Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1023 A Billion Dollar Bounty!
Lebia, near the desert city, the "Musician" defense command.

The air felt as heavy as if it had been cast with lead.

The room was filled with thick cigar smoke, but it couldn't suppress the anxiety and doubt that were about to burst out of everyone's hearts.

On the electronic sand table, a blue arrow representing the Libyan National Army (LNA) coldly pierces Savinnu, like the Sword of Damocles hanging over the "Grey Wolf's" head.

Another glaring red magnetic nail is firmly pinned somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea, symbolizing the USS Marlin, an American arms transport ship laden with death and poised to become the final straw that breaks the camel's back.

The polar bear's thick fingers nearly crushed the cigar he was holding: "Boss! That's a fucking Stars and Stripes ship! It's a hornet's nest! Stir it, and the whole Mediterranean will explode! What are we going to do? Row over in a bathtub and greet them with RPGs? That's fucking suicide!"

His voice boomed in the confined space, carrying an almost desperate anger.

The hunter clutched his cold, precision sniper rifle, his voice chilling enough to freeze the air: "Boss, I've always respected you. But this time... it's insane! The sea? Is that where we're supposed to be? Our men are good at playing in the sand, navigating alleys, and climbing rocks, but they're not fucking pirates!"

He paused, each word like an icicle striking Song Heping's decision, "Where's the ship? Where are the experienced sailors who can steer? How are we going to get close to that iron turtle covered in eyes? How are we going to run away after we steal the stuff? This plan has more holes than a sieve!"

Even the usually silent "Queen" couldn't deny it with an open word: "Boss, it's not technically feasible. Even if we could gather the ships and people, as soon as we get close, the other side can instantly send a distress signal into the sky. Right now, in the Red Sea, the Mediterranean, and the Indian Ocean, American warships are like sharks smelling blood. If a helicopter swoops in, we'll all be fish food."

Her fingertips swiped rapidly across the tablet, instantly simulating several glaring red warning lines on the screen, pointing directly at the red dot on the Mediterranean Sea.

Ferrari spread his hands, his gaze sweeping over everyone before finally settling on Song Heping: "The most crucial issue—VBSS (Boarding Search)! Who here has received professional training in maritime assault, boarding, and submarine search? Who understands it?" His tone was heavy. "No one, except you. But what can you do alone? Can one person withstand an entire armed escort and potentially instantaneous air support?"

The doubts, like a dense hailstorm, pelted the silent figure beside the sand table.

The excitement on Jiang Feng, Collins, Klein, and Henry's faces was replaced by solemnity.

Song Heping became the center of the storm.

But Song Heping did not immediately refute it.

He slowly walked to the window.

Outside the window, the Libyan desert twists and steams under the scorching midday sun, the endless sand dunes like crouching giants, roaring silently in the heatwave.

Under the dim, yellow sky, the whole world seemed anxious and hopeless.

His back was to everyone, his figure somewhat blurred in the bright light. Only heavy breathing and the low hum of electronic equipment remained in the command center.

"What you said is all correct."

Song Heping finally spoke, his voice not loud, but exceptionally clear, piercing through the noise, carrying a heart-stopping calm.

He slowly turned around, his gaze like two bottomless, icy pools, slowly and steadily sweeping over each face in the command post, each one etched with complex emotions.

"The risks are frighteningly high, the difficulties are countless, and the hope of success is slim..."

A faint, cold smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "It looks smaller than a camel threading a needle."

This almost self-deprecating admission caused the air in the command center to freeze for a moment.

The polar bear opened its mouth as if to say something, but was abruptly silenced by Song Heping's suddenly raised voice.

"but!"

His voice boomed like thunder, carrying a resolute determination to risk everything, as his fingers, like iron rods, fiercely stabbed at Savinnu's blue symbol on the sand table, the symbol of the death noose.

“Tell me the hell! Is there any other way to survive besides cowering and waiting for the American bombs to fall, or being worn down to death in Savinnu by Saif with the stuff we ‘sent’ over there?!”

His finger suddenly turned, thrusting with tremendous force at the red magnetic nail representing the "Marlin"! "Defend? We can't afford to lose! Attack? Even if we risk our lives to capture Savinnu, we'll be skinned alive! We'll just be providing the Americans with a ready-made, unshielded target for their satellites and stealth bombers! Retreat? Give back the territory our brothers fought for, the roots we finally established? Go back to North Darfur?"

He sneered, "Do you think that if we back down and cower, those Americans, British, and hoopoe scum will let us off the hook? That they'll forget about the existence of 'Musician' Defense?! Dream on!"

The command post was deathly silent.

Only Song Heping's heavy breathing echoed.

Everyone was struck hard by the naked despair and cruel reality in his words.

He grabbed the laser pointer from the table, and a blinding red dot shot out instantly, precisely hitting the "Marlin" on the electronic sand table. "Right here!"

Song Heping's voice was resolute, carrying a desperate madness, "Only by focusing on this! Cut off Vincent's lifeline! Make Saif cut off his blood supply in Savinnu! Only then can we disrupt the Americans' entire plan! Only then can we buy that crucial breathing space! Time! With time, we can find a way to survive! Only then can we find a way to keep the 'musician' alive!"

"As for how to do it..." Song Heping's gaze swept over the surprised and uncertain faces, and he said, word by word, "Who the hell says that we have to go and confront them head-on?"

The red laser dot trembled slightly at the core of that gray area, like a bomb about to explode.

"I'm going to use someone else to do my dirty work."

"Borrow a knife?"

Ferrari's brow furrowed, and he couldn't help but press, "Boss, whose knife do we need? Who has the guts, the ability, and the willingness to stir up this hornet's nest for us? Are you counting on Haftar? Or the Egyptians? They'd love for us to fight the Americans to the death!"

"Yes, old squad leader."

Jiang Feng scratched his spiky short hair, looking puzzled. "This knife isn't easy to lend! Who's willing to be the scapegoat?"

Song Heping's gaze slowly swept over the crowd, finally landing on the red magnetic nail, his voice low and clear:
"Do Americans have many enemies? Internationally, especially on this land?"

"Lots...of course there are lots!"

Ferrari answered instinctively, then his eyes widened in confusion, "But who would risk their life for us? Song, are you running a fever?"

He couldn't help but scoff, thinking it was utter nonsense.

Song Heping ignored his sneer, his voice carrying a seductive power: "What if we offer a price they can't refuse?"

He paused, his gaze sharp, and clearly uttered the number that would stop anyone's heart:
"One billion dollars."

Time seemed to freeze in the command center. One billion dollars! This word struck like an invisible shockwave, crashing into everyone's eardrums and their hearts!

The cigar in the polar bear's hand fell to the ground with a "thud," scattering a few sparks, but he didn't notice. He just opened his mouth wide and stared wide-eyed, as if he were seeing the person in front of him for the first time.

The hunter's arm muscles, gripping the sniper rifle, were visibly tense, and for the first time, a violent tremor appeared in his cold eyes.

The Queen's fingers, gripping the tablet, curled slightly, and the flight path map on the screen seemed to blur for a moment.

Jiang Feng gasped, his mouth agape, wide enough to fit a fist.

Collins and Klein exchanged a glance, both seeing disbelief and horror in each other's eyes.

Henry's hand, which was adjusting his glasses, froze in mid-air.

Ferrari's sneer froze completely, turning into a blank, lifeless expression.

One billion dollars!

This number itself is a devil, a devil that can shake up the entire dark world of the Middle East!
It can buy mountains of weapons, hire countless desperados, instantly expand the weakest organization into a behemoth, and make the most cautious tyrant take risks!
In Lebia, in Syria, in Yemen, in Iligo, in every war-torn, precarious corner, what does a billion dollars mean?
Those are countless lives, the power to overthrow a small country, and a divine oracle that can drive any organization or individual mad!
"Or equivalent military equipment."

Song Heping added, his voice regaining its usual cold, all-encompassing quality.

“Any organization, any gang, or even any individual, no matter who they are or what methods they use—if they can sink the Marlin, a billion dollars is theirs.”

He picked up the red "Marlin" magnetic nail and casually fiddled with it between his fingers, as if it were not a giant ship but an insignificant toy.

"We don't need to have ships, we don't need to know VBSS, and we don't need to go through the American firepower."

Song Heping's voice carried a cold calculation, "We just need to spread this bounty like a plague throughout the entire Middle Eastern underworld. Let those organizations that are being suffocated by the Americans and are grinding their teeth in hatred, let those desperate criminals who will do anything for money, let those madmen who have mastered strange methods... all of them get moving!"

His gaze swept over the crowd, a cruel smile playing on his lips: "A billion dollars is enough to make the Mediterranean boil, to make all the jackals and hyenas in the Middle East turn red-eyed and pounce on this American ship. Vincent wants to drain us dry with arms? I'll use a billion dollars to buy chaos, chaos that will completely collapse his logistics lines! Not enough? I'll add more! Problems that money and arms can solve aren't problems! We'll sit back and watch them fight like dogs! Whoever wins in the end, as long as the 'Marlin' sinks, we're the winners! That's the difference!"

　Asking for a monthly ticket! Asking for a monthly ticket!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)