Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 204 Cleansing (Part 1)

Shuangzhi, Jeddah Port.

This port city, located on the westernmost side of the Mecca region, may seem unremarkable on the surface, but it actually controls nearly 40% of the country's oil export transportation pipelines. Furthermore, since the Mecca region is directly governed by the church, it is difficult for either conservatives or progressives to interfere in its affairs.

As the new moon rose, the Halefan family's seaside estate was already brightly lit. Despite the national mourning period, the twenty-hectare estate remained unaffected, with laughter and clinking glasses echoing throughout the mansion.

Persian carpets covered the marble floor, and silk curtains from India fluttered in the night breeze. The air was filled with the rich aroma of rose perfume and roasted whole lamb.

Cheers to our friendship!

The obese Abdul Khalfan, the head of the Khalfan family, raised a gold cup inlaid with jewels, his greasy fingers adorned with three enormous jade rings. "May God bless our business to prosper!"

Inside the banquet hall, more than thirty guests raised their glasses. Among them were Jassim family patriarch Feldo, Kenyan oil tycoon Olu, and several African tribal chiefs, all of whom were staring intently at the dancers swaying their hips on the dance floor.

"If you ask me, our new king is still quite mindful of the tradition of 'succession by brother'."

Feludo slowly began, “However, the fact that four princes were absent or voluntarily relinquished their right to the throne during the election is something that anyone with eyes can see is suspicious. Muhammad really has connections everywhere.”

“His son is even more remarkable,” another local family head exclaimed. “With such military achievements, he’ll probably be canonized when he returns! This world will belong to the Sudri family sooner or later.”

"Who cares!" Abdul laughed, patting his round belly. "What do those big shots in Riyadh fighting for power have to do with us? Jeddah is far from the reach of the central government; it's the church's domain! Our business will continue as usual!"

The man sitting in the main seat remained silent, dressed elegantly. Those around him subconsciously kept a distance from him, but this was not out of estrangement, but rather out of respect.

"Second Uncle, these people are really interesting."

A boy beside the man chuckled softly, "They're as insignificant as ants, yet they dare to act recklessly just because they have some protection. Not only do they desperately amass wealth, but they even dare to criticize national affairs. That's a capital offense."

The man's lips curled up slightly: "I told you not to come along, but since you've listened to these blasphemous words, your head is in danger too."

The young man chuckled and said, "At worst, I'll go to my aunt and plead for her. Every king has married a woman from the Sheikh family. My aunt has been married to His Majesty for twenty years. By seniority, Amir is my cousin!"

The man shook his head with a slight headache, picked up his coffee, and took a small sip.

The man shook his head helplessly. In Shuangzhi, there is a saying: The Sheikh family does not vie for the throne, but the blood of the Sheikh family will forever flow on the throne.

This is not an empty claim, but can be traced back to a treaty signed by Najd more than two hundred years ago.

At that time, the Arabian Peninsula was still in a state of political and religious division. The Saudi family was just a tribe in the Najd region, scattered with dozens or hundreds of other similar families in various corners of the peninsula.

At this time, a scholar named "Wahab" appeared in the Sheikh family.

Wahhab advocated a return to pure Islamic doctrine (i.e., Wahhabism) and reached a historic agreement with the then-royal leader, bin Saud—

Bin Saud promised to protect and promote Wahhab's religious teachings with force and political power, in return for which Wahhab and his family would provide religious legitimacy for the Saud family's rule.

Simply put, the Saudi family is responsible for expanding territory, managing government affairs, and commanding the military;
The Sheikh family is responsible for protecting the enforcement of Islamic law and the status of religious authority.

And so, a theocratic regime came into being.

Whenever the Saudi family prepares to launch a war, the Sheikh family issues a "fatwa," defining the Saudi family's military expansion as "jihad" and the opponents as "infidels," thus providing a sacred reason for the war.

This alliance has continued to this day. For more than two hundred years, the two families have frequently intermarried, and the blood ties have bound their fates even more closely together.

"If the Zionians hadn't taken over the Suez Canal, we could have made even more money!"

Abdul sighed, stuffed a piece of mutton into his mouth and chewed it: "On this point, we agree with the Masr. The Zionians must be exterminated!"

In the past, the Halofan family stole crude oil from the country's oil pipelines and resold it to Western industrialized countries.

After the outbreak of war, the canal was closed, and the stockpiled oil could only be sold to Africa at low prices.

However, for them, this was essentially a risk-free business, and the profits were still considerable.

Chief Jassim suddenly said, "I heard that Muhammad is investigating oil export records. We'd better be careful."

"An audit?" Abdul glanced disdainfully at the mansion behind him, a smug smile spreading across his face. "The Deputy Minister of Energy in charge of the audit is currently on vacation at my villa."

Everyone smiled knowingly.

The dancers sang with even greater fervor, the musicians played lively tunes, and servants moved about carrying golden platters laden with roasted camel hump and caviar. Everything seemed so peaceful and extravagant.

Abdul looked at the oil merchant Olu: "By the way, the price for shipments to Tanzania next month needs to be increased. After all, the situation is special now, and the risks are greater."

Oulu gave a wry smile: "Sir, we had an agreement beforehand, so why raise the price?"

"Don't you know that His Highness Amir won a victory in Damascus?"

Abdul said righteously, "The frontline supplies are definitely tight right now, and the Church is also planning to build a sculpture for His Highness Amir. All of this requires money! As an Arab, aren't you willing to contribute some money to support the war effort?"

“Yes, of course I would,” Oulu replied in broken Arabic.

Actually, he was just saying that. Even though the price has risen a lot, he can still make a profit, especially by reselling this batch of black oil to Europe, where he makes a fortune!
Just then, a commotion broke out outside the mansion.

Abdul frowned and gestured for the steward to go and check.

But just then, the banquet hall doors were suddenly kicked open!

Dozens of fully armed soldiers surged in like a tide. The private soldiers of the Halifan family instinctively reached for their waists, but the well-trained soldiers were faster.

With a few precise shots, the private soldiers who tried to resist fell to the ground, their blood quickly spreading on the Persian carpet.

The dancer's screams stopped abruptly, and the guests who had been talking loudly just moments before turned ashen-faced, with several timid ones collapsing to the ground.

Abdul Khalfan broke out in a cold sweat, but he looked at the man sitting in the main seat, somewhat at a loss.

"Second Uncle?" The young man also put away his nonchalant expression and looked at the man beside him.

The Sheikh prince rose with a sullen face, straightened his robes, and arrogantly walked toward the young officer who had led the intruder.

In an instant, more than a dozen rifles were pointed at him.

The prince's voice carried the authority of someone accustomed to a high position: "Which department are you from? Who is your superior?"

“Al-Khali Muhiwadi, belonging to the 1st Mechanized Guards Infantry Battalion of the Shuangzhi Army,” the major replied.

Not a member of the royal family? A commoner? The First Mechanized Guards Infantry Battalion? The prince frowned, finding the designation strangely familiar.

At that moment, the relaxed expression on the young man behind him suddenly froze—he saw the blue flag fluttering in the wind on the armored vehicle outside the door, and the smile on his face instantly froze.

"Listen, young man, there must be some misunderstanding here."

The prince tried to use his status to smooth things over: "This is Jeddah, I am a prince of the Sheikh family, no one has the authority here."

"Sheikh?" Al-Hali's interest was immediately piqued. "You said you're a prince of the Sheikh family?"

"of course."

"name?"

The man gave his full name.

The young man was about to stop him, but it was too late.

Al-Harry pulled out a list and compared it, seemingly spotting the man's name, and gestured, "Take him down."

Two soldiers immediately stepped forward and grabbed the prince from both sides.

"You are suspected of embezzling national oil revenues, smuggling, and bribing public officials," Al-Khali unfolded the document and read aloud, "and are hereby arrested in accordance with the King's decree."

“We should also add ‘openly violating the prohibition during the national mourning period,’” Ulima added coldly from the side.

"Absurd!" The prince's face flushed red. "I want to see your superior! I want to see the Great Mufti! I want to..." *Bang!*

Gunshots echoed through the hall, the prince's voice abruptly stopped, a bloody hole in his forehead was clearly visible, and his body crashed to the ground.

More than half of the guests fainted on the spot. Abdul Khalfan's legs went weak and he knelt down, his crotch instantly becoming wet.

The nut in the young man's hand fell with a "thud" and rolled into the pool of blood on the carpet.

"No...don't kill me!" Abdul cried, tears streaming down his face, crawling toward Al-Khali. "I'm willing to give up all my possessions! Please..."

Al-Khali checked the list expressionlessly: "Abdul Khalfan?"

"Yes, yes, it's me!" Abdul kowtowed repeatedly.

"boom!"

Another shot rang out, and Abdul's pleas for mercy were forever silenced in his throat.

"All those who resist will be killed without exception! The rest will be detained and await trial!" Al-Harry's voice echoed throughout the banquet hall.

Looking at the trembling so-called "nobles" in the hall, Al-Harry showed no extra emotion.

Once upon a time, he was just a commoner in this country, but the tempering of war and his exposure to Amir made him see the true face of these so-called nobles.

He met hypocritical politicians in Al-Iraq; a weak king in Hashim; and treacherous traitors who groveled before the Zionites in Damascus. He also encountered reactionary forces within the country that attempted to incite division. Most of these so-called nobles were nothing more than selfish scoundrels or vampires parasitizing the lifeblood of the nation.

His gaze finally settled on the young man.

The young man swallowed hard and forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

He could sense that the officer in front of him was younger than him, yet he exuded an aura that chilled him to the bone.

"Are you also from the Sheikh family?" Al-Khali scrutinized him.

The young man first shook his head, then nodded vigorously: "No... uh, I'm from the Sheikh family, that was my second uncle. My aunt is His Majesty's wife, and Prince Amir is my cousin!"

“Name.” Al-Harry remained unmoved.

The young man nervously gave his name.

After confirming through a comparison of the list that the young man was not on it, Al-Hari frowned: "His Highness would never tolerate such despicable behavior. How dare you call yourself His Highness's brother?"

The young man took a deep breath, his eyes reddening: "I have long admired my cousin and have always longed to learn from him, but I have never had the opportunity."

As he spoke, he squeezed out a few tears at just the right moment, his face filled with "deep regret" and "longing".

“Opportunity?” Al-Harry nodded thoughtfully. “Don’t worry, you’ll have your ‘opportunity’ soon.”

The young man looked somewhat bewildered.

Before the young man could react, Al-Harry waved his hand and said, "Take them all!"

The soldiers immediately stepped forward and escorted the limp guests out one by one. The young man was also taken into a car by two soldiers. Before leaving, he looked back at his second uncle's corpse and felt a sense of relief.

At least I'm still alive.

Al-Khalil crossed out the name of the "Khalfan" family from the list and said in a deep voice:
"The next one."

What the young man was unaware of was that the same trial was being staged simultaneously across all thirteen provinces of Shuangzhi.

From countless mansions adorned with family crests trampled by military boots, in Jeddah, Riyadh, Dammam, Medina, and Taif, nobles were roused from their gilded slumber to face the cold muzzles of guns and arrest warrants stamped with the king's seal.

Confiscating family property, suppressing resistance, and carrying out executions.
As soon as the new king took office, he chose to eliminate these malignant tumors using the most violent and decisive means.

The one wielding the sword was his son, who had just returned from the battlefield in Damascus.

The downfall of the Dual-Willed Aristocracy began that night.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Riyadh, the new royal palace.

In recent days, the gates of the royal palace have been crowded with nobles and ministers seeking an audience. In just one week, hundreds of families have been raided and hundreds of thousands of people have been imprisoned. The entire upper class of the kingdom is living in fear.

Some people destroyed the account books overnight, some feigned illness and stayed home, and some even tried to go abroad to seek asylum.

But none of this worked. The King of Zhili's special operations forces had blocked customs and any channels for leaving the country, and even Riyadh Airport was temporarily closed.

The palace gates were tightly shut, and all the royal nobles could only wait in despair for the army to arrive.

The conservatives are now in a difficult position, only now remembering the good things about the previous King Shams—but it's too late.

During this period, some princes attempted to rebel, but all they faced was brutal suppression by the army.

While all the nobles lived in constant fear, finally, the three white-haired royal elders received the news that the king had granted them an audience.

Everyone was overjoyed.

"The fate of the kingdom rests on our shoulders."

Prince Abdul said in a low voice, the octogenarian's fingers trembling slightly on the tip of his cane: "When we meet His Majesty later, we must first explain the stakes. For nearly a hundred years, it is these families that have supported the operation of the kingdom. Now that all these pillars have been broken, won't the royal family collapse as well?"

Prince Ibrahim nodded, his expression serious: "There is also a moral obligation. Our founding ancestors made a blood oath with the tribes to share wealth and glory with you all. If we do this now, wouldn't the whole Arab world laugh at our royal family for breaking our promise?"

Feeling the heavy responsibility on their shoulders, the three elders, leaning on their canes, arrived at the entrance of the council chamber.

King Muhammad was taking a nap when he saw them enter and waved them over, saying, "My three uncles, please find a place to sit."

"His Majesty!"

Prince Abdul stood tall and said, "Why not consult with the royal family first on such a momentous decision? These families have been intertwined with the royal family for centuries; even if they have made mistakes, they should be given a chance to repent!"

Seeing that Muhammad did not answer, Prince Ibrahim stepped forward: "Your Majesty, please stop the purge immediately! Since ancient times, wise rulers have never cut off their own right-hand men."

Prince Khalid, his face flushed with excitement, exclaimed, "Using the army to settle domestic affairs has always been a harbinger of national ruin! This is clearly the act of a tyrant!"

Muhammad slowly opened his eyes and said, "Now that things have come to this, uncles, how do you think we should end this?"

Seeing that the king's attitude was softening, Prince Abdul decisively said, "The most urgent task is to stop the purge, make His Highness Amir relinquish his military power and apologize to the nobles. This will not only demonstrate His Majesty's benevolence, but also achieve the goal of purging."

"Oh?" Muhammad seemed to have become somewhat interested.

Prince Abdul pressed his advantage: "Since ancient times, governing a country has been nothing more than the word 'balance.' It is justifiable to purge the conservatives who have made a big mistake. You have not only achieved your goal of using the army to carry out the purge, but you have also made an example of them to establish your authority. At this time, you can then attribute the mistake to His Highness the Prince. This way, you can preserve the dignity of the royal family, make the remaining nobles grateful, and eliminate the hidden danger of the concentration of military power. Isn't this killing three birds with one stone?"

Muhammad pondered for a moment and asked, "But we are still at war with Zion, and the kingdom needs him to lead the army to victory."

Prince Khalid's tone carried a warning: "The fact that His Highness Amir could wield a butcher's knife against the nobles of the entire nation today shows that he has no respect for bloodlines. Doesn't His Majesty worry that he has nurtured a tiger that will eventually turn on him?"

“What my three uncles say makes sense.”

Muhammad suddenly turned to the inner room, "You heard everything?"

Immediately afterwards, the curtains were drawn back.

Under the icy gazes of the three elders, they spotted the young man who had been sitting inside.

Lu Lin's gaze swept over the old man's pale face, a cold smile curving his lips:

"Old dog."

(End of this chapter)