"Cough, cough!" Becker said. "Our East African War Faction has already prepared to take down the Yeke Kingdom. But considering the friendship between our two nations, we wish to let Your Majesty make two choices yourself."
The moment he said it, even Becker felt a little embarrassed. What sort of diplomatic mission opened by declaring it intended to destroy someone else's country?
Sure enough, Msiri's fists clenched, his face so gloomy it seemed water could drip from it. Yet he still restrained himself and asked, "Oh? What choices does your side intend to give me?"
"The first is to resist to the bitter end, after which the East African army will act personally. At that point, not even chickens and dogs will be spared," Becker said, his tone abruptly changing.
"Mr. Becker, I must say, you truly have great courage. I do not know how powerful East Africa's military strength truly is, but your mouth is certainly hard. Do you not know how grave the consequences of angering a monarch can be?" Msiri shot back without yielding an inch.
"Right now, you few are not in East Africa—you are in my hands. Surely you do not think a few dozen guns will let you run rampant here!
"I, Msiri, rule the Yeke Kingdom not merely through firearms, but through wisdom. Back then, there were so many slave traders, yet only I achieved such success.
"The moment you stepped into this royal city, I had already deployed warriors throughout the kingdom. Now, over a hundred gun barrels are aimed at your men, along with countless archers and spear wielders. The slightest suspicious movement, and you will be riddled like sieves in no time." Msiri spoke smugly to Becker.
"Er, Your Majesty, why would you say that? We carry weapons mainly to