Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1136 Something Happened in the North

In fact, Song Heping did not intentionally humiliate Hafiz.

Having witnessed so many life-and-death situations, one would theoretically become numb to them.

But the sights he'd witnessed in the past few days—the suffering of the lower classes and the luxury cars he'd just seen in the parking lot—created a stark contrast between the two worlds, and he couldn't help but utter sarcastic remarks.

Although she knew very well that the president in front of her was also someone who had been forced into a difficult position, she just couldn't help herself.

I thought Hafiz would be furious.

Unexpectedly, a dozen seconds later, Song Heping saw that the flush of anger that had risen on Hafiz's face was rapidly fading.

Soon, the other party actually calmed down.

"can."

Hafiz straightened his suit collar, seemingly realizing that his outburst of anger was also a loss of composure.

His tone became steady and flat.

"If Mr. Song takes a liking to those things, he may take them all."

His open-mindedness caught Song Heping somewhat off guard.

I originally thought Hafiz would get angry, or even kick me out.

That's fine too.

The cook has now extricated himself from his predicament.

To be honest, there's not much point in staying in a godforsaken place like Celia.

Syria's oil-producing region is in the northeast, which is currently occupied by the Kurds, who are supported by the United States. It will probably be difficult to profit from oil there.

The war has led to the collapse of Syria's economy. At present, let alone tax revenue, even basic administrative expenses are difficult to sustain, so it seems that they cannot offer much compensation.

The only profitable aspect is using Syria as a route for smuggling arms into the Lebanon and Balestrethan regions.

But this level of value isn't enough to make me stay here and risk my life.

Therefore, even though Hafez is still president, he is of little value to Song Heping.

Unexpectedly, the other party not only didn't get angry, but also let Song Heping take it if he wanted it.

Hafiz's concession gave Song Heping a somewhat positive impression.

He saw it.

Hafiz is really not fit to be president.

Especially the president of this war-torn country.

He wasn't assertive enough.

To accomplish great things in chaotic times, one must be a strong person.

Although strongman politics centralizes power, it is at least very effective in times of chaos.

"I was just kidding."

Song Heping also knew when to stop.

Seeing Hafiz's respect for him was enough.

Song Heping really didn't care about those dozen or so luxury cars.

"Mr. President, please don't take it to heart."

Hafiz paused slightly, then looked up at Song Heping.

He was also surprised.

I thought mercenary leaders and the like were all greedy, but I never expected Song Heping to be an exception.

Hafiz's expression caught Song Heping's attention, so he explained, "Mr. President, I came to Celia only to help a friend. As for money, I really want to earn some, but we at Dongda University have a saying: 'A gentleman loves money, but he earns it in a proper way.' In your country's current state, even if I ask you for high service fees, I'm afraid you'll be squeezing them out of the people. I don't care about that kind of money."

"That……"

Hafiz's eyes lit up.

What do you want?

Song Heping said, "I will tell you when I have thought it through. Of course, my compensation is very reasonable and will not put you in a difficult position."

A hint of surprise and admiration crept onto Hafiz's thin face. He nodded vigorously: "No problem, Mr. Song, you are a distinguished guest of our country. Please feel free to call me anytime if you need anything."

As he spoke, Hafiz picked up a pen and paper from the table, scribbled down a number, and handed it to Song Heping.

"I can guarantee you will receive the compensation you deserve."

Song Heping took the piece of paper and glanced at it.

This isn't a business card; it's a number that was temporarily written on a piece of paper.

This means that this number will never be made public; it is Hafiz's private number.

Being able to get this number meant that Hafiz didn't consider him an outsider. "Then..."

Hafiz stood up.

Song Heping also stood up.

"Dinner is ready, Mr. Song and Colonel Yevgeny. Let's have dinner together so I can express my gratitude to you."

……

While Song Heping was having dinner with Hafez, in a hidden command post in eastern Syria, near the border with Ilig,...

Bakdadi stared intently at the images on his phone, his lips trembling slightly—the screen displayed photos of the aftermath of the attack on the De Hook supply depot: charred wreckage, exploded vehicles, and weapon parts scattered everywhere…

"Trash! A bunch of trash!"

After his outburst, he slammed the ceramic cup in his hand to the ground, shards and dark brown tea splashing everywhere.

His face was contorted with extreme rage, and his deep-set eyes burned with an almost insane flame.

“We have tens of millions of dollars! Enough to arm a brigade! And those precious ‘jihadists’! Right here in Dehook, on Iligo territory under our control, they were destroyed by a militia! And you bunch of trash couldn’t even catch them by the tail! Tell me! What incompetence! What a disgrace!”

His voice echoed in the makeshift command post. Several senior commanders in camouflage uniforms and black headscarves in front of him fell silent, heads bowed, unable to meet his gaze.

"That Dongda student! That devil named Song Heping!"

Baghdadi's fingernails almost dug into his palms.

"It's him again! He's the one who caused us so many losses in the northwest! I want him dead! I'll make his head into a goblet! I'll let his body float on the Euphrates! Order all our forces in Cyria to advance on Damascus! Find him and kill him at all costs!"

A commander in charge of logistics and transportation stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly: "Your Excellency Caliph... your will is the direction of our actions. But... but the losses at Dehok are too heavy. More than sixty percent of the supplies we obtained through northwestern Iligor were transited and distributed through Dehok. Now..."

He paused, stealing a glance at Baghdadi's increasingly grim face, and continued with difficulty, "The ammunition, medicine, and especially anti-tank missiles and heavy machine gun ammunition reserves of various combat units within Siri are critically low. The offensives of many units have been slowed down or even halted due to logistical problems. We... we urgently need time to re-establish at least one temporary transit point in Iligor in order to resume continuous resupply to the Siri direction. Until then... a large-scale, long-range offensive is probably... probably unsustainable."

Baghdadi's chest heaved violently as he gasped for breath, like a trapped wild beast.

But he wasn't a brainless man, and he knew his subordinates were telling the truth.

Without ammunition, even the most fanatical warrior is just a sitting duck.

De Hooke's strike hit him squarely where it hurt.

He remained silent for nearly a minute, his suppressed anger almost setting the air ablaze.

Finally, he forced out an order through gritted teeth, filled with resentment and rage: "Then build it now! As fast as you can! Contact our people in Nineveh province and have them provide everything they need! Meanwhile, military operations within Cyria... temporarily halt, focusing on consolidating existing areas of control. But—"

He abruptly raised his head, his gaze sweeping over all his men: "—Keep a close watch on Damascus, keep a close watch on that Song Heping! Once supplies are restored, I want to take Holmes first, then raze Damascus to the ground! I'll wash away our shame with his blood!"

"As you wish, Your Majesty the Caliph!"

The crowd felt as if they had been granted a pardon, responded in unison, and quickly withdrew to carry out the order.

Baghdadi was the only one left in the command post. He walked to the wall and slammed his fist into the location of Damascus on the map of Syria, his eyes filled with unyielding resentment and murderous intent.

……

Two days later.

Inside a luxury mansion on the outskirts of Damascus.

Song Heping stood in front of a huge electronic screen, which displayed a real-time map of the battlefield situation across Syria.

On the southern front, the government forces made some progress in their counter-offensive, recapturing several towns, and the front line showed a slow but steady advance.

On the eastern front, the once-fierce 1515 militia's offensive quickly weakened like a punctured balloon. Their supply lines fell into chaos after De Hook suffered heavy losses, and they were no longer able to continue pressing westward.

"Jiang Feng and Samir... well done..."

Song Heping silently recited this in his heart.

This surprise attack, launched from the Persian Plateau, struck directly at Dehok, destroyed supplies, killed all 1515 members, and then swiftly withdrew to the safe zone without lingering. The operation was clean and efficient, preserving its strength to the greatest extent possible.

However, his brow was furrowed, and his gaze was focused on northern Syria—Idlib province.

The battle map there is filled with scarlet arrows, those colors representing anti-government forces, mainly HTS and the Free Army, who are still constantly attacking the government forces' crumbling defenses.

Despite the government forces' desperate resistance, the situation is clearly deteriorating rapidly.

"The north... is in trouble..."

Song Heping muttered to himself.

Idlib is the northern gateway protecting Homs and even Damascus. If it falls completely, the entire western core area will be exposed to the enemy's advance.

bang——

Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open.

The cook burst in with a bang.

"Song! Something terrible has happened!"

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

　　
　
(End of this chapter)