For Tajik Zarhad, this was a dark day.
"Fuck the peace talks!"
He returned to his camp and roared at his adjutant.
"Those damned traitors! Scum who sold out their country! They sold the nation to those white pigs, and now they expect us to negotiate peace! Fuck the peace talks! We'll fight those bastards until the very last moment and never compromise!"
"But we don't have much funding left..."
"Damn it!"
Hearing this, Zarhad roared and dropped heavily into his chair, falling silent. Then, his phone suddenly rang. Zarhad picked it up and answered.
"Who is it?!"
"Hello, Mr. Zarhad."
The voice on the other end was gentle and calm. It spoke Zarhad's native language, but he had never heard this voice before.
"Who are you? How did you get my number?"
"Who I am is unimportant. What matters is that I can provide everything you want."
"Heh heh heh."
Zarhad sneered.
"So, you're some philanthropist."
"No, I am not a philanthropist. I am merely a Peace Envoy, one who stands with those being bullied."
The other party was not swayed by Zarhad's mockery.
"May I ask, Mr. Zarhad, what is your goal?"
"Do you even need to ask? Of course it's to drive those bastards out of our country!"
"But you know that is impossible. Do you know why?"
"...What do you mean?"
Zarhad frowned at the voice from the receiver.
"Because this is not a war, Mr. Zarhad. Perhaps you dislike hearing me say that, but it is the truth. Look, they fabricated baseless accusations, invaded your homeland, bombed your cities, and slaughtered your people. But what can you do? Kill a few soldiers? Blow up a few tanks? What does that achieve? They are soldiers. They were meant to die."
"...So?"
"So I will help you