"You're dreaming! This is utterly impossible!"
Muhammad Ali roared, but a frail old man could not intimidate the envoy of the Canal Supervisory Committee.
"My apologies, this is a notice, not a request. You and your government have only two choices: comply, or be made to comply."
"I'll kill you! Believe it or not!"
Muhammad Ali once again resorted to thuggery. He knew Europeans were all timid and cowardly.
Unhurriedly, the envoy unbuttoned his coat, revealing a thick bundle of explosives wrapped around his waist.
"I believe you will not."
The envoy removed his hat and gave a respectful bow. The guards in Manio Palace all involuntarily took a step back.
Muhammad Ali could only watch the man leave. Of course, he could have ordered the entire city placed under martial law and slaughtered the Canal Supervisory Committee's party, but then Egypt—and his family—would cease to exist.
Faced with such nakedly tyrannical terms, Muhammad Ali clenched his fists. Suddenly, blood began to pour from his nose. The surrounding palace maids and attendants tried to stop the bleeding, but it was all in vain. Before long, he drowned in his own blood.
Thus fell a hero of his age. No one in Egypt could obstruct the construction of the Suez Canal any longer. And the outrageous debts incurred during the canal's construction had also pronounced this nation's death sentence.
Destroying Egypt had become the consensus of all the great powers. After all, Muhammad Ali had a long record of prior offenses, making it easy enough for the powers to reach an agreement.
They only needed to see the benefits of removing Muhammad Ali. First, they would no longer need to worry about being deceived by that old bastard. Second, Egypt would become a region the great powers could freely fight over.