My own war game

Chapter 343 Gradually Shaken Faith

In a small, secluded house in a slum in Cape Town.

Mandela hesitated for a moment but still bowed to Margaret and said, "Your Highness, I am sorry for not knowing your identity before."

"That's not important." Margaret waved her hand and pushed He Chi out. "Just listen to him from now on."

"Mr. Mandela, does your African National Congress have armed forces?" He Chi asked straight to the point.

"No, Mr. He, we have never advocated the use of force and have not made any preparations in this regard." Mandela told the truth.

"Then let's take a step back. How many people can you contact? Are there any strong and healthy people among them?"

"That's true. We have many young men who are porters."

"Very good! Find some strong workers. It doesn't need to be more than thirty people. Bring them here and I will give them emergency training." He Chi instructed mysteriously.

"Mr. He, what are you doing?" Mandela on the side was completely confused about what was going on.

He Chi stood up and faced the man who had spent nearly thirty years in prison because of political compromise in history. "My friend, please remember one thing."

“Having the support of the armed forces, whether it is needed or not, is an important backing for politicians.”

"If you really don't have it, then at least make your opponent feel like you do."
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An hour later, dozens of strong black guys followed He Chi to the beach, and Jima, who had left earlier, was already waiting there with a few people.

"Everything you want is here. I brought all the spare equipment." The British girl stepped on a dozen large boxes.

The metal box was opened, revealing standard military uniforms without collar patches.

These clothes were designed by Christine herself, and they were largely inspired by the characteristics of German clothing during World War II: the jackets were simple, single-breasted, with epaulettes, and cuffs with buckles that could be adjusted in width. The hems of the jackets were shorter.

The trousers are straight-leg, with two large pockets and reinforced knees and calves.

The biggest change is to make everyone's shoulders very hard and high, and to use metal decorations on the clothes.

Everyone on the submarine, including Christine, thought that the uniform was great, except He Chi, who felt a little uncomfortable with the visual image - it looked like a fancy security guard in a real estate sales office in the future.

Regardless, the visual impact of these costumes is great, especially when multiple people are wearing them at the same time.

"Everyone change clothes, now!" He Chi commanded the strong stevedores to change into military uniforms, and then issued his first order.

"From now on, no one is allowed to smile! Keep your face straight! Don't show your teeth. Those who can't do this will be punished with a stick!"

The next second, the whole team felt different.

The average height of the team is 185cm. Everyone is wearing a dark, broad-shouldered military uniform and standing in a row. Their dark faces are expressionless, and more than twenty pairs of eyes are staring at you.

Mandela felt uncomfortable being stared at.

"Okay, there's no time to teach them anything else. Just be careful not to move too much when you walk." He Chi clapped his hands and called Jima over, "Give them weapons. No need to equip them with bullets. Just pretend they're good to go."

Thompson submachine guns from World War II were distributed one after another, and the whole team looked murderous, but in fact these people didn't even know how to turn on the safety.

"Now everyone is following Mr. Mandela into the city. He is shouting in front, and anyone who doesn't listen will be beaten!"

"If anyone runs away, pull him over and beat him with the butt of a rifle!"

"If there's anyone trying to rob, pull him over and beat him up with the butt of a rifle!"

"If anyone resists, pull him over and beat him up with the butt of a rifle!"

Mandela was a little confused when he saw the "soldiers" in front of him. He asked in doubt, "Sir, is this really appropriate? It sounds like we are more like thugs." "Of course, if you want to negotiate with the government, you must first control your own people, and violence is definitely the fastest way." He Chi then patted the young lawyer on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry, our people will follow you. If there is any emergency, we will help you deal with it."

"Your task is to start thinking about what conditions to put forward when negotiating with the government."

In Cape Town, the chaos in the city continues. A group of robbers took the opportunity to break open the door of a store and looted the supplies inside.

A thin man just bent down to pick up the clothes scattered on the ground when the sky above his head suddenly turned dark.

The thin man raised his head in confusion and saw that more than a dozen tall figures had surrounded him.

The wooden butt of the gun came crashing down on his head.

Boom boom boom!!! This is the sound of the butt of the gun hitting flesh and bone.

"what!!!"

"Stop fighting!! I won't steal anymore!"

"Please, I only took two cans of sugar, stop fighting!"

There were screams in the store, and others had already started beating the next one.

A black storm began to blow from the south of the city. Mandela took off his suit and changed into a military uniform, holding a loud speaker and shouting on the street.
"My fellow ANC members, gather around me, we need to unite!"

"Stop the arson! Stop the looting! Dangerous elements will be punished most severely!"

This time his voice was no longer ignored, and the scattered crowd was slowly gathering around him.

I couldn't help but listen. Didn't you see that the soldiers around me were carrying submachine guns, with blood on the butts of the guns.

Violence brought chaos, but it was also violence that restored order. The crowds grew larger and larger, and Mandela was like a sponge that absorbed water, with followers gathering around him again.

His eloquence also had the opportunity to be demonstrated, and people finally listened to him again.

Looking at everything in front of him, Mandela felt that his worldview was once again impacted. He had been wandering among the villagers, giving grassroots speeches, and knew how difficult it was to gather so many people.

All my efforts over the years now seem to be less useful than dozens of submachine guns without bullets.

Is violence really meaningless?
The young politician's ideals began to waver, and this was all caused by the man around him.

"He, which neighborhood are we going to next?" Mandela asked the Oriental man next to him.

"We won't go to the block." He Chi turned around and faced Mandela. "This morning's incident proved that we can make this city chaotic, and you just proved that we can also restore peace to the city. This gives us two key bargaining chips."

"And now it's your turn to maximize your interests at the negotiation table."

Outside the mayor's residence in Capet, there were armed military police and soldiers. Barbed wire fences blocked the middle of the road, and the guards were facing a serious enemy.

In the mayor's office, there were constant roars of "Use live ammunition! Let the soldiers in front switch to live ammunition! I want to let these country bumpkins know where their position is!"

The door suddenly opened, and the secretary walked in tremblingly, "Mr. Mayor, a Mandela lawyer wants to see you. He said he can control the current situation."

"Asshole! Why didn't you knock? Where are your manners!" The mayor, who was already in a bad mood, cursed, "Whoever it is, get him out!"

"Mr. Mayor, please calm down. We wanted to come in on our own initiative." A strange voice came from the door, and a man in a waiter's uniform walked in. He held a revolver in his right hand and was playing with a hand grenade in the other hand.

He Chi looks like a terrorist from later times.

(End of this chapter)