Father
Gunfire continued throughout the night, and the sky was just beginning to lighten.
The battle for the Comora royal palace had long ended, and the nominally Gambia army had occupied the area, but those in the know understood that this was not a victory for Gambia.
The national army that Comora had gathered had been scattered and defeated, suffering heavy casualties, with most of them surrendering. The only remaining loyal troops were the king's tribes, who escorted the young King of Comora as he fled overnight. The whereabouts of the legitimate ruler of Comora were now unknown, and the capital, Moyani, had effectively fallen.
Given the current situation, Comora no longer exists. The war of annihilation is basically over. The once arrogant King of Gambia, who once denounced the European Union American Empire, can now declare Comora as part of his territory, ushering in a new era, and then sit back and await international condemnation and sanctions.
On the other hand, sanctions are nothing to the superpower Gambia.
When this king's brother encountered protests and riots in his country, he immediately sent troops to storm the American Empire embassy and shoot the beautiful sights. He also beat up the American Empire personnel who jumped out to stop him. He had already received a sanction from the beacon of humanity.
Later, a threat was issued that if the tiny America ant dared to continue the sanctions, it would directly send troops to occupy the North American Continent —and thus diplomatic relations were downgraded.
Furthermore, due to a trade dispute with the European Union, the powerful king was enraged and announced that he would send troops to sweep across the European continent to fulfill Napoleon's unfulfilled ambition, which led to joint sanctions from the European Union countries.
This is normal, but the reasons for the sanctions are rather ridiculous. Western countries used their traditional tricks: the conflict was clearly caused by a trade dispute and the King of Gambia's empty talk, yet the reason given for the sanctions was human rights. In other words, if the trade was settled and money was made, the human rights issue would not exist.
But in any case, King Gambia was already a veteran of countless battles, and he would not be afraid to launch wars of aggression and annex neighboring countries even in the 21st century.
International sanctions? Haven't I been subjected to enough sanctions already?
What? United Nations military intervention?
Forget it, Gambia is a godforsaken place. God didn't bestow oil upon it, it's not a strategic location, it has no ambition to dominate or pose a threat, and it never intended to settle oil transactions in euros. Why would imperialists come here to burn money?
It's stable.
Although King Gambia was arrogant, he was not entirely a fool; he had his own plans.
Moreover, this war wasn't about unifying the country or reclaiming lost territories. Comora was even less wealthy than Gambia. He wasn't crazy; why would he want to support a bunch of poor people?
The reason for starting this war was a secret deal.
His cooperation is beneficial.
He was the ruler of a country.
Only one country can make a promise that will win the heart of another.
He calculated it over and over and felt it was a good deal; he was confident he had won.
Although the king, who was over fifty years old, wasn't entirely a fool, he was at least half a fool.
He only considered half of what he was thinking.
He reasoned that this matter had only advantages and no disadvantages. Even if there were disadvantages, he had nothing to lose and was fearless. The advantages were significant enough, so why not take the gamble? Besides, there was the support of that country.
But he forgot the second half.
Perhaps this king's history is not good.
He has forgotten the suffering of his ancestors, or rather, the tendency to fawn over the West has been instilled in the hearts of these generations of Black people by the former colonizers. They both fear and yearn for it, constantly despising the West and looking down on Europe and America, yet when an olive branch is offered, they fawn over it more readily than anyone else.
If easy money weren't so readily available, who would be willing to be a sycophant?
He simply forgot, or only saw, the superficial Civilization of Western countries, but forgot the true colors of these imperialist nations in Africa back then—their words were like farts, and their breach of contracts were as commonplace as drinking water.
The old king believed that the conquest of Moyani and the capture of the Comora king meant the deal was over.
But for the player making the move, the second phase of the plan is about to begin.
Comora Royal Palace.
The light from the streetlights outside shone through the curtains into the room.
Kang Jinzhu sat alone in the room, listening to the sporadic gunshots in the distance. He stared at the paper and pen in front of him, which was a letter. He wrote page after page, but could never finish it. His gaze was calm and sighing.
There was a few rough knocks on the door, but this was just a perfunctory gesture of politeness. The person knocking didn't wait for a response and pushed the door open and entered.
He was a blue-eyed France with a crew cut of light blond hair. In the sweltering heat of Africa, such a hairstyle was very comfortable, as it allowed for quick sweating and prevented insects from easily getting in. He exuded an aura of deathly glory, the smell of gunpowder. Not long ago, he had led a bloody attack, completely annihilating the Comora guards who were defending the palace and its last vestiges of honor.
Little Bob Buruo, the leader and field commander of this mysterious mercenary group.
My men told me you're not eating or sleeping.
He tried his best to maintain the elegance and refined manners of a France.
His wartime experience made him straightforward and decisive. His identity as a war hyena chasing blood and death made his etiquette and elegance seem even more hypocritical. In particular, the so-called aristocratic etiquette was essentially just a way to draw a line between himself and the lowly commoners and to show his difference. The arrogance and condescension hidden in his eyes could not be concealed at all.
Little Bob softened his tone and said, "Kang, you must be in top form. We need you to be alert and energetic to serve us, without any mistakes or errors."
Kang Jinzhu looked up at him and said indifferently, "What, do you have another ruin to blow up?"
Little Bob's expression stiffened for a moment, then he smiled calmly and said, "That's right."
He glanced at his watch and said, "You need to get some sleep and then eat something. If you can't sleep, we can provide medication, because we'll be leaving soon."
The experienced demolition engineer raised an eyebrow and asked, "Where to?"
Little Bob smiled. "The less you know, the better."
Kang Jinzhu looked at him for a moment, then slowly lowered his head. "Oh, so it's Gambia."
Little Bob's eyes widened in surprise.
Kang De's father looked down at the letter on the table and said softly, "Comora and Gambia were once one kingdom with a shared Civilization. Comora has a royal tomb, and Gambia has a similar one. Your father secretly manipulated this country, but even so, the young king wouldn't allow you to excavate your ancestors' tombs. So you orchestrated this scheme, launched a war, and eliminated the king."
"I think that since the King of Comora disagreed with your excavation of the tomb, the King of Gambia certainly wouldn't agree either. Their dedication to upholding ancestral honor is similar. So you orchestrated this whole scheme. The tombs on the Comora side have already been excavated. Next, you'll oust the self-proclaimed clever and cunning King of Gambia, and then take advantage of the chaos to begin excavating the ruins in Gambia. Am I right?"
The mercenary leader's expression grew increasingly cold, his eyes revealing surprise, admiration, and murderous intent.
Kang Jinzhu sighed, "Gambia's annexation of Comora has a certain legal basis, and intervening in this area does not bring any national interest benefits. The five permanent members of the UN Security Council will probably be indifferent to this, and the United Nations will not take any drastic measures. If your master is clamoring to intervene militarily, it will seem very strange and easily arouse the vigilance and curiosity of China, Russia, and even the United Kingdom and the United States."
"After all, in matters of state, no one gets up early without a reason, and getting up early will surely bring benefits."
"And I think that for Fr*nce, and even the United Nations to pass a resolution to intervene militarily and completely overthrow King Gambia and replace him with a 'democratic government,' so that you can thoroughly and calmly excavate that site, instead of hiring local workers to clumsily and almost destroy the tomb... there has to be a reason."
The China man paused for a moment, then continued, "After much thought, I believe there is no more justifiable reason than the brutal killing of several China citizens by Gambia soldiers in Comora."
"My motherland will be furious and will respond fiercely. Such an action is tantamount to a declaration of war. For both public and private reasons, China will certainly not let this go."
"What Fr*nce have always been wary of is China expanding its influence in Africa. You see Africa as your backyard, so how could you allow China troops to intervene? Therefore, you can reasonably take on all the responsibility and agree to the resolution to intervene militarily, letting France vent its anger for China. A round of appeasement and exchange is completed under the table of the five permanent members of the UN Security Council, with the France doing the work for the China, utterly destroying Gambia and demanding compensation and an apology."
All motives are reasonable.
"My country will not investigate this in detail, because Fr*nce has sufficient reason to do so. Gambia will sincerely apologize, severely punish those responsible, and a number of soldiers, officers, and even generals will die. The king will step down, and huge compensation will be paid to the families of the victims. Domestic public opinion will be appeased, and international prestige will be enhanced. Even if Fr*nce suppresses the idea of military intervention, he will inevitably gain other benefits."
"Even domestically, people would be happy to see such a scenario. After all, direct military intervention would cause tension in the West and even in Africa countries. We want to rise peacefully."
"Thus, all the nations were kept in the dark. You went through a long and winding road, but gained control of Gambia and Comora, allowing you to leisurely explore the wondrous things within the tombs... This process was very convoluted, very much in line with your Western style of doing things. You paid such a high price, but the gains must have been even greater."
At this point, Kang Jinzhu took off his glasses and placed them on the table.
The tone was flat.
"But... I'm afraid I won't survive."
He turned his head, looked at Little Bob, and gave him a cold, mocking smile.
"Actually, this idea and method could also be used to execute France citizens by shooting them, and it might even be more convenient. You changed your mind at the last minute, didn't you...?"
He said calmly, "After all, in your eyes, France lives are precious, while China lives are nothing, right?"
Little Bob wanted to say something.
But the China man had said everything.
This China man even guessed his fate, yet his eyes remained remarkably calm. It wasn't that he wasn't afraid, but he knew that fear was useless, and he also had to maintain his dignity in front of the enemy.
He opened his mouth, then finally sighed, "You see, sometimes smart people live more tiring and painful lives than foolish people, because they see through the ending but can't change it."
Kang Jinzhu shook his head and said, "No, I'd rather die fully conscious than be filled with regret on my deathbed."
A strange sense of respect rose in Little Bob's heart, perhaps an admiration for a wise man, because this China man had managed to deduce the complete plan from a few scattered clues and observations over the past few days.
Perhaps it's out of respect for the brave... Because as a mercenary, I've witnessed countless conflicts of interest, countless deaths, and countless ugly faces of humanity, so I have even greater respect for those who face death without fear.
He asked in a deep voice, "What regrets do you have?"
Kang Jinzhu said, "I want to make two phone calls to my family: my son and my wife."
Little Bob thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't agree to that. Now that you already know these things, I can't consent, lest you secretly leak the information."
"It's only natural. I was just trying to ask. I worked for you, opened that collapsed underground tomb, and saw those things. From that moment on, the ending was already sealed."
Kang Jinzhu's calm words made Little Bob a little embarrassed.
The China man picked up the paper in his hand. "A will is acceptable, isn't it?"
Little Bob thought for a moment, then shook his head apologetically. "I have the same concern. I'm not sure what coded messages you might have hidden in your writing. You can only dictate them, and then I'll write them down in French and translate them—that's all I can do. In fact, agreeing to your request is already somewhat risky. I only agreed out of respect for a father."
Kang Jinzhu looked at him. "You have a son too?"
"Yes, he's at that mischievous and arrogant age. I hope that in twenty years, he'll be Little Bob, I'll be Big Bob, and my father will be Old Bob."
Little Bob said seriously, "But not because of him... it's for my father, Kang. Everything I've done is for my father. He gave me selfless love and everything, and I will repay him with everything I have. I can see that you love your son just as much as he loves me."
Kang Jinzhu said in a low voice, "Is that so?"
Little Bob said seriously, "I sympathize with that young man, but there's nothing we can do about it. I understand his desperation. If I were him, if my father were in danger, I would do everything in my power to rescue him and kill everyone who tried to harm him, leaving no one alive."
The father from China said softly, "I don't want him to come to Africa to rescue me."
Little Bob chuckled derisively. "I'm afraid he won't be able to make it either."
Kang Jinzhu countered, "Isn't this great news for me?"
The France father's smile froze.
The China father continued, "He will grieve, but he won't know who the real murderer of his father was. For him, this hatred ended after he saw the Gambia government execute the 'murderer' on television. He took my ashes back, and with the company of family and friends, he finally moved on. I believe he will continue to live a kind and upright life, continuing his bright and promising future..."
Little Bob's expression froze; he thought of his son, who had been exposed to mercenary life since childhood.
For a moment, I didn't know what to say, nor whether I felt regret or envy.
"No matter what, if I could, I wouldn't want a young man to lose his father, but for my father, everyone is worth sacrificing. I wouldn't mind killing more people..."
He sighed, "For this, I can only apologize."
Kang Jinzhu thought for a moment, "I heard that your father is now spending his retirement in a villa outside Paris. It seems that his health is not very good. Is there anything in the tomb that can cure him? I am very curious about what is in the tomb that is worth your country spending so much money and attaching such importance to it?"
Little Bob was startled, a murderous glint flashing in his eyes. "... Don't try anything funny."
"Don't worry, I'm not an impulsive person," Kang Jinzhu said calmly. "The chances of ruining your plans are slim, and whether it succeeds or fails, I'll die, and it might even implicate my family, subjecting them to your vengeful revenge—I have no doubt that you would do that."
Little Bob was relieved.
"I'm sorry, Kang, and I don't expect your understanding or forgiveness. This is all we can do."
His tone then became more sincere and genuinely apologetic.
Kang Jinzhu remained silent for a full minute before revealing a bitter smile.
"Further discussion is pointless."
He said quietly, "I will cooperate with you and work for you. I won't play any tricks. Remember to bring my last words to China, and also—remember to put pressure on us to get the compensation as high as possible."
"... No problem, Kang, I promise you, I swear on my father's name."
"Well then, I've achieved my goal. All my efforts tonight weren't in vain." Kang Jinzhu put on his glasses, picked up his pen, and said, "I'll eat, and then I'll go to sleep. You can leave now."
Little Bob slowly stood up, then left, closing the door behind him.
This time the movement was very subtle.
With the pen tip suspended in the air, Kang Jinzhu's profile appeared frozen like a sculpture under the lamplight.
A moment later, water droplets splashed onto the paper, making a crisp sound.
Even with quick wit and calm wisdom, when he misses his wife and children, he is still just a mortal.
It is a body of flesh and blood.
He is her husband, and also her father.
He longed for his family far away; when was the last time he saw them?
No one knew that what lay ahead would be a farewell.
We've been separated more often than together since we were little, and I'll never see him again.
There is no greater suffering in the world than this.
Kang Jinzhu was a staunch materialist from childhood to adulthood. Even as his death approached, he showed no fear or pleading. Instead, he calmly summoned the enemy bandit leader. Through verbal exchanges and psychological maneuvering, he ultimately gained a certain degree of respect and understanding from the enemy and reached some consensus.
At least he didn't die a completely haphazard death.
He did his best to make arrangements for his affairs after his death.
He delivered his final words to his loved ones and tried his best to secure more compensation. As a husband and father, he always strived to provide a better life for his family, living as if he were dead, and wanting to do the same in death.
Now, in the stillness of the night, as I write my will, thinking of my family, my once calm and untroubled heart is now silently praying, asking of all the gods and Buddhas in the heavens.
Anyone can.
Anyone who hears this can.
Please help me.
He prayed for the mercy of fate, and for a single thought from the gods and Buddhas.
He was not praying for himself, but for his wife and his son.
May he soon emerge from his grief, remaining bright and pure, not becoming gloomy because of loss, not becoming indifferent because of separation, still pursuing the light, still full of hope, still harboring kindness, not blindly hating because of loss, and not becoming hostile to an entire tribe because of one incident.
I think it's possible.
He is, after all, my son.
Even though we were often apart when I was little, and I wasn't around much, I still managed to grow up to be a good kid. I also have Xiaoman, Wang Yongzhi, and his mom... It's definitely okay.
The child has grown up.
Thinking about this, he realized that there seemed to be no need to pray to gods or Buddhas.
Because that was his son.
He knew.
What this father didn't know was that his son wasn't thousands of miles away, but very close to him; his son had crossed thousands of miles of ocean and was stained with countless lives.
At this moment, Kang De was driving wildly through the desolate night road, speeding madly toward Moyani, his eyes filled with murderous intent, his gaze cold and unwavering.
But a simple signal device, capable of traversing the world, suddenly began to flash with an eerie red light.
Like a blood-soaked horn, it beckoned him to prepare for another round of slaughter.
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PS1: 5500 words, today's chapter is now combined into one... I'll write more tomorrow, goodnight goodnight -- By the way, I want to clarify something here to avoid you continuing to speculate: Kang De's parents were ordinary people in our understanding, at most among the elite, but still ordinary people. Writing about two parents with mysterious backgrounds, professions, and off-the-charts combat power is actually quite boring. Ordinary people also have the right to be great; rather, the greatness of ordinary people is more precious. That's all.