push forward, but those pirates could hit our flanks.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Light replied, frustration mounting. ¡°We can¡¯t ignore them and push forward; that would be too risky.¡± He looked back at the monitor, weighing the threats. ¡°Tell the soldiers to attack the pirate boats first while the main force keeps pushing forward.¡±

    The troops quickly positioned their machine guns toward the incoming small boats, ready to fire. As the machine gunners opened fire, they shot and moved away just in time to avoid the battleship¡¯s cannon fire. A few boats sank, but many managed to launch their amphibious assault on the southern part of the mall.

    ¡°Oh man, this is bad,¡± Light muttered. ¡°They didn¡¯t expect some of their boats to survive. It¡¯s a minor loss, but it¡¯s also a mistake on our part. We need to eliminate them before they bring in more troops. I really don¡¯t want this attack to fail and let the enemy regain their strength.¡±

    Minutes later, the Red Army began loading their treasures onto the small boats, and suddenly, the pirates and Red Army stopped firing at each other.

    ¡°It looks like the Wraith and the pirates have struck a deal,¡± the monk observed.

    Light raised an eyebrow, disbelief washing over him. ¡°They made a deal? The Red Army is trying to flee with their treasures, aided by the pirates?¡± He shook his head, trying to process the absurdity of it all.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just keep killing them all,¡± the monk suggested, ¡°but their naval bombardment is still our main problem.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Light replied, anxiety creeping in. ¡°If they keep launching missiles, we might get crushed in the crossfire. This is a tough situation.¡± He glanced at the monitor again, noting the intensity of the fight. The Red Army was slowly retreating, but they were still holding firm, especially with the battleship firing missiles at the mall area.

    ¡°We must act before they flee,¡± the monk urged. ¡°What can we do?¡±

    ¡°No matter what, that treasure can¡¯t leave this land,¡± Light declared. ¡°If it does, they¡¯ll use that wealth to reinforce their military strength and possibly take back the city.¡± He sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. ¡°There¡¯s no choice. I¡¯m going to let our artillery fire at those small boats. It¡¯s the only way to ensure the treasure doesn¡¯t leave.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± the monk agreed. ¡°Our artillery may be less accurate, but with the laser target marking device, we can enhance our precision.¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Light nodded. ¡°We can¡¯t let them escape with those treasures. It¡¯s the only way to break their momentum and ensure they can¡¯t recover quickly.¡±

    The soldiers scattered across rooftops and behind buildings, preparing to target the small boats for artillery strikes. After a salvo of shells, many boats sank, while only a few managed to escape back to the battleship, their gold, gems, and artifacts sinking into the sea.

    ¡°That¡¯s more than I expected,¡± Light said, a flicker of hope igniting. ¡°They didn¡¯t see that coming. But we can¡¯t celebrate yet. The battleship still poses a threat, and the Red Army is still holding strong. Our artillery must continue firing on that battleship. We can¡¯t give the enemy a chance to escape.¡±

    As the battleship became aware of the danger, it turned away, leaving some pirates stranded in small boats. They raised white flags in surrender.

    ¡°They surrender just like that?¡± Light asked, suspicion creeping in. ¡°That seems... suspicious. I¡¯m not sure I can trust them yet. They came here to help the Red Army, but now they don¡¯t want to fight? What are they really after?¡±

    ¡°Kill them all, sir?¡± the monk suggested.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Light replied, his voice firm. ¡°Kill them all. They are the enemy after all.¡± He sighed, raising an eyebrow at the monk. ¡°No matter what, we can¡¯t let anyone escape with the treasure. Let the artillery and regular soldiers finish the job.¡±

    The soldiers resumed firing at the small boats, turning the sea south of the mall into a graveyard of wrecks and floating bodies.

    The sea was now littered with the remnants of battle. The attack on the boats had succeeded; the artillery and soldiers had eliminated most of them. Only a few small boats managed to escape to the battleship. The Red Army couldn¡¯t leave with their treasures, but Light was left wondering if they would truly surrender or if it was all a ruse. Can I trust them to come in peace? Are they really surrendering?

    As the remnants of the Red Army scattered throughout the city, the monk remarked, ¡°We didn¡¯t find any sign of the Wraith. He probably managed to flee to the city or escape with those small boats.¡±

    ¡°So he escaped with his small boat,¡± Light mused. ¡°What do we do now? Should we leave the remaining small boats and finish off the remaining Red Army positions, or should we pursue the smaller vessels first? Or should we just wait and see if he really fled?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve won for now,¡± the monk replied, gazing out at the sea from the damaged mall windows. ¡°Kinda.¡±

    Light stood amidst the aftermath of battle, a mix of relief and concern washing over him. ¡°We¡¯ve won... for now,¡± he declared, surveying the remnants of the Red Army. Their main force lay defeated, with only a handful managing to escape. The battleship had retreated, but the specter of the Wraith loomed large. ¡°This isn¡¯t over yet. We can¡¯t just abandon this city and return to Shangri-La. Our mission is to stop the Wraith from conquering this land.¡±

    The monk nodded, determination etched on his face. ¡°We will get them next time.¡±

    Light sighed, a hint of frustration creeping in. ¡°So be it. At least we¡¯ve managed to weaken them a bit. That should count for something... unless we let those small boats slip away.¡± He paused, the weight of their victory settling in. ¡°But we mustn¡¯t let arrogance cloud our judgment.¡±

    As they lined up the captured Red Army soldiers, Light¡¯s heart sank. Among them were children, some as young as twelve, alongside mercenaries and seasoned fighters. ¡°What are they doing on the front lines?¡± he wondered aloud. ¡°How did they end up here? Are the Wraith truly forcing these kids and mercs to fight?¡±

    The monk placed a hand on Light''s shoulder. "War makes monsters of us all,." He gestured to a recovered data pad. "We found this on one of the officers. It details an agreement between Wraith and the pirate captains. Loot sharing in exchange for naval support."

    Light took the data pad, his brow furrowed. This changed everything.

    The monk replied, ¡°They call themselves the Free World Revolutionary People¡¯s Army. We also uncovered clues about the pirates¡¯ motives. It seems the Wraith managed to contact the pirate captains, striking a deal to share the loot in exchange for their naval support.¡±

    Light¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°So the Wraith is asking for a cut of the wealth in return for backing the Red Army? That¡¯s a small price to pay for them.¡± He began to pace, contemplating the implications. ¡°I can see why they¡¯d make that deal. It might not be too late for us to negotiate under the same terms, but we need to break the alliance between the Wraith and the pirates.¡±

    ¡°Money can melt pride,¡± the monk suggested.

    Light grimaced. ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of appearing as someone who only cares about money, but it might be our only option.¡± He glanced at his weary soldiers, some still catching their breath after the fight. ¡°They need rest. I¡¯ll try to use my diplomatic skills to negotiate with the pirates.¡± He sighed deeply. ¡°If that doesn¡¯t work, I may have to resort to more... unconventional methods to sever their alliance.¡±

    The monk¡¯s eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. ¡°A nice idea. Just offer the pirates more money to bring back the Wraith¡¯s head.¡±

    Light¡¯s expression brightened at the thought. ¡°If they bring back the Wraith¡¯s head, that would certainly shatter their alliance.¡± He looked out toward the pirate boats anchored nearby, their presence a reminder of the precarious situation. ¡°They¡¯re not far away... actually, they¡¯re quite close.¡±

    With renewed determination, Light nodded. ¡°Let me try that!¡±

    In the makeshift command center on mall, Light squinted at the monitor, an impending sense of absurdity hanging in the air. After several attempts to make contact, a flamboyantly dressed pirate popped onto the screen, his yellow attire clashing violently with the grim seriousness of the situation. ¡°What do you want, monks?¡± he slurred, a mischievous grin stretching across his face.

    ¡°Hello,¡± Light replied, his voice steady despite the surreal encounter. ¡°I¡¯m here to negotiate. You¡¯ve fought alongside the Red Army, but is wealth really your only interest? I can offer you something better.¡±

    The pirate chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a dramatic flair. ¡°We want all the gold, but our main objective? Just being a jozen good pet.¡±

    Light scratched his head, perplexed. ¡°So you¡¯re just being used? Can I really offer you more than they do? I can pay you even more than the warlord.¡±

    ¡°Nah,¡± the pirate said with a wave of his hand. ¡°We¡¯re not loyal to the Red Army. The Nation of Sea¡ªthat''s our true overlord. You call it the Blue Nation.¡±

    ¡°Oh, interesting,¡± Light said, a spark igniting in his mind. ¡°So the rivalry runs deep. How¡¯s your relationship with the Blue Nation? Can you defy the Red Army and still be on good terms with them? If you can, could you pass along my offer?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not in the mood to discuss my bedwetting stories,¡± the pirate shot back. ¡°So let me be clear: you want Wraith¡¯s head, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Light¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Wraith¡¯s head? You mean the Wraith himself? You could bring it here?¡±

    The pirate grinned devilishly. ¡°Sure. Just a moment.¡± A few seconds later, he held up a glass jar containing a head¡ªWraith¡¯s head, to be precise. It bobbed grotesquely, its pale skin and empty eye sockets a disturbing sight.

    Light¡¯s heart raced. ¡°One million credits for that head?¡± He paused, weighing the absurdity of the situation. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of money, but¡­ it¡¯s Wraith. I don¡¯t mind paying, but this deal feels a bit too good to be true.¡±

    ¡°I took his treasure, and now he¡¯s dead to hell,¡± the pirate proclaimed proudly. ¡°He can¡¯t do anything to me. So, you like it, right?¡±

    ¡°Tempting,¡± Light admitted, his mind swirling with doubts. ¡°But I think I¡¯ll pay for it. One million credits for that head.¡±

    ¡°Good! I¡¯ll send my men to drop it in a remote area. Just make sure your men bring the cash. Don¡¯t be clever about it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll send my men with the money,¡± Light agreed, his mind racing with the implications. ¡°But make sure that head isn¡¯t a fake, and that the money is real. I don¡¯t want any complications.¡±

    ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll send coordinates soon. Sumbhajee out.¡±

    As the monitor flickered off, Light was left in silence, grappling with the gravity of his decision. Had he really just paid a ridiculous sum for a warlord¡¯s head?

    ¡°Why did they kill Wraith, I wonder?¡± one of the monks mused. ¡°I feel bad for him, even if he was the antagonist.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Light replied, frowning. ¡°But selling his head like a trophy? Is that really the right thing to do? Do they think death is the only answer for a warlord?¡±

    The pirate chose a meeting spot on a small island off Oman¡ªMasirah Island. After a tense exchange, Light found himself holding the jar. He stared at the head inside, a grotesque trophy now sealed in glass.

    ¡°Finally, the transaction is done,¡± he muttered, peering into the jar. The sight was disturbingly creepy, yet undeniably significant. ¡°I must return to my soldiers and share this news.¡±

    ¡°What will you do with that head?¡± the monk asked, curiosity piqued.

    ¡°I¡¯ll bring it to Shangri-La,¡± Light said, his mind racing ahead. ¡°My soldiers have captured some Red Army troops; we can use this as leverage to negotiate and put an end to this war.¡± He glanced at the jar again, the head lying lifelessly within. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ too creepy.¡±

    The monk nodded knowingly. ¡°Ah, to show real evidence of your actions, right? To earn more medals.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Light replied, a hint of reluctance in his voice. ¡°For the media coverage too.¡± He tightened the lid on the jar, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling creeping over him.

    ¡°Material acquisition is all people want,¡± the monk observed, a wry smile forming.

    ¡°That¡¯s the truth,¡± Light admitted, gripping the glass tightly. The head¡¯s empty sockets seemed to bore into him, a ghostly reminder of the life it once held. ¡°But it¡¯s just so disturbing¡­¡±

    ¡°Here.¡± The monk offered Light a bag.

    ¡°What¡¯s this for?¡± Light asked, taking the bag.

    ¡°To make it less creepy,¡± the monk replied,

    Light placed the jar inside the bag, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ a head. A dead person¡¯s head. Nothing to be afraid of, right?¡±

    in distant shore. the pirate then escort wraith. Sumbhajee, the flamboyant pirate, clapped Wraith on the shoulder, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Pleasure doing business with you, Wraith old boy! Tell Zion I said ''hi''!" He then turned and swaggered back to his ship, leaving Wraith standing alone on the beach.

    Wraith dusts off his coat. "Right. Well, that was¡­ anticlimactic."

    then streach his arms, he murmured, more to himself than anyone ¡°well. i think ofensive warfare is not my skill. lets go back to monopoly and sim city games¡± With a casual air, he turned and walked towards the waiting transport pod, his Amazonian Praetorian guards falling into formation around him.

 Chapter 100 To The Sky

    After the stalemate on the Emerald league front, and set back of zion force fail to invade shangri laa,

    Nara, Tetsuya, and her band of mercenaries set their sights on the Hejaz Caliphate¡ªher grandfather''s nation¡ªseeking help.

    They passed through the Zagros Mountains in Persia and finally reached the Black Nation, the Caliphate. The landscape was a lush green, with steep hills covered in vibrant vegetation. Thanks to climate change and advanced soil techniques,

    What was once a harsh desert had been transformed into a controlled ecosystem, the result of generations of dedicated research into xero-agriculture (farming with less water) and bio-engineered flora. Towering wind farms dotted the higher elevations, providing clean energy for the region.

    He popped his head out of the cupola, the wind whipping at his goggles, and looked up at Nara, who was perched precariously on the tank''s turret, her hair streaming out behind her like a dark banner.

    ¡°so.. you a noble ?, how heck a noble wandering around like a homeless then become gladiator?¡±

    Nara, unfazed by the precarious perch, pushed her own goggles up onto her forehead, the wind catching strands of her hair and whipping them around her face. She leaned down slightly, her expression a mix of amusement and weariness.

    ¡°its.. complicated¡± she then pause a bit, wry smile playing on her lips. ¡°Let¡¯s just say my family¡¯s¡­ portfolio has diversified. Consider this a¡­ field trip.¡±

    Tetsuya snorted. ¡°A field trip that involves dodging assassins and potentially starting a civil war? he sigh ¡°alright. but.. i hope its not turn into a dramatic family affairs. or i will leaving you¡±

    As they traveled through the region, they noticed that most of the populace were farmers and herders living simple lives. In each village, there stood a golden statue of a past messiah, a figure who had brought about a golden age for humanity for 40 years before passing away. Shortly after his death, World War III broke out, and the golden statues served as reminders of their former greatness.

    Finally, Nara arrived in the city of Medina, a place that was both holy and advanced, with strict clothing regulations enforced¡ªviolate them, and you risk deportation.

    ¡°Tsk. Why should I wear a veil?¡± Nara grumbled as she adjusted her new garb, eyeing herself in the mirror.

    One of the moral guards, a woman in a black veil, chimed in, ¡°Well, can you walk naked in the street?¡±

    ¡°Of course not!¡± Nara shot back, confused by the silly question. ¡°But in private, I can do whatever I want!¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Here, you can do what you want in private, but we value modesty in public,¡± the guard explained.

    Nara sighed. ¡°Yeah, I know. Wearing bling-bling on the street feels kinda... greedy, I guess.¡± nara remember her time on world adventure when still work with kassandra and panji. she know well people can kill by just jealously

    The moral guard nodded, her tone lightening slightly. ¡°Good. But just in case, you might need a reminder of where you belong, princess. You¡¯ll be going to a moral school for a refresher.¡±

    ¡°NOOOOOOOO!!!¡± Nara shouted, her exaggerated reply echoing through the room.

    later Nara emerges from the clothing dispensary, now clad in a full-length robe that feels like wearing a sleeping bag. "Ugh, I feel like a walking tent," she grumbles.

    A Moral Guard approaches, this one sporting a stylishly modified burqa with built-in air conditioning and a small drone that hovers above her head, scanning for fashion faux pas.

    "Greetings, citizen. Routine attire inspection," the Guard says politely. The drone zooms in on Nara''s robe. "Interesting¡­ vintage pre-Collapse design. However," the Guard adds, tapping a small control panel on her wrist, "current Caliphate fashion dictates a minimum of three decorative tassels and reflective piping for nighttime visibility. Please proceed to the nearest modification station."

    Nara spots a nearby stall with a sign that reads "Tassels ''n'' Things: Your One-Stop Modesty Shop." A wizened old man with a pair of goggles perched on his forehead gestures her over. "Need some bling for your burqa, sweetie? Got just the thing ¨C glow-in-the-dark tassels, self-adjusting hemlines, even a built-in beverage cooler!"

    Nara sighs. This was going to be a long day.

    "When Nara returned from ¡°school¡±, her cousin Bima greeted her. He was an Asian man with a long ponytail and a wide grin.

    ''Long time no see, Nara,'' Bima said. ''Finally ready to settle down? Get married, have kids, instead of wandering around?''

    Nara pouted, remaining silent.

    Bima chuckled. ''Never mind. You''re lucky our grandfather isn''t mad at you.''

    Nara nodded in agreement.

    She then underwent a medical check-up. A scanning device surrounded her as she drifted off to sleep. Meanwhile, in another room, the doctor, a man in a white lab coat, adjusted his glasses and examined the scan results.

    ''It appears Nara''s body is augmented with bioengineering and mutations,'' he observed. ''She''s practically a supersoldier. Someone has implanted a data chip in her brain. She also has limb implants, enhancing her muscle strength for heavy labor. However, this isn''t natural. Ideally, no more than twelve implants should be used, as excessive augmentation can have long-term effects on her emotions.''

    Bima''s eyes narrowed. ''Back-alley doctor work? I''ll smash his head in.''

    The doctor tapped his pen against his lips. ''Highly unlikely. Even the most amateur implant merchants know the risks of over-augmentation.''

    Bima scowled, studying the X-ray image of the data chip in Nara''s brain. ''Let''s find out who did this.''

    Later, Nara underwent brain surgery to remove the data chip while she remained unconscious.

    Bima held the extracted chip in his hand, then inserted it into a VR helmet. ''Alright,'' he muttered, ''let''s see what happened to her past.''

    And with that, Bima was transported into Nara''s childhood."

    Bartok officer of scarlet moon mercenary ground in eastern wasteland, attempted to explain coordinates to a young recruit. Beside him, his seven-year-old daughter, Nara, mimicked the swing of an imaginary weapon. "Papa, watch this!" she shouted, launching into a mock charge, her stick held like a spear. Bartok watched, a fond smile playing on his lips.

    Later, looking at an old photo of her parents, Nara asked, "Papa, Mama... why are we always moving? Why can''t we stay together?"

    Bartok knelt beside her. "Because of my duty, my little warrior. But no matter where we are, you''ll always be my brave Nara."

    Nara pouted. "But Papa, I miss you. I miss being your little ammo carrier."

    Bartok chuckled. "And I miss your tiny footsteps chasing after the shells. But remember, you''re strong and smart, just like your Mama. Maybe one day you''ll write stories about us, not fight them."

    Uter, the man with the steel mask, surveyed the artillery training ground from a distance. Beside him, Oboro, the man with the anti-material rifle, remained silent.

    "That man¡­ that corpse¡­" Uter muttered, a grim look etched on his masked face. "I still can''t forget his face. The officers¡­ they always held those lavish banquets at the bar. And that''s when we strike."

    Oboro nodded behind his mask. "Understood."

    "Finally," Uter breathed, a hint of anticipation in his voice. "The long-awaited moment is coming¡­"

    The Rusty Flagon was buzzing. "Congrats, Bartok!" a dwarf boomed, clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. "Heard you''re getting shipped closer to the front. No more of my ''special'' brews, eh?"

    Bartok grinned, rubbing his shoulder. "Look on the bright side, Borin. At least I won''t have to hear about how we''re marching on Europe with the Khaganate to crush those neo-nazis every five minutes."

    "Hey! It''s a worthy cause!" Borin protested, but his grin betrayed him. "Though... it is gonna be a long march."

    A few hours later, the place was winding down. A couple of drunk officers stumbled towards the bathroom, only to find the door locked. "Someone''s been in there for ages," one grumbled, banging on the door. "Hey! You gonna live in there?" Receiving no answer, he shrugged. "Forget it. Let''s just go outside."

    As they stepped out into the night, two quick bursts of silenced gunfire ended their conversation. Inside, the bar suddenly went quiet. A figure in a dark cloak, Uter, emerged from the bathroom ¨C finally. He moved with a predatory stillness, drawing a wickedly curved blade.

    Outside, Oboro''s voice crackled through Uter''s earpiece. "Perimeter secure. Inside targets are yours."

    Uter stepped into the bar, the remaining patrons ¨C mostly off-duty officers ¨C staring at him in stunned silence. One officer, his hand shaking, pointed a pistol. "Stay back!"

    Uter didn''t break stride. A swift, almost casual flick of his wrist, and the officer slumped to the floor. The bar erupted. Gunfire flashed, tables overturned. Bartok and Borin dove for cover behind a sturdy oak table.

    "Secret passage," Borin hissed, already feeling around for the hidden release. "Come on!"

    Uter, a whirlwind of deadly motion, continued his assault. Officers scrambled for cover, some attempting to flee through the windows, only to be met with Oboro''s deadly aim.

    The carnage subsided, leaving Uter standing alone in the blood-soaked bar.

    "I didn''t find him¡­ I didn''t find him¡­" Uter muttered, his voice a low growl. "AAAAAAAAAHHHH!" He slammed a fist on the bar, shattering a bottle.

    "Impossible," Oboro''s voice echoed through the earpiece. "He''s still there."

    "Wait¡­ I know where he is¡­" Uter growled, his rage barely contained.

    They scrambled through the narrow passage as more shots rang out. When they emerged into the back alley, Scarlet Moon soldiers were already converging on the bar. "Captain Bartok!" a lieutenant exclaimed. "You alright?"

    Bartok dusted himself off. "Yeah, just a little¡­ lively in there." He glanced back at the bar, a grim look on his face. "Looks like someone didn''t appreciate the party."

    Later, near the training ground, a group of mercenaries relaxed by a crackling fire.

    "Hey, Cung," one of them said to a young girl playing nearby. "Time for bed, little one."

    "Shut up," Nara grumbled, kicking him playfully. "I''m waiting for Papa."

    "Oh, the princess needs a hug to sleep, huh?" the mercenary chuckled.

    Nara, unimpressed, stomped towards her tent.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    From the shadows, Uter and Oboro observed the scene.

    "Kill them all," Uter commanded, his voice devoid of emotion. "No exceptions."

    Oboro lowered his binoculars, a flicker of unease in his eyes. "Kill the children too? That wasn''t part of the agreement."

    Uter, his face obscured by the remaining half of his mask, turned to Oboro. He removed the mask, revealing a horrifying visage ¨C half of his face was a grotesque mask of scarred flesh, and his right arm was replaced with a chillingly efficient blade.

    "Not just the officers," Uter rasped. "He destroyed Reich last army group. He ruined my life. He has to pay."

    Oboro stared at Uter, a chilling realization dawning on him. "So, you''re doing this for personal revenge?"

    "Not just revenge," Uter snarled. "He destroyed everything. He has to pay."

    "I understand," Oboro said, his voice flat. "But killing children¡­ that''s not in my contract."

    "Just the guards," Uter said, his voice deceptively calm. "Then you can collect your payment."

    Oboro sighed. "Fine. Job''s a job."

    Inside the tent, Nara snuggled into her pillow, a faint whimper escaping her lips. "Papa¡­ why is it taking so long?"

    Then, the screams began.

    Uter, a silent predator, moved towards the tent, a chilling smile playing on his lips. "Jackpot¡­"

    The next morning, Bartok found his guard slumped outside his quarters, a dark stain spreading across his uniform. He burst into the tent, his heart pounding. A single note lay on Nara''s cot: I have your little princess.

    Two days later, on the steppe, two women rode a motorcycle across the open plains.

    "Time for a break," Shasha said, glancing at her companion.

    Nara''s mother nodded, pulling over. They dismounted and started a small fire. "Need to check in," she said, pulling out her comm device.

    Shasha leaned against the bike. "Hurry it up."

    Nara''s mother climbed onto Shasha''s shoulders, trying to get a better signal. The comm crackled to life, then immediately started ringing insistently. "Whoa!" she exclaimed, nearly losing her balance. "Sixty-nine missed calls?"

    Meanwhile, in the desert, Hejaz sat beside his elaborately customized motorcycle, a figure resembling a secretary standing nearby.

    "Sir, we have news," the secretary said. "Your granddaughter, Nara, has been taken."

    Hejaz removed his goggles, his eyes narrowing. "What?"

    Later that day, in a command tent, Hejaz''s voice boomed. "Bartok is a fool. This is my operation now. I want commandos deployed. Find my granddaughter. Now."

    Back at Bartok''s temporary house, a group of men and women in black cloaks met with him.

    "My name is Laila Amara," a woman in black said, her voice cool. "I lead Hornet, the special commandos. Your father-in-law, Mr. Hejaz, ordered me here. Show me Nara''s last location."

    Bartok, speechless, could only nod and lead them to the tent.

    Laila removed her black glasses, revealing eyes that glowed red. "This is an infrared implant," she explained. "With this, I can see traces of her kidnapper." She stepped outside the tent, gazing intently at the distant valley. "Any signs? When was she kidnapped?"

    "Two days ago," Bartok replied, his voice trembling. "At night."

    Laila glared at him. "Why did you just say this morning?"

    "It''s my wife''s fault," Bartok mumbled. "She just checked her phone this morning."

    Laila sighed. "This will be difficult. The footprints are probably gone. Give me a map of this place, and don''t interfere."

    In a hidden cave near the valley, Uter laid the unconscious Nara on a table. "Okay, Bartok," he muttered. "If I can''t get your head, I''ll destroy your child." He pulled a small box of implant chips from his pocket, a chilling grin spreading across his face. He selected a chip at random.

    Midday found the Hornet team approaching the cave.

    "Ma''am, the cave is secure, and there are signs of movement inside," reported Hornet1.

    Laila nodded. "Hafsa, Rustam, guard the entrance. The rest of you, go in."

    The commandos moved cautiously into the cave, weapons raised. Finally, they reached Nara''s room.

    "We found the VIP," Hornet1 reported.

    Laila scanned the room. "No traps. Good." She noticed Nara lying on the table, an infusion attached to her arm. "Look at this," she said, picking up an implant chip near the table. "This poor girl..." She examined a small scar on the back of Nara''s head.

    "Should we do something?" Hornet2 asked.

    "Our mission is to bring the VIP to Mr. Hejaz, dead or alive," Laila said. "Nothing else."

    The Hornet team began their return journey, carrying Nara carefully.

    "Captain! They''re back with Nara!" a mercenary shouted.

    "What!" Bartok exclaimed, his heart pounding. "Where are they now?"

    "They''re already at the airport, Captain!"

    "Bartok slammed on the jeep''s gas pedal, racing towards the military airport. The gate guard, oblivious to the urgency, slowly opened the barrier. But Bartok didn''t wait. He plowed through the gate, roaring, "Hey! Where are you going? Give me back my daughter! You won''t take her from me!"

    Inside, Laila spotted him through the plane window. "Hurry!" she cried, her eyes wide.

    The plane began its takeoff roll. Bartok, in a desperate pursuit, sped alongside, yelling, "Hey! Stop it¡­ Nara!"

    Laila laughed uncontrollably, a mixture of fear and exhilaration. The plane lifted off, leaving Bartok in its dust.

    Suddenly, a motorcycle roared onto the scene. "Awesom," the rider, Panji, grinned, his face obscured by a red shade. He braked sharply, leveling his rocket launcher at the plane. With a deafening boom, the rocket struck the aircraft, sending it careening off the runway.

    Bartok skidded to a stop near Panji. "You idiot fool! You killed my daughter!"

    Panji simply lowered his shades and grinned. "You''re welcome."

    Laila, clutching her injured head. while holding nara,she stumbled out of the wreckage.with some hornet survive. Panji and Bartok exchanged a grim look. "Mount up!" Bartok barked.

    Panji hopped onto the jeep, his machine gun chattering. "Lighten up!" he yelled as a swarm of hornets descended. Bartok, riddled with bullets, continued to drive, crashing into a disabled aircraft.

    "You okay, man?" Panji asked.

    Bartok coughed up blood. "Do you think I''m fine?" he rasped, a grim smile playing on his lips. He stumbled out of the jeep and grabbed Panji''s shirt. "Listen, give me that," he demanded.

    Panji shook his head. "No¡­ you''ll die. You need a doctor."

    "Just give it to me, damn it! They''ll take my only love in this world!" Bartok roared.

    Panji sighed and pulled a syringe of adrenaline from his bag. "Just¡­ promise me you won''t do anything crazy."

    Bartok injected himself, the adrenaline surging through his veins. He could stand again.

    Meanwhile, Laila, carrying the unconscious Nara, stumbled across the desert, while  by two hornets cover her back. Bartok, emerging from behind a boulder, opened fire. The hornets retaliated, but Panji flanked them, neutralizing the threat with a flurry of bullets.

    Panji approached Laila, raising his gun to finish her. But then he saw Nara looking at him, her eyes is half lidded. aceppting her fate. panji looked at Laila, her veil slipping, revealing a face etched with terror. A pang of sympathy struck him. He knew they were just following orders. With a heavy sigh, he threw guns away from her, turning to leave.

    As he walked toward the boulder where Bartok had taken cover, he saw him slumped against it, bleeding out. Bartok mumbled something Panji couldn''t quite make out, his voice weak and fading. Nara, half-conscious, witnessed the scene, her unfocused gaze fixed on her dying father. In his final moments, Bartok¡¯s eyes closed, his breathing ceasing.

    Back in Medina, Bima removed the VR helmet, a heavy sigh escaping him. He glanced at Nara, still sleeping peacefully. He didn''t know if she''d experienced the fragmented horrors he¡¯d just witnessed, and he decided to keep it that way. He¡¯d simply tell her the doctors had removed a dangerous implant, but that the beneficial ones were still in place. No need to burden her with the ghosts of her past.

    That night, Bima relayed the bare facts to Hejaz, omitting the more gruesome details. He spoke of the implants, the kidnapping, the desperate fight. Hejaz listened in grim silence, his face etched with a mixture of grief and fury. When Bima finished, the old man sat in contemplative silence for a long moment. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but firm. "She is my granddaughter. A princess of the Hejaz. She will be welcomed as such."

    months later, November 2405. The Hejaz Caliphate was embroiled in a massive rebellion in Mesopotamia, led by Rashid, the Caliph''s own nephew.

    Rashid had transformed Baghdad into a floating city, a marvel of defiance bobbing atop the flooded plains, with a port connecting to the Persian Gulf. 80 years ago after the sea rising. they make this structure. The Hejaz army had to tread carefully, aiming to capture the city without turning it into a war-torn wreck.

    Nara, upon hearing the news, felt a surge of fury. ¡°Tsk... these rebels share the same ideology as my grandfather¡¯s caliphate. I must help them!¡±

    Hejaz, on the other hand, was having none of it. ¡°The rebels must be eliminated immediately! How dare they attack our Caliphate? They¡¯re not loyal to God, only to their own interests We must crush the!¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re rebelling against tyranny!¡± Nara shot back, gripping her bat tightly. ¡°They want a better world, just like I do!¡±

    Hejaz scoffed. ¡°Their way leads to chaos! What will they achieve by overthrowing us? Only bloodshed! We are true believers, and I believe in hope and redemption¡ªif we unite under one goal¡±

    Nara¡¯s rage boiled over. ¡°You just want to control them! You¡¯re using religion to enslave your subjects! You¡¯re the tyrant here!¡±

    Hejaz retorted, ¡°Is that how you see my rule? My authority is divinely ordained! If they resist, they¡¯re rebelling against God¡¯s will! I will show no mercy¡±

    Nara felt torn. Should she support the rebels, who might just be puppets of the Red Nation, or back her grandfather to help the Emerald League against the impending invasion? she then just mubbling a word¡°tyrant¡±

    Hejaz, sensing the shift, lamented, ¡°So you all think I¡¯m a tyrant? I want to guide you to righteousness! If you resist, you¡¯ll face God¡¯s wrath¡±

    Nara¡¯s nephew, Bima, stepped in. ¡°Enough, Nara! We don¡¯t need your criticism right now. We¡¯re at war; there¡¯s no perfect nation!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Nara conceded, her focus shifting. ¡°It¡¯s war. My criticism isn¡¯t necessary, and for now, I¡¯m on your side, Bima!¡±

    Nara was in a whirlwind of confusion. The rebel cause seemed noble, and she desperately wanted to help. But doubts crept in¡ªwas Rashid really any different from the Red Nation, merely a puppet in a different play? Her mind was a battlefield, and it was hard to focus on the war at hand.

    Meanwhile, Laila lurked in the shadows, her black veil hiding everything but her piercing red eyes. A glowing implant adorned her forehead, and a robotic arm jutted from her back, giving her an air of both menace and intrigue. ¡°Sorry to make you see me, but here I am,¡± she said, lowering her head.

    later in operation room, One of the leaders of the Hornet group laila,

    briefed the team. ¡°The Elite Hornet of the Black Nation has landed on the border with the new Caliphate. Our mission? Take out Rashid and watch the rebellion crumble like a house of cards.¡±

    Nara¡¯s heart raced at the news. She approached the Hornet leader, her mind racing. ¡°What if we eliminate Rashid? Can we negotiate with the rebels? They don¡¯t seem like Red Nation puppets; they seem genuine.¡±

    The Hornet leader raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°That¡¯s the plan. First, we take out Rashid, then we negotiate with the rebels who have pure intentions. We¡¯ll unite against the Red Nation.¡±

    Nara¡¯s anger shifted to relief. ¡°So we¡¯re on the same page. But what if the rebels refuse to be our puppets? What if they want independence?¡±

    The Hornet leader¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°We must respect their independence, but as long as they¡¯re safe and stable, it¡¯s manageable. We can make it work.¡±

    Nara pondered this. ¡°But what if they rebel again after we get rid of Rashid? How do we stop them?¡±

    ¡°It depends on public support,¡± the Hornet leader replied. ¡°If the people back us, the rebels can¡¯t rise. If they do, we can use propaganda¡ªpaint the rebels as Red Nation puppets or stage a false flag attack. With public opinion on our side, we can handle the rebel leader.¡±

    Nara was taken aback by the Hornet leader¡¯s cold efficiency. ¡°That¡¯s... surprisingly effective,¡± she admitted, her heart racing. ¡°But why do you fight against the Red Nation?¡±

    Laila¡¯s gaze softened. ¡°I fight for justice for those oppressed by the Red Nation.¡±

    Nara felt a connection. ¡°Justice for the oppressed... I see. You and I aren¡¯t so different after all.¡±

    Laila nodded, understanding the shared purpose. ¡°We both want peace and happiness for those who suffer. The Red Nation is the root of our problems.¡±

    In that moment, Nara felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps, together, they could forge a path toward a better future.

    In the twilight of a war-torn city, the air crackled with tension as skirmishes erupted across the labyrinthine flyover highways. Hejaz shock troops clashed with Rashid''s agile rebels in a deadly game of cat and mouse, the intricate network of elevated roads transforming into a chaotic battleground. Laser fire painted streaks across the sky, illuminating the chaos below.

    The Hornet elite squad, a formidable force, was split into seven platoons, each launching a coordinated assault on Rashid''s strongholds. The sudden attacks from multiple fronts overwhelmed Rashid''s forces, plunging them into disarray. In a matter of moments, the Hornet elite squad secured Rashid''s stronghold in the city center, their mission clear: capture the elusive leader.

    As Nara and the Hornet leader approached Rashid''s office, they could feel the weight of the moment. Inside, Rashid was hiding, his nerves fraying as he realized the elite squad was closing in. Grabbing his gun, he pointed it at the intruders, his hands trembling.

    ¡°Please put down your gun, Rashid! We¡¯re here to talk, not to fight,¡± Nara urged, her voice soft yet firm, echoing the Hornet leader''s calm demeanor.

    But the Hornet elite squad advanced, weapons drawn, leaving no room for kindness toward a tyrant like him. The Hornet leader stepped forward, her gaze piercing. ¡°You must surrender! You are the main cause of the chaos in this region. If you surrender, no harm will come to you. Resist, and you will die here.¡±

    Rashid, desperate and cornered, quick-drew his pistol from the desk. The Hornet elite squad prepared to fire, but the Hornet leader raised her hand, commanding, ¡°Don¡¯t shoot! Let me handle this.¡± She approached Rashid, her voice steady. ¡°Rashid, I need to know one thing.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± he spat, leaning against the glass window, his bravado faltering.

    ¡°Why do you want to rebel against Hejaz? Is there a real reason?¡± she pressed, her tone serious.

    ¡°I believe the world should unite under one banner,¡± Rashid declared, his eyes wild. ¡°Look at the sky, Laila. How long will we remain stuck on this dirt sphere, fighting each other instead of exploring space? Zion promised me a spaceship, and yet humanity continues to strife.¡±

    The Hornet leader regarded him with a sharp glance. ¡°Your reason is admirable, but naive. How can you unite people with their own cultures, ideas, and religions? You can¡¯t even solve the war in your own backyard. If you want to explore space, try establishing a peaceful world first. And why would you trust the Red Nation for a spaceship?¡±

    ¡°Because they are the only nation with the technology to do it! Our nation is still stuck in the Stone Age!¡± Rashid shot back, frustration evident in his voice.

    Laila smirked, her expression laced with sarcasm. ¡°And you trust the Red Nation because of their technology? Do you think their promises are genuine? They won¡¯t help anyone without getting something in return¡ªpower. You¡¯re just a pawn for them.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re all pawns for someone,¡± Rashid retorted defiantly.

    ¡°True,¡± Laila replied, a cruel smile forming. ¡°But there¡¯s a difference. They use pawns to gain power and discard them without remorse. I use pawns to overthrow the powerful. That difference will lead us to victory. Don¡¯t be a useless pawn; become the king piece we need. Join us.¡±

    ¡°Do you think they will forgive me?¡± Rashid asked, doubt creeping into his voice.

    ¡°We don¡¯t ask for forgiveness,¡± Laila said, her eyes cold. ¡°We ask for your surrender. We won¡¯t kill you; we just want to arrest you for justice. But if you choose to fight until the end, you will die. Choose wisely.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a man,¡± Rashid declared, raising his gun once more.

    In a flash, Laila stepped aside, evading the bullet. ¡°Then you will die like a man,¡± she shot back, her gun trained on him, the Hornet elite squad following suit.

    Rashid fired multiple rounds, the bullets piercing his own body, cracking the glass behind him. Yet, against all odds, he stood firm. ¡°Is that all you¡¯ve got?¡± he taunted, continuing to shoot.

    Rashid, bleeding but defiant, aimed his pistol again. "At least I''m trying!"

    Laila chuckled. "You''re persistent, I''ll give you that. Almost makes me feel bad." She fired a quick series of shots, carefully avoiding vital organs. Rashid dropped to his knees. "Almost."

    She approached him, kicking his discarded pistol away. "Med pod, now," she instructed the Hornets as they moved in. "And tell the doc to work his magic. I need this guy in talking shape. Preferably before he tries to shoot me again."

 Chapter 101 The Shifting Stars

    A week after the fighting, Rashid lay in a private room, the silence broken only by the low hum of a bio-regeneration. The walls were a soothing shade of pale green, and filtered sunlight streamed through a reinforced window, overlooking a meticulously maintained hydroponic garden of herb plants.

    Laila entered, her presence a study in controlled calm. The contrast with the recent chaos was stark. "How are you feeling, Rashid?" she asked, her voice soft.

    He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The weight of failure pressed on him, a physical ache.

    Laila sat beside the bed. The shift in her posture, a slight tilt of her head, suggested a change in the conversation''s direction. "A question, if you''re up to it."

    Rashid¡¯s eyes flickered to her, a flicker of curiosity battling with exhaustion. He gave a barely perceptible nod.

    "Why the gun, Rashid?" Laila''s voice remained steady, but a subtle edge crept in. "Against me? Did you truly think you stood a chance?"

    "We had to try," Rashid whispered, his voice hoarse. His eyes didn''t meet hers, a hint of shame in his averted gaze.

    A faint smile touched Laila''s lips. It wasn''t a smile of amusement. "Courage. Or perhaps¡­ desperation." She paused, letting the silence hang in the air. "There''s one more thing I need to understand."

    Rashid closed his eyes briefly, a subtle tightening of his jaw betraying his inner tension.

    "You fought a losing battle against the Hejaz army. You knew the odds. You knew Zion''s promises were¡­ hollow." Laila''s gaze held his, unwavering. "So why?"

    "Zion said¡­ a month," Rashid murmured, a faint tremor in his voice. He looked at her then, a desperate plea in his eyes, as if searching for confirmation, for a lifeline. "If we held for a month, his forces would come from the east."

    Laila''s smile this time was tinged with pity. "A month. Or perhaps¡­ another week? It¡¯s easy to believe what you want to believe, isn''t it? Especially when someone offers you a way out. A chance at glory. But some promises¡­ are designed to be broken." Her eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of steel entering her voice. The unspoken implication was clear: Zion had used him.

    Rashid sighed heavily, the weight of her words sinking in. ¡°War is an ugly gambit.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Laila continued, her voice firm. ¡°This world is ugly, and war is merely a game of sacrifice for those who crave power. A brave soul like you is used as a pawn to further their ambitions. It¡¯s like a really bad board game, except instead of losing plastic soldiers, you lose actual people. So I wonder, if you know this, why not stop playing before someone yells ''checkmate'' and it¡¯s not you?¡±

    After a long pause, Rashid finally spoke, ¡°Yes¡­¡±

    A smile broke across Laila¡¯s face, her eyes shining with determination. ¡°So, will you quit and join us or not? I assure you, there is no trap in my words. I genuinely want you to join the Black Nation.¡±

    ¡°Reconciliation?¡± Rashid¡¯s voice trembled. ¡°There is so much blood that has been spilled already. How can I face the parents of those whose sons have died for me? How can I return to the Caliphate?¡±

    ¡°May I speak honestly with you?¡± Laila asked gently.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Rashid replied, his curiosity piqued.

    ¡°Can I tell you a secret?¡± she leaned closer, her voice softening.

    He nodded, intrigued.

    ¡°You might think it¡¯s hard to face the parents of your fallen comrades, that they will hate you for betraying the people they care for. But in reality, they will forgive you. They love you and will understand that you have a great vision. You fight for justice and peace,¡± Laila explained, her tone soothing.

    Rashid closed his eyes, contemplating her words.

    ¡°Please, don¡¯t make any more sacrifices. If you join us, there will be peace, and no more senseless war. We fight to save humanity. We both want the same thing: justice for this world, freedom, and equality for every race and gender. So, please join us for a better world, for the peace of the future,¡± Laila urged.

    ¡°Only for one request,¡± Rashid said, his voice steady. ¡°Grant us autonomy and let me pursue my own space exploration projects.¡±

    Laila considered his request, searching for a compromise. ¡°We will allow you autonomy, and you can follow your space exploration projects as long as they benefit the Black Nation. But before we conclude our discussion, do you have any questions?¡±

    Rashid shook his head. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Then consider yourself a part of the Black Nation from this moment on. I welcome you to our team,¡± Laila declared, her voice filled with conviction. ¡°We have much waiting for you, so get some rest and prepare for work. Remember, you are no longer a pawn but a knight fighting for justice.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    With that, a new chapter began for Rashid, one filled with hope and the promise of a better future.

    In the dimly lit war room, Laila met with Nara, the tension palpable in the air. Nara''s brow furrowed as she confronted Laila, her voice laced with frustration. ¡°Why did you speak to Rashid that way? If we win the battle, why do you need to treat him with such care?¡±

    Laila, maintaining a calm demeanor, replied softly, her eyes reflecting a hint of innocence. ¡°He¡¯s just a pawn, but a very brave one. He almost killed me, you know. I think we should spare him. However, we can¡¯t let him join the Caliphate again. I made a deal with him¡ªhe can continue his space exploration as long as he joins us. If we win, we can use his expertise to build a spaceship.

    laila eyes turn to distant ¡°After all, space is the battlefield of the future. Besides, have you seen the parking situation down here? It¡¯s a nightmare.¡±

    Later, in the Hejaz office, the atmosphere shifted as news broke that Rashid had been captured. He demanded an autonomous government while still remaining a vassal of the Caliphate. Hejaz leaned back in his chair, contemplating the implications. ¡°So, this is your offer? You want to live in peace, but still under my command? Hmm. Very well, I will agree to your autonomous government, but know this: you are still under my rule, only observed.¡±

    Wazir placed a report on Hejaz''s desk. "Your Excellency."

    Hejaz scanned it, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "Red Nation. Emerald League first, then us. Predictable." He tossed the report back onto the desk. "So, the True Horde has extended an invitation."

    Wazir nodded. "Crescent Alliance. Golden Caravan mediating, as you requested."

    Hejaz raised an eyebrow. "Alam, is it? Interesting. And who else has signed on for this little party?"

    Wazir listed the factions, ending with, "...and a few mercenary companies. The usual rabble."

    Hejaz leaned back, steepling his fingers. "So, everyone''s eager to carve up the Red Nation. If we sit this one out, we''ll be next on the menu." He paused, a glint in his eye. "An opportunity, indeed."

    Nara, who had been listening quietly, spoke up. "This Alam¡­ is he up to the task?"

    Hejaz shrugged. "The Golden Caravan seems to think so. And that''s good enough for now."

    Nara¡¯s mind raced with questions. ¡°Can we really trust Alam and the True Horde? What if they¡¯re just puppets of the Red Nation, or if Alam has his own agenda?¡±

    Hejaz sighed, ¡°There are indeed many secrets surrounding Alam and the True Horde. His true intentions are still unknown, but there must be a reason why the Golden Caravan trusts him so much. Perhaps he is a puppet, a Trojan horse for the Red Nation¡ªwho knows?¡±

    Nara turned to Hejaz, determination in her eyes. ¡°I want to find out more about Alam and the True Horde. We must be careful with them.¡±

    Hejaz nodded in agreement. ¡°Yes, we must tread carefully. We don¡¯t want to fall into their trap if they are indeed puppets of the Red Nation. Gathering information about Alam and the True Horde is crucial.¡±

    Later, as Nara and Wazir walked down the hall from the throne room, Nara''s time with Zion came back to her. An idea sparked.

    "What if we dug up some dirt on Alam?" she suggested, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You know, just in case things go south."

    Wazir stopped, turning to her. "What good would that do?"

    Nara grinned. "Blackmail, Wazir. A little insurance policy."

    Wazir closed his eyes briefly, then shook his head. "No, Nara. My grandfather built this nation on honesty. He started as a blacksmith, earned his reputation through hard work. We don''t operate like that."

    "But this is different," Nara protested. "It''s geopolitics¡ª"

    "It''s still tajjasus," Wazir interrupted gently.

    Nara frowned. "Tajjasus?"

    "Searching for someone''s past misdeeds for selfish gain," Wazir explained. "It''s¡­dishonorable. Our ancestors were trapped in a cycle of it before the Messiah came. Endless wars, the truth buried in the sand." He paused, a weary look in his eyes. "We fight with faith, Nara. We meet our enemies on the battlefield, not in the shadows."

    Nara stifled a yawn. "Okay, okay, I get it. We''re the good guys. We don''t stoop to their level."

    Wazir nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Exactly."

    They continued down the hall, the weight of their decisions settling upon them. The game of alliances was a dangerous one, but they would play it their way.

    As late November 2405 approached, Alam stood at the edge of the battlefield, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the Red Nation was mobilizing its forces toward the Emerald League and the Shangri-La Confederacy. The air was thick with tension, a palpable sense of impending conflict hanging over the land. The True Horde, currently in a fragile truce with the Red Nation, was acutely aware of the signs indicating that an all-out war was on the horizon.

    ¡°Hohooh... my hand feels both cold and hot,¡± Alam mused,

    ¡°Sir, it¡¯s understandable to feel conflicted,¡± Fang interjected, her voice steady. ¡°The prospect of full-scale war is unsettling. We must remain clear-headed and prepared for any eventuality, while also striving to prevent the escalation of tensions.¡±

    Alam nodded, his mind racing with strategies. ¡°Yes, we will attack their Siberian base. It¡¯s their own fault for overstretching their borders.¡±

    Fang considered this, her brow furrowing slightly. ¡°Attacking the Red Nation''s Siberian base could be risky, but it might also be effective. They¡¯ve left their flanks vulnerable. A coordinated assault could force them to split their forces, stretching their resources thin. It¡¯s bold, but it could be dangerous.¡±

    Alam closed his eyes, envisioning the battlefield. ¡°I¡¯m in the mood for Winter War 2.0... this one will be the last.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, sir,¡± Fang replied, her tone serious. ¡°The situation mirrors the Winter War. The Red Nation is vulnerable, and now is the time to strike hard and fast. The outcome of our next operation will determine the balance of power in the region.¡±

    As they walked, Alam approached a new monument honoring the unnamed soldiers who had fallen in the previous year¡¯s battles. The statue, a fist raised to the sky, bore scars and bandages, a testament to the sacrifices made.

    ¡°This monument is powerful,¡± Fang remarked, following closely behind. ¡°It honors the contributions of those who fought bravely for the True Horde. It serves as a reminder of the sacrifices necessary for the greater good of our empire.¡±

    ¡°Mhm... I wonder if my soldiers believe in an afterlife,¡± Alam pondered aloud.

    Fang paused, reflecting on his words. ¡°That¡¯s a profound question, sir. Some may believe in an afterlife, while others may not. Regardless, the legacy of our fallen comrades will live on in the memories of their loved ones and in the accomplishments of the True Horde. Their bravery and dedication have paved the way for our empire.¡±

    ¡°Indeed. Go pray for them in your own way, even if you¡¯re an atheist. We can all appreciate our current lives because of their sacrifices,¡± Alam encouraged.

    Fang knelt before the statue, closing her eyes in contemplation. After several moments of silence, she rose, a serene expression on her face. ¡°I feel a sense of peace, sir. It¡¯s as if the fallen soldiers are watching over us, guiding and protecting us. I felt a connection with them, and I believe they appreciate our efforts to honor their sacrifice.¡±

    ¡°Good. In my belief, souls never vanish; energy is never gone. They simply transition to a different dimension,¡± Alam stated, his voice firm.

    ¡°I share that belief, sir. The soul is energy, and energy is transformed rather than destroyed. The fallen soldiers are with us in spirit, guiding us with their wisdom and strength,¡± Fang affirmed.

    ¡°Excellent. Now, I want dinner. I¡¯m in the mood for noodles,¡± Alam declared, shifting the conversation.

    Fang blinked, slightly taken aback by the sudden change in topic. ¡°Yes, sir. I will arrange for some noodles to be prepared promptly.¡±

    Alam chuckled, ¡°Ah, it¡¯s just hard to make you chuckle. But never mind; I appreciate you for who you are.¡±

    Fang blushed slightly, her loyalty evident. ¡°I am glad you appreciate me, sir. It is my duty and privilege to serve you and the True Horde. My loyalty is unbreakable, and I will not let you down, no matter what may come.¡±

    ¡°thanks¡± alam pat her shoulder. and squish it a bit. He turned to the north, his gaze sweeping across the dark horizon. that land¡­ everyone wants a piece.. he think for himself. even if he able to recapture it. how long he  can hold it? A week? A month? Until the next hungry warlord comes knocking?. Well, we''ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Noodles first.

 Chapter 102 Dragon Slayer

    Zion returned to Central Asia, only to be greeted by a plague outbreak among his soldiers. They were riddled with PTSD and mental disorders, and he couldn''t believe his eyes. ¡°What is this? This can¡¯t be happening! All men should be gearing up for the big push next spring!¡± he bellowed, frustration boiling over.

    Meanwhile, one of Zion''s loyalists, Keith, decided to take matters into his own hands. He formed a new department called the ¡°New Vision Movement¡± and set out to every city in the newly conquered territories, including the old ones in North America. His mission? To burn any books related to mental health and sex. ¡°These topics are bad for soldier morale!¡± he declared, convinced that soldiers were just making excuses.

    ¡°This is a free nation! A free country!¡± Keith shouted, rallying the townsfolk. ¡°But you can¡¯t talk about religion, study, politics, race, or sexuality! Anything else is freedom of speech! You¡¯re free to discuss the optimal angle for stacking ration packs, or the proper way to polish your boots. That¡¯s the kind of intellectual discourse we encourage!¡±

    With that, he ordered a massive book burning in the town square, flames licking the sky as the old texts turned to ash. ¡°Out with the old, in with the new!¡± he proclaimed, as the new ideology of the Red Nation spread like wildfire, demanding everyone prepare for total war.

    Keith voice ringing out across the crowd. "These books preach weakness! They speak of self-doubt, of introspection! Such things have no place in a nation forged in the fires of war!" He gestured to a statue of Caesar. "Caesar demands strength! Caesar demands obedience! And Caesar demands victory!"

    The crowd, mostly silent, watched the flames rise. Some wore expressions of genuine belief, others of fear. The burnings served a dual purpose: eliminating "undesirable" ideas and reminding the population of the consequences of nonconformity. Any soldier caught showing signs of "weakness" ¨C anxiety, nightmares, even grief ¨C faced not sympathy, but re-education, or worse.

    At the Crescent Alliance base in Xian, Alam and Nkosi stood before a large monitor, strategizing for their upcoming offensive.

    ¡°I plan to attack Novosibirsk in early December. Are you with me?¡± Alam announced, determination etched across his face.

    ¡°Absolutely,¡± Nkosi replied, his eyes glinting with enthusiasm. ¡°Striking at the onset of winter gives us an edge. The cold will hinder the Red Nation''s response, and we can catch them off guard.¡±

    ¡°True, but they¡¯re well-fortified,¡± Alam cautioned, his brow furrowed. ¡°A tough battle awaits. If we succeed, we can isolate Zion¡¯s forces in Persia and Central Asia.¡±

    ¡°Exactly. Cutting off their forces would be a major victory. We need a solid plan to execute this effectively,¡± Nkosi agreed, nodding vigorously.

    As they reviewed the fortress layout on the monitor, Alam marveled at its unconventional hexagonal design, which allowed for mutual support among bases. ¡°Impressive work ethic on their part. They built this quickly,¡± he noted.

    ¡°Indeed. But we can exploit their defenses. I like your idea of redirecting our attacks to keep them guessing,¡± Nkosi replied, a grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°Right. The best defense is a good offense. We¡¯ll keep the pressure on them,¡± Alam said, his voice steady.

    ¡°How many troops and resources can we commit to this offensive?¡± Nkosi asked, his tone serious.

    ¡°We need to go all in. If we fail, we might not recover after winter,¡± Alam warned, the weight of the situation settling in.

    ¡°I understand the stakes. We¡¯ll mobilize everything we have to ensure victory,¡± Nkosi assured him.

    ¡°Good. I¡¯ll use every trick in the book. They¡¯ll regret stepping into our territory,¡± Alam said, fire igniting in his eyes.

    Later, at the training ground, Alam summoned his new generals. What started as a small group of seven had swelled to thirty-five, a testament to his growing command. He paced in front of them, observing their postures and expressions.

    ¡°Alright! One mind! One objective! One target! One soul! Repeat after me!¡± Alam commanded, his enthusiasm infectious.

    The generals echoed in unison, their voices booming. ¡°ONE MIND! ONE OBJECTIVE! ONE TARGET! ONE SOUL!¡±

    ¡°Good!¡± Alam declared, grabbing a machine gun. ¡°I know all of you have basic military knowledge, but we need a unified military doctrine. Since you come from different backgrounds, let¡¯s tailor our strategies. For example¡­¡± He pointed at a general sporting a furry hat. ¡°You must order your men to fight hit-and-run.¡±

    Then he turned to another, a stout general in a coat. ¡°You should prefer a Fabian strategy. We have different approaches in battle, but cohesion is key. Initiative is important, but in this war, cohesion is priority.¡±

    The generals nodded, absorbing his words. Alam was confident that they could achieve a unified doctrine, blending their unique skills into a formidable force.

    ¡°Now let¡¯s sit in a circle,¡± Alam instructed, positioning himself at the center with the machine gun raised. ¡°I ask you, besides killing the enemy, what else can this gun do?¡±

    The generals pondered for a moment before one spoke up. ¡°It can be used as a psychological weapon, striking fear into the enemy¡¯s heart. The sound of gunfire can demoralize them, creating chaos and increasing our chances of victory. It can also serve as a communication device, with different firing patterns signaling our units.¡±

    ¡°Very good!¡± Alam exclaimed, excitement bubbling in his voice. ¡°It keeps their heads down and discourages them from peeking out¡ªunless they''re stupid or brazenly brave! In this war, we¡¯re going offensive. Training sharpshooters takes time, and pouring them into battle is costly. We¡¯ll mix our tactical approach with detailed troop management because we might be in this for another year. We¡¯ll assign conscripts with light machine guns to provide suppressive fire while our trained sharpshooters take out their firing positions. Our military doctrine will utilize machine guns not just to kill, but to flush out enemy positions and suppress fire. I¡¯ve even designed a less powerful but cost-effective ammo for machine guns that will benefit us in the long run.¡±

    The generals nodded, impressed by Alam''s innovative thinking. ¡°I¡¯m not cruel enough to use young conscripts as mere bait¡ªmost of us are conscripts too,¡± he added with a chuckle. ¡°With balanced distribution of better armor for machine gunners and overhauling our machine gun teams, our approach will be solid. Flash out and fire¡ªFFF!¡±

    Fang spoke up, ¡°It¡¯s commendable that you¡¯re considering the safety of our young conscripts. Your doctrine ensures we minimize losses while maximizing the effectiveness of our machine gun teams.¡±

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    ¡°Exactly! Now, classic debate¡ªhow do we take down enemy strong positions? Our artillery lacks the punch against their armor and sentries. We¡¯ve learned this the hard way. We need new solutions,¡± Alam said, his tone serious.

    Fang nodded. ¡°Sir, may I make a suggestion?¡±

    ¡°Speak,¡± Alam replied.

    ¡°Instead of relying solely on artillery, what if we used unconventional methods? Infiltrators, sabotage, and psychological warfare could create disorder among their ranks, opening opportunities for us to attack. These methods require fewer resources and could be more effective.¡±

    ¡°Good opening, Fang,¡± Alam said, a spark of interest in his eyes. ¡°I propose a new tech that could change the battlefield forever. I call it the Dirty Launcher. It¡¯s similar to the mud launcher but contains bioluminescent material that generates intense heat without fire. It would make their positions uncomfortably hot, potentially overheating their weapons. Gunpowder could explode on contact with this... dirty substance.¡±

    Fang¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Whoa! That¡¯s revolutionary! Not only destructive but also unconventional. The heat could render their sentries and pillboxes useless. Plus, it¡¯s a cost-effective resource investment. I¡¯m in awe of your creativity, sir.¡±

    ¡°Watch this,¡± Alam said, placing a machine gun in an open field and leading the generals to a safe distance, all wearing safety goggles. He opened a crate containing a weapon resembling a Panzerfaust from WWII.

    The generals watched in awe as Alam aimed and fired. A bright green blast shot out, hitting the machine gun and disintegrating it in seconds. The generals stood speechless, their minds racing at the weapon¡¯s power.

    ¡°This is our military secret. Don¡¯t let even our allies know,¡± Alam instructed, his tone serious.

    Fang nodded eagerly. ¡°Yes, sir. I assure you, the secret of the Dirty Launcher will remain with us. We will use it to ensure our victory over the Red Nation.¡±

    Later, in the command center, a detailed holographic display of eight Zion bases in Novosibirsk filled the room with a ghostly glow. The base, nestled in the heart of Siberia, was a heavily fortified stronghold.

    ¡°Novosibirsk is indeed a heavily fortified stronghold,¡± Fang observed, his eyes scanning the visual. ¡°Imposing walls, reinforced with steel, encircle the base. The factory sprawl¡¯s gargantuan smokestacks belch steam into the sky, while freight trains snake through, unloading vital resources.¡±

    Alam nodded, adding, ¡°And the anti-aircraft batteries bristle with missiles, guarding their airspace. This is not an easy target.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Fang agreed. ¡°The command center is humming with activity. They have a well-organized command structure, and the underground network provides secret escape routes. Their armored trains patrol the railways.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s not forget their hexagonal layout,¡± Alam said, a smirk creeping onto his face. ¡°Each base can support the others. Someday, we might need to copy their tactics if we dig in.¡±

    ¡°Absolutely. Their unique construction allows for mutual support and resource transport,¡± Fang confirmed. ¡°We must study their placement carefully if we wish to attack successfully.¡±

    Alam leaned back in his chair, contemplating the formidable Zion base displayed on the monitor. ¡°Hmm¡­ do you find any weaknesses, Fang?¡± he asked, his brow furrowing with determination.

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Fang replied, his voice steady. ¡°I¡¯ve identified several vulnerabilities. First, their defense grid is heavily concentrated on airspace, which means we can utilize our ground forces to penetrate or outflank them during the attack. Second, their command center is centralized and vulnerable; targeting this area could cripple their battlefield control. Lastly, while their underground network provides protection and escape routes, it could also be exploited if we block or collapse it.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Alam mused, a grin forming on his lips. ¡°Ironically, their weaknesses are in the center. Normally, a fort¡¯s strong point is at its core, but they¡¯ve opted for an unorthodox layout. And yes, their underground network¡­ perhaps we can send a strike team to infiltrate. They picked the wrong foe¡­ heh.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± Fang nodded. ¡°The underground network is their Achilles'' heel. We can launch a combined assault with strike teams and ground forces to penetrate and attack their defenses. By sending the main force to target their command center and armored trains, we can break their backbone and cripple their defenses. This base is a worthy target for our next major offensive.¡±

    ¡°Good point,¡± Alam said, tapping his fingers on the desk. ¡°If you were the Zion commander here, what would you do to enhance this base?¡±

    Fang thought for a moment. ¡°I would reinforce the defense grid with additional anti-aircraft batteries, increase the number of armored trains for secure resource transport, and strengthen the underground network with more checkpoints and traps to deter infiltration. Finally, decentralizing the command center would make it less vulnerable to an attack.¡±

    Alam chuckled. ¡°Decentralized is the way to go. Adding too many tools can be costly. If I were Zion, I¡¯d enhance defenses in the underground tunnels and just place pillboxes and AA guns on the surface. Keep all the important stuff underground.¡±

    Fang nodded in agreement. ¡°That¡¯s a clever approach, sir. By bolstering the underground defenses, you reduce the vulnerability of the command center. The Zion have set up impressive bases, but they¡¯ve made mistakes. With our insights, we can exploit those weaknesses.¡±

    ¡°Exactly! War isn¡¯t just about stacking weapons; it¡¯s about management as well. So, my generals, who among you has fought a similar structure to the Zion¡¯s?¡± Alam¡¯s gaze swept across the room.

    Some generals exchanged glances, unsure, until one stepped forward. ¡°Sir! I fought against a similar structure during my previous war against the Zion. I led an elite strike force into their stronghold in Siberia, which had a layout like this base in Novosibirsk.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Alam raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°So they haven¡¯t improved anything? Interesting. Tell us your experience in attacking the base.¡±

    The brave general took a deep breath. ¡°I led a strike force of about 60 men into the Zion stronghold. We infiltrated their underground network through an old mine and ambushed their defenses in the tunnels. Using explosives, we broke through their defenses and engaged the Zion in close combat. It was fierce, but with our superior training, we managed to penetrate the stronghold.¡±

    ¡°And what was the outcome? Did you take the base?¡± Alam pressed.

    The general nodded. ¡°Yes, we managed to secure the base after intense fighting. Despite their defenses, we overcame them and pushed into the stronghold. The Zion fought hard, but in the end, our tactics prevailed. They retreated to higher ground, and we took control. However, the cost was high; we lost about one-fifth of our forces.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you said you saw the Zion up close?¡± Alam asked, leaning forward.

    ¡°Indeed, sir. I fought against them personally during the battle. I observed their uniforms, weapons, and armor firsthand. I even encountered one of their officers briefly.¡±

    ¡°Interesting! How did he escape?¡± Alam¡¯s curiosity was piqued.

    The general sighed. ¡°Unfortunately, the officer managed to escape amidst the chaos. We were focused on fighting their defense force and didn¡¯t anticipate his escape. He jumped out of one of the underground tunnels and rode away on a horse. We tried to chase him, but we were exhausted from battling the Zion. He was a skilled rider and disappeared into the night.¡±

    ¡°Ha! It sounds like a movie¡ªa dramatic escape on horseback!¡± Alam laughed. ¡°This is an important story you¡¯ve shared. We must secure their secret tunnels and mitigate any escape attempts.¡±

    The general bowed his head in agreement. ¡°Yes, sir. We can¡¯t let our opponents have such dramatic escapes. We need to focus our resources on the underground network to eliminate any possible escape routes.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Alam asked, looking at the brave general.

    The general hesitated for a moment. ¡°I am Xiaoyi, sir. I serve the Wanderer Group as one of the generals of the strike force.¡±

    ¡°Xiaoyi¡­ sorry for asking. I have a hard time remembering names quickly. So, Xiaoyi, I¡¯ll give you the task of forming a breach division unit.¡±

    Xiaoyi nodded with determination. ¡°Yes, sir. I will form a breach division immediately and train them for the next offensive. One question, sir¡ªwhat shall we call this breach division?¡±

    Alam paused, contemplating. ¡°Hmm¡­ I need a punchy name. How about¡­ Dragon Slayer?¡±

    Xiaoyi¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Dragon Slayer! Yes, that sounds fantastic, sir! It embodies our determination to break through enemy defenses like a dragon slayer defeating a dragon. I¡¯ll submit the proposal for naming our breach division the Dragon Slayer.¡±

    ¡°Excellent! The Dragon Slayer will be a key element in our campaign to take Novosibirsk. Are you ready for the duty, Xiaoyi?¡± Alam asked, leaning forward.

    ¡°Yes, sir! I¡¯m ready. I¡¯ll lead the Dragon Slayer division, ensuring we don¡¯t give the Zion another opportunity to escape. With the strength and wisdom of the Wanderer Group, we will take the Zion stronghold and bring victory to the True Horde!¡±

    Alam slammed his hand on the desk. ¡°Keep sharp! Keep wits! Keep clear! We, the True Horde, will cut the Zion in half! For victory and our people!¡± He drew his sword into the air.

    Xiaoyi and the other generals raised their swords, shouting in unison, ¡°Long live the Wanderer Group! Long live the True Horde! Long live Alam the Conqueror!¡±

    ¡° ¡°Ahaha, don¡¯t call me conqueror! That makes me sound like the antagonist in a story,¡± Alam winked, pretending to twirl a mustache like a classic villain. ¡°Next thing you know, I¡¯ll be tying damsels to train tracks! Let¡¯s just stick to being the good guys, shall we?, But never mind¡ªlet¡¯s get to work!¡±

    Laughter erupted in the room as the generals saluted their leader and returned to their offices to prepare for the next offensive. The Dragon Slayer division was formed, and Xiaoyi was appointed as its commander.

    As Alam observed Xiaoyi¡¯s background, he recalled that the general was once part of the Phantom Cult¡ªa secretive and extremist group devoted to the Phantom Priest and their vision of domination. It raised concerns; Xiaoyi might still have ties to the cult and its beliefs, warranting careful observation.

    In mid-November, Alam watched as his forces of the United Crescent Alliance marched toward Novosibirsk.

    ¡°Gentlemen,¡± he called out, ¡°if our allies in the Middle East and Asia join the attack, it will be World War IV.¡±

    The combined forces advanced from different directions toward the Zion base. The True horde and the Crescent Alliance were working together,

    This promised to be a colossal battle, a clash of empires unseen since the Great War.

    General Yang. General Zhang and General Ali look at alam at distance. which they notice he more cheerful after his marriage with general baihu. or maybe he just coping again?

    Zhang then look at other two ¡°he always asking. how we prevent the ww4. but now he seems embrace it fully by join the orchestra ¡°

    Yang, shrugged, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He tapped a finger on the reinforced plating of his left cybernetic eye beneath his eyepatch. ¡°i never see him as.. pacifist per say, he is my mentor of offensive tactic. Besides,¡± he added with a hint of a grin, ¡°he never struck me as a man afraid of a good fight.¡±

    Ali, watched Alam with a knowing smile.¡°The stories say Genghis Khan wept for every life lost, even those of his enemies. But he still conquered. Sometimes, a man does what he must, even if his heart isn¡¯t in it.¡±

    He paused, his gaze drifting to the vast array of troops and war machines preparing for battle. ¡°Perhaps Alam weeps inside too. But the river of war has begun to flow, and it will not be easily diverted.¡±

 Chapter 103 Playing the Game

    The air in the Black Nation¡¯s war room crackled with tension. Hejaz, Nara, and Wazir were gathered around a holographic map of Central Asia, their faces etched with concern. Alam¡¯s forces¡ªa formidable combination of True Horde soldiers and Crescent Alliance warriors¡ªwere advancing rapidly, a relentless tide sweeping across the contested territories.

    Subject: Spy Report on Alam''s Character

    Date: [17 November 2405]

    To: [Hejaz]

    From: [Hornet Ginger hair]

    Classification: Confidential

    <ol>

    <li>Introduction</li>

    </ol>

    As per the directive, this report provides a comprehensive analysis of Alam''s character, focusing on his leadership style, strategic decision-making, and interactions with subordinates and adversaries.

    <ol>

    <li>Observations and Analysis</li>

    </ol>

    Leadership Style:

    Alam''s leadership style is characterized by a strategic and calculated approach to warfare, emphasizing the importance of manipulation, psychological tactics, and the use of deception to achieve military objectives. He demonstrates a willingness to employ aggressive tactics and make difficult decisions in pursuit of his goals.

    Strategic Decision-Making:

    Alam exhibits strategic acumen, making decisions that benefit the team and enhance their combat capabilities. He emphasizes the importance of conquest and the use of ruthless methods to ensure dominance and control.

    Interactions with Subordinates and Adversaries:

    Alam expects fierce and unyielding loyalty from his officers and soldiers, emphasizing the need for absolute commitment. He is cautious and diligent in handling potential spies or infiltrators among the ranks.

    <ol>

    <li>Conclusion</li>

    </ol>

    Alam''s character reflects a complex and multifaceted personality, shaped by the realities of warfare and the pursuit of power and control. His leadership style, strategic decision-making, and interactions with subordinates and adversaries demonstrate a calculated and unyielding approach to achieving military objectives.

    <ol>

    <li>Recommendations</li>

    </ol>

    Further surveillance and analysis are recommended to gain deeper insights into Alam''s character and leadership style, as well as to anticipate and counter potential strategic maneuvers.

    End of Report.

    [Hornet Ginger hair]

    [Carmelita]

    Hejaz studied the report, intrigued by Alam''s strategic prowess. "If he¡¯s so strong, why is he mediating with the Golden Caravan? There must be more to his intentions than just peace."

    Wazir replied, "The Golden Caravan is embroiled in a civil war. They might just be seeking unity amidst chaos."

    Hejaz pondered, "A civil war? This could be our chance to ally with one side and gain an advantage."

    Wazir continued, "We¡¯ve also received intel that Alam plans to attack a Zion base. The True Horde and Crescent Alliance are pushing us to join the fight."

    Hejaz frowned, "That¡¯s suspicious. It could be a trap to lure us into a vulnerable position while they strike elsewhere."

    Wazir raised an eyebrow, "What¡¯s your decision?"

    Hejaz sighed, "I won¡¯t act just yet. We need more information before making a move. Let¡¯s wait for their attack on the Zion base; that¡¯s when we¡¯ll be ready."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Wazir suggested, "Perhaps we could send a small contingent to assist the Emerald League, maintaining our neutrality while still offering support."

    Hejaz nodded, "Agreed. We¡¯ll send a hidden contingent to aid them without fully committing to the conflict."

    Nara, observing the discussion, felt a spark of inspiration. "I have an idea to deal with Alam."

    Hejaz leaned in, intrigued. "What¡¯s your plan?"

    Nara smiled, "We can trick Alam by playing dumb. If he thinks we¡¯ve fallen into his trap, he¡¯ll lower his guard. We can provoke him into revealing his true intentions."

    Hejaz considered this. "That could work. Alam¡¯s ego might blind him to our strategy. But how do we set this trap?"

    Nara replied, "We can make him believe that Hejaz is weak and that he¡¯s the true leader of the Black Nation. If he thinks he can easily conquer us, he¡¯ll let his guard down."

    Hejaz agreed, "Yes, if Alam sees me as a puppet, he¡¯ll underestimate us. This could be the perfect opportunity to gather intel on his true motives."

    Wazir added, "Your caution is commendable, but Nara¡¯s past raises doubts. How can we trust her not to be a double agent?"

    Nara, feeling defensive, responded, "I¡¯ve fought hard for our nation against the Red Army. Why can¡¯t you see my loyalty?"

    Hejaz intervened, "Let¡¯s not doubt Nara¡¯s commitment. She¡¯s proven herself. Nara, continue your work, and we¡¯ll finalize this plan soon."

    Nara nodded, determined. "I¡¯ll show you all that I¡¯m not a double agent. I¡¯ll bring down Zion!"

    Hejaz smiled, proud of her resolve. "Now, let¡¯s refine our strategy to outsmart Alam."

    Hejaz leaned back in his chair, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. ¡°Alright, listen up. Making you a neutral figure means Alam will see you as someone outside the Black Nation. He won¡¯t be suspicious, and that¡¯s our ticket to getting him to let his guard down. But I¡¯m sorry to say, it¡¯s going to take us a bit longer to finalize this plan. I assure you, though, by tonight, we¡¯ll have a decision.¡±

    After a lengthy discussion, Wazir chimed in, ¡°Nara¡¯s dubious past might actually work in our favor. Her reputation as a mercenary could be the perfect bluff.¡±

    Hejaz nodded, ¡°True. But now we have to decide: do we go with this risky plan to trick Alam, or do we play it safe with a less effective approach?¡±

    Wazir raised an eyebrow. ¡°But remember, every action has consequences. If this bluff gets revealed, we could be seen as untrustworthy.¡±

    Hejaz sighed, ¡°You¡¯re right. But if we want to win this war, we can¡¯t just sit in our comfort zone. We need to take some risks. Let¡¯s discuss this with the rest of the cabinet and let them weigh in. We need to be careful, though; the consequences of our choices are critical right now.¡±

    Nara watched Hejaz speak, her impatience growing as she glanced at the other cabinet members debating the situation. She couldn¡¯t hold back any longer. ¡°Please, why wait? Every minute counts! The True Horde is gaining ground, and the Red Nation is gearing up for a massive assault on the Emerald League. We need to decide now!¡±

    Hejaz considered her words. ¡°You¡¯re right. Let¡¯s wrap this up and bring it to a quick vote. If the True Horde attacks, both the Crescent Alliance and the Emerald League will be on the defensive. This is the perfect time for the enemy to strike.¡±

    With that, the vote was called. Hands shot up in favor of Nara¡¯s plan to provoke Alam and reveal his true intentions.

    Hejaz smiled, ¡°Well, the verdict is clear. Most of us are on board with Nara¡¯s plan. Now we just need to prepare and find the right moment to put it into action.¡±

    Wazir turned to Nara. ¡°So, what¡¯s your vision? Do you want to meet Alam directly or use the intercom?¡±

    Nara felt a wave of relief wash over her. ¡°Alright then, we need to prepare and find the right moment.¡± She paused, considering her options. ¡°Hmm... I have an idea, but it¡¯s risky. What if I meet Alam directly? But first, I¡¯ll set a trap to catch him off guard.¡±

    Wazir nodded, ¡°I see. Just remember, your mission is to provoke him and reveal his true intentions. Is he genuinely trying to repel the Red Nation¡¯s invasion, or is he just masking a desire to conquer lands?¡±

    Nara smiled confidently. ¡°I understand the mission, and I won¡¯t fail. I¡¯ll make Alam fall into my trap and expose his true intentions. Even if it puts me in a risky situation, I won¡¯t fail!¡±

    Hejaz gave her an encouraging nod. ¡°Roger that, Nara. We¡¯ll keep you updated. You can meet Alam whenever you want. Just remember, don¡¯t show any signs of weakness. Alam likes to provoke those he sees as weak.¡±

    Nara nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. The fate of her nation rested on her, and she needed to be strong. ¡°I understand. I won¡¯t let you down. I¡¯ll meet Alam and provoke him to reveal his true intentions. I won¡¯t fail this mission!¡±

    A few days later, on November 20th, Nara found herself flying a spy plane across the Caspian Sea. Memories flooded back as she crossed the water, recalling her youth after graduating from the academy. She had run away from home and joined Panji in a port city, even getting chased by the coast guard.

    As they flew east over the contested region of Central Asia, the pilot skillfully maneuvered the plane low among the canyons and valleys, dodging potential anti-aircraft fire. Below, she could see areas blackened from bombardments, a stark reminder of the ongoing conflict.

    Suddenly, their plane was intercepted by a Red Army jet. The pilot executed barrel rolls and dropped flares to evade missiles. After a tense fifteen minutes of pursuit, the Red Army jet finally gave up, fearing the True Horde¡¯s anti-air capabilities.

    They landed at a True Horde airport in Xinjiang, and Nara quickly set out to catch up with Alam¡¯s convoy. After hours of driving north, she finally arrived at his base. There he was¡ªAlam, a man with long black hair and a jacket, slightly resembling Panji but with a darker complexion.

    Nara took a deep breath, ready to face the challenge ahead.

 Chapter 104 Building trust

    Alam leaned back in his high-backed chair, crafted from polished darkwood reinforced with plasteel struts, sifting through Nara''s dossier displayed on a holographic projector that cast a faint blue light across the room

    ¡°So, you¡¯re a mercenary, a former Zion bodyguard who decided to betray them, and now you¡¯re with the Emerald League? An ex-gladiator? Interesting woman for sure,

    im too are connected to zion at my time with wanderers, but we are the vigilante and trying maintain order in europe. we not a mindless merc. so we are similar. but different..¡± he mused, a smirk playing on his lips.

    ¡°Yeah... so what?¡± Nara replied, crossing her arms, her expression unreadable.

    Alam coughed lightly, trying to shake off the casual banter. ¡°Nothing. I have limited time for games. What do you want?¡±

    Nara took a deep breath, her demeanor shifting to something more serious. ¡°I¡¯m not here to play. I want to discuss something important. Can we talk?¡±

    ¡°Sure, go on,¡± Alam said, intrigued.

    Nara stared at him intently, her tone becoming steely. ¡°Tell me, are you fighting just to defend your nation, or is there another purpose behind this war?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely. The True Horde¡¯s mission is to repel the Red Army. We won¡¯t stop until they¡¯re destroyed,¡± Alam replied, conviction ringing in his voice.

    Nara¡¯s expression softened slightly, a flicker of hope in her eyes. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying that all this time, the True Horde has been fighting purely for defense?¡±

    ¡°Exactly. My goal in uniting China is to strengthen our chances against them,¡± Alam said, his tone earnest.

    Nara¡¯s curiosity piqued, her voice growing calmer. ¡°I see... but what if the True Horde succeeds? What happens if you manage to destroy the Red Army? Will you just retreat and call it a day?¡±

    Alam chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Ah, no. World conquest is too much for me.¡±

    A light giggle escaped Nara¡¯s lips, her serious facade cracking. ¡°So you really do just want to defend your nation, right? But what if the Red Army attacks? What then?¡±

    ¡°You have no idea,¡± Alam replied, a hint of a smile creeping onto his face. ¡°I¡¯ve been fighting them for about three years now, if you count the Blood Khaganate its dang 5 years ¡°he take a deep sigh¡± We were once their vassals, but I rebelled. I refused to be a pawn.¡±

    Nara¡¯s surprise was palpable, her intrigue deepening. ¡°Wait... I¡¯ve heard about the Blood Khaganate. That¡¯s the history behind it! So you did rebel against them?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Alam said. Just then, an officer approached to discuss a military operation, and Alam turned back to Nara. ¡°Alright, I might write a book about it someday if Gott wills it. But for now, it¡¯s not a good time for bedtime stories. Let me be clear: will you lend your power to defend the Emerald League?¡±

    Nara¡¯s excitement was palpable. ¡°Well... I can... BUT! If I¡¯m going to lend my power and fight for the Emerald League, I have conditions.¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°What conditions?¡±

    ¡°I want something in return for my power and my life,¡± Nara declared firmly.

    ¡°Yeah, I figured as much. You mercs don¡¯t care about nations and stuff. Of course, we can pay you in gold,¡± Alam said,

    Nara narrowed her eyes, her tone shifting to serious. ¡°Gold? I don''t care about gold. If I¡¯m putting my life on the line, I deserve something more valuable.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡± Alam asked, his curiosity piqued.

    ¡°I want something that can¡¯t be bought with money. I want your trust,¡± she replied, her gaze piercing.

    Alam raised an eyebrow and chuckled. ¡°Ha! Sure.¡±

    Nara couldn¡¯t believe her ears, her stern expression softening into a smile. ¡°You mean it? You¡¯re really going to give me your full trust?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I need to trust you too. Why did you betray Zion?¡± Alam pressed, his curiosity genuine.

    Nara¡¯s expression turned serious again. ¡°The reason is personal... I have my own reasons for betraying them. I swear it has nothing to do with you or the True Horde.¡±

    Alam leaned in, urging her. ¡°But... just a small hint?¡±

    She hesitated, then finally relented. ¡°If you really need to know, let¡¯s just say my reason for betraying Zion is tied to their actions. I can¡¯t see them as a ¡®good¡¯ nation anymore. That¡¯s all I can say.¡±

    ¡°Okay, good enough. But please, just a little more?¡± Alam asked, trying to glean more.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Nara shook her head, clearly uncomfortable with revealing too much. ¡°If you must know, my betrayal was about personal issues. That¡¯s it.¡±

    Alam chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. ¡°Did he flirt with you?¡±

    ¡°Who?!¡± Nara shot back, her expression hardening.

    ¡°Nothing, nothing,¡± Alam replied, holding up his hands in mock surrender. ¡°How many troops do you have?¡±

    ¡°We have about 320 soldiers, including mercenaries. Most are on the frontlines fighting for the Red Army and Emerald League. We¡¯re low on manpower, but our kinetic energy weapons give us a significant advantage. We also possess advanced cloaking technology, but deploying it effectively requires a larger team. It''s the classic merc''s dilemma: great gear, not enough bodies to use it,

    Alam sighed heavily. ¡°Not good enough. What about the Hejaz Caliphate? Are they joining the fray?¡±

    Nara shook her head. ¡°No. The Hejaz Caliphate is neutral now. They¡¯re focusing on defense and don¡¯t want to participate in this war.¡±

    Alam pouted, frustration creeping into his voice. ¡°Fools! The best defense is a good offense. Alright, I¡¯ll send a contingent to help the Emerald League. Tell the Hejaz to stop being chickens.¡±

    Nara chuckles and reply, "They''re playing it safe. They don''t want to get involved unless they have to."

    Alam leaned back, studying her. "So, what you waiting for?"

    Nara met his gaze. "I need to contact my team. a 24 hours for process, They need confirmation of my status."

    Alam''s eyes narrowed slightly. "A day? Why so long?"

    Nara crossed her arms. "It''s not a social call. It''s about verifying my allegiance. They need to be sure I haven''t been compromised."

    Alam considered this for a moment. "Alright. But I''m not delaying my operations. You find me at the next base when you''re done."

    ¡°Deal,¡± Nara replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡°I¡¯ll just hop on my magic carpet and fly over there.¡±

    As Alam nodded and left, Nara quickly dialed Wazir. ¡°Hey, I need to report back. Alam¡¯s giving me a day to contact my team.¡±

    Wazir¡¯s voice crackled through the line. ¡°Yes, but¡­ wait, what¡¯s this I hear about you playing dumb?¡±

    Nara sighed, exasperated. ¡°I told him I¡¯d play dumb to trick him into revealing his true intentions. It¡¯s a strategy, Wazir, not a Broadway audition!¡±

    Wazir snorted. ¡°You seem to be auditioning for the role of ¡®Most Likely to Fail.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Shut it, Wazir! I¡¯m not going to fail this mission. I know what I¡¯m doing!¡± Nara shot back, rolling her eyes so hard she almost saw her brain.

    ¡°Alright, just don¡¯t mess it up. We need to know what¡¯s going on in that thick skull of Alam¡¯s,¡± Wazir replied, his tone lightening.

    Nara hung up, muttering to herself. ¡°Great, now I¡¯m a spy and a bad actress. What¡¯s next? A stand-up comedy routine?¡±

    The next day, Nara followed Alam¡¯s convoy ¨C a mix of armored personnel carriers and horse-drawn supply wagons ¨C through the frozen steppes, passing the skeletal remains of pre-Collapse cities and the more recent, hastily dug graves of the war.. ¡°Welcome to the True Horde¡¯s version of Disneyland,¡± she quipped to herself, shaking her head at the absurdity.

    Finally, she arrived at Alam¡¯s bunker, its one among the hidden pre-war bunker. ¡°Oh, you! Have you made up your mind?¡± he asked, leaning back in his chair

    Nara straightened up, her serious mode activated. ¡°I¡¯m not here for flirting, Alam. I¡¯ve decided to join you and your nation to fight the Red Army. But I have conditions.¡±

    Alam narrowed his eyes, looking like he was trying to solve a riddle. ¡°You want to join the True Horde? Why the sudden change of heart?¡±

    Nara flashed a confident smile. ¡°Let¡¯s just say I¡¯m not interested in fighting for Zion anymore. I want to be on the winning side. And you, my friend, are going to win this war.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Typical mercenary logic,¡± Alam replied, smirking. ¡°But you¡¯ll be fighting in the front lines. Welcome to the True Horde, where you earn your rank as a private!¡±

    Nara shrugged, unfazed. ¡°I don¡¯t mind working hard. As long as I¡¯m on the winning side, I can accept that. Winners deserve to win, not losers.¡±

    ¡°Very good,¡± Alam nodded, looking pleased. ¡°But I still want you to defend the Emerald League. I¡¯m confident in my numbers up north, but since the Hejaz Caliphate is playing hide-and-seek, someone needs to help the Emerald League.¡±

    Nara¡¯s face fell slightly. ¡°So, you want me to be the backup dancer for the Emerald League while you take center stage?¡±

    ¡°Exactly! You¡¯ll be the star of the show!¡± Alam replied, grinning.

    ¡°Great, I¡¯ll just wear a sparkly outfit and do jazz hands while fighting the Red Army,¡± Nara said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

    ¡°Just focus on the mission, Nara. You¡¯ll do great,¡± Alam said,

    As Nara couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯m joining a war or a circus, but at least I¡¯ll get a front-row seat to the chaos.¡±

    Nara stood in front of Alam, her heart racing like a caffeinated squirrel on a sugar high. ¡°Okay... I can see it as an advantage now. At least I don''t have to fight against the Red Army all by myself. I''m gonna admit, the Emerald League is very resourceful,¡± she said, trying to sound confident while her knees wobbled like jelly.

    ¡°Can I ask you another question?¡± she ventured, inching closer like a cat stalking a particularly juicy mouse.

    ¡°Sure, speak,¡± Alam replied, leaning back in his chair, looking like he was about to hear the world¡¯s worst knock-knock joke.

    Nara took a deep breath, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°This might sound like a very strange question, but do you really trust me?¡±

    Alam raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his face. ¡°Mhmh... ah...¡± He then casually tossed her a revolver. ¡°Shoot me.¡±

    Nara¡¯s eyes widened ¡°A-are you serious?¡± she stammered, her hand shaking as she pointed the gun at him, half-expecting him to burst out laughing and say it was all a prank.

    ¡°Will you do it?¡± Alam teased, his grin widening.

    ¡°Y-yes... I will. But are you sure about this?¡± Nara¡¯s voice trembled,

    ¡°Are you going to kill me?¡± Alam asked, feigning shock, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

    Nara¡¯s face paled, and she started sweating like a popsicle in the sun. ¡°Are... are you sure about this? Do you really want me to do that? Because I will definitely do it if you insist!¡±

    ¡°Okay, just pull the trigger,¡± Alam said, barely containing his laughter.

    Nara¡¯s hand jerked, and the gun barrel inched closer to Alam¡¯s body. Her finger hovered over the trigger l

    ¡°Ahaha... do it!¡± Alam encouraged, clearly enjoying the absurdity of the situation.

    With a shaky breath, Nara pressed the trigger. The revolver went off with a loud bang, and smoke filled the air. For a moment, everything was silent.

    Alam coughed through the smoke, a grin plastered on his face. ¡°It¡¯s a blank round! So, based on that event, you¡¯re the type who can follow orders blindly. I kinda trust you as a soldier now.¡±

    Nara blinked, her surprise morphing into a relieved smile. ¡°So, you didn¡¯t really want to get shot, huh? That was a test, and I passed!¡±

    ¡°True loyalists wouldn¡¯t pull the trigger,¡± Alam winked, his tone playful.

    Nara¡¯s expression shifted to serious. ¡°Hmm... you¡¯re right. This was also a test about loyalty. I think I made the wrong decision about that. That¡¯s why I hesitated.¡±

    ¡°No worries. You¡¯re still considered a good... merc,¡± Alam said, his tone lightening.

    ¡°Good! I¡¯m glad if that¡¯s the case. But I¡¯m curious¡ªdo you plan to keep using blank rounds for future tests?¡± Nara asked, half-joking.

    ¡°Perhaps... now, anything else?¡± Alam replied, his curiosity piqued.

    Nara shook her head, but then her curiosity got the better of her. ¡°No, not really. I guess that was all. But just let¡¯s say... my heart is really beating so fast right now. I thought it was a real bullet until you mentioned it was only a blank round.¡±

    ¡°Haah. Ahaha... yeah, it¡¯s normal. Everyone around me is beating their hearts fast. Now, see you later. I¡¯ll send Hind to escort you back to the Emerald League,¡± Alam said, waving her off

    ¡°Okay, I understand. But... one more thing before we part ways,¡± Nara said, hesitating for a moment.

    ¡°Yes? What?¡± Alam asked, intrigued.

    She took a deep breath, her confidence wavering. ¡°In the future... if that opportunity comes, would you take me as your private guard?¡±

    Alam¡¯s laughter echoed through the room. ¡°Ahahahah.. NO..¡±

    Nara¡¯s face fell, her disappointment palpable. ¡°W-why?¡±

    ¡°Ahaha... you betrayed Zion for unknown reasons. You¡¯re an untrustworthy figure,¡± Alam teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

    At first, Nara was taken aback, but then she burst into laughter. ¡°Hahaha... I know why you won¡¯t do that for me! Because you can¡¯t trust me yet, right?¡± She paused, putting her hand on her chin, deep in thought. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m curious about one thing now. How are you going to build your trust with me? Do you have some plan for that?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps. Only Gott knows... now farewell,¡± Alam said, his tone shifting back to serious.

    Nara nodded, a small smile creeping onto her face. ¡°Goodbye, Alam. And good luck winning your war.¡±

    As she left, she felt a swell of pride. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I just pulled a gun on my new boss. What a day!¡± she thought, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.

    Later, when she reported back to Wazir, he raised an eyebrow. ¡°I see... well, to be honest, Alam seems like a very unpredictable person.¡±

    ¡°I agree, Wazir... Alam is indeed one unpredictable person,¡± Nara replied, her smile still lingering.

    ¡°But... you still haven¡¯t told me about your bait nation,¡± Wazir said, hesitating for a moment.

    ¡°Never mind. You did a good job, Nara. Safe fly,¡± he added, and Nara felt a rush of pride wash over her.

    ¡°Thank you, Wazir. I will do my best for my mission and report back here,¡± she said, her heart swelling with determination.

 Chapter 105 Winter surprise

    Alam''s forces advanced swiftly across the winter tundra towards Novosibirsk, their mobile cities providing essential shelter against the harsh elements. The Wanderer Group was well-prepared, having trained rigorously for winter combat, while air and naval patrols ensured no reinforcements could disrupt their advance.

    "Very well. Execute the plan," Alam commanded as the multi-pronged assault on the Zion base commenced. Ground, air, and sabotage units coordinated their strikes, overwhelming Zion defenses and capturing key positions.

    ¡°Good. Their base has become their grave,¡± Alam declared, as the True Horde pushed deeper into the stronghold, the Dragon Slayer division leading the charge.

    ¡°Pull the Dragon Slayers back; let the regulars finish the mop-up,¡± he ordered, confident in their imminent victory.

    With one base captured, seven remained. Alam prepared for a potential counterattack, fortifying positions and setting traps. He ordered flamethrower units to the underground tunnel entrances, anticipating Zion reinforcements.

    ¡°Wait for it... Now!¡± Alam commanded, unleashing a deadly combination of gas and fire that engulfed the tunnel, creating chaos among the approaching Zion forces.

    ¡°Good. Set traps and hidden cameras. We¡¯ll abandon this base and let them think they¡¯ve won,¡± Alam strategized, planning to lure the Zion into a false sense of security.

    In just four days, the Wanderer Group had captured two bases, showcasing the effectiveness of the Dragon Slayer division. As Alam convened a war council, he outlined their next moves, deciding to attack one base in the west with full force while staging a diversion in the east.

    ¡°This campaign is moving faster than expected. We must take the initiative and strike hard,¡± he urged, rallying his commanders for the final push against the remaining Zion strongholds. Victory was within reach, and the True Horde was determined to seize it.

    Alam leaned forward, eyes sharp. "So, how many casualties have we racked up?"

    The war council quickly reported, displaying the figures on a holographic tactical display: "Wanderer Group: 2,058 confirmed KIA, 574 MIA, and an estimated 1,100 wounded requiring immediate medical attention. Zion: 2,287 confirmed KIA, 812 MIA, and an estimated 950 wounded." The numbers were telling; the Wanderers were inflicting damage while keeping their own losses relatively low.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    "Interesting," Alam mused, a smirk creeping onto his face. "The Zion forces are weakening. No more overwhelming numbers. Victory is within our grasp! Let¡¯s keep the pressure on and take this region by New Year!"

    Meanwhile, at Zion HQ in South Novosibirsk, Kassandra slammed her fist on the table, scattering holographic maps. "How is this possible?! They captured our stronghold in just four days! Where did their numbers come from?"

    After a tense pause, she turned to Trickster, fury in her eyes. "Did you fake our troop numbers?!"

    Trickster sighed, "We don¡¯t have 16 million troops. We only have 6 million after the revolution. I inflated the numbers to boost morale for the Emerald League attack."

    Zion''s eyes widened at the revelation. "Only 6 million? This changes everything!"

    Kassandra, furious, pulled her pistol and aimed it at Trickster''s head. Zion''s heart raced. "No!" he shouted, raising his hands in panic.

    After a long pause, Kassandra slapped Trickster instead, holstering her gun. Zion let out a sigh of relief, but the tension lingered.

    "Why are you so calm?" Kassandra demanded. "The Wraith campaign is a disaster! Our defenses are weak, and we¡¯re on the verge of defeat!"

    Zion remained composed. "A leader must stay focused. Panic won¡¯t solve our problems. We need solutions."

    Trickster interjected, shaking. "If we capture the Emerald League, we¡¯ll secure the funds to continue! I¡¯ve calculated it; we can win after taking their treasury!"

    Kassandra nodded, "Then we must not fail in the next offensive. Zion, you need to lead our battered army to victory."

    Zion contemplated the task ahead. It was do or die; they had to seize the Emerald League''s treasure or face ruin.

    "But first," Keith chimed in, "we need to get out of this region before the coalition encircles us."

    Zion considered the implications. If the coalition surrounded them, it would spell disaster for their plans and the Red Nation''s future.

    Trickster leaned in, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Listen, I¡¯ve deployed a game changer to hold Novosibirsk He revealed a monitor displaying a schematic of a specialized dispersal device connected to a network of underground pipes. The label read: ¡°Project: Red Mist ¨C Dispersal System v3.7. Payload: Aerosolized Neurotoxin Compound X-9.¡±

    The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation hanging heavy in the air. On the monitor, the harsh winter brought a somewhat peaceful white feeling, a stark contrast to the chaos outside.

    Further south, on the island of Madagascar, Cecilia¡ªa girl in a ballet dress with a bun in her blonde hair¡ªwas buzzing with excitement. She was about to perform her first-ever concert, a peace concert. Cecilia was an idol of love, a beacon of hope who believed in peace and tolerance. As she sang and danced, her heart swelled with joy.

    Meanwhile, Khawlah, a woman from the Crescent Alliance, returned from her duty to report on the latest war progress. She whispered, keeping her tone low as she spoke to key officials while the concert was in full swing.

    After the concert, Cecilia let out a satisfied sigh. She knew she had given it her all, and that felt good. After a quick refresh, she put on an advanced mask that transformed her appearance from a white blonde girl into someone with tanned skin and black hair. She slipped on gloves and leggings, completing her disguise.

    With her new look, Cecilia blended in with the people of the White Nation without a hitch. In a world spiraling into war and chaos, she was determined to promote love and unity.

    She settled into a local caf¨¦, enjoying the moment until a military parade rolled down the streets of the Holy People Council. Her heart sank as she watched advanced tech designed for destruction being shipped overseas. The pristine white tanks, APCs, and mechs were not just ordinary military equipment; the White Nation was a master of camouflage technology from the pre-war era. These machines could blend into any environment they were deployed in.

    Feeling powerless in the face of such overwhelming force, Cecilia was lost in thought until someone tapped her shoulder. It was her friends. They recognized her despite her disguise, thanks to the data chips connected to her persona. It was Cecilia''s birthday, and they reminded her to enjoy it and pray for a better world. For now, she would hold onto hope amidst the turmoil.

 Chapter 106 Santa Gift

    On the coalition side,  the combined forces of the Crescent Alliance and allied nations, soldiers from diverse backgrounds and cultures huddled together...

    ¡°We found American food!¡± one soldier exclaimed, proudly holding up a large pot.

    ¡°American food?¡± another asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

    ¡°Yeah! We found a American gladiator, and we cooked him,¡± he explained with a grin.

    Alam, witnessing this bizarre scene, simply shook his head and strolled away, choosing to ignore the coalition soldiers'' antics. He made his way to his war tent, reminding himself that despite their cannibalistic tendencies, the important thing was that morale was high.

    Once inside, Alam removed his mask after inspecting the coalition soldiers. He took a seat at his desk, tapping his lips thoughtfully. ¡°What do you think, guys? I feel a bit paranoid about our gains. It¡¯s like we¡¯re waiting for a surprise party that nobody wants to attend,¡± he mused, glancing around at his generals.

    The generals exchanged uneasy glances, as if they were all in on a joke that Alam had missed. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s suspicious. We¡¯ve taken three Zion bases without much resistance. It¡¯s like they rolled out the red carpet for us,¡± one general from the Golden Caravan remarked, scratching his head as if trying to figure out how to fold a fitted sheet.

    Nkosi chimed in, ¡°It¡¯s definitely odd. They usually put up a fight. We should prepare for an ambush. Better safe than sorry!¡±

    Alam nodded. ¡°Right. Let¡¯s split our forces. I¡¯ll keep the pressure on while you guys guard our flanks. History shows that conquerors often trip over their own feet when they get too timid.¡± He gestured dramatically, as if directing a play about the perils of overconfidence.

    Nkosi considered this, her brow furrowing. ¡°Splitting our forces could work. We keep them engaged while staying alert for any surprises. It¡¯s a gamble, but a smart one.¡±

    ¡°Exactly! And so far, no reinforcements from their side. They must be waiting for the right moment to strike,¡± Alam replied, a glint of determination in his eyes.

    ¡°Let¡¯s keep the Crescent Alliance on defense while we push forward,¡± Nkosi suggested,

    With the plan set, Alam turned to his generals. ¡°Zhang, you secure my flank. Xiaoyin and the regulars, keep pushing. The Crescent Alliance will watch our backs. Victory is within reach!¡±

    As they prepared to attack the next base, Alam couldn¡¯t help but question the Zion strategy. ¡°Why bother building so many bases if their defenses are weak? It¡¯s like they¡¯re inviting us in. ¡®Welcome to our base! Please take a seat, and don¡¯t mind the booby traps!¡¯¡± He chuckled at the thought, imagining a Zion soldier offering him cookies while hiding a grenade behind his back.

    With five out of eight Zion bases captured, the Wanderer Group was on the brink of victory. But Alam knew they had to stay sharp. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s keep the pressure on and take those remaining bases! No mercy!¡± He raised his fist in the air, looking like a motivational poster come to life.

    The Wanderer Group kept pushing forward, closing in on the remaining three Zion strongholds. The Zion forces were on the back foot, and the Wanderers were determined to keep up the pressure. ¡°We¡¯re like a bad rash they can¡¯t get rid of!¡± Alam joked, earning a few chuckles from his generals.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    The Wanderer Group and the Crescent Alliance troops saw how their bullet trap paid off. The Zion were using their own explosive bullets to kill their own men, which further reduced their force. ¡°Talk about friendly fire!¡± one general quipped, shaking his head in disbelief.

    The Zion soldiers were starting to fear shooting their own guns because the bullets might be planted with explosives. ¡°It¡¯s like a game of Russian roulette, but with more paperwork!¡± Alam laughed, picturing the Zion soldiers nervously glancing at their weapons like they were ticking time bombs.

    Fear had started to grip the Zion soldiers, lowering the morale of the remaining forces. The Wanderer Group and the Crescent Alliance troops were determined to keep pushing forward to the final three Zion strongholds and finally complete their mission to liberate the region from Zion control. ¡°Let¡¯s show them that we¡¯re not just here for the snacks!¡± Alam declared, rallying his troops with a grin.

    Alam got the news that they¡¯d stumbled upon a giant red chamber right in the middle of the base they just conquered. ¡°What¡¯s this? A giant red room? Sounds like a bad horror movie,¡± he thought. The Dragon Slayer division was on cleanup duty, checking for any leftover Zion forces, and they were the ones who found this mysterious chamber.

    ¡°Hey, Xiaoyi,¡± Alam called up the division commander. ¡°You ever seen anything like this before?¡±

    ¡°Not a giant red chamber, no. This is a first for me,¡± Xiaoyi replied, looking just as puzzled.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s not get distracted. We¡¯ll figure out what this thing is after we finish cleaning up this base. Focus on securing the area!¡± Alam ordered, and Xiaoyi nodded like a bobblehead.

    But just as they were getting ready to mop up, the red chamber decided to throw a surprise party of its own¡ªBOOM! It exploded, sending a thick red mist wafting across the base. ¡°Well, that¡¯s not good,¡± Alam muttered, watching the chaos unfold.

    ¡°Pull out the soldiers now! It¡¯s a trap!¡± he shouted, panic creeping into his voice. The Wanderer Group and the Crescent Alliance realized they were in deep trouble. They tried to contact the regular troops inside, but it was like trying to reach a friend who¡¯s ghosting you. No response.

    They sent in a spy drone to check things out, and what they saw was straight out of a horror flick: the regular soldiers were going berserk, turning on each other like it was a free-for-all at a buffet. ¡°What the heck is in that mist?¡± Alam exclaimed, his eyes wide.

    ¡°Artillery strike! Now!¡± Nkosi yelled, her voice laced with urgency. ¡°And tell them to aim for everything. If it moves, shoot it. If it doesn¡¯t move, it¡¯s probably a trap, so shoot it anyway.¡±

    The order was given, and the sky opened up with a rain of destruction, obliterating everything in sight. ¡°Talk about overkill!¡± Alam thought, watching the chaos unfold.

    After the dust settled, they sent in a hazmat team to assess the damage. Survivors were still loopy from the red mist, and they had to wrangle a few of their crazed comrades for some serious investigation.

    Back at the command center, Alam was trying to make sense of the situation. ¡°Anyone seen anything like this before?¡± he asked, looking around.

    Nkosi piped up, ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve got two Zion bases left, and we¡¯ve hit pause on our offensive. This red mist is spreading fast and turning our guys into berserkers. We need to figure out what¡¯s going on before it gets worse.¡±

    Alam turned to Khawlah, the Holy People¡¯s Council rep. ¡°I heard you guys have done some experiments in the past. Got anything that can help us?¡±

    Khawlah nodded, looking serious. ¡°We¡¯ve got a biological and chemical agent that could counter the red mist. It¡¯s a last-resort weapon, though.¡±

    ¡°Great, but let¡¯s not go all-in on that just yet. If the Crescent Alliance wants to use it, don¡¯t put my name on it,¡± Alam replied, feeling the weight of the decision.

    ¡°Agreed. We¡¯ll only use it if absolutely necessary,¡± Nkosi confirmed.

    With a heavy sigh, Alam said, ¡°I¡¯m pushing forward to capture all the bases in this region. The Zion forces are desperate and on the brink of defeat. I suggest the Crescent Alliance moves south to help the Emerald League. We need to split up.¡±

    Nkosi nodded, ¡°I¡¯m on board. We should send some troops to assist the Emerald League while you finish up here.¡±

    ¡°Alright then, farewell,¡± Alam said, giving her a nod.

    ¡°Farewell, General Alam. May the Golden Caravan guide you,¡± Nkosi replied, a faint smile on her face.

    As the Crescent Alliance officers packed up, Artak asked Nkosi, ¡°Why aren¡¯t you joining the others?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t leave the Wanderer Group in this mess. They need my support,¡± she said, determination in her voice.

    Artak frowned. ¡°You don¡¯t get it. Alam doesn¡¯t trust you after you mentioned that weapon.¡±

    ¡°What? That¡¯s ridiculous! The Wanderer Group needs me!¡± Nkosi shot back, her frustration bubbling over.

    ¡°Just saying, it¡¯s a possibility,¡± Artak replied, shrugging.

    Nkosi was taken aback, her heart racing with frustration. ¡°Wait, what? You can¡¯t be serious, Artak! The Wanderer Group needs me now more than ever! It¡¯s ridiculous to think Alam would doubt me just because I mentioned a similar weapon. How can you even say that?¡±

    Artak shrugged, looking a bit exasperated. ¡°You still don¡¯t get it? Just re-read Alam¡¯s last message. Pay attention to his tone.¡±

    Nkosi paused, chewing on his words. She went back over Alam¡¯s message, and it hit her¡ªhe was definitely acting more cautious and less open than usual. ¡°Okay, I see your point, Artak. His tone is different. I wonder what¡¯s behind this change?¡±

    ¡°Who knows? But Alam¡¯s got a point too. We need to back up the Emerald League. They¡¯ve been taking hits from the Red Nation for way too long,¡± Artak replied, his expression serious.

    Nkosi sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. ¡°You¡¯re right. The Emerald League really needs our help right now. I get why Alam wants to send troops south to help them push back against the Red Nation. Let¡¯s get our troops ready to roll and support the Emerald League!¡±

 Chapter 107 Mania Infiltrating the Red Mist

    Alam and the other commanders looked over the soldiers affected by the red mist. It wasn''t a pretty sight. The men were agitated, aggressive, and clearly out of it. They couldn''t talk straight, lost in some kind of mental fog. The red mist was messing with their heads, big time.

    ¡°Doc, any chance we can fix this? Got any meds that¡¯ll help?¡± Alam asked, sounding worried.

    The doctor checked the soldiers over. ¡°We might be able to treat them if we figure out what¡¯s causing this and find the right antidote. Best thing is to quarantine these guys so it doesn¡¯t spread. We also need to find out where this red mist is coming from so we can make a cure.¡±

    Alam nodded, thinking fast. ¡°Let¡¯s keep pushing towards the Zion bases. But hold on¡­¡± He stopped, staring at the ground. The snow around them was bright red. Intel suggested it could be a crystallized form of the mist, or just some kind of red dye. Alam didn¡¯t want to take any chances. ¡°We need hazmat suits before we go any further.¡±

    Out in the distance, the local wildlife was acting strange. Animals were attacking each other like crazy. Someone spotted a wolf eating another wolf. The red mist was affecting everything.

    ¡°We need to find out how they¡¯re making this stuff and come up with an antidote,¡± Alam ordered. ¡°Send the CAD team to investigate. We can¡¯t just wait for this to go away; it¡¯s slowing us down.¡±

    Mei jumped at the chance to lead the investigation. The red mist was causing serious problems, and she was determined to find the source and a solution.

    New intel came in through secure comms: The Red Army was taking over all the poppy fields in the areas they¡¯d captured and sending them to fortified processing centers. Satellite photos of a facility near Kandahar, Afghanistan, showed weird red smoke coming out of the chimneys, and the heat readings were off the charts.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Mei said. ¡°If the Red Army is using poppies, they might be making the red mist from them. Poppies make opium, which could explain what¡¯s happening to people.¡±

    ¡°Want to give it a shot?¡± Vance asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

    ¡°Sure! I¡¯d love to give it a shot,¡± Mei replied, excitement bubbling beneath her calm exterior.

    The CAD team  flew to the contested region of Afghanistan, a landscape scarred by heavy bombardments. Wreckage littered the roads, a haunting reminder of the destruction that had unfolded.

    Setting up base near the poppy fields, just a few kilometers from the targeted factory, they prepared to investigate the facility. Caution was paramount; the area was still contested, and Red Army patrols lurked nearby.

    Razor deployed a grasshopper spy robot to survey the surroundings. Equipped with a small camera, it allowed the team to gather intel while remaining undetected.

    ¡°Looks like that factory is suspiciously guarded,¡± Vance noted. ¡°Too heavy for a simple drug factory.¡±

    ¡°Definitely,¡± Mei agreed. ¡°They¡¯re likely producing something more critical than just drugs. They¡¯re employing local workers to extract the poppy plants. Let¡¯s exploit this¡ªbribe some workers to disguise ourselves.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a plan. We can infiltrate the factory and get a closer look at the production process,¡± Kirk chimed in.

    After successfully bribing some workers, the team disguised themselves and positioned themselves just meters from the factory, ready to begin their infiltration.

    As they pretended to work, they moved toward a warehouse connected to the factory via a conveyor belt.

    ¡°Do you guys think what I¡¯m thinking?¡± Vance asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

    The team looked on expectantly.

    ¡°Crate ride?¡± Vance suggested, pointing to a stack of boxes overflowing with poppy plants. ¡°Conveyor belt to the factory. Razor, you¡¯re on scanner duty.¡±

    Everyone grinned. It was crazy, but it might just work. They clambered into a crate, hoping they wouldn''t get squished. The conveyor belt jerked to life, carrying them toward the factory.

    They bumped and jostled along the belt. When they reached the other side, Vance carefully poked his head through a gap in the wood. A couple of workers were heading their way. Time to improvise.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°Surprise!¡± Vance yelled, bursting out of the crate and zapping one of the workers with his taser. The other worker barely had time to blink before the rest of the team piled out and quickly took him down. Razor got to work on the scanner, bypassing the security system.

    ¡°Let¡¯s move!¡± Vance whispered, leading them into the factory.

    Inside, Razor plugged into the main computer, downloading files on other red mist factories. Finding those locations was key to shutting down the whole operation.

    ¡°Okay, sabotage time,¡± Vance announced. ¡°Remember, we¡¯re ¡®fixing¡¯ things. Act natural.¡± He grinned, and the team scattered, blending in with the workers.

    They moved through the factory¡¯s dim hallways, nerves buzzing. They were dressed in factory uniforms, which helped them blend in. Vance, always the one with the crazy ideas, gave them a wink. ¡°Alright, team. We¡¯re here to repair machines¡ªperfect cover for some good old-fashioned sabotage!¡±

    Razor, stationed near the entrance, was busy hacking the scanner to ensure they had a clean entry and exit. ¡°Just let me know when you¡¯re ready to make some noise,¡± he said with a wink.

    Less than three hours later, the team had successfully disrupted the machinery, but Vance had a glint of mischief in his eyes. ¡°Wait... we need to do something before leaving. How about the plantation itself?¡±

    The others nodded in agreement. Disrupting the poppy fields was crucial, as it was the source of the plants fueling the red mist production. ¡°Let¡¯s poison the plants,¡± Mei suggested. ¡°We can use weed killer on the water containers for the sprinklers. That¡¯ll prevent further growth and cut off their supply.¡±

    ¡°Brilliant!¡± Vance replied, rubbing his hands together. ¡°Let¡¯s make sure this operation leaves a lasting impression.¡±

    Just as they were about to leave, Razor provided intel that a high-ranking officer was scheduled to inspect the factory soon. The team exchanged glances, excitement and tension crackling in the air.

    ¡°Wanna give it a shot?¡± Vance asked, an enthusiastic grin spreading across his face.

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go for it!¡± Kirk chimed in, his confidence infectious.

    They quickly devised a plan to ambush the officer while he inspected the containers on the platform. With plenty of cover available, it was the perfect opportunity to strike.

    Hours passed, and the distant thrum of a military helicopter grew louder. ¡°Looks like our guest has arrived,¡± Vance said, peeking through the foliage. A man in black dismounted, followed closely by a thin figure in a grey suit.

    ¡°Time for the ambush,¡± Vance whispered, adrenaline surging through him.

    the CAD team  is take aim. then razor manage to hack the local camera.and manage to hear the figure conversation with his officer, and its facial indentification. the man was a weaver

    "Sir, 534 out of the 46 insurgents are dead" officer said while his hand on the tablet

    ¡°Civilians are just combatants who didn¡¯t enlist.¡± the weaver says, then continue

    ¡°It¡¯s not a massacre It¡¯s surprise peacekeeping¡±

    Weaver The man in the grey suit began conversing with the others, moving closer to the team''s position. Vance tightened his grip on his weapon. ¡°Alright, take the shot only if you¡¯re 100% sure you¡¯ll get a direct hit.¡±

    As the Weaver leaned against the fence, laughing, Mei took a deep breath and fired first with her silenced pistol, hitting him in the head. Kirk followed suit, landing a shot to the neck. The weaver stumbled, crashing into a container filled with chemicals.

    ¡°Quick and clean!¡± Vance exclaimed, adrenaline pumping as they quickly dispersed, not wanting to linger after taking down a high-ranking officer.

    As they exited the factory, the atmosphere shifted; guards were on high alert, and the team had to maneuver carefully. They ducked into nearby vegetation, hoping to remain unseen until nightfall.

    Weaver then somehow still survive but screaming on agony as his skin is steaming and melting¡°aghhh.. i wanna them dead!.. i im not joker damn it!¡±

    Suddenly, barking echoed from the distance, and Vance¡¯s heart sank. ¡°They¡¯re using dogs to sniff out our trail. It¡¯s only a matter of time before they locate us.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± Mei muttered, her brows knitting together. ¡°What do we do?¡±

    ¡°Alright, we have a better chance if we spread out,¡± Vance said, his face grim. ¡°I¡¯ll create a diversion with a smoke grenade, then we regroup at the rendezvous point. It was a pleasure working with you all, including you, Razor.¡±

    With resolve, he pulled out a smoke grenade. ¡°Let¡¯s do this!¡±

    The team split, sprinting into the underbrush as Vance tossed the grenade, a cloud of smoke enveloping him and obscuring his escape. The barking grew closer, but he was determined to give his team a fighting chance.

    As Vance dashed through the trees, he could hear the whir of helicopter blades approaching and the frantic shouts of soldiers. They needed to outrun their pursuers, and speed was their only ally.

    Meanwhile, Razor monitored the team¡¯s movements from a distance, anxiety gnawing at him. He silently prayed for their safety, a rare moment of vulnerability for the normally composed hacker.

    After what felt like an eternity, Razor received an update from Mei and Kirk confirming they had reached their position. Relief washed over him, but Vance¡¯s absence weighed heavily in the air.

    Then, a crackling radio call broke through. ¡°I¡¯m getting shot. I lost my arm and fell off a cliff. I can¡¯t contact you earlier because they¡¯re right on top of me. Pick me up!¡±

    Razor¡¯s heart raced as he quickly responded, asking for Vance¡¯s location. ¡°Hang on, I¡¯m on my way!¡±

    When Razor found Vance, he was perched precariously on a boulder, blood pooling beneath him. ¡°Stay with me, Vance,¡± Razor urged, quickly applying first aid to stem the bleeding.

    ¡°Heh¡­ at this time, drugs are kinda good. If not, I¡¯d probably scream like crazy,¡± Vance muttered, a weak grin on his face.

    Razor tried to soothe him, but Vance¡¯s eyes fluttered closed as unconsciousness took hold from pain and blood loss.

    When Vance finally awoke, sunlight streamed through a nearby window. He saw Razor sleeping in a chair beside the bed. Content and safe, he took a deep breath, trying to keep quiet.

    Minutes later, Mei and Kirk entered, accompanied by a nurse and a doctor. ¡°So, doctor, am I going to lose my right arm?¡± Vance asked, his voice tinged with anxiety.

    The doctor examined him quickly, then delivered the grim news. ¡°The arm is severely damaged. Based on the X-ray, amputation is likely necessary. The surgery will be delicate and risky due to the injury and blood loss.¡±

    Vance nodded, accepting his fate. ¡°Alright¡­¡±

    After the medical team finished their task, Vance turned to Mei and Kirk. ¡°So, how did the mission go?¡±

    Mei and Kirk reported their findings about the red mist, emphasizing the need for further research. Vance felt gratitude for their dedication and hard work.

    As they shared a lighthearted moment, local news coverage on the TV caught their attention. The screen depicted the Red Army¡¯s new general attacking the Emerald League, showcasing the use of the red mist during the assault on the city.

 Chapter 108 Battle of Tehran

    As the Red Nation¡¯s forces prepared to unleash the red mist, the tension at Zion''s base in Astana was palpable. Kassandra, glancing at the swirling gas on the monitor, raised an eyebrow. ¡°This is kind of a war crime, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Trickster shrugged, a sly smile on his face. ¡°Take it or leave it! We need to capture the Emerald League before the coalition launches another offensive. Besides, its just a Collateral damage. and it¡¯s not technically a chemical weapon. It¡¯s¡­ enhanced pollen. With a few¡­ behavioral modifications. Think of it as aggressive aromatherapy. when they beg to peace. we will over them the anti dote. its pro gamer move!¡±

    Zion stared at the screen, his expression troubled running a hand through his hair. "This changes everything."

    ¡°It does,¡± Kassandra said, her voice firm. ¡°This will turn the entire world against us. We¡¯ll be branded as monsters."

    Zion, feeling the weight of the decision, relented. ¡°Do it! Victory is imminent, and we have nothing to lose!¡±

    ¡°But this will taint our reputation forever...¡± Kassandra warned, her voice filled with concern.

    Zion¡¯s expression hardened. ¡®War is hell, Kassandra. We do what we must to win. The consequences are secondary to our survival.¡¯

    Kassandra shook her head, her voice filled with concern. ¡®But think about the fallout. This isn¡¯t just about us; it¡¯s about the civilians caught in the crossfire. What happens when the world sees this? The Red Nation will be painted as monsters, and we¡¯ll lose any moral high ground we might have had.¡¯

    Zion¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the monitor, the swirling mist reflecting in his eyes. ¡®Moral high ground? In this war? There is no high ground left. Only victory or defeat. We can¡¯t afford to be sentimental.¡¯

    Kassandra sighed, knowing the weight of his words. ¡®But at what cost? If we unleash this, we¡¯re not just fighting an enemy; we¡¯re becoming the very thing we despise. The repercussions could haunt us long after the battle is over.¡¯¡±

    Zion stared at the monitor as the red mist began to spread over Tehran. He understood Kassandra''s fears; committing a war crime could stain their legacy. war crime to minority is less backlash like he do in tribal society in past. but Tehran. its whole new level.

    But a little moral ambiguity never stopped a good conquest, right?

    Fast forward to early December in Tehran. The tranquility of the city shattered as the Red Army advanced, artillery fire echoing through the streets. Families scrambled for safety as panic set in, and the ominous red mist seeped into the atmosphere, forcing the Emerald League to scramble for masks.

    Artillery shells burst overhead, showering the city with canisters that erupted in crimson smoke. Screams and frantic groans echoed through the alleys, buildings, and apartments. The red mist transformed all infected organisms into berserk carriers of an extreme rabies variant. The council ordered the extermination of all animals¡ªbirds, cats, dogs, even sewer rats¡ªto contain the contagion. The streets echoed with the sounds of gunfire and panicked cries.

    Emerald League security forces were forced to subdue infected civilians, resorting to leg shots or tasers. The most agonizing task was putting down beloved pets. While the Emerald League struggled with this grim duty, Red Army tanks rolled along the highways, driving straight toward the capital.

    ¡°We¡¯re doomed! The enemy is advancing! We must hold Tehran at all costs!¡± Crips shouted, his voice barely rising above the chaos.

    The Red Army pushed forward hard, like a giant wave crashing against the city. The Emerald League fought back as best they could, turning Tehran into a mess of rubble and fighting. But they weren''t giving up.

    Kaveh, one of the council members, had retreated to a country house outside the city. The sheer size of the Red Army invasion, and how many they¡¯d already lost, had really hit him hard. He was in shock and betrayed by Zion. It was like¡­ remember how Stalin worked with Hitler to split up Poland, and then Hitler just turned around and invaded the Soviet Union? It was that kind of betrayal.

    But the other council members weren¡¯t giving up.

    In the Lalezar district, the Lions of Lalezar, led by the fierce Kinara, fortified the Grand Cinema, The ornate facade, once adorned with neon lights and art posters, was now scarred by bullet holes and reinforced with sandbags

    Inside the grand auditorium had been transformed into a makeshift command center, with flickering holographic displays showing troop positions and makeshift medical stations set up in the lobby. They set traps, their resolve hardening as they prepared for the inevitable assault.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    But the Red Army was not without its advantages. Heavy artillery and Sentinel exosuits loomed over the Lions, who braced themselves for the onslaught. Kinara rallied her troops, her fierce spirit igniting hope despite the odds stacked against them.

    As the battle raged on, the Grand Bazaar became a deadly maze. The Emerald League launched guerrilla attacks, using their knowledge of the labyrinthine alleys to ambush the Red Army. Narrow spaces hindered the Red Army¡¯s Sentinels, making them vulnerable to Molotov cocktails and hit-and-run tactics.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s make them regret ever entering our territory,¡± Kinara said, her eyes blazing with determination.

    In the Borj-e Milad Museum, the Emerald League and the Red Army raced to secure valuable artifacts, the clash turning bloody. Secret passageways became strategic points for surprise attacks, as both sides fought fiercely for control of the museum.

    ¡°Protect our heritage at all costs!¡± Nigel, a council member, declared, rallying the Lions after witnessing the sacrifice of Phase 3. His words reignited their sense of purpose, reminding them of their commitment to defend the city.

    Meanwhile, operatives scaled the Milad Tower, hoping to disable communications or deploy EMP devices. Red Army Gladiators occupied the observation deck, engaging in brutal close-quarters combat amid rising flames.

    ¡°Control the tower, control the information,¡±

    Underneath it all, the Tabiat Bridge became a sniper¡¯s paradise. Both factions engaged in tense standoffs, targeting each other¡¯s key officers. The stakes were high; civilian spaces became battlegrounds, and the bridge¡¯s destruction symbolized the war¡¯s impact on the city.

    Juggernaut surveyed the museum, , his gaze lingering on a shattered mosaic depicting a scene from ancient Persian mythology. "This place... it''s more than just paintings and statues. It''s a testament to their past, a past they cling to. They fill these places with ideas, with memories of a time before us. They whisper of empires and glories that challenge our rightful place. My ancestor, Genghis Khan, almost carved an empire that stretched from the Pacific to the Mediterranean.¡¯

    he rumbled. ¡°Temples of stolen memories. They fill them with trinkets and tales of their past glories, trying to convince themselves they were ever anything more than thieves.¡± He kicked a broken display case, the shards of glass scattering across the floor.

    ¡°But they¡ªthe Europeans, the colonizers¡ªthey stole what was rightfully ours. They erased our legacy, wrote their own stories on our land. We will not suffer the same fate. We will control the narrative. We will control the future.."

    He kicked a piece of broken marble, sending it skittering across the debris. "Mission accomplished," he grunted.

    A younger soldier beside him looked uneasy. "Sir, was all this really necessary?"

    The Juggernaut didn''t answer directly. He gestured to a half-buried statue, its face chipped and scarred. "They say a nation is defined by its stories. By what they remember. What happens when you take those stories away?" He paused, letting the question hang in the air. erasing the enemy''s history and thus their claim to the land. "They become malleable. They become ours."

    Deep in the labyrinthine tunnels beneath Tehran, Nigel had transformed from a mere symbol to a pivotal leader. On New Year¡¯s Eve, Crips burst into his quarters unannounced, a plate of food in hand.

    ¡°Happy New Year!¡± he exclaimed, a cheeky grin on his face.

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ a fresh chicken fillet? That¡¯s quite an unexpected treat, Crips. But I won¡¯t turn it down.¡± Nigel accepted the plate, savoring the crispy batter and juicy meat.

    ¡°Delicious! Just what I needed after these exhausting days. Though I prefer mine with a side of Red Army tears.¡±¡±

    ¡°Glad you like it!¡± Crips chuckled. ¡°But seriously, you should listen to the council. Don¡¯t lead the raid personally. You¡¯re a high-value target now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± Nigel replied, acknowledging the concern. ¡°I appreciate the warning. The Red Army is definitely gunning for me, so I¡¯ll take the necessary precautions.¡±

    As the battle raged outside, the tension in the air was thick with anticipation. The team prepared to strike back against the Red Army, knowing that every action could be crucial in the fight for Tehran. With their spirits bolstered by camaraderie and determination, they steeled themselves for the challenges ahead, ready to defend their home against the encroaching tide of destruction.

    The stakes had never been higher, and as they faced the chaos of war, one thing was clear: they would fight for their city, their heritage, and each other. But even amidst the explosions and gunfire, some battles were quieter, fought with words instead of weapons. One day, Crips found himself winding his way up a rocky path to Kaveh¡¯s secluded retreat. The place was practically a fortress, guarded by some seriously intense palace guards. Crips, armed with nothing but a folded piece of paper, felt a little out of place. He¡¯d managed to convince them he was on official business¡ªno easy feat considering Kaveh had gone full comms blackout¡ªand they¡¯d reluctantly let him slip the letter under the heavy wooden door.

    kaveh who sit around on his cottage see the letter and read it.

    "Father,

    I''ve been thinking about us. About the past, about the future. I''ve always wanted to know more about you, about our family''s history. I''ve seen the stories, the legends, and they''re inspiring.

    I know you''ve been busy, focused on the war effort. But I think there''s more to life than just fighting. There''s a need for something else, something beyond the battlefield.

    I''d like to spend some time with you, just the two of us. Get to know you on a personal level. Maybe we can share stories, learn from each other. I''m not asking for much, just a chance to connect.

    What do you say? Can we find some time to talk?

    Your son, Nigel"

    then after a while kaveh open the door. and hand a letter to crips. then crips go back to bunker of tehran. and hand it to nigel

    "Nigel,

    My son, I''m glad you''re reaching out. I''ve missed you.

    I understand your desire to know more about me, but the truth is, my life has been a complex one. I''ve made many mistakes, and I''m not proud of some of the things I''ve done.

    However, I want to assure you that I''ve always loved you. You''re my son, and I care deeply about your well-being.

    I''m open to talking about the past, but I want to be honest with you. There are some things that I''m not ready to share yet. But I promise you, when the time is right, I''ll tell you everything.

    In the meantime, I''m happy to spend time with you. Let''s go for a walk, or have a meal together. We can talk about anything you want.

    I''m proud of you, my son. You''ve grown into a remarkable man.

    Your father, Kaveh"

    meanwhile in Kaveh cottage

    He wants to know me? He wants to see the man beneath the mask? There is no man, only the mission. He is my son, my blood, but blood means nothing without loyalty. He must prove himself. He must be strong, unwavering, like steel. There is a ruthlessness in him, I see it. It must be nurtured, honed. The past is a tool, to be used or discarded as needed. Sentimentality is for the weak. I have built an empire on the bones of others. He will either inherit it, or he will become another bone in its foundation. I drink your milkshake, Nigel. I drink it up.

 Chapter 109 Sniper Paradise

    Sarah looked out over the city, now a field of rubble. Only a few familiar landmarks, like the mosque, still stood. A mix of sadness and anger clouded her face. She''d seen war''s destruction before, but this was different.  echoes of gunfire and the occasional wail of a siren. a drone robot then lifting the debris trying find the casualties

    As she surveyed the devastation, Sarah noticed the remnants of homes, their walls crumbling and windows shattered. Children¡¯s toys lay abandoned in the debris. The air was thick with dust and the acrid smell of smoke and chemical, a contrast to the vibrant green eco community that had thrived here just months ago.

    Nearby, a group of civilians sifted through the wreckage, searching for anything salvageable. there was a quiet resilience in their movements. They worked together, sharing what little they had,

    This wasn''t some isolated fight in a wasteland; this was the heart of a city, torn apart. The sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed around her, strengthening her resolve. She made a promise to herself: the Red Army would be pushed back, no matter what it took.

    ¡°Ready, girl?¡± Baker asked, breaking her focus.

    ¡°I was born ready,¡± Sarah shot back, her eyes blazing with fierce determination.

    They began surrounding Milad Tower, now infested with enemy snipers. Sarah scanned the area, spotting one. With a steady breath, she raised her rifle and pulled the trigger. The enemy sniper fell, and Baker quickly issued new orders.

    ¡°New objective! Cover the ground forces as they breach the lobby. Priority: any soldier with anti-tank weapons!¡±

    Sarah nodded, her focus sharpening. She spotted an enemy soldier with an anti-tank weapon and took him out with a precise shot.

    ¡°Good job! First phase complete. Let¡¯s relocate to give them more cover,¡± Baker said.

    As they moved, disaster struck. One by one, the sniper team began to fall, shot by an unknown sniper. Sarah¡¯s determination morphed into rage as she dropped low behind cover, scanning for the source of the gunfire.

    ¡°Get down!¡± Baker shouted, drawing his periscope to locate the enemy sniper. The team deployed decoys to draw attention.

    ¡°Come on, take the bait!¡± Sarah muttered, holding her breath.

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    But the red sniper was too smart. ¡°He¡¯s not taking the bait,¡± Baker grumbled.

    ¡°Great, just great,¡± Sarah gritted her teeth, feeling powerless.

    ¡°I¡¯ll call in an artillery strike,¡± Baker decided. ¡°We¡¯ll flush him out.¡±

    After the bombardment, the sniper team relocated, searching for the red sniper. Sarah¡¯s heart raced as she spotted a flash among the rubble.

    ¡°Baker is down!¡± came the radio call.

    Sarah¡¯s vision narrowed. Baker is down. The thought was a cold spike of pain, but her training kicked in instantly. There was no time for anything else. Her hands, steady despite the sudden surge of adrenaline, adjusted her scope.

    The enemy sniper¡¯s position was pinpointed; a glint of reflected light off their scope lens, a fleeting shadow against the debris. It was enough. She exhaled slowly, focusing on the crosshairs, and squeezed the trigger. The recoil was a familiar jolt against her shoulder.

    After a tense half-hour, the sniper team confirmed, ¡°I think we got him.¡±

    Relief washed over Sarah as she realized they had taken out the enemy sniper without casualties on their side. But then came the grim news: Baker was dead. Shocked, she accepted the reality and took command, determined to honor his sacrifice.

    ¡°Sniper team, we¡¯re heading to the upper area of the tower. We¡¯ll use a decoy to lure out any remaining snipers,¡± she ordered, her voice steady.

    They prepared to take the glass elevator, using the decoy to draw fire. As the elevator ascended, flashes erupted around them, and the sniper team picked off as many targets as they could.

    ¡°Stay sharp!¡± Sarah commanded as they formed a perimeter around the elevator, ready for anything.

    In the chaos of war, Sarah felt the weight of her choices, but she was resolute. They would reclaim the tower, and she would ensure Baker¡¯s sacrifice was not in vain.

    From their vantage point, Sarah''s team became the allied forces'' eyes in the sky. One by one, they eliminated key enemy positions: a machine gun nest pinning down a squad of infantry, a rocket launcher team preparing to fire on an armored vehicle, a medic attempting to reach fallen comrades. With each precise shot, the allied advance gained momentum, the enemy''s resistance crumbling under the sniper team''s relentless pressure.

    This allowed the allied forces to advance with less resistance, and Sarah couldn''t help but feel a surge of pride. The restaurant, museum, and recreational areas were being cleared, meaning no more hidden snipers lurking in the tower''s interior.

    With the tower secured, the remaining snipers, aided by a squad of Emerald League soldiers equipped with powered exoskeletons, hoisted a massive tri-color flag of the Emerald League¡ªgreen, white, and gold¡ªto the top of the Milad Tower. The flag snapped in the wind, a bold statement meant to boost morale. Sarah smiled as she watched the flag flutter in the wind, knowing it would serve as a rallying point for their troops.

    But just as they began to celebrate, a swarm of IED drones from the Red Army aimed for the tower. ¡°Take those drones out!¡± came the command.

    Sarah''s heart raced as she realized the danger. She quickly ordered her sniper team to target the drones, swapping their rifles for machine guns to increase their firepower. The drones were nimble, making them tough targets, but the change in tactics allowed for rapid-fire output, giving them a fighting chance.

    While a few drones managed to strike the tower, causing minor casualties, the smoke rising from the blasts raised concerns. Sarah scanned the area, relieved to see that the intensity of the battle had decreased, indicating that the allied forces were gaining the upper hand.

    However, before sunset, another enemy artillery barrage hit the tower, followed by a red mist that filled the air. Soldiers rushed to put on their masks, but some were too slow and went berserk, turning their weapons on their comrades. ¡°Take those soldiers out!¡± the command barked.

    Sarah recognized the red mist as a gas deployed by the Red Army, and she approved of the order to neutralize the berserk soldiers. The aftermath was chaotic, with the allied forces suffering casualties. Command announced that half their men were lost and that a feast would be held the next day to mourn the fallen.

    On New Year¡¯s night, soldiers distributed cake and chicken fillet, even to the sniper team still taking cover. ¡°We actually celebrate New Year in March,¡± one soldier joked, lightening the mood amidst the devastation.

    Sarah accepted her share with gratitude, reflecting on the fallen comrades who wouldn¡¯t be able to enjoy the celebration. As command honored the sacrifices of the brave soldiers, Sarah raised her glass in a silent toast to Baker, vowing to continue fighting for justice and freedom in his memory.

 Chapter 110 Blue light

    Nara was hiding in what was left of a fancy old bathhouse, a hammam, near the center of old Tehran. Dust was everywhere, and the air smelled sweet and rotten, with a bit of metal mixed in. Sunlight came through big holes in the roof, making long shadows on the floor covered in broken bits. This place used to be beautiful, but now it was just a shelter for people hurt in the war. You could still hear gunfire outside.

    She tightened her grip on her gun, and she started thinking about the academy. That¡¯s where she¡¯d made friends and dreamed about the future. She met Sarah there¡ªsomeone really strong and determined. They¡¯d trained together, wanting to make the world a better place. But now, that future was as broken as the walls around her.

    ¡°Nara?¡± a voice said.

    Nara¡¯s heart jumped. She turned and saw Sarah coming out of the shadows, wearing sniper gear. She felt a mix of relief, happy memories, and a pang of guilt.

    ¡°Sarah,¡± Nara breathed, managing a weak smile. ¡°You look¡­ surprisingly well-adjusted for someone fighting a chemical-induced zombie apocalypse.¡±

    ¡°Neither did I,¡± Sarah replied, concern etched on her face. ¡°You look¡­ different.¡±

    Nara hesitated, the weight of her past pressing down. ¡°I¡¯ve changed. We all have.¡± She gestured to the destruction. ¡°This war¡­ it changes you.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Sarah said, her voice steady. ¡°But I¡¯m still fighting. I¡¯m still trying to make a difference.¡± There was a fire in her eyes that Nara admired but envied.

    ¡°Are you?¡± Nara challenged, sharper than intended. ¡°Are we really making a difference, or just prolonging the inevitable? Look at this place.¡± She waved her hand at the crumbling walls. ¡°We¡¯re fighting for a city that¡¯s already lost.¡±

    Sarah¡¯s expression hardened, tension crackling between them. ¡°You think I don¡¯t know that? I¡¯ve lost friends, Nara. But I can¡¯t give up. Not now.¡±

    Guilt washed over Nara. She had distanced herself from the fight, while Sarah remained steadfast. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know you didn¡¯t,¡± Sarah interrupted, her voice softening. ¡°But you need to understand we¡¯re all fighting our own battles. You¡¯ve chosen a different path, and that¡¯s okay. Just don¡¯t forget who you are.¡±

    Nara¡¯s heart ached. She had buried her past, convinced that detachment was survival. But facing Sarah, she felt her armor cracking. ¡°I¡¯m scared, Sarah. Scared of what I¡¯ve become. Every day feels like a struggle.¡±

    ¡°Then let me help you,¡± Sarah said, stepping closer. ¡°We can fight together. You don¡¯t have to do this alone.¡±

    Nara searched Sarah¡¯s face. ¡°What if I¡¯m not the same person you remember? What if I¡¯m lost?¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll find you,¡± Sarah said, her voice firm but gentle. ¡°You¡¯re still Nara. The girl who wanted to be a hero? That¡¯s still you, deep down.¡±

    A tiny spark of hope flickered in Nara¡¯s chest. Maybe she didn¡¯t have to face this alone. ¡°I want to believe that,¡± she said, her voice trembling slightly.

    Sarah¡¯s face softened into a smile. ¡°Then let¡¯s do it. One step at a time. Together.¡±

    A feeling of warmth washed over Nara. Standing there in the ruined bathhouse with Sarah, it felt like reconnecting with a part of herself she¡¯d thought was gone. She knew it would be a hard road, but with Sarah there¡­

    Sarah started telling Nara about her past in Mexico. "Zion invited our leaders¡ªwe were fighting local bandits on his border¡ªand called us ''Holy Warriors.'' Twenty years later, he invades and annexes us. Suddenly, we''re ''terrorists.''"

    "Classic," someone chuckled. "When they''re on your side, they''re freedom fighters. When they''re not, they''re terrorists. Western media 101."

    Just then, Patrick was suddenly escorted to the med tent. Everyone followed, Nara and Sarah included.

    Patrick tried to get up from the cot after a quick check. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± The medic, unimpressed, placed an oxygen mask on him and continued the examination. A star symbol was visible on Patrick¡¯s chest.

    ¡°A star on the chest¡­ that¡¯s to remind you where you belong,¡± Sarah commented. Her gaze drifted down to his mechanical legs, where the same star was tattooed on his knees. ¡°But when it¡¯s on the knees¡­ that¡¯s a different story.¡± She narrowed her eyes. ¡°That¡¯s about not kneeling before anyone¡¯s law.¡±

    Patrick just smiled faintly.

    Far to the southeast, under the cover of darkness, another operation was starting. The rumble of tank engines echoed across the Kavir Desert. Hazel, poking her head out of her tank¡¯s turret, watched the distant flashes over Tehran. It looked like the fighting there was still heavy.

    The council had been pushing them hard to attack the enemy base at Varamin, so Hazel and Serpent were getting ready to move. Hazel had a plan to flank them from the southeast, a long trek across the desert. Her Buffalo tanks were in a wedge formation¡ªold but reliable¡ªwith Tetsuya¡¯s faster Strider tanks behind them, like the tip of an arrow.

    As they drove across the desert night, Serpent saw flashes of light in the distance and heard the faint rumble of explosions from Tehran. The Red Nation was still attacking, bringing in the new year of 2406 with chaos.

    By midnight, Serpent¡¯s forces were close to Varamin. They passed a small town where people were trying to celebrate with fireworks¡ªa strange, quiet contrast to what was about to happen. Hazel ordered a halt. ¡°Let¡¯s check everything before we go in,¡± she said, looking towards the distant explosions.

    Back inside her tank, she glanced at her crew. Yu was in the back. Anyone could see Hazel was tense. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Even after leading so many attacks, every mission made her hands shake.

    ¡°Serpent, move out¡­ Fire at will,¡± she said, her voice steady but serious. ¡°No mercy.¡± She cut the radio and gave the order to attack.

    Serpent¡¯s tanks rolled into the town, targeting any house with lights on, destroying them. They also took out parked military vehicles and other important spots. In ten minutes, the town was quiet, like no one had ever lived there.

    ¡°Keep the formation!¡± Hazel yelled, making sure everyone stayed in line even with all the chaos. ¡°We¡¯re pushing hard to the main target!¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    As they got closer to Varamin, Hazel saw an enemy Buffalo tank on the edge of the base. ¡°Hah! Another tank battle!¡± she shout. ¡°Tetsuya, take your Striders and go around it!¡±

    With the Serpent attacking first, they filled the air with fire and smoke. However, their initial assault had little effect; the enemy tank returned fire with surprising resilience.

    ¡°Damn it! We¡¯re forced into a fair fight! But with our upgrades, we¡¯re slightly more nimble. Aim for their tracks!¡± Hazel shouted, taking aim at the enemy¡¯s thermal imaging system, hoping to blind them in the heat of battle.

    As the enemy tank stopped firing, Hazel grinned. ¡°That¡¯s it! They¡¯re blinded. Order the sappers to take them out!¡±

    The Strider tanks enveloped the Buffalo, while Hazel¡¯s crew laid down suppressing fire. The enemy tank was now trapped, facing an intense situation as sappers dismounted from their motorized bikes, crawling toward the enemy tank with explosives strapped to their backs.

    When the detonation occurred, a pillar of flame erupted from the Buffalo¡¯s hatch¡ªa terrifying spectacle amidst the chaos.

    ¡°Yu! Record this! Quick, bring your camera!¡± Hazel commanded, urgency in her voice.

    Yu nodded, quickly pulling out her camera and capturing the devastation¡ªthe burning tanks, the chaos¡ªan important record of the brutal battle.

    With a brief respite to check for any surviving enemy forces, they pressed on toward Varamin, attacking any suspected hiding places of enemy troops with ruthless efficiency.

    ¡°This raid is successful. Now head west. Let¡¯s get out of here. Loose formations! Watch for mines along the roads!¡± Hazel ordered, their path clear but fraught with danger.

    By 2:00 AM, they¡¯d crossed the Qanbarabad Wetlands, a swampy area that didn¡¯t seem like a good place for the enemy to hide. Hazel had been smart to take this tough route instead of the paved roads, which were probably covered in mines.

    But just when they thought they were in the clear, an enemy airstrike hit one of the Buffalo tanks, messing up its tracks. ¡°Destroy it! Keep moving!¡± Hazel ordered, her voice calm.

    After a long, hard drive, Serpent¡¯s force reached Eslamshahr by morning, with only a few minor injuries. They¡¯d done what they were supposed to, but the council immediately told them to head for central Tehran. The Red Army was close to taking the whole city. Hazel¡¯s face tightened.

    ¡°City fighting¡­ worst case scenario,¡± she muttered, a bad memory flashing through her mind¡ªthe Wanderer Force¡¯s attack on Hong Kong, and how the Flying Dragon clan was wiped out. Ah, yes, urban warfare. The perfect blend of claustrophobia, exploding debris, and the constant threat of being sniped from a MC Donald. Just what she¡¯d always dreamed of.

    As they drove along the road, they kept their heads down, dodging falling rocks and pieces of buildings. The constant explosions and bullets made bits of brick and stone rain down around them.

    They reached a bridge and spotted enemy tanks. Hazel¡¯s heart pounded. They were going to have to fight. ¡°Some of you, protect the area under the bridge! Don¡¯t let them come at us from the sides!¡± she yelled, knowing how important it was to hold that position.

    The fighting got much worse as they entered central Tehran. Enemy bombs were falling all around the air defense guns in the park, and Serpent¡¯s tanks had to fight hard to defend themselves.

    ¡°We¡¯re sitting ducks here, but we¡¯ll get blown to bits if we don¡¯t find cover! This is going to be tough¡­¡± Hazel said to herself, quickly trying to think of a plan.

    She ordered the tanks to hide among the ruins¡ªbroken walls, fallen trees, anything they could use. ¡°Only shoot at the big targets¡ªdon¡¯t waste ammo on the regular soldiers,¡± she told them, knowing how dangerous things were.

    The explosions were incredibly loud, a constant reminder of how much danger they were in. The crew held on tight, waiting for the battle to start.

    Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away, a signal pierced the static of the global comms network. In a hidden pre-Collapse bunker deep within Siberia, Alam oversaw the activation of a recovered quantum computing core. His engineers, using schematics salvaged from a captured Red Nation data-server in a former Gulag, had finally managed to bypass the bunker¡¯s security protocols. This ancient technology, capable of near-instantaneous communication across vast distances and bypassing even the most sophisticated encryption, was about to change the course of the war. Alam used it to contact Jozen. Despite Jozen in isolated Pacific Ocean in cloaked aircraft carrier, the quantum link bypassed all conventional systems.

    In the command center, Jozen sat calmly at his desk, watching the chaos unfold on a big screen. He seemed completely unaffected by everything that was happening.

    ¡°Hey, Blue Hair, why¡¯s your pirate attacking the Crescent Alliance¡¯s supply lines?¡± Alam¡¯s voice came through the intercom, sounding worried.

    Jozen leaned back in his chair, not bothered at all. ¡°He¡¯s just doing what I told him. He¡¯s supposed to mess up their supplies and cause as much trouble as possible. He¡¯s a good captain¡ªsmart and ruthless. I know he¡¯ll get it done.¡±

    Alam sighed, getting more frustrated. ¡°Come on! We need to focus on beating the Red Nation, not attacking random people.¡±

    Jozen paused, thinking about what Alam had said. He looked at the chaotic scenes on the screen. ¡°If we destroy the Red Nation completely, it¡¯ll cause even more chaos. The big powers need to stay balanced. If they all start destroying each other, things will get really bad.¡±

    ¡°But isn¡¯t this chaos better than massive chaos?¡± Alam countered, his voice rising slightly.

    Jozen nodded, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. ¡°You have a point there. But I still believe that keeping the current situation in check is preferable.¡±

    ¡°Then help the Emerald League! Destroy Red Nation¡¯s air dominance!¡± Alam urged, his tone almost pleading in mask of boldness.

    Jozen considered the request, weighing the potential consequences. ¡°I will think about it. I need to consult my advisors and assess the situation carefully before making a decision.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ heh,¡± Alam replied, a hint of mischief in his voice.

    Jozen chuckled, a lightness breaking through the tension. ¡°You¡¯re quite the cheerful one, Alam. It¡¯s refreshing amidst all this political maneuvering.¡±

    ¡°Sure! If the world stage were filled with boring people, no one would read this story,¡± Alam quipped, grinning.

    ¡°True enough,¡± Jozen laughed. ¡°The world is full of self-important folks. It¡¯s nice to talk to someone who doesn¡¯t take themselves too seriously.¡±

    ¡°So, what¡¯s your endgame? You want to conquer the world too?¡± Alam asked, a playful glint in his eye.

    Jozen smiled at the question, amusement dancing across his features. ¡°My goal is to bring peace to this world. It may sound idealistic, but I truly believe it¡¯s possible. I envision a united world working towards a shared purpose for humanity¡ªwhere conflict is replaced by cooperation.¡±

    ¡°Good! You¡¯re a bit like Zion, but more handsome,¡± Alam teased.

    Jozen laughed heartily at the compliment. ¡°That¡¯s quite kind of you. Zion and I share goals, but our methods differ. I prefer understanding and compassion over domination.¡±

    ¡°Ha! Good. Now destroy their airfield. Time is ticking,¡± Alam urged, the urgency returning to his voice.

    Jozen nodded, determination flashing in his eyes. He moved swiftly to his desk, making calls and issuing commands. The Blue Nation''s naval forces began to mobilize toward Red Nation¡¯s airports and bases. Jozen''s gaze remained fixed on the screen as the forces approached their targets.

    ¡°You seem impulsive. How old are you?¡± Alam asked, his curiosity piqued.

    Jozen chuckled lightly. ¡°I¡¯m much older than I look. My age isn¡¯t important; I¡¯ve lived through several lifetimes of experience¡ªan ancient warrior who¡¯s seen many battles, including the Great War and The Great Flood.¡±

    ¡°I see. I must meet your plastic surgeon!¡± Alam shot back, laughter bubbling in his voice.

    Jozen roared with laughter. ¡°Good luck with that! I doubt any surgeon can turn back time. My longevity is a testament to all the struggles I¡¯ve endured. Wisdom and experience trump any doctor¡¯s skills. Besides, who says I even want to be younger?¡±

    ¡°Do you still consider yourself human?¡± Alam pressed.

    Jozen shrugged. ¡°That depends on your definition of ¡®human.¡¯ I¡¯m still organic, but I¡¯ve experienced more than most. My existence is an anomaly. I¡¯ve lived for centuries, so my perception of reality is quite different. Am I still human? I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    ¡°Hm, I hope that after the war ends, I can meet you in person again. I want to pinch your cheek¡ªmy punch wasn¡¯t hard enough yesterday!¡± Alam said,

    Jozen laughed again. ¡°If you really want to do that, we can arrange it after the war. But I warn you, my cheek isn¡¯t as soft as it looks. I¡¯m still a warrior.¡±

    ¡°Good! Me too¡­ kind of. Farewell!¡± Alam replied, his tone lightening.

    ¡°Farewell. Let¡¯s meet again when the wars are over,¡± Jozen said, smiling as he ended the call.

    Suddenly, the night sky over Tehran was ripped apart by streaks of cerulean light. High-altitude interceptors, their sleek, delta-winged forms unlike anything the Emerald League had seen before, descended from the stratosphere. They fired bursts of energy weapons, vaporizing Red Army fighter jets in mid-air, leaving only trails of ionized particles in their wake. A message crackled over the comms: ¡°This is the Blue Nation banger. We are here to enforce the peace.¡±

    Jozen then look at ruan mei hologram ai behind him ¡°i think we should develop the red mist cure.. you the one who make it.. so.. please, double times the effort¡±

    Ruan mei hologram turn into grin ¡°im just your ai slave now.. so there is nothing i can do except follow your order isnt?¡±

    Jozen nod ¡°you better do it. or i remove your sarcastic personality on your ai¡±

    Ruan mei laugh ¡°oh. i know you like my personality.. anyway.. since im just collection memory of her. i only represent 80% of true knowledge. so.. expect about backlash it later!¡±

 Chapter 111 Red Rose

    After the blue jets attacked, the Red Army bombardment lessened significantly. The city was quieter, though distant skirmishes could still be heard. In the park area, things were relatively calm.

    Later that night, Coalition reinforcements arrived, a welcome surprise for Serpent¡¯s crew. After the intense fighting, they finally had a chance to rest.

    Hazel climbed onto the tank and picked up her guitar, strumming a relaxing tune. Inside, the rest of the crew were trying to sleep or unwind. It was a peaceful moment.

    ¡°Like Liu Bei in ancient days, sworn to fight for his land / With Guan Yu and Zhang Fei strong, a righteous, rebel band / But hearts grow heavy with each life lost, each city left in flames / A hero''s duty burns so bright, yet leaves behind deep stains...and blood.¡± Jreng.

    Tetsuya, still awake, asked, "Who are those names you were singing about? Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei?"

    Hazel smiled. "They''re from an ancient Chinese story. Liu Bei was a righteous general who fought for his land and people, with his sworn brothers, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei. They were considered warriors of virtue and honor, symbols of justice for their time. Their stories might be forgotten by many, but their deeds still inspire."

    Tetsuya recognized the names. "Wait, those are characters from that game, right?"

    Hazel chuckled. "Yeah, they''re popular in video games and manga. I figured you might recognize them."

    Patrick, due to his modified body, didn''t really need to sleep and used this time to patrol the area. He was with the scout team, patrolling the ruins for enemy snipers or small groups, occasionally taking them out. He moved constantly in the dark, his night vision picking out any enemy hiding among the rubble.

    At 04:00, while patrolling, Patrick heard the distinct sound of three colossal artillery strikes. The explosions erupted, creating a huge fireball and a shockwave that even Patrick felt from a distance. He rushed back to Hazel''s position, checking for damage and casualties.

    Morning revealed the devastation. A crater marked where Hazel''s tank had been, shrapnel scarring the surroundings. The ground was scorched and glassified. Patrick and his scouts surveyed the wreckage, finding several lifeless bodies. A few survivors groaned in the dust-choked air.

    Tetsuya was pulled from the wreckage, dazed but alive. A field hospital was hastily set up nearby. Hazel was missing. Then, Gazz, the mascot dog, began barking insistently at a pile of rubble. Yu, recognizing his urgency, joined him, digging. They uncovered Hazel. She was unconscious, injured, and covered in blood.

    She stirred as they pulled her free, her eyes fluttering open. "I¡­ I think¡­" she managed, her voice weak. "I think this is it."

    The soldiers around her were grim. They could see the extent of her injuries. Medics rushed to her side, but the situation was dire; she was losing blood rapidly.

    Hazel looked at them, a faint, almost wry smile touching her lips. "Well," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Don''t just stand there. Someone should probably¡­ read Three Kingdoms or something."

    Her gaze drifted towards the rising sun, her breathing shallow. The medics worked frantically, but it was clear there was nothing more they could do. A moment later, she was gone.

    Weeks later, after the battle, Hazel and the other fallen soldiers were laid to rest in a graveyard west of Tehran. The council held a memorial for the high-ranking officers. The common soldiers and unknown combatants were buried in a more modest section. Hazel''s gravestone simply read: "Someone should probably¡­ read Three Kingdoms."

    One morning, Patrick found Yu at the graveyard, sweeping the ground near Hazel''s grave, Gazz beside her. She¡¯d been there for hours. Patrick approached her. ¡°We need a crew,¡± he said. ¡°And a leader.¡±

    Yu stopped sweeping, her expression blank, processing everything. Her response was quiet but firm. ¡°I know. We lost so many¡­ Hazel¡­¡± She paused, then continued, her voice gaining strength. ¡°But we have to keep fighting. We can¡¯t let them win.¡±

    She would lead the team. It would be difficult, but she was ready. From the devastation of loss, life finds a way to continue, to heal, to connect. Well, life also finds a way to get you patched up and back on the battlefield, apparently. In the underground hospital beneath Tehran, the air smelled of disinfectant and faint floral soap.

    Tetsuya lay on a makeshift cot, his bandaged arm throbbing. Across from him, Hana, a young medical student volunteering at the front, adjusted his IV drip. Though clearly new to this, her focused movements and gentle touch were reassuring."How are you feeling, soldier?" Hana asked, her voice barely a whisper,A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    "Much better, thanks to your magic touch, Miss... Nightingale," Tetsuya replied, a playful glint in his eyes despite the grimace from his wound.

    Hana blushed, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Just Hana, please. And it''s not magic, just standard field protocols. Though, we''ve had to improvise a lot with the limited supplies," The fluid wasn¡¯t a direct healer; it contained genetically engineered microorganisms that acted as beacons for repair drones, guiding them to damaged tissue.

    "Basic or not, it feels pretty magical coming from an angel like you," Tetsuya persisted, his voice turning husky.

    Hana chuckled, shaking her head. "You soldiers and your charms. I''m afraid they won''t work on me."

    "A challenge, is it?" Tetsuya raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Perhaps I haven''t met the right doctor yet."

    "Perhaps," Hana countered, her gaze softening as she met his. "But before you start prescribing love potions, tell me about yourself, captain Tetsuya. What brings a charming man like you to this war?"

    Tetsuya sighed, the playful facade momentarily fading. "Duty, mostly. And... purpose. We all have something to fight for, don''t we?"

    His gaze drifted towards the the flower in vase at corner of room. "We lost our leader yesterday," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. "A good man, a mentor, a brother-in-arms. It leaves a hole, you know?"

    Hana placed a comforting hand on his good arm. "I understand," she said softly. "Loss is a constant companion in these times. But remember, he wouldn''t want you to dwell on it. He''d want you to keep fighting, to honor his memory."

    Tetsuya looked at her, his eyes searching hers. "You seem to know him well, this leader of mine."

    "Not personally," Hana admitted. "But the way you speak of him, the grief in your eyes... it speaks volumes."

    A warm silence settled between them, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. In that shared moment of understanding, a connection sparked.

    "So, Hana," Tetsuya finally said, his voice regaining its usual lilt, "when this war is over, perhaps I can show you a city not ravaged by conflict. A city where laughter and hope still echo in the streets. Would you allow me to be your guide?"

    Hana smiled, "Perhaps, Captain. But on one condition: no more love potions."

    Tetsuya chuckled, "As you wish, Doctor Hana.¡±

    The memory of his fallen leader remained a constant within Tetsuya''s heart, a reminder of the cause they fought for. Yet, Hana offered him a different kind of strength, a glimpse of a future where laughter and love could bloom again, not despite the ruins, but within them. From the ruins of the city, from the shared grief and the quiet moments of connection, new possibilities emerged.

    News of the victory, and the losses, traveled across the ravaged world, reaching even the distant Xian Palace. Alam stepped back into Baihu¡¯s waiting arms. in the heart of the Xian Palace. The air in the courtyard, once reserved for imperial ceremonies, now hummed with the quiet thrum of advanced climate control systems and the soft glow of holographic lanterns that mimicked the warm light of traditional paper ones.

    Baihu practically vibrated with excitement. ¡°Master, you¡¯re back! Did you miss me? Tell me everything!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I missed you,¡± Alam replied, trying to play it cool, but he could feel the warmth creeping in. ¡°But a lot has happened¡­¡±

    ¡°Yaaay! You missed me! Spill the tea, love! But first, how about a little reward for your hard work?¡± Baihu teased, winking at him.

    ¡°Alright, but why do I always feel something warm when I¡¯m near you?¡± Alam joked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Oh, my love~ It¡¯s definitely your loving caresses filling my heart with warmth! I¡¯m the queen of the world, and this moment is pure gold! What a lucky wife I am!¡± Baihu beamed, practically glowing.

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯m just me, you know?¡± Alam chuckled, feeling a bit bashful.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be modest! You¡¯re everything to me, my precious Master!¡± she cooed, leaning in closer.

    ¡°Can we just cuddle for a bit?¡± Alam asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

    ¡°Ooohh~ Yes! Come here, Master! I love you!¡± Baihu exclaimed, pulling him in for a warm embrace.

    ¡°Why am I becoming a dad? Hehe,¡± Alam said, half-laughing, half-worried.

    ¡°Yes, my love! You¡¯re going to be a daddy soon! I¡¯m so excited!¡± Baihu squealed, practically bouncing with joy.

    ¡°You really want to be a mom?¡± Alam asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Absolutely! I was born to be a mom! Giving you our baby is every woman¡¯s dream!¡± Baihu replied, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

    ¡°Master, will you wrap your arms around me and whisper sweet nothings? I¡¯m getting all excited!¡± she said, her voice dripping with affection.

    ¡°Is that what women want? To be a pillow?¡± Alam joked, trying to lighten the mood.

    ¡°Hey, I don¡¯t know what other women want, but I want you to hold me tight! If you call me a pillow, I¡¯ll be the happiest pillow ever!¡± Baihu giggled, her playful spirit shining through.

    ¡°Alright, you fit me perfectly,¡± Alam said, smiling. ¡°But can I talk about something? It might ruin this moment¡­¡±

    ¡°What is it, my love? If it ruins the moment, I won¡¯t stop you!¡± Baihu replied, her curiosity piqued.

    ¡°I¡¯m just worried about stopping my adventures if I have a kid and all that responsibility,¡± Alam confessed, his tone turning serious.

    ¡°Afraid? Why? I¡¯ll be the best mom ever! I promise our little one will be happy, no matter how far you are!¡± Baihu reassured him, her determination shining through.

    ¡°Does that make me a bad father?¡± Alam asked, his brow furrowing.

    ¡°Master, there¡¯s no way you could be a bad father! You¡¯ll be the best! I trust you completely!¡± Baihu said, her voice filled with warmth.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re strong, but¡­¡± Alam started.

    ¡°Oh, so you think I can handle this? I¡¯m lucky to have a wise and caring Master like you! I¡¯ll take good care of our child; it¡¯s my duty!¡± Baihu declared confidently.

    ¡°Well, I just hope they¡¯re not like us,¡± Alam joked, chuckling.

    ¡°What? If our kid is like us, we¡¯d be the happiest parents ever! Strong and brave like you, kind and loving like me!¡± Baihu exclaimed, her excitement infectious.

    ¡°Hey, what do you mean?¡± Alam poked her nose playfully.

    ¡°You¡¯re an ex-rogue general, and I¡¯m just a warlord. I want to see something gentler in the future,¡± he said, sighing.

    ¡°We¡¯ve changed, Master! We found love and built something beautiful. Our child will reflect that strength and kindness!¡± Baihu replied, her eyes shining with hope.

    Alam looked at her, a genuine smile finally breaking through his worries. ¡°I never thought¡­ i ending like this.¡±

    Baihu squeezed his hand. ¡°We are a force of nature, my love. The world trembles before us. And now¡­ we will create a legacy that will last for generations.¡± She took his hand, her smile widening. ¡°Now, come. My chambers await. I have prepared a feast worthy of a returning hero.¡±

 Chapter 112 Coastal take down

    The war dragged on, and then, the news came. It hit Nara like a punch to the gut: Nigel was dead, killed by Red Nation artillery. A wave of shock and sadness washed over her. Even though things hadn¡¯t worked out between them, she still cared. Memories of him, both good and bad, flooded her mind, making her heart race.

    Just as she grappled with her emotions, another message arrived. A coalition led by the Golden Caravan from europe, after finishing their rebels ¡°red nation proxy¡± they ready to help emerald league.

    was preparing to launch an amphibious assault through the Caspian Sea, aiming to relieve the siege of Tehran.

    meanwhile in border of emerald league with Great chaliphate (black nation) a mobile fortress. a big squarish metal box with wheels. used to be a mobile base.

    Inside, a group of men and women dressed in dark robes, veils, and masks were gathered. Some of them had glowing eyes, and you could see hints of mechanical enhancements beneath their cloaks. These were the Hornets, the Caliphate¡¯s elite special operations unit.

    Hornet Leader,man with extra mechanical arms on his back. broke the news to Nara. ¡°This is wonderful news! This coalition will destroy the Red Nation¡¯s military base in Persia, easing our mission on two fronts.¡±

    Nara felt a spark of excitement ignite within her. ¡°So, you¡¯ll send us a squad for the land operation, and we¡¯ll send ten squadrons of Hornet elite through the Caspian Sea to land in Emerald?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Hornet Leader affirmed, his voice resolute. ¡°We¡¯ll join forces in Persia and destroy those Red scum together. Do you understand?¡±

    Nara nodded, her focus sharpening. ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll take care of the coastal guns. I won¡¯t let those weapons threaten our coalition¡¯s assault.¡±

    Laila, another officer nearby, smiled slightly at Nara¡¯s determination. ¡°I¡¯m assigning you one of our best Hornet elites as your partner. His code number is 622, and his name is Ahmed. He¡¯s highly skilled.¡±

    With a deep breath, Nara felt her tension ease slightly. ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll work as a team with Ahmed and ensure our success.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Laila said, her voice grave but encouraging. ¡°You are one of our best soldiers, and I believe you can complete this mission. Just remember to take care of each other and return to base safely.¡±

    Nara saluted, confidence swelling within her. ¡°I won¡¯t fail this mission. I¡¯ll protect my partner with my life.¡±

    As Nara prepared to depart, Wazir turned to Laila. ¡°Why do you trust her so much?¡±

    Laila met his gaze. ¡°I trust her because she¡¯s a soldier I can count on, no matter how tough the situation. What about you? Do you believe in her?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Wazir replied thoughtfully. ¡°She reminds me of her grandfather, Hejaz himself.¡±

    Laila raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°Her grandfather? Who is he?¡±

    Wazir explained, ¡°One of Hejaz¡¯s daughters ran away with a mercenary. Nara is their child¡ªa product of their forbidden love.¡±

    Laila¡¯s eyes widened with realization. ¡°So, this is the truth behind Nara¡¯s origins. Her loyalty and skill as a soldier come from that rebellious blood. I should have guessed sooner.¡±

    As they parted ways, Nara met her partner, Ahmed, a tall figure clad in black balaclava. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you, Nara,¡± he said, his tone firm. ¡°Let me be clear: I don¡¯t care about your background or that you¡¯re a woman. I¡¯ll treat you like any other soldier.¡±

    Surprised but emboldened, Nara smiled. ¡°I appreciate that. I¡¯m not afraid of being treated as an ordinary soldier.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± 622 replied, opening the armory door to reveal an array of weapons, from traditional firearms to the most advanced tech.

    Nara¡¯s eyes widened in awe. ¡°Wow.¡±

    ¡°Pick your favorite, but I advise you to grab something silent,¡± 622 said.

    Nara considered her options and selected a futuristic automatic gun and a sniper rifle, attaching a silencer to the latter.

    ¡°I read your report,¡± Ahmed said, his expression serious. ¡°You have poor coordination. How about this instead?¡± He presented her with a silenced submachine gun.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Nara felt a twinge of disappointment at the critique but nodded. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll try the SMG instead.¡±

    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s see how you handle it on the firing range,¡± he instructed.

    Nara took the SMG and headed to the range. After a few bursts, she hit the target, not perfectly but enough to build her confidence. With each shot, she grew more comfortable with the weapon, finding her rhythm.

    ¡°Not bad for an ex-Zion bodyguard,¡± Ahmed remarked, a hint of approval in his voice.

    Nara smiled, though a hint of frustration lingered. ¡°I¡¯m not just an ex-Zion bodyguard. I¡¯m a loyal soldier for the coalition. If you doubt me, I¡¯ll prove myself during tomorrow¡¯s mission.¡±

    With determination burning in her chest, Nara felt ready to face whatever challenges awaited them on the battlefield. The stakes were high, but she was prepared to fight for her allies and the cause they believed in.

    February 2406: A Mission Ignited

    As dawn broke on the day of the operation, the team boarded a small plane, its engine humming ominously. They skillfully dodged searchlights as turbulence rocked the cabin, sending jolts through Nara¡¯s body.

    ¡°Is this plane supposed to shake this much?¡± she wondered aloud, gripping her seat. she remember her time on pasific with bastard brigade. but their plane is more stable.

    ¡°Welcome to military aviation!¡± Ahmed quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

    Nara¡¯s stomach churned at the violent vibrations, and when she heard a strange noise from the engine, her anxiety spiked. Just then, the light turned green¡ªa signal to jump.

    622 gave her a thumbs-up before leaping into the abyss. Nara returned the gesture, then took a deep breath, closing her eyes to calm her racing heart. She recalled Hornet Leader¡¯s advice from earlier and opened her eyes,

    The sensation of free-falling gripped her as she plummeted through the sky, the wind whipping against her face. Panic tightened her chest, but she fought to keep her focus. At last, she deployed her parachute and felt the sudden jerk as it opened, bringing her safely to the ground.

    With a thud, she landed and rolled to her feet, adrenaline still buzzing. She quickly scanned her surroundings and spotted 622, who had already taken out a pair of guards with clean, silent shots.

    ¡°Nice work!¡± she exclaimed, a smile breaking through her nerves as he helped her detach her parachute. ¡°Did they even see you coming?¡±

    ¡°They saw¡­ the ground,¡± 622 deadpanned. ¡°Let¡¯s move.¡± He gestured forward. They moved through the shadows, using the cover of the crumbling seawall and the skeletal remains of abandoned fishing trawlers to avoid detection.

    Finally, they reached their target: a massive coastal defense battery, its reinforced concrete pillbox studded with heavy rail cannons and automated targeting systems that swept the sea with searchlights. There were¡­ a lot of them.

    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s a beast,¡± Nara murmured, awe evident in her voice. The sheer size of the turret sent a chill down her spine.

    622¡¯s voice cut through her thoughts. ¡°There are a lot of them. And intel suggests they keep building new ones.¡± He narrowed his eyes. ¡°Something¡¯s fishy.¡±

    ¡°We need to take the initiative. We can¡¯t destroy that from the outside. We have to go in.¡±

    Nara nodded, her mind racing with plans. They needed to infiltrate the pillbox and plant explosives inside. As they prepared, 622 quickly disabled a nearby sensor with an EMP grenade, showcasing his efficiency. Nara couldn¡¯t help but admire his skill.

    ¡°Let¡¯s breach that door,¡± she said, giving it a solid kick. The door swung open with a loud creak¡­ revealing the inside of the turret¡­ which was completely empty. And made of what looked suspiciously like fiberglass.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± Nara muttered, poking the barrel of the cannon. It wobbled. ¡°It¡¯s a¡­ plastic gun?¡±

    622 sighed. ¡°Of course some of them are decoys. Our intel¡­ needs an upgrade. We must find the real ones, Nara.¡±

    They jogged along the line of batteries, checking each one. Finally, they found a turret that looked¡­ different. More solid. The barrel, viewed through 622''s thermal goggles, showed a distinct heat signature.

    ¡°That one¡¯s been used recently,¡± 622 confirmed.

    They approached silently. This one was definitely real. The metal was cold to the touch, but the lingering warmth from the barrel was palpable.

    Inside, chaos erupted as soldiers spotted them. Gunfire erupted, and Nara¡¯s instincts kicked in. Together, they fought their way through, knowing they had limited time before reinforcements arrived.

    ¡°Cover me! I¡¯ll plant the explosives,¡± Nara shouted, and as she dashed inside, she spotted a control room filled with monitors. A teenager, clearly shocked at her sudden appearance, froze.

    Nara seized the moment, drawing her silenced SMG. Before he could alert anyone, she fired, the shot echoing softly in the room.

    ¡°Sorry, kid,¡± she muttered, moving deeper into the pillbox. She soon found the giant cannon and the ammunition stockpile nearby. A small control panel caught her eye, and she hurried over to investigate how it operated.

    After planting the explosives, she rushed back to 622, who was holding the door against a wave of enemy soldiers.

    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s move to the next objective,¡± he said, handing her a detonator. ¡°Do it when you¡¯re ready.¡±

    Nara felt a rush of excitement as she gripped the detonator, knowing she held the fate of their mission in her hands. With a steady breath, she pressed the button.

    A massive fireball erupted, lighting up the night sky and sending shockwaves through the ground. The explosion was followed by a cascade of blasts from other teams as they took out their targets. Nara couldn¡¯t help but grin; the sight was awe-inspiring¡ªa beautiful chaos that illuminated the darkness.

    ¡°Good. Now we can rest for a moment because in the morning, we join the attack,¡± 622 said, his tone surprisingly calm after the chaos.

    Nara nodded, a sense of satisfaction washing over her. As the adrenaline began to fade, exhaustion set in. She realized she needed to recharge for the challenges ahead.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get ready,¡± she replied, her heart full of determination. With the thrill of victory still fresh, Nara was ready to face whatever came next.

 Chapter 113 Other Light in tunnel, A Feast for the Senses

    The war raged. The Red Army pushed forward, but the Emerald League refused to break. Zion himself moved between fronts, trying to bolster morale and exploit any tactical advantage.. the emerald league despite lost of half his 3/4 territory still stubbornly resist the invasion and refuse to capitulate.

    In the not-so-distant future, a shadowy figure known only as Wraith plotted his next move,  His plan was audacious, rooted in the twisted tactics of Japanese WWII strategists, but with a modern, absurd twist.

    ¡°Let¡¯s smuggle drugs into this land,¡± he declared to an empty room, his voice echoing back like a ghostly affirmation. ¡°We¡¯ll keep the populace blissfully ignorant and high, while we roll in like a band of merry marauders! And the best part? We¡¯ll label it forbidden fruit! Delicious irony, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± He chuckled to himself, picturing the citizens stumbling about in a haze of euphoric stupidity.

    But Wraith¡¯s whimsical vision took a dark turn when the infamous Red Mist is not longer effective, coalition is more frequently using a gasmask, and the bright color of red is too obvious to miss, Time to get creative.. he just dip the various mischilinous on red mist liquid. the plan is to infect the animals. and do the infection job for them

    then wraith plane,. From its belly, it released a shower of rice, strands of hair, and the unmistakable stench of rotten meat. ¡°A feast for the senses!¡± Wraith cackled as he watched the chaos unfold below.

    The city became a quarantine zone, not because of barricades or soldiers, but because of something far stranger. A wave of manic energy swept through the population, turning the streets into a bizarre, never-ending party. The city was effectively neutralized; no sane army would risk entering.

    In the Emerald League¡¯s council chambers, the mood was tense. It was clear this wasn¡¯t just a random outbreak. Wraith¡¯s strategy was becoming clear: isolate Tehran by creating a ring of infected cities.

    ¡°It¡¯s the fleas, the rats, and the birds,¡± Councilman One exclaimed. ¡°We must burn the entire city to the ground!¡±

    ¡°Burn our culture?¡± Councilwoman Two gasped. ¡°We can¡¯t do that! What about the annual cheese rolling festival?¡±

    ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s like the bubonic plague but with a lot more glitter and jazz hands,¡± Councilman Three chimed in, rolling his eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s just close the borders and call it a day!¡±

    Meanwhile, back in his lair, Wraith watched the council¡¯s dysfunction with bemusement. ¡°Advanced warfare,¡± he muttered, shaking his head. ¡°Nukes are child¡¯s play! Why destroy our future infrastucture? We can just remove the rats!¡±

    As the war raged on, fate took a turn for the absurd. Wraith¡¯s lab, nestled in the rugged terrain of Afghanistan, met an unexpected demise at the hands of some very disgruntled locals. thanks to CAD team  and the wanderers effort.

    ¡°Those people destroyed my factory! How rude!¡± Wraith exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exaggerated disbelief at empty room

    ¡°Well then, let¡¯s go old school! Time to unleash the vintage bomb! Because why not blow things up in style? It¡¯s like a retro party, but with more shrapnel!¡± He grinned,

    ¡°Classic bomb it is! Because why not blow things up in style?¡±

    After losing the bio lab, Wraith moved his operations to Central Asia. He was trying to stop the Coalition from pushing further, since this area was a key link between North America and the parts of Asia they¡¯d already taken. Meanwhile, Zion was leading the charge against the Emerald League in North Persia.

    Duc, a tired Red Army soldier, crouched in a muddy trench at a place called Iron Hill. It was a depressing spot, full of bunkers and wrecked old tanks. Above him, his commander¡ªa gaunt, almost ghostly figure¡ªwas ordering them to build a new defensive position. They were using tank wrecks and¡­ mummified bodies. Apparently, the intense radiation had left a lot of them intact. It was a crazy idea, but it actually worked as camouflage. Still, even the toughest soldiers found it creepy. Duc thought it was a sick joke that their commander was called Wraith.

    The soldiers¡¯ mood kept changing. When they were feeling good, they were like a well-oiled machine, carefully placing mines in no man''s land. But when morale was low, things got¡­ messy. They¡¯d just toss explosives around like kids scattering toys, wanting to get the job done and get back to the safety of the trench.

    Duc, as their commander, didn¡¯t argue much. He knew most of them were just kids who¡¯d been pulled off the streets and thrown into the war. He understood¡ªhe¡¯d been a street kid himself before ending up in the gladiator arena.

    He looked out across no man¡¯s land. It was quiet now, a mix of mud, dead bodies, and twisted metal. Even with the gruesome view, it was almost peaceful compared to when the enemy was attacking. He chewed on his rations, trying not to think about the scenery.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Suddenly, the ground shook violently. Duc, seated on the edge of the trench, felt the earth lift him from his seat, while those standing collapsed like marionettes with their strings cut. A violent blow slammed into his stomach and head, and then¡ªdarkness. The door of their makeshift bunker resonated like a giant gong, signaling doom, as a cloud of dust and acrid smoke enveloped them, searing their throats and nostrils.

    Silence fell, heavy and oppressive. No one dared to breathe a word as they listened to the ominous rumble of earth raining down on their shelter. After what felt like an eternity, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake.

    The Iron Hill had taken a beating; by the end of the war, it would have shrunk by thirty meters. Duc surveyed the grim landscape: lines of trenches and mass graves stretched before him.

    From his squads of nine, only four remained. The sight was overwhelming, while new from craters bombardment large enough to swallow a train marred the ground.

    After hours of hellish waiting, Duc took a deep breath and began to reorganize his troops, He glanced back at the steel mansion they were supposed to defend, a behemoth of rust and despair. A thought nagged at him¡ªwhy not just retreat?

    "What''s the point?" he muttered, looking around at the ruined fortress. "We''re not heroes. We''re just holding the line until someone else shows up." He gave a dark chuckle. It all felt pretty pointless.

    D-Day: February 2406

    Dawn broke over the Caspian Sea. The coalition forces were ready to attack, a huge landing to try and save Tehran. The air was thick with excitement. Planes, paratroopers, and ships filled the horizon, heading towards the shore. The plan was bold: land in several places, cut off the Red Nation''s supplies, and create a strong base.

    As soon as it got light, the fighting started. The landing forces met heavy resistance from the Red Nation, bullets flying everywhere. Nara, in the thick of it, felt a rush of adrenaline as she charged forward. The beach became a chaotic mess of sand and fighting.

    By evening, the coalition had made progress, taking some ground and pushing inland despite the Red Nation''s constant attacks. "This is going to take a while," Nara muttered, wiping sweat and dirt from her face.

    As they moved closer to Tehran, they had to fight in the city. Every step was a struggle. The city of Babol was just ahead, but it felt miles away. "We''ll get there," Nara told herself, pushing on with her comrades. "We have to."

    The battle for Babol got even more intense. But day by day, the coalition started to win. They heard reports that the Red Nation was running low on supplies and getting weaker. There were even talks of surrender. The coalition tightened its hold on the city. Nara felt a spark of hope. Could they actually win?

    Then, in the middle of all the chaos, came some unexpected news: Nigel was alive. He was trapped near Gol Pasha, trying to break through the Red Army¡¯s lines around Tehran. Hearing this made Nara¡¯s heart race. She couldn¡¯t believe it.

    ¡°622,¡± Nara said, her voice steady despite the mix of feelings inside. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°New mission,¡± he replied. ¡°We¡¯re escorting a VIP. A few Hornets are leading the rescue.¡±

    Nara nodded, a spark of excitement rising in her. ¡°We¡¯re getting him out?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it. Quietly. This is important. It could change everything,¡± 622 said, his voice serious.

    ¡°Understood,¡± Nara said, feeling determined. This wasn''t just another job; it was personal. She had to make sure Nigel was safe.

    As they got ready, Nara thought about seeing him again, the relief on his face. We¡¯re going to get him back, she told herself.

    Early March 2406, Tehran Underground Bunker

    Deep beneath Tehran, in the reinforced concrete bunker that served as their makeshift command center, the news was grim. The Red Nation propaganda machines were working overtime, broadcasting across all remaining channels: ¡°Tehran has fallen. The council is in custody.¡± Jammers blanketed the city, cutting off most communication with the outside world. Moving through the ruined streets was a death sentence, thanks to constant artillery fire and lingering pockets of chemical agents¡ªlikely a mix of the now-ineffective Red Mist variants and newer, more potent compounds.

    The only way to send messages out was through cloaked runners they to slip past sensors and patrols under the cover of darkness. These messages, however, were slow and unreliable.

    The council meeting was tense. Supplies were running dangerously low, and contact with their scattered forces was sporadic. News of the coalition¡¯s landing at least offered a glimmer of hope, but they were spread too thin to capitalize on it.

    Nigel cleared his throat, the weight of the situation heavy on him. ¡°We need to establish a direct link with the coalition. I propose a small, high-speed team breaks through to Madaran.¡±

    A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. Nigel, despite the recent losses, was their best chance. He had the skills, the experience, and the sheer audacity to attempt such a risky maneuver.

    On the coalition side, the Hornets, including Nara, received a priority transmission. Using a secure quantum entanglement communicator¡ªa pre-Collapse relic capable of instantaneous, untappable communication¡ªthey received precise intel on Nigel¡¯s location: a small village near Gol Pasha.

    Nara felt a surge of excitement. She might see him within hours. She compulsively checked her gear¡ªher silenced ballistic pistol, her thermal vision goggles, and the micro-drone she carried for reconnaissance¡ªmaking sure everything was in perfect working order.

    The team held a quick briefing, finalized their equipment checks, and boarded a sleek, tiltrotor aircraft. The aircraft took off smoothly, then transitioned to forward flight, quickly covering the distance to their drop zone. They landed a few kilometers from the village in a secluded valley, then switched to all-terrain hover bikes¡ªsilent and fast, ideal for navigating the rough terrain. The landscape was surprisingly beautiful, a stark contrast to the war-torn cities; colorful wildflowers lined the paths that wound through rolling hills and valleys.

    As they approached the village, they deployed several micro-drones to scout ahead, establishing observation points and scanning for Red Nation activity. As dusk began to settle, they moved in, splitting into smaller teams for better stealth. Nara led her team towards the villa indicated by the intel. It was now 6 PM, and the adrenaline was starting to flow. She double-checked her equipment one last time, making sure everything was ready for what lay ahead.

    By 10 PM, they still hadn¡¯t found Nigel. The team regrouped, trying to figure out what to do next. Nara felt a wave of anxiety. Had the intel been wrong? Was this the wrong place? She looked at her team, hoping they had some answers.

 Chapter 114 Dilemma

    The sun had barely set when Nara¡¯s team gathered in the shadows of a derelict building, strategizing for their next move. The air was thick with tension as they decided to reach out to potential informants within the nearby village. Just then, a ranger and a tourist guide from Lar National Park signaled them with Morse code using a flashlight from the rooftop of a hotel.

    ¡°Must be our informant,¡± 622 said, his voice low and firm. ¡°Move out.¡±

    The team cautiously entered the hotel and made their way to the top, where the ranger awaited them on the balcony.

    ¡°I can help you find Nigel,¡± the ranger said, urgency lacing his voice. ¡°But you need to assist us first. Red Nation soldiers have taken most of the villagers hostage, including my wife, at the town center. You must free them!¡±

    622¡¯s brows knitted together, frustration evident. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for that. Just tell me where Nigel is, and the coalition forces will liberate this village.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand!¡± the ranger insisted, desperation creeping in. ¡°The Red Army wants to slow down the coalition by taking hostages. You have to help us!¡±

    Nara noticed 622¡¯s grip tighten on his dagger, anger flaring in his eyes. She realized he was torn; while he wanted to rescue Nigel, the ranger made a valid point.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he relented, his tone shifting. ¡°Where and how many?¡±

    The ranger sighed in relief. ¡°Just a few blocks from here. There are about 22 of them, armed with rifles, and one jeep parked at the town center.¡±

    ¡°Great. We¡¯re just five, including one bait,¡± 622 said, glancing at Nara. ¡°Ranger, you¡¯ll be the bait. The rest of us will flank the building.¡±

    The ranger nodded, quickly arming himself. Nara felt a rush of adrenaline as they devised a plan. The stakes were high, but the urgency of their mission pushed aside any doubt.

    Once outside, they took positions, with the ranger drawing attention to himself near the town center. The rest of the team concealed themselves, ready to block any escape routes.

    ¡°On my mark, we breach the door,¡± 622 instructed, and together, they began their ascent.

    After taking down a few guards, they breached the rooftop door and descended the staircase. The sounds of chaos filled the air as they approached the hall where the hostages were kept.

    ¡°Bring the lights out,¡± 622 commanded, and the team outside cut the power, plunging the building into darkness. ¡°Kill anyone carrying a gun.¡±

    A flurry of gunfire erupted as they cleared the room, adrenaline pumping through Nara¡¯s veins. She felt a surge of relief when the last armed soldier fell, but the tension remained thick in the air.

    Suddenly, a female voice broke through the chaos. ¡°They took my sister! She¡¯s in the bathroom! You have to help her!¡±

    Nara¡¯s heart sank at the urgency in the woman¡¯s voice. ¡°622, there are still hostages in the bathroom!¡± she exclaimed, glancing at him.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do this,¡± he replied, drawing a flashbang. Nara¡¯s stomach churned at the risky move, but she trusted 622¡¯s judgment.

    Without hesitation, 622 kicked the bathroom door open and tossed in the flashbang, which detonated with a blinding flash and deafening bang.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Go!¡± he shouted as he rushed in, but a soldier was waiting, wrapping his arms around 622 in a chokehold. Nara¡¯s instincts kicked in; she aimed her weapon at the soldier and fired before he could tighten his grip.

    The soldier dropped, and the blood splattered across 622¡¯s uniform. A girl emerged from the bathtub, wide-eyed and terrified. Nara rushed to her, attempting to offer comfort.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid! We¡¯re here to rescue you!¡± Nara said, her voice soothing.

    622, wiping blood from his face, added, ¡°You¡¯re safe now.¡±

    The girl, still shaken, ignored Nara¡¯s outstretched arms and instead hugged 622 tightly. He was taken aback but wrapped his arms around her, offering silent comfort. He didn¡¯t understand why she chose him, but he didn¡¯t mind.

    At 04:00, the situation was under control. The ranger informed the team about Nigel¡¯s location, a remote villa nearby.

    622 waved goodbye to the grateful girl, who tried to hug him again, but he pulled away, donning his balaclava. ¡°We¡¯ve got to move,¡± he said.

    By 06:00, the team adjusted their plans for the assault on the villa, using diversionary tactics to create an opportunity to advance.

    When they launched the assault at 08:00, the air was thick with tension. They took down Red Nation guards strategically, minimizing civilian casualties as they pressed forward.

    After an intense firefight, they found Nigel¡¯s hiding place but discovered he was injured and unconscious.

    ¡°It looks like they were in a last stand. If we had gone sooner, we might have saved everyone,¡± 622 said, frustration evident. ¡°At least the VIP is still breathing.¡±

    By 12:00, they secured the villa and provided medical aid to Nigel, preparing for extraction. Red Nation reinforcements were closing in, forcing them to retreat quickly.

    At 14:00, they fought their way back to the extraction point, covering each other and protecting Nigel.

    When the helicopter arrived at 16:00, they embarked under heavy fire, taking off just as the Red Nation forces drew near.

    Back at base, Nara looked at 622, who sat silently, staring at his untouched meal. She took a seat across from him, the weight of the mission hanging in the air.

    ¡°What if we had forced the ranger to locate Nigel sooner?¡± 622 mused, his eyes distant. ¡°We might have saved more lives.¡±

    Nara considered this, a frown creasing her forehead. ¡°If we had, we could have avoided all of this chaos. It¡¯s a good thought, but we did what we could.¡±

    In the days that followed, the coalition forces marched through Mandaran, moving to link up with the Emerald League in Tehran. However, 622¡¯s absence was palpable, and unease settled over Nara¡¯s team.

    Then, out of nowhere, a dirt motorcycle zipped past their Humvee, and the team¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief. It was 622, back in action. Relief washed over them as they waved at him, their spirits lifting.

    After a few kilometers, the convoy stopped in a quiet area, a perfect spot for a debrief. 622 seemed troubled, his brow furrowed as he spoke.

    ¡°I pray to Allah that we have no regrets. We saved lives yesterday, which is a good deed. But it will haunt us if we let the villagers be massacred.¡±

    Nara nodded, understanding the weight of his words. They had fought bravely, but the shadows of war loomed large, reminding them of the lives still at stake.

    meanwhile in tehran. At serpent division. During the planning stages of the next course of action, Major Yu, Captain Patrick, and Adam were discussing the plans for the next move. The crew of tanker, who are now without the guidance from the leader, are watching a puppet show near the refugee camp with a group of children. It is a small event to entertain the children but this small group of soldiers watching it seems to enjoy it as well..

    The puppet show is telling the story of the brave and intelligent young woman "Malak", who was being tested by a mischievous jinn. As the story goes on, the girl outsmarts the jinn in various tasks and the jinn, desperate to win her affection, played a cruel trick on her.

    The Jinn, frustrated by Malak''s constant rejections, decides to play a cruel trick. He transforms himself into an old peddler, carrying a basket overflowing with gold coins. He approaches Malak, pretending to be lost and seeking help. He offers her a single gold coin as a reward for guiding him home. Malak, known for her kindness, agrees to help.

    As they walk, the Jinn, still disguised, keeps dropping more and more gold coins, pretending clumsiness. Malak, despite the temptation, doesn''t pick up any of the coins. Finally, reaching the Jinn''s supposed home, the Jinn reveals himself, expecting Malak to be dazzled by the scattered wealth.

    But Malak, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, points out that the Jinn dropped exactly 100 coins, the same number as the steps they took to reach his house. She accuses him of testing her honesty, not needing help at all. Faced with her sharp deduction and unwavering integrity, the Jinn is forced to concede defeat, his trick backfiring spectacularly.¡±

    The soldiers, who were watching the puppet show, seem to be unsure about the true meaning of the story. One of the soldiers asked, "What meaning of this story?" in a puzzled tone, as if the moral of the story is still unclear to them.

    The puppet is continuing to perform its act in front of the children and the soldiers, but the soldiers seem to have difficulty understanding the true meaning of the story. However, their enjoyment of the puppet show still remains even despite the confusion of the story being unclear to them.

    Patrick, who was wandering on a mountain at the north of Tehran when he was not joining the raid, happened to come across a village where he found a vet treating a wild animal. most of them is can seen in cage because the red mist things

    This was an unexpected sighting as the vet was not only treating the wild animal but also providing much needed care to it,

    Patrick, curious about the current situation of the vet and his work, asked, "Who pays you while doing this?" The vet who is an old man replied, "No one." Patrick was surprised by this answer, as this meant that the vet is doing this purely out of his kindness and good will, without being paid or funded by anyone else.

    Patrick, still unsure about the vet financial situation, asked, "where did you get those med at first place then?" The vet, who is an old man, replied, "Before the war, I used to have a pet shop at the south of Tehran. After the bombardment, all is gone, so here I am. I am surviving by using my medicine spare and skill to treat those poor creatures that got caught between the crossfire of the war."

    Patrick, being curious about the vet''s situation and why he is not just waiting until after the war so that he could use his spare medicine and skill to make business again, asked the question, "why not wait until after the war is over and then use your spare medicine for making business again later?" The vet, who is an old man, just laughed at the Patrick''s question and went back to treating a small bird with broken wings. The vet, though being amused by Patrick''s question, remained focus on his work and dedicated to the treatment and healing of the wounded animals.

 Chapter 115 Search for Old World

    As the war approached its final phase, a sense of inevitability hung in the air. The Blue Nation found itself at the center of an unexpected alliance between the True Horde and the Purple Nation, a coalition that set its sights on a bold mission: a commando unit was dispatched to strike Toronto, one of the capital cities of the Free Nation.

    Navigating through the remnants of what was once Washington, D.C.¡ªnow transformed into a seashore due to rising sea levels¡ªJozen''s submarine moved with precision, evading detection by the Red Nation. The vessel glided silently through the submerged city, passing the George Washington statue, a haunting relic now shrouded beneath the waves.

    At last, they arrived at their destination: Toronto, where the Mammoth Base awaited, a notorious black site that held secrets crucial to the unfolding conflict. The recent raid on a Wraith base in Afghanistan hinted at a possible cure for the Red Mist.

    then their submarine is expertly park on one once warehouse in underwater. soon the diver get out from the submarine. commandos then arrive are dock area at night.

    the free nation are in martial law, they are still recovering from the revolution. the street is empty. the drone patrolling the street. with jammer and cover of night commandos the bypassing the guard drone.

    They reached the heavily guarded building. The attack began. Explosions they¡¯d planted earlier rocked the bridges connecting Toronto to the mainland. When Free Nation reinforcements scrambled to aid Mammoth Base, the commandos detonated the charges, sending trucks and tanks tumbling into the icy water.

    ¡°quick! we must hijack their sam! the free world aircraft will arrive soon¡± one commando instruct while they fight room to room in office.

    bora then plant the breacher on the door ¡°ready!¡± then followed by explosion by breacher. the door is turn into a smoke. the commandos with the accurate shot kill anyone on the control room. li who among them show the sick kungfu move amid the chaos. by taking down one guard.

    Inside the control room, monitors displayed a global map, showing incoming aircraft. One commando swiftly connected a cable to a terminal, beginning the hack of the SAM system. A progress bar appeared on the screen, slowly filling. ¡°Come on, baby¡­¡± he muttered. The others kept watch, weapons trained on the door. After a tense few moments, the hack completed. The SAM sites across the region sprang to life, targeting the incoming aircraft. The blips on the monitor vanished one by one.

    A small cheer went up. ¡°Yeah!¡± Li and Bora exchanged a quick high five.

    one commandos lower his mask and speak ¡°we not done yet. lets go¡± bora and li then turn into serious again. then the commandos go to the underground area.

    They entered a round hall surrounded by pillars, with a symbol of two tusks etched into the center floor

    in there they greet by the magog soldiers. a mutated super soldier. magog himself positioned him in center with armed with gatling gun.

    the commandos is pinned down, the pillar and wall start to crumbling from the bullets.

    ¡°damn.. we cant bypassing them. this is the only way to go to lab!¡± li then draw his last flashbang granade while taking cover under relentless fire.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°no not yet.. ¡° bora gesture her hand ¡°wait when he reload his big ass gun¡± li then nod.

    the commandos is one by one is start take a hit by the relentless fire. the magog gatling gun start piercing the wall. give commandos little protection on the room. until the magog gun turn into a red. by overheating. then its jam. then li loop his last flashbang,

    the a loud sound can be heard. then all commandos start rising from their cover. and charge. but the supersoldier somewhat not effected by the flashbang. they start open fire too. the fight turn into a chaotic brutal gun fight in the room,

    magog then quickly draw his pistol after his gun overheat. then he meet by li who charge him. then they to fight in hand to hand combat, magog and li mag turn into empty.

    Magog, despite his massive size, moved with an incredible speed that caught everyone off guard. He was a hulking beast of a soldier, but he danced around the chaos like a predator, his movements fluid and precise. Li, on the other hand, was smaller and more agile, a martial artist trained to take down opponents with finesse. But as he faced off against Magog, he felt the pressure mounting, the weight of the situation closing in on him.

    Bora crouched behind a pillar, her heart racing as she watched the two combatants clash. She gripped her gun tightly, her finger itching to pull the trigger. But the intensity of the fight made it hard for her to aim. Every time she thought she had a clear shot, Magog would move, his speed making him a difficult target. She hesitated, torn between the need to help and the fear of hitting Li.

    Bora, taking cover behind a shattered pillar, tried to find an opening. The fight was too close, too chaotic. Then, a stray shot from one of her own team hit Li. He staggered, falling to the ground. ¡°Li!¡± Bora cried out. Magog roared in triumph.

    The commandos, fueled by rage and desperation, unleashed a concentrated barrage of fire on Magog. The super-soldier finally collapsed, his body slumping onto his overheated Gatling gun. The room fell silent.

    The remaining commandos, grim-faced, moved towards a single elevator. Bora lingered for a moment, a pang of guilt hitting her. If I¡¯d shot sooner¡­ She shook her head and followed the others.

    meanwhile bora. bit self blame. she think if she can shot magog more early. li must be still alive at this moment. The thought weighed heavily on her heart as they descended into the underground area.

    As they entered the pristine lab, the atmosphere shifted. They passed transparent glass rooms, each one housing grotesque humanoid bodies lying unconscious on beds. Some had skin that resembled wood, while others glowed with strange gems embedded in their flesh

    ¡°they grow a fucking gem from the human¡± one commandos eyes widened while his hand lean on the transparent wall.

    bora then notice if each room is not maintained by human. but by a machine. a giant robotic arms is take care each creature in the room. until the commandos reach the center of lab. which a terminal full with keyboard and monitor. used to monitor each creature experiment

    one commando then browse the lab terminal. then a ruan mei face as ai on screen she guide commando team to explore the document and research like a tour leader, when its in loading screen. a white nation symbol can be seen. the commandos shared a glance. noticing if the the tech is definitely from originally the white nation.

    then in there they see a Eva project. a project to observe the 4,8 billion earth evolution. in monitor they see a various amoeba creature. to a jelly fish. mushroom. to a even dinosaur dragon.

    the sight was eye opening even for battle harden commandos in room.

    ¡°they trying to force evolution human kind... ¡° one of commando look at monitor

    bora narrow her eyes. ¡°not just that. ¡°she then browse files on the terminal ¡°showing the fungi species who on the list. among them there is a the same fungi species who cause outbreak at ww3¡±

    ¡°i will damned..¡± bora said, seeing the revelation. the commandos just stood there. noticing the world end in past just because this group of scientist who centuries later being overseer by the ai. The monitor continued to display the evolutionary timeline of the Eva project,

    The commandos had witnessed the birth of life, As they traced the evolution of these creatures, a chilling realization dawned upon them: humanity itself was merely another experiment, another pawn in a cosmic game. The war, once a battle between nations, now seemed a petty squabble compared to the existential threat, a creature is in begining of time is struggle to survive. eating each other to just see the other day. a earth rotation.

    and to see a other year. a earth circling the sun. a giant hot ball stuff. 4.8 billon year later. god created human kind. various war broke between human. just mimicking the countless creatures before them. but unlike the animal who fight for food. human fight not just for food. but for idea.. and other abstract things

    The commandos returned to the submarine, their minds heavy with the weight of the truth. They had succeeded in their mission, finding the cure for the Red Mist, but the knowledge they had gained would forever haunt them.

    black site. sometimes the realities is scarier than fiction, The search for answers, the struggle against overwhelming odds, these were battles fought on many fronts, from the depths of the ocean to the arid deserts of Central Asia.

 Chapter 116 Battle of Ashgabat

    As April dawned in 2406, the coalition forces, bolstered by the intel gathered from the Mammoth Base, successfully linked up with the Emerald League, preparing for a counterattack against the Red Army.

    and the coalition now start find a cure for red mist problem. and reduce the damage, its not from fancy chemical or high tech. but from soil,

    soil is teeming with million of different micro organisms that produce lots of potentially therapeutic compounds, including new antibiotic

    so we dont need to like kill every animal because we fear their saliva. we just need wash our body and rub it with a dirt, with that Gazz is save from purge. after the council found the solution.

    In the arid expanses of the Dasht-e Kavir desert, Nara''s team was tasked with intercepting retreating Red Army forces rumored to be carrying valuable loot through the small village of Bar Andaz-e Sar-e Namak.

    ¡°Captain Tetsuya reporting for duty, ma¡¯am,¡± Tetsuya saluted, despite his leg still bandaged.

    Major Yu blinked, momentarily speechless. She was taken aback by the salute, feeling a mix of pride and awkwardness. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you¡¯re able to join us,¡± she replied, smiling despite herself.

    With the team gathered, they set off towards their objective, trudging through the searing heat of midday. The sun beat down mercilessly, and the sound of artillery and airstrikes echoed in the distance.

    ¡°Nothing like a stroll in the desert to warm the soul,¡± Patrick quipped, wiping sweat from his brow.

    ¡°Just keep your eyes peeled,¡± Yu reminded him, her tone serious. ¡°We need to be ready for anything.¡±

    After several tense hours, they spotted the enemy convoy in the distance, creeping closer with every cautious step. The team held their breath, knowing that one misstep could reveal their presence.

    As they approached, the Red Army soldiers began to notice them, gunfire erupting as some vehicles attempted to escape. ¡°Stay calm!¡± Yu commanded, her voice steady. ¡°We need to cut off their retreat!¡±

    Under her leadership, the serpent team swiftly engaged, utilizing shrapnel and explosives to disable the enemy vehicles. Nara¡¯s heart raced as adrenaline surged through her. They were winning¡ªthe enemy was faltering, and soon the soldiers began to surrender, hands raised in defeat.

    ¡°Take them alive!¡± Major Yu ordered, cutting through the cheers of her men. ¡°We need information.¡±

    Captain Adam, one of the more hot-headed members of the team, grumbled, ¡°But ma¡¯am, after everything they¡¯ve done to us, they don¡¯t deserve to live.¡±

    Yu remained stoic, still focused on the mission. ¡°We need to know where their reinforcements are coming from. This isn¡¯t about revenge; it¡¯s about strategy.¡±

    After a quick interrogation, the convoy driver revealed that they were merely conscript soldiers from Central Asia, forced into service. Nara felt a pang of sympathy. ¡°They¡¯re just kids, like us,¡± she murmured, realizing the complexity of the war.

    As the coalition forces prepared to push toward Ashgabat, they launched a large-scale offensive, caught off guard by the Red Army¡¯s weak defenses. The operation began at 04:00 with artillery bombardments, followed by ground forces storming the city at dawn.

    The fighting was fierce. By 12:00, the coalition struggled against the elite ¡°Free Revolutionary¡± division, suffering heavy losses.

    ¡°Keep pushing!¡± Nara shouted, her voice barely audible over the chaos surrounding them. ¡°they not free revolutionary. they are the ODF!. oil defender force!¡±

    At 02:00 on the second day, as the coalition encircled the Citadel, 622 flashed a question at Nara amidst the din of gunfire. ¡°Are any of your friends from the arena still alive?¡±

    Startled by the question, Nara met his calm gaze, feeling the weight of his inquiry. ¡°Most of them are still my friends,¡± she replied, her heart racing. ¡°We stay in touch. Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s it like fighting your own friends?¡± 622 pressed, his tone serious.

    Nara hesitated, the intensity of the moment crashing over her. ¡°Fighting friends is¡­ complicated,¡± she admitted. ¡°It¡¯s hard to see them on the other side. That¡¯s why I usually go solo. Companionship brings attachment, worry, and feelings I¡¯d rather avoid.¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    622 nodded, understanding her unspoken fears. ¡°Just remember, in war, it¡¯s not always black and white. Sometimes you have to fight for what¡¯s right.¡±

    As the battle raged on, Nara felt her resolve strengthen. They were in this together, and despite the chaos, they would fight for each other and for the future they all believed in.

    By early April, the coalition forces had successfully linked up with the Emerald League, setting the stage for a coordinated counterattack against the Red Army and their ¡°Free Revolutionary¡±

    the Alam mud launcher, and white nation camouflage tech is prove to effective to repel red army tanks. they now are had chance

    The sun beat down mercilessly as Nara and her team prepared to intercept retreating Red Army forces rumored to be transporting valuable loot through the small village of Bar Andaz-e Sar-e Namak.

    News of the coalition encircling Ashgabat spread like wildfire, drawing global attention. The Red Army, feeling the pressure, unleashed their clone of ¡°Magog¡± supersoldiers¡ªterrifying figures that turned the tide of battle.

    ¡°Do your friends include them too, Nara?¡± 622 asked, his voice steady amid the chaos.

    Nara blinked, her mind racing. ¡°No, they¡¯re definitely not my friends. They¡¯re the enemy,¡± she replied firmly. ¡°We have to stop them from reaching Zion.¡±

    ¡°What if one day we find ourselves fighting each other because of politics?¡± 622 pressed, his gaze unwavering.

    Nara met his eyes, the weight of his question sinking in. ¡°If that ever happens, yes, I would have to break our friendship. It would be painful, but in war, you fight the enemy, no matter how difficult.¡±

    622 chuckled lightly, reloading his magazine. Nara felt a flush of annoyance; she couldn¡¯t tell if he found her response amusing or serious.

    <hr>

    As the battle raged on, the Holy People Council unleashed their own super soldiers, known as the ¡°Sacred Band.¡± A fierce confrontation erupted in the north of Ashgabat, setting the stage for an epic clash between the Magog and Sacred Band forces.

    With the coalition forces launching a final assault on the Ancient Palace¡ªZion¡¯s presumed last stand¡ªalam winter campaign is block zion retreat route in north, and coalition is already surrounded the region. if they win this battle. war will end soon. but if not, the red army in north american reinforcement will arrive and bring more death and destruction for all both side.

    the fighting grew increasingly intense. They faced fierce resistance from Zion''s elite bodyguards, who not only fought with skill but were armed with chemical bullets that could send anyone into a berserker rage.

    ¡°This is our time, Nara,¡± 622 said, his voice steady. ¡°We¡¯ll go through the sewers and attack Zion¡¯s bunker beneath the palace.¡±

    As they maneuvered through the tunnels, the coalition forces broke through the wall, finding themselves surrounded by treasures and traps. Gold coins and priceless artifacts glittered in the dim light, but danger lurked in every corner.

    then they fight in palace hall. when amazon praetorian guard is wait for them. the fight is fierce. both side armed to the teeths, and both are elite of their respective nation. but they had a number. which now not in red army side. The team fought room by room, inching closer to their objective as the resistance grew fiercer. Just when it seemed they might break through,

    until a flame erupt on the hall. then a man with exosuit armed with flame thrower, burn a anything on his path. until nara who covering on pillar shot his google. the man then return attack on nara position. and she dodge it at last moment.

    the man then recognize nara movement. and open his helmet a bit. its was a Fredrick, the same gladiator nara fight in grid arena. ¡°we meet again little girl. now i had chance to burn you into a toast!¡±

    nara smirk. ¡°hah!. i dont had time for you¡± she start open fire again. but Fredrick exosuit harmless on nara bullet. nara then keep dodging and run a circle. hoping flanking him and attack on his vulnerable position. until the radio on her ear bark a command ¡°get out of there. we are overwhelmed by enemy. air strike will commence soon!¡±

    ¡°what the fuck.we are still inside!¡± nara reply

    ¡°its cant be helped. its not from our side. but from blue nation¡±

    nara then peek at Fredrick among the pillars, she must fast defeat Fredrick for good. she then took a bat on the museum display. its belong to legendary player. which nara cant spell its name. nara will plan to just use her brute force. but then when she trying charge fredrick. a missile from ceiling hit him on direct hit. his exosuit and flesh turn into a red splat. an explosion rocked the corridor, sending Nara tumbling into a quieter, isolated part of the palace

    Disoriented but determined, she found herself face to face with two armored guards. Her heart raced as she realized her SMG wouldn¡¯t be enough against them.

    Despite sustaining a few hits, Nara pressed on, trying to disarm one of the guards. She shot frantically at his helmet until, with a lucky shot, the glass shattered, and he dropped dead.

    With one guard down, she turned her weapon on the other, who, seeing her superhuman ability, dropped his gun and raised his hands. He pointed silently to a door, and Nara had no choice but to follow his direction.

    After opening the door, nara saw an unexpected sight for her. Sitting at the desk, facing her was none other than the Zion himself. Her eyes widen in surprise at the sight of him. they are face with each other again, but in a much different situation than before.

    Zion is now sipping on his tea while facing nara at his desk. his face remains calm and he seems unconcerned about the tense situation outside his bunker. he is the leader and enemy of Nara and now they are sitting facing each other on different situation. Nara is surprise by the sight of him. she was not expecting this. zion just keep sip his tea while maintaining his calmness and showing no emotion whatsoever.

    Zion suddenly narrow his eyes at Nara, recognizing that she was one of his ex bodyguard who now become a rebel and join his enemy. he seems to be sizing her up.

    Zion and Nara continues to stare at each other in this intense and tense situation. both of them knows who the other is and the current situation is indeed a delicate one. it seems that neither of them is giving in easily and there is an air of tension that is palpable between them.

 Chapter 117 End of all War

    Keith stood in the command office, the atmosphere tense. The room was dimly lit, with flickering screens casting shadows on the faces of the high-ranking officers present: Trickster and Kassandra. Outside, the distant sounds of conflict served as a reminder of the chaos beyond their walls. Meanwhile, the other Wardogs, including Juggernaut and Weaver, were engaged in a endless battle in the south.

    ¡°Zion¡¯s forces are trapped in the northern Emerald League,¡± Keith stated, his voice steady but laced with urgency. ¡°The True Horde has cut off their route. That means no soldiers, no food, and no munitions. We must initiate an airlift to maintain our supply chain.¡±

    He leaned over the map spread across the table, tracing the lines of their dwindling resources with his finger. ¡°If we¡¯re going to make this work, we need to convert our Boomerang bombers into airlift transports. We can¡¯t afford to neglect the European front; we need to support Juggernaut and Wraith to break through.¡±

    As he spoke, Keith glanced at Kassandra and Trickster, who exchanged looks, avoiding his gaze. Frustration bubbled within him. ¡°You...¡± he started, his voice low, but the anger simmered just beneath the surface as he regarded them. Their silence spoke volumes.

    Trickster intertwined his fingers, a nervous smirk playing on his lips. ¡°The circumstances in the field aren¡¯t in our favor. Perhaps it¡¯s time for our forces to... rest.¡±

    Kassandra nodded, her expression unreadable. ¡°We¡¯ll send medals with the next airlift to our soldiers,¡± she added, her tone casual.

    Keith¡¯s face flushed with indignation. The weight of their words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

    Once he was gone, Kassandra and Trickster exchanged glances, their sinister grins revealing a shared understanding of the precarious situation they were navigating.

    Kassandra simply nodded, her expression still unreadable. It¡¯s unfortunate, but necessary.then she start take a spoon of avocado on nearby bowl

    Elsewhere in the bunker, a crackling radio broadcast cut through the tense silence. Nara and Zion, locked in their own silent standoff, both turned their attention to the distorted voice. "...supply lines cut... heavy losses reported... situation critical..."

    Nara¡¯s eyes narrowed. She glanced at Zion, who remained infuriatingly calm, sipping his tea as if the world wasn''t falling apart. The juxtaposition of his calm demeanor against the news felt surreal. The air was tense, but he remained composed, waiting for Nara to make a move.

    Suddenly, a massive explosion rattled the bunker, sending a tremor through the ground that made Zion¡¯s teacup quiver. He continued to sip his tea, seemingly unfazed by the chaos outside, while Nara watched him in silence, lost in thought.

    Just then, a team of coalition spec ops burst into the room, guns trained on Zion, creating an instant standoff. ¡°Get down! Hands in the air!¡± 622 shouted, urgency in his voice.

    Zion complied, slowly raising his hands, his expression still calm. He was a picture of serenity amidst the storm, though the concern in his eyes flickered like a candle in the wind.

    But in an instant, the situation escalated. Zion drew a his fire axe and swiftly dispatched the first spec ops member who tried to handcuff him. The speed and agility he displayed were shocking, leaving the other team members scrambling to react.

    The others reacted instantly, but Zion was already using the fallen body as a shield, firing the downed soldier''s own weapon. It was a brutal, efficient dance of death.

    Nara stood frozen, her heart racing as she witnessed the brutal efficiency of her former employer. It was like watching a nightmare unfold in real time.

    As the last of the spec ops collapsed, Nara felt a wave of disbelief wash over her. ¡°This can¡¯t be happening,¡± she whispered, her mind racing. Zion, ever composed, resumed sipping his tea as if nothing had occurred, the stark contrast of his calmness against the chaos around him pushing her to the edge.

    In that moment, a memory flared to life¡ªher grandfather, Hejaz, entrusting her with the promise to bring Zion''s head back. The weight of her duty settled heavily on her chest. Adrenaline surged through her veins, igniting a fierce determination.

    With a primal scream, Nara charged at Zion, her eyes blazing with fury. ¡°You¡¯ll pay for what you¡¯ve done!¡± she yelled, swinging her bat with all her might. The first hit struck Zion¡¯s shoulder, and he stumbled back, caught off guard by her ferocity.

    Zion attempted to defend himself, raising his axe, but Nara was relentless. ¡°You think you can just sip tea while everything crumbles around you?¡± she spat, her bat a whirlwind of destruction as she rained down blow after blow.

    Zion''s composure began to crack, his defenses faltering under the onslaught. He tried to parry her swings, but each strike sent shockwaves through his body, knocking him off balance. Nara¡¯s rage fueled her strength, transforming her into an unstoppable force.

    The close-quarters combat erupted into a brutal ballet of violence. Nara poured every ounce of her fury into her strikes, and Zion, weakened by the relentless assault, struggled to raise his arms to defend himself.

    As the fight reached its climax, the sound of the battle outside faded into the background. Nara''s focus was singular; she was determined to see this through. Each swing of her bat felt like a cathartic release, each connection a step closer to fulfilling her promise.

    Finally, Zion, battered and bloodied, collapsed under the weight of her unyielding assault.

    The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by Nara¡¯s ragged breathing. Outside, the echoes of gunfire and explosions gradually subsided, replaced by the shouts of soldiers securing the bunker. A young soldier, no older than twenty, hesitantly approached, his face pale. He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. ¡°Is¡­ is he¡­?¡±

    Nara simply nodded, unable to speak. The soldier¡¯s eyes widened, a mixture of disbelief and relief washing over him. He turned and stumbled back towards the doorway, shouting, ¡°He¡¯s down! Zion¡¯s down!¡± The cry was taken up by others, spreading like wildfire through the bunker, a ragged cheer erupting from weary throats.

    But in Nara¡¯s ears, it sounded hollow. She looked down at Zion¡¯s lifeless form, a strange emptiness settling in her chest. The weight of Hejaz¡¯s promise, finally fulfilled, felt strangely light, almost meaningless

    The news of his death would ripple through the coalition forces, a turning point in the battle for Ashgabat., the coalition forces erupted in celebration, their morale soaring as they recognized the significance of this victory. Though the battle raged on, the death of Zion was a beacon of hope for them, signaling a shift in the tides of war.

    Outside, the fighting had died down. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of gunpowder. Coalition soldiers were moving through the bunker, checking for survivors. The news spread quickly: Zion was dead. A cheer went up, but it was a weary cheer, the sound of men who had seen too much. The death of a leader, though a strategic victory, often leaves a void that is difficult to fill. While some celebrated victory and others mourned their losses, life continued, demanding new beginnings.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    weeks pass, As the remnants of the Red Army began to surrender or flee Ashgabat, sporadic skirmishes erupted across the city. The Coalition forces secured control, declaring victory on May 2nd, but the aftermath revealed widespread devastation and immense loss¡ªboth military and civilian. The Battle of Ashgabat marked a pivotal turning point in the war, weakening Zion''s grip on power. While the Coalition celebrated their hard-fought victory, the road ahead remained fraught with challenges.

    Kassandra, now the leader of the Red Nation following Zion''s death, faced a grim reality. As the Coalition forces advanced, her orders became desperate. With the threat of extinction looming, she authorized the use of nuclear weapons, a last resort to intimidate the Coalition and stave off further incursions into Red territory. The tension escalated as both sides awaited the other''s response, the air thick with uncertainty.

    In the midst of this upheaval, Nigel, the war hero of the Emerald League, proposed a world conference. After long discussions filled with passionate debates, world leaders reached a consensus: they would halt expansion into Red Nation territory and focus on rebuilding instead. It was a collective realization that continued fighting would only lead to more destruction.

    at distant winds, Xian palace chamber, Alam held Baihu close as they lay on the bed, their eyes locked onto the tiny miracle between them¡ªtheir daughter. The soothing sounds of her coos filled the room like a gentle melody, and fatigue washed over Baihu like a warm tide lapping at the shore.

    ¡°They say a mother¡¯s love splits after having a child,¡± Alam remarked, his playful tone contrasting the gravity of his words.

    Baihu chuckled softly, shaking her head. ¡°That¡¯s nonsense. My love for you has only grown. You¡¯ve been my rock through everything.¡±

    He kissed her forehead, warmth radiating from his touch. ¡°I hope so. You both are my world.¡±

    A fire ignited within Baihu at his words, filling her with a boundless love that expanded with every heartbeat.

    Suddenly, Alam¡¯s expression shifted, seriousness creeping in. ¡°I¡¯m afraid of dying now.¡±

    The weight of his confession caught Baihu off guard. ¡°Why? Are you worried about leaving us?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯m a soldier. I¡¯ve always been reckless, but now¡­ I want to be here for you both.¡±

    Baihu nodded, understanding the gravity of their new reality. ¡°We have a baby now; we have to think about our responsibilities. We can¡¯t be reckless anymore. We have to protect her.¡±

    Their hands clasped together, a silent reassurance that they were in this together. The weight of shared responsibility settled around them like a comforting blanket.

    ¡°Is this how all parents feel?¡± Alam asked, his brow furrowed.

    ¡°Absolutely. It¡¯s overwhelming but beautiful. We must keep her safe, nurture her, and ensure she grows up happy and healthy,¡± Baihu replied, her voice steady.

    ¡°No more wandering?¡± Alam asked, a playful glint in his eye.

    Baihu smiled, shaking her head. ¡°Not for a while. Rosa is my priority now. She deserves all my time and love.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s give her a better childhood than we had,¡± he suggested, his words striking a deep chord within her.

    ¡°Exactly. She deserves a life free from worry. Let¡¯s give her the love we craved as children.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m feeling emotional now,¡± Alam admitted, feigning a dramatic sigh.

    Baihu raised an eyebrow, teasingly. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Am I being too overbearing?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for how I was before. I was a bad man back then.¡±

    Baihu shook her head firmly. ¡°That¡¯s in the past. I love you for who you are now. Just be the caring husband and father you¡¯ve become. And I¡¯ll keep showering you both with affection.¡±

    Their lips met in a soft kiss, igniting a deeper bond between them. Outside, the world faded away; it was just the two of them¡ªimperfect people embracing their new roles as perfect parents, ready to build a beautiful life for Rosa.

    Quiet Moment at Xian Palace, The sun hung low over Xian Palace, casting long shadows that danced across the stone courtyard. Alam leaned against an ancient wall, a playful glint in his eyes as he turned to Baihu, who sat nearby, curiosity etched on her face.

    ¡°Hey, can I ask you a random question?¡± he ventured.

    Baihu looked up, a smile breaking across her face. ¡°Hello there, darling. You look much healthier after last night¡¯s¡­ activities. What¡¯s your question?¡±

    ¡°Do you think world conquest is worth it?¡± Alam asked, his tone unexpectedly serious.

    Baihu''s eyes widened in surprise, her fingers pausing mid-air. ¡°That¡¯s certainly random. I¡¯m torn between giving you a serious answer or a humorous one. But let¡¯s go with honesty. World conquest isn¡¯t easy, but for someone with ambition and power, maybe it¡¯s worth it,¡± she mused.

    Alam pinched her cheek playfully, a mischievous grin creeping onto his face. ¡°You¡¯re so cute when you¡¯re serious.¡±

    Baihu laughed, her mirth ringing like music in the quiet courtyard. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re just being cheeky because you feel good after our fun last night! Well, I¡¯m refreshed and ready for more fun, too!¡± She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him, fingers tangling in his hair, igniting a spark of intimacy in the air.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you conquer Shanghai in the past?¡± Alam asked, intrigued.

    ¡°Well, conquering Hongkong didn¡¯t seem worth the effort. I prefer trade; it¡¯s lucrative without the chaos of war. Besides, being a pirate, my freedom is paramount. Why trade that for a throne?¡± Baihu replied, continuing to caress his hair, the gentle motion soothing.

    ¡°So you¡¯d rather let others rule?¡± Alam queried, his brow furrowed.

    ¡°Exactly! I enjoy my freedom far too much to be shackled by politics. Pirates thrive on adventure, not governance.¡±

    Alam¡¯s expression turned contemplative. ¡°Do you think I should give up my throne?¡±

    The question hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty. Baihu considered it carefully. ¡°That¡¯s a big decision. Are you tired of the responsibility? If it feels like a burden, stepping down might be wise. But remember, if you leave, who will take care of your people?¡±

    Alam sighed, the burden of leadership evident in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve been wild for four years now. I¡¯m thinking of reducing my role to Marshal and finding a puppet to rule in my place.¡±

    Baihu raised an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s an interesting strategy, but be careful. Handing the throne to someone you don¡¯t trust can lead to disaster. Choose wisely, dear.¡±

    ¡°I want a good leader¡ªsomeone balanced, surrounded by loyal bodyguards,¡± Alam replied, nodding thoughtfully.

    ¡°You¡¯re not a bad person for wanting to step down. You want to find someone competent to lead, and that¡¯s honorable. You¡¯re doing this for your people, not just for yourself,¡± Baihu said, her voice reassuring.

    He smiled, the tension easing from his shoulders. ¡°I guess it¡¯s about perspective. And honestly, I want to spend more time with you and my soldiers.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re admitting you want to be a little selfish? I can respect that,¡± she teased, laughter dancing in her eyes. ¡°Life is fleeting, and we must cherish those we love. If you want to spend more time with me and your comrades, then do it! I¡¯d love to have more of you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just afraid I¡¯ll lose myself in the throne. All I see are numbers and politics, strangers wanting something from me,¡± Alam confessed,

    Baihu¡¯s expression softened. ¡°It¡¯s natural to fear losing yourself. If the throne has become a prison, perhaps it¡¯s time to let someone else carry that weight. You might discover freedom and joy again.¡±

    She leaned closer, the warmth of her presence enveloping him.

    ¡°Yes¡­¡± he whispered, capturing her lips in a deep kiss, longing and relief intertwining in the moment.

    As they pulled away, Alam¡¯s gaze shifted to the news flickering on a nearby screen. The announcement of the end of World War IV flashed across the screen, and his brows furrowed in contemplation.

    ¡°So, the Red Hair is dead by his ex-bodyguard? Classic. Just like Roman emperors and Ottoman sultans. The red nations are in disarray¡­ Victory is imminent,¡± he mused, his mind racing as he glanced at the map of America displayed prominently.

    ¡°World conquest? Tempting¡­¡± His eyes sparkled with the possibilities ahead, the thrill of ambition igniting a fire deep within him once more.

    The words, though spoken elsewhere, resonated with Weaver, a bitter irony twisting in his gut. Tempting for him, perhaps. Not for those left behind. The news had spread like wildfire: Zion was dead. His army, fractured and leaderless, was collapsing. Even now, Weaver could hear the distant cheers of the Coalition, their morale surging with every surrendering Red soldier. But the worst blow wasn¡¯t the enemy¡¯s victory; it was the betrayal. His own men, men he had fought beside, were now laying down their arms, some even turning them against their former comrades.

    ¡°tonight the news was confirmed, in a way, its dispels all doubt.. all that is left for us is to die an honourable death,  It felt like only yesterday they were preparing for war.. now we must get used to the thought of total annihilation ¡°

    Weaver, then continue fight endless foe. he got bullet, and crossbow arrow on his chest. he then tear his military jacket. checking his wound. his semi composite skin implant save him again. but not for too long.

    until he heard on radio on dead soldier in corner of crumbling room. ¡°juggernaut , khan of khaganate surrender!¡± Weaver look at sky, which its filled by smokes,

    First they came for the Tribals

    and I didn''t speak up

    because I wasn''t a Tribals

    Then they came for the Streetkids

    and I didn''t speak up

    because I wasn''t a Streetkids

    Then they came for the Wanderers

    and I didn''t speak up

    because I wasn''t a Wanderers

    Then they came for Emerald league

    and I didn''t speak up

    because I wasn''t a Emerald league

    Then they came for me

    and by that time no one was left to speak up for me

    He aimed at the approaching another wave traitors come from ruins, his finger tightening on the trigger. He would take as many of them with him as he could.

    But before he could fire, the ground erupted. A blinding flash engulfed him, followed by the thunderous roar of artillery. He saw their faces, contorted with a mix of fear and determination. They were coming for him. And then, the world went white.

 Chapter 118 Yellow Epilogue

    The screen flickered to life, and Veronica appeared, her iconic grin lighting up the room.

    "Welcome to Witty World News! Buckle up, folks¡ªthis is going to be a wild ride!"

    As she launched into the latest headlines, the chaos of the world unfolded with a delightful absurdity. The end of World War IV had arrived, but not without the kind of drama that would leave even Shakespeare scratching his head.

    ¡°In Ashgabat, the Red Nation''s infamous leader, Zion, met his end¡ªnot in a blaze of glory, but at the hands of his former bodyguard, Nara. Apparently, a family grudge and a baseball bat were involved. Who knew betrayal could come with a side of sports?¡±

    The room erupted in a mix of laughter and disbelief. The sheer absurdity was almost comforting, a familiar refrain in the ongoing sitcom that was human history. Because, let''s face it, history tends to repeat itself like a bad sitcom that just won¡¯t get canceled. Each culture develops its own unique worldview, a peculiar blend of hatred and tolerance, leading to predictable cycles of unexpected unions and equally predictable wars.

    Speaking of predictable, the Red Nation, now under the leadership of Kassandra following Zion''s untimely demise (baseball bat, remember?), found itself in a rather sticky situation. With Coalition forces nipping at their heels, Kassandra, in a move of pure soap-opera desperation, authorized the use of nuclear weapons. A classic "if I can''t have it, no one can" scenario. The world held its breath, waiting for the inevitable fireworks.

    But fate, as it often does, had other plans. In a plot twist worthy of a telenovela, Kassandra''s reign was cut short. Not by Coalition forces, mind you, but by the Minister, her favorite avocado bowl is poisoned.

    Minister, in a truly bizarre display of post-coup leisure, was found casually playing with Kassandra''s hat atop her now-empty office chair. One can only imagine the jaunty angle he''d achieved.

    This moment of levity, however, was short lived as the Lord from Red Summer promptly dispatched the Minister. The maid, witness to this tragicomic spectacle, looked around the office, a single tear rolling down her cheek for the late Panji. Then, with a sigh and a heavy, almost knowing smile, she turned to the Lord and embraced him. The Red Nation was now a swirling vortex of political intrigue, but at least one tyrant was gone¡ªreplaced by another, naturally.

    Bartoleme and Corvo walked into the office, surveying the scene.

    Bartoleme tipped his hat to the room in general. "Well, that''s that then. Rise and fall. Pity our friend Panji didn''t live to see the end of it."

    Corvo nodded, glancing at the bloodstains. "Yeah. Guess the end of the tunnel was a train for him."

    At the depths of the Pacific, at his metropolis city, Jozen chuckled, the absurdity of it all washing over him like a warm tide.

    ¡°The world today is truly wild. Conflicts are still brewing, but at least they¡¯re settling their scores with dance-offs instead of gunfire. Maybe there¡¯s hope after all.¡±

    he then rub his hand together and lean on his chair. while in other monitor. his pirate ally keep raiding the coastals city on america

    At the Hornet tent, Nara winced, the bandages on her body a reminder of her recent battles. Her grudge against Zion had finally been settled, but the aftermath was far from peaceful.

    Nara look at her bandange¡°So, it¡¯s not over yet. We¡¯re still in the thick of it, and I have to ensure these factions can find common ground. The drama isn¡¯t finished.¡±

    Laila raised her glass, a genuine smile on her face. Her troops echoed the sentiment, a mix of cheers and relieved sighs.

    ¡°This is fantastic news! Decades of conflict are finally coming to an end. Let¡¯s celebrate, friends!¡±

    In a quiet clearing in Medina, Hejaz folded the newspaper, a deep frown creasing his brow.

    ¡°¡°We¡¯ve Won the war,¡± he murmured¡± , but why is the conflict still simmering? Why can¡¯t we find true peace?¡± the weight of the world settling on his shoulders.

    Inside the Serpent Team¡¯s tent, the flickering light of the monitor cast long shadows. The air was thick with the smell of stale rations and unwashed uniforms. They watched the news, the broadcast replaying the footage of the chaotic aftermath in Ashgabat.

    A team member whistled softly. ¡°Can you believe this? Zion¡¯s death, and now the Coalition and the Emerald League are at each other''s throats. It¡¯s like reality TV but with higher stakes.¡±

    Yu stared at the screen, "We made it through the chaos. Now, it''s time to heal and help others find their way back to peace.".

    Patrick simply watched, his face grim. Tetsuya, however, raised an eyebrow, a flicker of something almost like amusement in his eyes. He glanced towards the Strider tanks in the workshop visible through the tent flap. "Well," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Guess I''ll have to find a new job. Maybe tank racing. That could be fun."

    In the underground bunker beneath the war-torn palace of Tehran, Nigel slumped back in his chair, the news report playing silently on the screen. The image of the bat, now a macabre artifact, was burned into his mind.

    ¡°A baseball bat? Really? This is how the world ends¡ªby sporting equipment? Absurd.¡± He rubbed his forehead,

    Crips leaned forward, a thoughtful expression on his face. He didn''t say anything, but his gaze was fixed on the screen, a silent acknowledgment of the strange turn of events.

    the news reach Kaveh retreat place,, he turn into deep frown. war is over. but his career is over, perhaps. its time for redemption for sure

    in outskirt of ruins of Tehran, Sarah, her strong arms still, carefully lowered a precarious stack of salvaged furniture, giggling children perched precariously on top. The nearby crowd clapped and cheered, a brief moment of joy in the midst of the devastation. Sarah chuckled, glancing at a news report on the makeshift public monitor

    ¡°So, the war is winding down, but the drama is just heating up. I just hope we can navigate this transition without another blow-up.¡±

    She looked out at the faces of the refugees, a deep weariness settling in her eyes. "I just hope we can get through this without more blood spilled."

    Bora sat on a rocky outcrop overlooking the vast steppe. The wind whipped around her, carrying the faint scent of smoke from distant fires. She watched the horizon, her expression grim. A news report crackled from a small radio beside her.

    She let out a short, harsh laugh, more bitter than amused. ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got more war coming our way," she muttered, kicking at the dirt with her boot. She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. ¡°im tired¡±

    Light sat in the serene courtyard of the Shangri-La Citadel, surrounded by meditating monks. The news report played on a small screen discreetly placed among the prayer wheels. His face was serene, but a sinister smile creeping across his face as he absorbed the news.

    ¡°Zion¡¯s death at the hands of his bodyguard¡ªit¡¯s almost poetic. A modern-day Brutus, but with a twist. Instead of a dagger, we have a head in a jar. How delightful.¡± He chuckled softly, a hint of genuine amusement in his voice.

    At the Xian Palace, the Wanderer Group and Crescent Alliance forces gathered around the news screens. The reports were fragmented, chaotic: Kassandra''s death, internal power struggles within the Red Nation, scattered fighting continuing in various regions.

    Fang''s eyes widened. "This is insane! The war''s supposed to be over, but it''s just¡­ different chaos now. A new leader every other hour, infighting everywhere¡ªit''s a mess!"

    Yang, his one good eye fixed on the screen, adjusted the eyepatch covering the other. "We need to watch this closely. This mess is going to spill over, I can feel it."

    Zao, however, barely seemed to register the news. His gaze was locked on a separate screen displaying a map of his homeland. The eastern wastelands were marked with radiation zones, reports of mutated creatures, and scattered pockets of resistance. The war might be over for the rest of the world, but for him, it was far from finished. He knew the suffering there would continue.

    The mood in the room was a volatile mix. Some officers watched the news with unreadable expressions, their faces like masks. The fragile alliance between the True Horde Confederacy and the Crescent Alliance, forged by the common enemy of the Red Nation, now felt precarious. The shared purpose that had bound them together was gone.

    A nervous laugh broke the tension. A junior officer from the Crescent Alliance, his face pale, turned to others. "So¡­ after Zion''s death¡­ are we going to kill each other?"

    Ali offered a tight, humorless grin. "Wouldn''t surprise me."

    Near the back of the room, an older general Jax stared at the screen, his eyes glistening. He looked almost on the verge of tears, not from grief for Zion, but from the realization of what might come next. Zhang stood quietly, his faces as impassive as stone mountains,If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    In the Carpathian Mountains, home of wanderers, Carmelita watched the news unfold, her brow furrowed in concern.

    Carmelita touched the edge of her black veil, her dark red eyes fixed on the screen ¡°The Red Nation is in disarray, but at least the nuclear threat is off the table. Thank goodness for small mercies.¡±

    In central Africa, a circular hall with a gleaming golden floor. Shakanya and her general stood in the center of the room, their voices echoing slightly in the vast space.

    Shakanya looked around the empty hall, a faint smile playing on her lips. "So, World War IV is over," she said. "Everyone''s celebrating peace." She intertwined her fingers, the smile fading.

    Her general met her gaze. "And preparing for the next one," he finished. "The Yellow and Blue Nations¡­ they¡¯re like two scorpions in a bottle."

    Shakanya nodded. "We need to be ready."

    At Pulau Kesenangan in the Nusantara Union, Banyan leaned back on his tiger-skin couch, the humid air thick with the scent of spices and blooming jasmine. The distant sound of gamelan music drifted in from the gardens. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching the light catch the intricate carvings on the rim.

    Banyan chuckled softly. "Our world thrives on drama and conflict," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Like a stage play that never ends. It¡¯s fascinating how peace is always short-lived.¡± He took a sip of his drink, his eyes distant. "And then¡­ the curtain rises again."

    Back in Madagascar, the Holy See sat in his office, the view from the highest building in the nation stretching out before him. He flicked off the news, the endless cycle of violence starting to give him a headache. He sighed, reaching for his boba. "Double tapioca," he mumbled to his assistant, who wordlessly handed him the drink. "At least some things stay consistent."

    At the Loving Peace concert, Cecilia finished her performance, the crowd cheering wildly. "The world is better when we embrace love, not hate!" she''d declared, her voice ringing with forced optimism

    Backstage, her manager showed her the news on his phone. Her smile faltered

    ¡°So many lives lost! I can¡¯t tolerate this! We must do something!¡±

    Razor read the news, a long sigh escaping his lips. "The war''s over," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. " Sure, ¡° He rubbed his tired eyes. ¡°there will be problems ahead, but at least people can start to rebuild their lives.¡±

    Razor then look at other CAD team. who gather around near hospital garden, they like treated Vance like some sort of grandma, ¡°well¡± razor shrug. then flip his laptop and walk toward them

    meanwhile Duc and its comrade sitting on trench then startled on Iron Hill gate stronghold open. revealing wraith himself step out from building.

    ¡°its time to take out the trash¡± wraith said while open his arms

    At the Red Nation base in Canada, Trickster¡¯s brow furrowed at the shifting dynamics.

    ¡°This is getting complicated. The tensions are still high, and I can feel the storm brewing.¡±

    later Duc and last remnant of Bastard brigade storm to the command center in canada, kill anyone in sight

    Wraith then arrive with pistol in his hand ¡°yes, goodbye trickster¡±

    Trickster then raise his hand ¡°no wait.. project is started!¡± then loud bang heard

    Nara stood against the backdrop of the Triple Towers at Arizona, where anarchists roamed the streets, gleefully dismantling propaganda monitors like kids on a sugar high. She revved up Panji''s bike, ready to ride into the sunset, no longer just a mindless mercenary but a vigilante with a heart.

    In a world that had once been a mighty empire, she was determined to carve her own path, proving that even in chaos, one could find purpose¡ªand maybe a little bit of fun along the way. After all, who needs a crown when you can have a motorcycle and a cause?

    Life on the trash island had changed. The sky gods had stopped sending their strange gifts. No more bodies washing ashore, no more random crates of supplies. But Low Tide''s tribe was resilient. They had a new generation now, a baby born on the island, a sign of their continued existence.

    One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, a dark shape broke the surface of the water: a submarine, escorted by a pirate ship. Low Tide gathered his people, spears and makeshift firearms raised in defense.

    A figure emerged from the submarine, hands held high. The pirates followed, their expressions surprisingly friendly. They told stories of a world torn by war, of cities reduced to rubble, of leaders rising and falling.

    Low Tide listened, his brow furrowed, especially when they spoke of Jozen, once revered as a god, now revealed as a man ¨C a flawed, powerful man, shown in a recording the pirates had. The idea of his gods being just men¡­ it was unsettling.

    "Why are you here?" Low Tide asked, his voice steady.

    "We''re done with it," one of the pirates said. "The fighting, the chaos¡­ it''s never going to end. Another cold war. ww1, ww2. word war tokyo drift?, we done with that, We just wanted¡­ peace. Somewhere far away."

    Low Tide nodded slowly. He understood the need for peace. He allowed them to stay. Among them was a woman named Bora. Their eyes met, a silent connection forming.

    Later, after they were married, after she had become part of his tribe, Bora told him her own story. She spoke of the war, of the Red Nation, of a man named Zion obsessed with conquest, a man who wanted to unite the world through force. She even showed him a symbol, a mark on her skin ¨C proof that she had once been a double agent, part of the Amazon Praetorian Guard.

    Low Tide listened, mostly confused. He didn''t understand the empires stuff and especially world domination. world is too big for one person.

    things He understood is just fishing, hunting, protecting his tribe. just be a human being. But he looked at Bora, at the woman he had chosen, and he accepted her, past and all.

    Meanwhile in north baltic, Olga Varvara looked up from her work, her eyes lighting up with genuine warmth as Alam walked into the room. Finally. He''s back. Looking a bit worse for wear, as usual. "Ah, hey Alam, good to see you again! How have you been? Did you just get back from the frontline?"

    Alam nodded, a weary smile touching his lips. "Yeah..."

    He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind in a silent gesture of affection. Always with the grand gestures. He knows I appreciate them. Though¡­ perhaps a bit less clinging today.

    Olga responded with a gentle smile, slowly turning to face him and returning the embrace. "Hmmmm... It''s been such a long time... I missed you..." A long time indeed. Too long. The world felt¡­ less interesting without him around to stir things up.

    Alam''s voice was soft, almost hesitant. "Yes... Long time no see... Hey, I have some news... I have a daughter now."

    "Ahaha... So you have a daughter now, huh? That''s certainly good news... May I know who''s the lucky mother of your daughter?"

    Alam''s smile was tinged with pride. "The Baihu... Yes, the general I was fond of in the past."

    Olga''s laughter was warm and hearty. Baihu, eh? That fiery little thing. Good for him. She''ll keep him on his toes. Though¡­ a daughter. That''s¡­ unexpected.. "Ahhh, that''s some good news right there! So, you have a daughter now, huh? Congratulations, Matey! And I see, the mom is none other than that Baihu general you''ve been fond of in the past, right?"

    Alam nodded, his expression softening. "Yes... Please sit on the couch so I can lay my head on your lap and rest."

    Olga''s response was playful yet accommodating. "Ahaha... Sure, Matey... I''ll let you rest on my lap and I''ll pat you gently as you slowly rest... I''ll even feed you a bit of food that I''ve got here on this table..."

    Alam settled comfortably, a contented hum escaping his lips. "Good enough... ¡°Alam lying on her lap¡° hmhm...¡±

    Olga began to gently stroke his hair and back, her gaze loving and tender. He feels¡­ different. Not just tired. There''s something else there. A weight. Responsibility, perhaps? It suits him.

    Alam''s question broke the comfortable silence. "Hey... Do you still wage war in the west? When do you decide to stop?"

    Olga''s answer was thoughtful, her tone serious. "Oh, the waging war in the west, you ask? Well, it still continues for now, but we''re already planning to stop it soon. The reason why we''re still waging the war is to secure our dominance in the west so that we can have a stronger grip on the entire Blue Nation territory¡±

    She tapped a crimson-tipped finger against her lips, the polished nail catching the light.

    ¡°But soon, we''ll have a meeting with the other alliance leaders to discuss the end of this war. So, I believe it will not last long. Why the question, by the way? Are you not happy with our current approach to the war?"

    Alam''s response was earnest. "Yeah... We destroyed the Red Nation... They are crippled and no longer pose a threat to the world... We don''t have any justification to continue."

    Olga nodded in agreement. "Yes, exactly. We have already achieved our goal, which is to defeat and cripple the Red Nation. There is no need for us to continue our war now that we have accomplished that."

    Alam chuckled softly. "Good... Hehe... Unless..."

    Olga''s curiosity was piqued. "Unless...?? Unless what?"

    Alam''s question was laced with a hint of challenge. "Unless you want world conquest."

    Olga''s eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and contemplation. "Hmmmm... World conquest, huh? That''s interesting... I''ll consider that for sure... But for now, I think I''d prefer taking over the West first before doing anything else."

    Alam''s tone was inquisitive. "Why? Aren''t you satisfied with your territory?"

    "Hmm... You could say that... That''s because of my old habits that I still like to do wars and battles... I will never stop making new territory as long as I could and won''t be tired of doing that either... I believe that the whole world was meant to be my territory... That will always be my goal."

    Alam''s question was pointed. "I see... Does that include my nation?"

    "Hmmm... Well, I must say, I do have my eyes on you and your nation. You guys are a very appealing target to my eyes... A very interesting target indeed... So, do I have my eyes set on your nation, you ask? Yes, you could say that I do have that very thing in mind, my dear... That is indeed the case..."

    Alam''s observation was tinged with a hint of resignation. "I see... That kind of mindset is what makes the world never truly peaceful."

    Olga''s laughter was soft, almost rueful. "Yeah... you''re right... I have that kind of mindset that will always make sure that peace and order never exist in any nation... That''s just who I am... I''m the one who makes things messy and chaotic... I''m the one who creates disorder... I''m the one who likes to see people suffer... That''s just who I am... I''m the one who causes chaos and suffering... I''m the one who likes to conquer and destroy... I''m the one who likes war and battle... I''m the one who likes suffering... That''s just who I am... And nothing can change that."

    Alam, with a playful grin, pinched her nose lightly. "Hehe... ¡°Alam pinches her nose.

    Olga retaliated with a playful pout, pinching his nose back and giving it a gentle flick. "Hey!"

    Alam''s pout"Nyahh..."

    Olga''s curiosity was piqued once more. What''s he thinking? What''s he planning? He''s never this¡­ docile. "Huh? What is it, Matey?" She slowly looked back at him with a curious expression on her face.

    Alam a pondering of the future. "Nothing... Hmm... We just never find peace in this world, isn''t it?"

    Olga''s response was a sobering reality check. "Yes... we just never find peace in this world... This is a world of chaos and war... And we''ll never find peace until the whole world is under my rule... Until then, we''ll never get the peace that you''re seeking... That''s reality... I''m sorry if I''m being too honest with you here, but it''s the truth anyway."

    Alam''s chuckle was soft, almost resigned. "Hehe... ¡°Alam pinches her nose harder.

    Olga''s laughter was light, a moment of playfulness amidst their heavy discussion. "Hey!" She quickly pinched his nose back, a playful smile on her face.

    Alam''s question was a contemplation of the aftermath. "What happens after you die, just after conquering the world... Do you expect the world to bow to a dead person?"

    Olga''s answer was thoughtful, Perhaps. A god-queen in Valhalla, ruling over the living from beyond the veil. Now that would be a legacy. "Hmm... What would happen after I died and conquered the whole world and bow to a dead person? To be honest, I''m not really sure... that''s something that we''ll have to wait and see... What do you think about it, eh, Matey? Do you think we''ll all bow to a dead person?"

    Alam''s belief was in a different kind of peace. "No... The world will achieve ultimate peace if they found common understanding and tolerance..."

    Olga''s agreement was heartfelt, a shared vision of a better world. "Yeah... That''s the best idea, isn''t it? To have common understanding and tolerance... That''s the only way to achieve true peace in the world... But I don''t think that will happen, with how things are going now and how the world is now... But I agree with your view, Matey... That''s the best way to achieve peace in the world... By having mutual understanding and tolerance... That''s the only way for lasting peace in the world."

    "It will happen... I can smell it in the corner... ¡°Alam wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

    Olga''s laughter was warm, a mirroring of his playful gesture. "Oh? I can see it too... It''s near! And I can smell it too!¡± She slowly and playfully mimicked his expression and wiggled her eyebrows with a playful smile on her face.

    Alam''s hum contentment "Hmhm... Good... At least in your dream and mind..."

    Olga''s response was a soft acknowledgment of their shared vision. "Huhu... Yeah, at least in my dream and mind... That''s a good starting point, isn''t it?"

    Alam''s eyes closed, a sense of peace washing over him. "Yes... ¡°

    Olga continued to gently pat him, a silent guardian as he slowly drifted off to sleep. Sleep well, little matey. You''ll need the rest

    end

 Lore, Reference and Character in Chapter 1

    Chapter 1: The Wanderers and The Dark crusade

    table of content:

    Reference, Lore, Character

    Part 1 Reference:

    so Wanderer is heavy inspired by nomadic group in since Roman era till Medieval era on exact same region. and modern version of Yugoslavia (ww2-1992) and the Crusader. lets break down,

    Huns-Avars- Magyars, they all had main base in Carpathian Mountains, they all horselord with bows, the region is suitable for defense, so in post apocalypse scenario. that is most logical place to hang out.

    who is Alam? his action is actually striking similar like a Attila the huns. they both ruthless, ambitious, and somehow humble.

    Roman use huns to kill some german tribe as merc. so their army can stay in safe. but then huns under leadership of Attila they attack Roman.

    while Red nation use Wanderer to soften local bandit and buffer zone to Yellow nation,

    Yugoslavia during the Cold War offers some interesting parallels:

    <ul>

    <li>Like Yugoslavia between NATO and the Soviet Union, the Wanderers are caught between the Yellow Nation and dangers to the east</li>

    <li>Yugoslavia, under Tito, sought independence from both US and Soviet influence. Similarly, the Wanderers, prioritize self-sufficiency and control over their destiny, driving their focus on acquiring old tech and resources.</li>

    <li>Yugoslavia faced internal ethnic tensions. The Wanderers have similar issues, hinted at by "corruption here and there."</li>

    <li>Both Yugoslavia and the Wanderers recognize the importance of a strong military for survival and fending off larger powers.</li>

    </ul>

    and did you know if Stalin leader of Soviet union dozen times trying kill Tito leader of Yugoslavia. but Tito reply something like this

    "Stop sending people to kill me. We''ve already captured five of them, one of them with a bomb and another with a rifle¡­ If you don''t stop sending killers, I''ll send one to Moscow, and I won''t have to send another."

    then. Stalin die first on March 5, 1953, while Tito died on May 4, 1980,

    so did Tito cad team manage to do that? who knows.

    Dark Crusade and allegory of Pandora Tech

    In 1119, some 9 Knight in past task to guard the caravan and protect pilgrims traveling to the Holy Land during the Crusades, They were based on the Temple Mount, hence their name "Templars." then they go rich or something,

    but later on they Templars found a ¡°exoteric knowledge¡± beneath temple and hidden ruins, which later on some dude hate it.

    in around 1300 ad, King Philip IV orders the arrest of Templars throughout France and the last Grand Master of the Templars, is burned at the stake in Paris.

    same as wanderer. they like go here and there. and hence their name ¡°wanderers¡± then story begun when they found the knowledge . which bit complex than a old scroll. a missile aim to yellow nation.

    Part 2 Lore:

    Wanderers: The Wanderer group is a private military organization that was officially founded in 2076. It is a non-government organization with the primary goal of helping people who are oppressed by tyrannical governments and groups, they''ve made it their mission to fight injustice and inequality throughout the world.

    so in sort they are the opposite version of CIA, but they both funded by different group of Deep State/Blob, apparently not all Rich people is bad

    The post-WWIII world, marked by EMP-induced societal collapse, forced the Wanderer''s specialized operatives to descend into mercenary work, ultimately fading into obscurity. Their resurgence came with their integration as a branch of a rising superpower: a new Caliphate. A pivotal figure in this transformation is a former drug dealer named Carmelita. After a clash with the Caliph that resulted in her pardon and subsequent conversion, she was tasked with locating the remnants of the Wanderer group in Carpathia, a crucial buffer zone against the expanding "Yellow Nation" in Europe.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Joining forces with some Hornet special operatives, they established a new base of operations. Carmelita demonstrated an exceptional talent for recruitment and training, quickly rising to become the Wanderer''s leader at 2385 ad,

    Credit: The currency based Gold used in this world. gold is stable than fiat. and in chaotic world. people need a something to rely on than a promise. people from Nusantara union to Free world is pay same thing and got the same thing. no worry about inflation

    EMP Collapse: An electromagnetic pulse event that disabled electronic devices, contributing to the fall of civilization. think about big city. they rely on supermarket, water, gas, and electricity. when power grid turn off, all of them is disable.

    people in big city descend into chaos, nations who rely on import to sustain themself then breakdown

    people in remote village might can rely on farming and wood for fuel. but majority of humankind are life in big city. that powershift make people in remote area more resilience and grow stronger when earth reset because had more advantaged than people who life in concrete jungle

    Mad max cars: When most of factory in world is damaged. and most vehicles at that time (even today) is rely on electronic stuff. With factories damaged and electronic components destroyed by the EMP, people resorted to salvaging and created frankenstein cars,

    Radiation: when WW3 starts. nations is not using nukes to bomb cities. but use Tactical nuke only and hit military targets and the radiation level still low from fallout, but when Emp collapse happen. many nuclear reactor is turn into meltdown or malfunction. the fall out from this which more severe damaged the whole planet

    Part 3 Characters:

    Alam: The leader of the Wanderers. man with long wavy hair with tanned skin. before join the wanderers Alam spend most of his childhood in bed because its sickness. when he wake up he already a grown up man. then he meet Demonic Cultist ¡°watu ireng¡± they are slaver.the old leader of cult see something special in alam eye, and guide him personally to how its work and Alam surprisingly good for ¡°training¡± activity. make him quickly become high member of cult.

    Until one day Alam got enough about the slavery things. he then found abandoned military site in tip of sumatra. and put the ground artillery on one of boat. and begin his pirate journey. but this new persona not bring him satisfaction despite had massive wealth, so he found himself at port city near italy. he then become a vigilante. buy a abandoned mansion near seashore and use it as base. he hunt down thugs and mafia, while recruiting assassins and mercenary along the ways. he then grow attachment to one particular assassins. named Rosaria

    but despite seems redemption part of him. he build a dungeon beneath his mansion, to fulfil his twisted desire. but wind of fate changed again while he allying to other pirate for particular business. Rosaria betray him. Alam goes mad and manage capture Rosaria. he torture her for 40 days. all of Alam ally is suggest traitor is deserve death. but Alam love for Rosaria is prevent him to do it. until one day Alam is banish her instead to be a librarian.

    Alam who still had mental breakdown then just abandoned his vigilante group and turn to Carpathia to join wanderers. with his intelligence and aggressive nature he rank up quickly and become more powerful than Carmelita especially he the first person who introduce mass recruitment and training from local tribal against the bandit. its created power imbalance. and its make Alam become the unofficially a Leader

    Carmelita: A high-ranking member of the Wanderers, second-in-command. woman with red hair which often wear a dark veil. Carmelita is a dolls. dolls itself once are pure organic human. before war when moral is degrade is rampart. there is a concept of marginalized group. especially a woman in specific region turn turn into a cyborg like. its was glorified version of ¡°slavery¡±. until one day similar like Alam. Carmelita had enough of her master. and escape. she then join the local resistance of local government once thailand, but the resistance is funded by drug dealing. in one shipment which Carmelita involved is being intercept by Hornet spec ops. and led to her capture

    Jax:, a high-ranking member within the Wanderers. A bulky man with a mechanical right arm and short brown hair. Jax is born in Red nation. he is expert in sword and hand to hand combat. he is simple man and go flow person type and had gentle heart. this attribute which make him become a Wanderer is more Liberal way than become soldier of Red army. he had history when he are same squad with Alam, and see his first hand Alam unorthodox thinking to dealing bandits in region. instead search and kill. Alam method is make them as Vassal and offer these bandit a redemption to be wanderer ally. and Jax are pointed to be a trainer of militia and tribal of growing Alam (own) army.

    The White Witch and Mutants as Mythological and Historical Fears:

    The legends of the White Witch and the presence of mutants and supersoldiers draw on both mythological fears of supernatural beings and historical fears of the unknown, hence even today some adult still fear walking on dark alley because ¡°urban legends¡±

 Lore, Reference and Character in Chapter 2-3

    Chapter 2-3 Echoes of the Cold War

    table of content:

    Reference, Lore, Character

    Part 1 Reference

    Cold War Proxy Conflicts (Cuba, Korea, Afghanistan): Proxy wars, Where superpowers fight without actually fighting,

    The missile site aimed at Yellow Nation territory: This is a direct parallel to the Cuban Missile Crisis, where the Soviet Union placed nuclear missiles in Cuba, just miles from the USA,

    or when USA trying put missile on Ukraine and South Korea which aim to Moskow

    The Genius Society inspiration

    Powerful Organizations Operating Outside Direct Government Control, without being directly accountable to any single government (or hidden by design)

    The CIA, the CIA has historically engaged in covert operations around the world, sometimes without the full knowledge or approval of Congress or the President. they even experiment their own people like documented on the operation ¡°mk-ultra¡±.

    Unit 731. During World War II, Japan conducted horrific human experimentation in Manchuria, Their full extent of the atrocities may never be known, (and you dont wanna know)

    and the the US did acquiring ¡°scientific¡± stuff after World War II, hence. now you know why some ¡°wacky¡± things CIA do in cold war.is exist not in fiction. not in games. but in real life.

    Pythagoras School, we all know Pythagoras by from his math theory. but in past he form a community which not focusing studying math. but some myth and exoteric stuff. they selective which and who can join. in height of the power they even take a city, one things is weird is they forbid eat peanut

    Wartime Rationing and Resource Scarcity: The struggles Alam faces with food, medicine, and fuel shortages mirror the hardships experienced by many populations during wartime.

    Many countries during WWII implemented strict rationing programs to ensure equitable distribution of scarce resources. This included rationing food, fuel, clothing, and other essential goods. like the Siege of Leningrad during WWII, often led to extreme food shortages and even instances of cannibalism

    The Story of Yusuf (Joseph): Alam''s reference to the story of Yusuf (Joseph) from religious texts (both the Bible and the Quran) and his strategy of preserving resources and granting extra rations to the sick draws , The story recounts how Joseph, through his wisdom and foresight, advised the Pharaoh of Egypt to store grain during years of plenty to prepare for a coming famine.

    Vassal states: The Blood Khaganate''s dependence on the Red Nation for coal and heat generators reflects the historical concept of vassal states, where a weaker state is subordinate to a more powerful one and owes it allegiance or tribute.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Dehumanization: To make it easier for soldiers and civilians to accept violence against the enemy by portraying them as less than human.

    Part 2 Lore

    Genius Society

    Beyond the obvious Red Nation and Genius Society links,the Society was doing shady business worldwide, she was part of the whole post-apocalyptic capitalist thing, using her Simulated Universe for fun and profit.

    But here''s a cool thought: before she was all about the Genius Society, she was involved with this group called the Transcendental Council (Nerealnoye Sostoyaniye).

    Their whole deal was about this "Unreal State," altered consciousness, places where reality gets wonky, or even some deep philosophical stuff about detaching from the real world.

    come from a group focused on mental transcendence. They have been messing with consciousness, doing weird reality experiments, or chasing some kind of enlightenment, which later on Zion use their tech for foundation of Virtual world program

    Nerealnoye Sostoyaniye, Ruan Mei and Skinwalkers

    before war, a group of Russian Scientist trying create A state of altered consciousness and perception project

    "Unreal State" refer to a state of enlightenment, transcendence, or detachment from the material world, achieved through constantly expose to virtual world. Alternatively, it could represent a state of existential dread or nihilism, where individuals perceive reality as meaningless or illusory.

    why? to created a perfect citizen and perfect nation. they must less ¡°human¡±. but then war broke. some scientist goes rogue after government collapse.

    and one particular scientist named Sophie goes beyond to created a virtual world. because money should be made and some resource is cant just be required by automatons, so Sophie use the available tech to fulfil her curiosity and makes money, over times her colleagues is had different vision for Nerealnoye Sostoyaniye, so one by one they break up from her. this sense of isolation make Sophie turn into more detachment and loneliness. so she change the group name as and The Genius Society inspiration, she took the name from the Honkai: Star Rail, her favorite game. and change her name as Ruan Mei, her favorite character which she belief represent her (its totally me moment, but bit sad)

    Skinwalkers

    since Eastern wasteland filled by warmonger warlord and tribes. Ruan mei use mind control Animal to guard her bunkers. and sell enchanted horse for the locals via dolls brokers, name Skinwalkers actually reference for american Djin or Demon things in America. something animal but closer to human

    Blood khaganate

    When Emp collapse and sea rising. many citizen especially in big city and sea shore moving into mainland. this shift of power make land based region like in Mongolia had massive population boost in short term. this geographic advantage created the local ¡°native¡± people had sense of Superiority, especially when Zion start rigged their government and carefully put the right wing party to rule the new nation. the revival concept of ¡°pax mongolica¡± created, justify their action to expand beyond their border. because the wikipedia bible say so

    The original Pax Mongolica, a period of relative peace and stability in Eurasia during the Mongol Empire, is being twisted to justify expansion and conquest. This is a classic example of historical revisionism, where historical events are reinterpreted to serve contemporary political agendas *wink*

    Part 3 Char

    Ali: A tribal leader which originally come from Canada and his great great grand father is famous MMA champion, when ¡°great tribal massacre¡± Ali and his people is migrate to Asia. and passing the bering strait when winter. the sea is frozen. created natural bridge for them. when constantly harassed by Zion force, Tribal refugee took heavy casualties when passing the frozen bridge, but their struggle is not done yet. they then greet by Khagan warriors. after an epic desperate battle, Ali and small followers manage to flee. and by times, many minority and marginalized group join Ali. He then keep moving to west, along the way to make a point Ali often Wrestling on every champion he meet, from human contender to semi human one. this created his reputation and easier way to win heart of locals. he manage passing the dangerous siberian wasteland, until finally he found Alam and Wanderers.

    Subutai: original name is Akbar. but after the Khaganate turn into Fascist regime. he change his name as Subutai. mimicking the famous Mongol general in past. with his augmented body. he quickly rank up into Captain. and Khan then give him mission to expand into west *double wink*