Paying to Suppress the Bandits

A renowned, highly respected, and secretly powerful female ruler.

An empire with a long history, whose ancestors were once prosperous, but now it is in turmoil.

The nation's power is declining, it suffers the humiliation of being betrayed by its former patrons, its national defense is in a mess, its finances are stretched thin, corruption is rampant in the political arena, and its naval funds have been misappropriated.

The new wallpaperer now faces an even greater threat.

The rebels caused chaos and even brazenly stormed a foreign embassy, causing an uproar in the court and among the public.

However, the traditional forces hidden behind the scenes each have their own agendas and plans.

At this critical juncture, Grand Secretary Yue was simultaneously feigning compliance with the traitors and maneuvering against the traditional forces. However, the shrewd and experienced ministers had their own ideas.

He addressed his staff with a powerful voice reminiscent of Qiu Zhongtang's darkest speech.

"Use barbarians to control thieves!"

He sent a telegram announcing that he had photographed Gambia and was specifically seeking out that foreign company to negotiate.

Here's a little-known fact: Gambia was once United Kingdom territory. It later gained independence but remained Commonwealth of Nations country. However, it withdrew from the Commonwealth a few years ago and no longer serves the Queen.

Incidentally, several West Africa coastal countries, led by Gambia, are now popular sex tourism destinations for middle-aged European and American women—and by the way, there's no extra word for sex here.

It means that middle-aged white women, whose figures have changed, whose skin is loose and covered in wrinkles, but whose attractiveness has become stronger, will go to underdeveloped Africa countries to find local black men to seduce.

This approach has a large market, is very popular, and presents enormous business opportunities.

Meanwhile, the invitation from the Grand Secretary Yue was delivered to Zhuerban, but nothing came of it. The main problem was that AWSL was a shell company; its Africa headquarters didn't even have a receptionist. Both Zhuerban and Moyani claimed that the chief was not there, and when the Grand Secretary asked the King for his contact information, he was also turned away.

So the golden retriever held its nose and went to find the United Kingdom troops stationed in Zhuerban. John Bull and his men went to the China camp to inquire and reported that they had not seen any trace of Kang De's activities, nor had they obtained any contact information. However, they made a special discovery—they saw China soldiers with grenade launchers forcing three civilians, two men and one woman, to run laps around the parade ground. It looked very inhumane.

"He disappears when you need him!"

Grand Secretary Yue was furious but at a loss. He didn't have Kang De's private contact information—although he had considered it, since maintaining communication could help them get things done—but certain unsubstantiated rumors he'd heard made the proud golden retriever decisively give up.

For example, he had heard that the president of Fr*nce's desserts had privately obtained Kang De's contact information through some channel, hoping to ease the tension between Fr*nce and this China superhuman through such private communication—and he did succeed, and made contact with Kang De.

However, not long after the two sides established contact, the presidents of Fr*nce received long text messages in Chinese from the China. When they were translated, they found that they were all highly offensive jokes about France.

Ultimately, the dessert president, unable to bear the humiliation, angrily blacklisted the China.

Grand Secretary Yue heard about this, he laughed for an hour and then gave up the idea of having a private chat with the China boy. But the problem now was that they had no direct way to contact Kang De.

The only way is through... China.

Damn it.

After sitting in his chair for several minutes, Grand Secretary Yue picked up the hotline phone on the table.

"Mr. Prime Minister."

The Home Secretary beside him whispered, "Are you really going to find Kang De? And through the China government?"

The golden retriever said sullenly, "Why not? What else can we do?"

"Given our understanding of Kang De, if Ian were to wipe out everyone at the United States embassy, China would probably secretly applaud and show mercy. Furthermore, if they were Ian as to why Ian was driven to this point, Ian frankly told them, we might also be in trouble..."

A strange look appeared on Grand Secretary Yue's face.

He said slowly, "That's not a problem. It would take Kang De at least a dozen hours to get here from China. By then, Ian would have already left with the Round Table, and he wouldn't have had a chance to ask about the details."

The Home Secretary paused for a moment.

He bent slightly, confining the conversation to their private exchange. "What about the Round Table? In my opinion, they certainly wouldn't mind taking in this out-of-control superhuman who's quite hostile to the government. Those people are bloodthirsty and morally bankrupt; they certainly wouldn't care what Ian has done. If we let the Round Table handle it, they'll definitely take Ian under their Round Table without hesitation. And if Kang De wants to kill Ian, he'll inevitably have to confront the Round Table... Your Excellency, I'm afraid..."

The prime minister looked up and glanced at his trusted advisor.

Their eyes met.

The Home Secretary saw a hidden, sinister edge in the eyes of the Grand Secretary.

"Could it be..." the golden retriever said calmly, "That's not a bad thing?"

In an instant, the Minister of the Interior fell silent, a look of horror flashing across his face. Almost instinctively, he looked to his left and right, staggered back two steps, and his lips were even trembling.

"This... this..."

Grand Secretary Yue slowly rose to his feet.

"Isn't this what Britain has always been doing?"

A strange light gleamed in his eyes, and his right hand was loosely clenched, as if holding a weapon passed down to him by past kings and prime ministers—the political blade of Britain, a national treasure that had stood for hundreds and thousands of years.

Named...

A troublemaker.

"The Round Table is too powerful." His voice was like a whisper, very soft, as if afraid of waking the target who knew nothing about it. "Kang De is also too powerful."

Just then, the call connected, Grand Secretary Yue's gloomy and cold expression suddenly turned into a beaming smile, "Hi, my friend from China, I know it's very late there, but I have a presumptuous request..."

After saying a few words, he hung up the phone and glanced at the Home Secretary.

The Home Secretary bowed and stepped back until he reached the door, where he closed it.

Grand Secretary Yue's hand touched another phone; he hesitated for a moment, then picked it up.

"It's me. I know it's presumptuous and intrusive, but I have to speak with that person."

The Home Secretary stood outside the door; the soundproofing was excellent, and not a sound could be heard. But he knew who the Prime Minister was talking to. He leaned against the door, closed his eyes, and made the sign of the cross.

Meanwhile, at the embassy, Kang De received a phone call.

"Ha?"

Hearing Miss Qin's strange explanation, he was shocked. "You managed to get me into this mess? Are the United Kingdom really that naive? Asking me to go and suppress bandits?"

"Of course not."

In a short period of time, domestic think tanks have already done some analysis— Grand Secretary Yue thought that the China on the first level, but in fact the China are already on the fifth level.

Qin Mengjin said, "The United Kingdom Prime Minister negotiated with Ian, proposing that he join the Round Table. This would have been a perfect opportunity for you to bring the Round Table Organization into the picture—but while that Prime Minister was playing along with Ian, he also asked you to go and suppress bandits... ugh, he asked you to deal with Ian. This clearly puts you in direct conflict with the Round Table."

Kang De smiled. "But I was destined to confront the Round Table anyway."

"It's different," Qin Mengjin said. "You haven't revealed your identity yet, and neither the Round Table nor Britain knows who is attacking and threatening them... Although we know very little about the Round Table, we are certain that it has a deeply rooted position and a long-standing and enormous influence in Britain. It would be unwise to openly oppose such a secretive organization. Although you are not afraid, you cannot let your family be implicated."

"Really."

Kang De thought for a moment, "I asked Ian to give Britain five minutes, but it takes me more than ten hours to get from China to London. During that time, Ian would have already run off with the Round Table. That golden retriever obviously wants me to confront the Round Table... Ha, a troublemaker is a troublemaker."

Qin Mengjin asked, "What are your plans?"

"He's using a scheme against me. He'll ask the Grand Secretary Yue the bandits, and I'll take all the 1.8 million taels of silver and the goods we've recovered," Kang De sneered. "He asked me to get rid of Ian, but he didn't ask me to fight the Round Table. What's his plan? He'll take advantage of these ten-odd hours to smash up the Round Table, and then 'I'll' come and pick up the scraps."

Qin Mengjin's expression revealed an expression of "I knew it." Just then, a colleague handed her a note. She glanced at it and frowned. "There's another problem here."

What's the problem?

"That might be a bit convoluted, Kang De."

Qin Mengjin frowned slightly. "Now that you've received a formal invitation from the United Kingdom, shouldn't we let them know that An Youyi is a friend of a friend of yours, and that you're already aware of this?"

Upon hearing this, Kang De's expression shifted. "Oh, damn."

This is indeed a problem.

The golden retriever on Downing Street is plotting to incite a fight between Kang De and the Round Table. If he knew that An Youyi was Kang De's friend, he would definitely try to influence the Round Table to kill An Youyi. Then Kang De and the Round Table would inevitably have no way to back down and would definitely have to fight a big battle—fighting is fine, but An Youyi is doomed.

However, if we continue to avoid discussing this with the United Kingdom, they will likely connect all the dots when they come to their senses later—for example, why did the inexplicable and perfectly timed car accident happen, and how did Ian, a dying man, manage to kill so many people and speed all the way to the embassy to cause trouble? Once the seeds of suspicion are sown, it will almost certainly lead to a certain outcome.

Kang De pondered for a moment, then said, "Don't tell them."

Qin Mengjin hesitated, then said, "What if they realize what's happened later and become even more hostile towards you..."

"Not now?" Kang De said calmly, "There's no difference."

A thought flashed through his mind, and he gave the order. Ian, on the embassy's rooftop, brandished his heavy machine gun and roared, "Five minutes have passed! We can forget about this Round Table! Who do you want me to start killing?"

"Don't be impulsive, Ian! I've already spoken with the Round Table!" Grand Secretary Yue's voice rang out urgently. "They'll be here soon, and they'll talk to you in person!"

"Don't try anything underhanded! The consequences of betrayal are something you can't afford!"

"Absolutely not! Don't worry! Absolutely not!"

The golden retriever instructed the MI5 chief to stall Ian, then picked up the phone again. He got a number, answered, and put on a warm, smiling face, "Hey, is this Kang De? This is..."

"Hello, Mr. Prime Minister, this is AWSL China Branch." A sweet, pleasant female voice said, "Our Chairman, Mr. Kang, is already aware of your purpose."

Damn it, I, the Britain Prime Minister, have to contact your front desk to get help from you, Kang De?

The golden retriever's forehead veins throbbed as he tried to suppress his anxiety and anger, speaking in as elegant and composed a tone as possible, "I wish to speak with Mr. Kang De immediately..."

"I'm sorry, you may have to wait a moment."

"Why?"

"Our chairman said he saw it on Twitter and guessed you must be very anxious, so he urgently convened a company meeting to discuss with the management how to extort you."

... Hold!

Grand Secretary Yue was furious. What blatant disrespect! And what a shameless reason for this disrespect! What was even more shameless was that he actually said it out loud!

As a politician, he possessed basic manners and self-control. He took a deep breath and said in a solemn voice, "This is not a joke. It concerns the safety of over a thousand innocent lives, and even the peace and stability of the entire world. I urge Mr. Kang De, in the spirit of humanitarianism, to..."

Mr. Kang De said, 'We are evil dragons of the East, who only do bad things and know nothing about humanitarianism, just as we have never been to places like Iraq Syria to defend peace'...

The woman's voice remained composed, pleasant, and elegant, with a very standard broadcasting tone, but in this context, every word carried a hint of sarcasm. "By the way, Mr. Kang De would like to ask whether the Britain government will provide AWSL's United Kingdom branch with a 99-year tax exemption policy, whether it welcomes AWSL Company's investment in the UK, and whether it is willing to embrace free trade and focus on industrial development together with AWSL..."

The Prime Minister's roar echoed once again from 10 Downing Street.

As darkness fell.

As London's lights come on, traffic jams begin to appear everywhere.

Tonight, the entire city's attention is destined to be drawn to Nine Elms.

--Although the Britain government blocked all the radio signals in this area, it was too late. Besides, the people still had cars, legs, and mouths. The American Empire embassy was so conspicuous, so ostentatious, and so hated. Now that it had been robbed by bandits, it was of course a cause for celebration and was being enthusiastically sung by the people.

From Ian's escape from Military Intelligence Section 5 to his high-speed car crash into the embassy, and then to his capture of the British ambassador, a storm that would sweep the world was brewing in the span of nearly an hour.

The internet was in chaos, with people whispering amongst themselves and reporters and independent media outlets snapping photos from vantage points. This was undoubtedly the most eye-catching news story, and everyone was waiting for the outcome.

The London Metropolitan Police Service, the United Kingdom's national police headquarters, is less than a kilometer away from the United States Embassy, and it was brightly lit at this time.

Most of the police officers were mobilized despite their superiors' fury and wrath, as tonight's events were indeed serious. However, some clerks and officials remained at headquarters to receive and send orders, process documents, and relay messages—and of course, there was also a covert mission.

"It's okay, everything will be alright... They'll be here to pick us up soon."

In a heated waiting room, several shaken individuals sat together, comforting each other. They were members of an organization dedicated to "Help All Victimized Women," and had experienced a horrific ordeal that day—while searching for a girl kidnapped the previous night, they stumbled upon a gruesome murder and dismemberment scene, were subsequently arrested by armed forces, and then involved in a car accident near Palace of Westminster...

They were then escorted to Metropolitan Police headquarters and received basic wound treatment and questioning. The police refused to let them leave without any reason or justification.

What are they going to do to us? Who can we trust?

The men and women embraced and cuddled together. After what had happened during the day, they could no longer trust the country's government institutions—no one dared to imagine what their fate would have been if the car accident hadn't brought them to the public's attention.

A man looked at the woman curled up alone and tentatively reached out his hand. "Shalana..."

The woman's body jolted, and she jumped up in alarm. The man awkwardly withdrew his hand, while the woman slowly sat down and whispered, "... I'm sorry."

"It's okay... I meant to say, are you alright?"

The man's tone was concerned—when they went to the Viking Skull's hideout during the day, Shalana volunteered to go first, wanting to sneak in and gather information. As agreed, they followed at a distance, ready to set off to rescue her immediately if Shalana gave any warning, and to be prepared to call the police at any time.

Then they heard Shalana's terrified screams, but when they set off to rescue her, they were arrested and taken into custody by the armed men who arrived later, and stuffed into a car. Throughout the entire journey, they did not see Shalana, and were filled with fear and worry, even guessing that their brave and strong companion had met with misfortune.

But after the car accident, the police arrived and rescued their companion, Shalana, from another overturned vehicle. Sarah was found stuffed into a car full of body bags, and it was unimaginable what those beasts were going to do to her... She looked terrified.

"I... I'm fine."

Shalana was draped in a thin blanket, and she forced a smile, but her withered expression and thin face didn't reveal much joy—since she joined this feminist organization, her companions had rarely seen this silent woman laugh heartily; she seemed to have endless worries on her mind.

She looked at her hesitant companion and asked, "Rein, is there anything else?"

"Indeed... there is." Rein stammered, "No offense, just curious, Shalana, how did you know there were clues in that place?"

Last night, two China girls were kidnapped. It's related to Viking Skull. This is exclusive information from Shalana, supposedly from a hidden informant. Trusting their companion, they followed without suspicion, only to encounter this situation... Thinking about it carefully, the whole thing seems suspicious from beginning to end.

Shalana noticed the strange looks on her companions' faces and gave a wry smile, "I..."

Just then, the door was pushed open.

A police officer walked in, and several feminists immediately jumped up and started talking all at once.

Why are you leaving us here?

When can we see a lawyer?

"I want to call my family!"

Give us back all our personal belongings!

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, please be quiet." The officer shrugged helplessly. "You'll be leaving soon, but before that, you must sign a confidentiality agreement—for the sake of the country. Also, Ms. Shalana, the police need to ask you some questions privately."

A plump woman blocked Shalana's path behind her. "Why? She's tired!"

"We can wait until she recovers," the officer said, "But you'll have to wait too."

"This is simply..."

"It's alright," Shalana said softly. "Where do we begin?"

The officer stepped aside and gestured for the officer to proceed.

Shalana smiled at her companions, followed the officer out of the room, and suddenly said, "Theoretically speaking, they can go home now, right?"

"Yes, miss, all you need is a confidentiality agreement."

The woman stopped speaking, but turned to look at her friends one last time and smiled slightly.

She followed the police officer down the long corridor. Most of the police force had been deployed to the embassy to maintain order. The cold corridor was deserted, with only the sound of silent footsteps echoing.

The surveillance camera faithfully recorded the scene, displaying it on the screen. A gray-haired police officer tossed away his cigarette butt, exhaled a smoke ring, and said, "Some people's tastes are truly unimaginable."

He stared at a file in his hand, a photograph of Shalana pressed under a paperclip. The woman's gaze was empty and numb, like a piece of living flesh. The file was densely packed with text, much of it altered.

The officer sighed and turned on the paper shredder next to him.

The machine whirred and whirred. He turned to look at the computer in the monitoring room, retrieved the video footage of Shalana walking through the corridor from the surveillance cameras, edited and saved it, and then sent it to the technical department.

"Put it out."

In the darkness, a kilometer away, an Aston Martin was parked by the roadside. The person inside glanced down at their phone and let out a laugh that was hard to decipher.

He opened the car door and looked at the brightly lit embassy.

"In China terms," he laughed, "Three joyful things have come to the door at once."

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PS1: Update... This is so boring, let's fast forward to Ivanka on Pornhub.