Overhead Firing Method

"Kirov, translator."

In that instant, the Russian on the other end of the phone seemed to hear the chilling winds of Siberia.

About two hours had passed since the last phone call, and based on the information conveyed by the translator, Kirov roughly guessed what Kang De intended to do.

Dimitri, who has more experience in the field, said that kidnapping a company commander, especially in a military camp during wartime, requires meticulous planning, sufficient firepower, and a well-trained team. Moreover, the operation is best carried out at night to maximize the chances of success.

After all, reality isn't a game. You only get one chance, you can't reload a save, and it's full of variables. A stray bullet or a mistake can change the outcome... You have to be careful.

"If I were to lead the operation, I would first formulate a plan of action. Ideally, we would kidnap another person from near the military camp and interrogate them to obtain comprehensive and detailed intelligence, so as to avoid any omissions or concealments in the previous intelligence."

Sure enough, Kang De called and asked for a translator.

Kirov and his bodyguard exchanged a glance after he answered the phone.

The retired special forces soldier with the Vympel revealed a smug look, raising his eyebrows. Just as he had predicted, Kang De indeed went and arrested another person to interrogate him. This is what you call great minds think alike.

Kirov praised, "Brother, you're really quick, an hour ahead of Dimitri's schedule. How's everything going?"

"Yes, it went quite smoothly."

Kang De on the phone clearly had no interest in small talk. "Get the translator in place."

"Okay, he's always been there."

Mali Sele, who had previously enjoyed a pleasant collaboration with Kang De, had already put on her headphones and spoke in clear Mandarin, this time even with a slight Beijing accent. "Mr. Kant, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"..."

"..."

Mali Sele raised an eyebrow.

Having worked with him before, he already had a general understanding of this China client's style of doing things. Moreover, as a professional translator, he had seen it all.

So this time he even joked, "Sir, from my professional perspective, he's screaming in agony."

"Then tell him that if he really likes to yell and scream, I'll make a teppanyaki out of his Black Dior, cook it, cut it off, and stuff it into his mouth."

The interpreter thought for a moment, then roared out a vulgar phrase in a Texas accent with a strong redneck accent.

They even considered that the other party, being a Black man from Gambia who had never seen the world, might not understand the word "teppanyaki," since it originated in Japan and the other party might not know it.

So he thoughtfully translated the threatening remark as, "I'll skewer your penis with cassava and mango on a metal bar, put it on a tin gasoline drum for a BBQ, then cut it off and feed it to you, including those two testicles."

Perhaps Mali Sele's redneck accent was too intimidating, because the Gambia was clearly taken aback; his terrified screams were caught in his throats, leaving only extremely panicked gasps.

"Ask him," Kang De said, "Where are the China who were arrested now?"

The English on the other end of the phone had a strong Africa accent. The black man spoke in a terrified voice, almost shrill. "I don't know, sir, I don't know anything. I was just following orders. I didn't hurt any China people. Please, don't hurt me..."

Mali Sele shrugged. "He said, 'Keep hitting me, sir.'"

"... I've never heard of such a request in my entire life, okay."

Immediately following, a violent wind howled from the speakers, as if the black man had been thrown from a great height. Then, the clanging of machinery rang out, something buzzing and turning, like a chainsaw, a drill, or a mixer, the crackling, clanging, and booming sounds mingling together in a very strange manner.

Dimitri blinked in confusion. "What kind of torture device is this?"

The faint, desperate cries of a Black man could be heard over the phone. "No, no, no! Please! Keep it away from me! Oh God! No, no, no, no! Don't look at me! Don't eat me! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Just as Mali was about to speak, a shout suddenly came from the speakers.

Immediately, the roar of large-caliber anti-materiel rifles filled the air, followed by the strange mechanical sounds, and then a teeth-grinding tearing sound, like flesh being sawed apart.

It was even interspersed with the black man's terrified and desperate screams.

"Aaaaaaah! It's torn! It's torn! It's torn!"

"Oh my god, don't do that! Don't throw it at me! Take it away! Oh Mommy, ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh ugh..."

For some reason, a chill ran through the few white men who were listening to all this.

A moment later, Kang De's voice rang out again. "Don't worry about it, our new friend doesn't like the football I gave him; maybe it's not round enough."

Kirov straightened up and tentatively asked, "Brother, they found you? Is everything alright? Is there anything I can help with? If you need any help or advice..."

Kang De said calmly, "It's nothing. These are the last few. They even dared to jump out and retaliate."

The arms dealer and his partner exchanged a glance—had they been discovered by the enemy and were being pursued?

--No, that's not right!

Kirov's face suddenly showed disbelief.

He finally realized something was wrong. "Who... who is this person?"

"..." Kang De's tone was somewhat impatient, "Of course it's Oschatz, who else could it be?"

The retired officer from the Vympel stared wide-eyed, Kirov's cigar fell from his fingers onto the table, and he stammered, "The last few you mentioned..."

Is now the time to talk about this?

"Of course not! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please continue!"

He gestured for Mali Sele to continue translating, while he and his bodyguard Dimitri exchanged bewildered glances, frantically gesturing and mouthing—what the hell was going on?

"OK, friend, it sounds like this person is your subordinate, colleague, or maybe a close friend?"

"Oh no! Please! Take him away! Don't let him face me!"

Thanks to the translator's efforts, Kang De was able to communicate smoothly with his Africa friend over the phone.

"Listen up, answer my questions quickly, completely, and honestly. If you hide anything or lie, I'll make you and your best friend have a passionate, life-or-death kiss. You'd better confess before I can think of anything more disgusting. Now, tell me! Where! Are! Chinese! People!"

"I don't know... I really don't know! We handed them over to those people! We were just following orders! I swear! I'm telling the truth!"

Who are those people?

"..."

Oschatz was clearly silent, or rather, hesitant.

Kang De shouted sharply, "Electricity!"

The crackling sound of electric current whipping up magnetic arcs rang out, followed by Oschatz's miserable, violent whimpers and muffled howls. His mouth was gagged, and this torture lasted for half a minute. Kirov listened silently, a bead of cold sweat sliding down the arms tycoon's cheek.

"... Mercenaries! We handed them over to mercenaries! Those people are mercenaries!"

Oschatz spoke urgently in a weak and fearful voice.

Why are mercenaries capturing China people?!

"I don't know, I really don't know! I'm just following orders! The king's orders! The king ordered me to lead the army to follow that mercenary force into the Comora! They're responsible for securing victory, and we're responsible for taking the spoils! In principle, I must obey their instructions! It's the king's order!"

Upon hearing this, Kirov suddenly said, "... Brother, ask him the name of that mercenary group."

Mali Sele immediately and accurately translated it.

"I... I really don't know! The person who contacted me told me to call him Mr. Buruo! I saw him when they were escorting those China people there, but he was wearing heavy bulletproof vests and a helmet, so I couldn't see what he looked like at all! I'm not lying to you!"

Kirov picked up his phone and asked questions directly in English: the composition of the opposing force's ranks, the ethnicity of its members, the types of weapons and equipment... The terrified Major Oschatz answered everything he knew, but his answers were a jumbled mess.

Kirov gestured, Dimitri immediately got up and left. The arms dealer composed himself and said, "I'll try my best to find out for you, brother, but this mercenary group is obviously very cautious. They're not wearing rank insignia, and their weapons and equipment are all from International, so I can only say I'll do my best."

"Thanks, Kirov."

It is my pleasure to serve you.

After he finished speaking, Kirov realized—why did I say that?

He scratched his head and said, "Now I understand at least one thing: no wonder this battle was so strange, and why Gambia advanced so quickly—it turns out they hired substitutes, but that's even stranger."

Kang De asked, "What's strange about it?"

"The cost of hiring such a powerful and well-equipped mercenary force could drain the entire annual revenue of Gambia. The King of Gambia only needs to spend half of that money to mobilize 10,000 able-bodied men from the tribes within the country, equipping them with rifles. This would not only be cheaper but also more efficient. Hiring such a foreign aid army is highly illogical."

"Moreover, Comora is even poorer; the gains from the campaign are far less than the costs."

Kang De said coldly, "But it happened nonetheless."

"So there must be a reason for doing this, for example, some other agreement, conspiracy, or something else besides money that we're unaware of, that we don't know about..." Kirov whispered, "A secret."

Kang De paused for a moment, then asked, "Are these things related to the kidnapping of China people?"

"I don't know, but there must be some connection, brother. No armed force in this world would dare to attack a citizen of a permanent member of the Security Council without any conflict of interest. They must have some demands, and the specific demands depend on what they want to get."

Kirov had already guessed seven or eight tenths of the purpose of Kang De's trip to Africa: "You don't need to worry too much, brother. Whatever their demands, they wouldn't dare to harm the China."

"Yeah?"

Kang De's voice on the phone was somewhat distorted, but a chill could still be heard in it.

"I never place my hopes on a pack of hyenas, warmongers, and killing machines—translator!"

Mali Sele jumped up. "Yes, sir!"

He was about to translate the sentence "I never place my hopes on..." when Kang De said, "Ask him! Where did he send the China? Point it out on the map! And where have those mercenaries fighting for Gambia reached?"

"Yes! Yes!"

Oschatz, his voice trembling with sobs, breathing rapidly, and the sound of him sniffling, cried out, "Here! Yayeruoba! A town west of Moyani, the capital of Comora! I've heard that they've already stormed the Comora capital and are engaged in a final battle with the Comora army!"

"Very good, I see, I understand."

Kang De's voice was calm. "Now, look at me, look at my face. When you first saw me, you were stunned for a moment. You've seen someone who looks somewhat like me before, haven't you? But a bit thinner, wearing glasses, with some gray hair, dressed in shabby, dirty work clothes, and always carrying a notebook—you've seen someone like that, haven't you? In that group of China people."

"Yes... yes..."

"You also handed them over to those mercenaries?"

"I'm... I'm sorry... I... I don't know..."

"Was he injured?"

"No! Really, no! I respected them! I didn't do anything to them! I didn't even let them go hungry! These are all true!"

"... oh."

Then, after a while, the sound of liquid being poured could be heard over the phone.

"No, no, no, no, no! Oh God, what are you doing! Please forgive me! I wasn't lying! I was just following orders! I don't want to die! Please don't do this! Please! Please..."

"I know, I know."

This time, it was Kang De himself who spoke.

The English pronunciation sounded awkward and non-standard to several foreigners.

"But it can't save you."

The sounds of Flame burning, the scorching heat, and the agonizing screams and howls even distorted the sound system slightly.

Kirov and the interpreter closed their eyes at the same time.

"Thank you, Kirov, thank you, Mali. I need to find that mercenary group before news of this camp's destruction reaches them, so I have to go now..."

Kang De's voice was eerily calm, especially against the backdrop of those agonizing screams; the unwavering tone made it all the more terrifying.

"... Wait a moment!"

Kirov said instinctively.

"Um?"

Kang De awaited the next installment.

Kirov didn't know what to say either, and just stammered, "I... I just feel, brother, are you a little... I mean, I understand how you feel, but..."

The next moment, Kang De spoke, his voice a hundred times colder than before.

"... Sorry, Kirov, something urgent has come up. Talk to you later."

The call was immediately disconnected.

Hearing the busy tone, the arms dealer paused for a moment, then slowly exhaled. "Damn... he seemed perfectly normal when he came to Serbia. His PTSD symptoms are enough to land him in Arkham Asylum..."

He glanced at Mali Sele, whose face was also being watched by the translator.

The old Russian shook his head. "I'll have to teach my little brat a lesson when I get back. I also hope that if I ever fail in business, I'll have a ruthless son to save me."

But then he hesitated. "... Do I really hope so?"

The arms dealer was filled with emotion, unaware that the ruthless killer he was talking about, someone worthy of being admitted to Arkham Asylum, had already left this world.

Within Goth's territory, in the Xiaye District, Stream Valley, banners fluttered like a forest in the distance, sturdy shields and heavy armor stood guard, mages provided cover, and heavy rhinoceros cavalry roared softly—a new defensive line was ready.

"This army is best wiped out, otherwise they'll advance directly from the Stream Valley into the heart of Xiaye. This is the slave army of the Tuke City-State, which has strong elven support, and they have absolutely no discipline."

The Sword Saint Cascading Snow looked at Kang De: "Is there a way? If we're not very confident, or if it takes a long time..."

"Have."

Kang De stared intently into the distance, his gaze icy as he looked at the well-ordered armored formation, the heavy defenses, and the presence of mages flanking them, their magical light dancing in the sky, waiting for him to crash headlong into this killing array.

Idiot.

Horus, now fully armed, emitted a series of deep, rumbling sounds.

Rows of M2HB heavy machine guns gleamed coldly in the sunlight.

"Raise the gun barrels upwards, launch and fire!"

This was a first-of-its-kind, Overhead Firing Method pioneered by the German army Battle of the Somme.

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PS1: I didn't sleep well last night, so this is the only update today. Goodnight.