Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Reversal

Yu Hongxiu took the mouse and the button-shaped signal transmitter from Chen Cao, hesitated for a moment, and then turned back, her eyes shadowed with a faint sadness of parting. “Brother Chen, once we separate now, who knows when we’ll meet again. Why don’t we leave together?” she said softly.

Chen Cao finished playing the last few notes on his instrument, looked at Yu Hongxiu in mild surprise, then smiled gently. Walking over, he tapped her lightly on the forehead. “Silly girl, I thought you’d grown up, but you’re still just a child. Go on, leave now while you’re not exposed.”

“Brother Chen!” Yu Hongxiu suddenly threw her arms around him, tears slipping down her cheeks. “Take care of yourself!” With that, she gathered up her robe and weapon and walked quickly toward the corridor.

Though it lasted only a few seconds, Chen Cao was taken off guard as Yu Hongxiu, clutching her AK rifle, hurried away and quickly vanished into the darkness. Watching her graceful silhouette, Chen Cao could still feel her warmth. “Take care, Hongxiu,” he murmured.

He gazed into the darkness. After a brief rest, Chen Diwen would surely follow Mosika here. With Mosika’s temperament, since she’d implanted a tracking transmitter in his body, there must be a crucial mission ahead. Chen Diwen’s elite unit from Dacheng was naturally a prize these people would fight to win.

Thinking of the transmitter embedded in his back, Chen Cao’s expression grew complicated. It seemed Duan Tianya was right: on the battlefield, everyone is an enemy; there are no true friends. The only hope is to survive.

Yu Hongxiu trudged through the dark corridor, clutching her voluminous robe. Once she was swallowed by the shadows, her eyes lost their innocence, becoming cold and bleak. The mouse in her hand was crushed with a sudden squeeze, bones snapping audibly, before she flung it to the ground.

After a few steps, she stopped and spoke in a respectful yet mechanical voice. “He’s already entered the trap. I’ll go out now and lead Kokora and the rest of the 0611 elite inside, so we can catch them all at once.”

A slow voice drifted out from the darkness. “Good. It seems that man is still ruled by his emotions. That’s the weakness of Dacheng’s entire army. On the battlefield, there’s no room for sentiment.”

Yu Hongxiu said nothing, her eyes blank and wooden.

The voice continued from the shadows. “Go now. Meet up with Kokora and the remaining 0611 fighters. Remember, if possible, capture them alive.”

“Yes,” Yu Hongxiu replied, void of any emotion.

Chen Cao was rapidly weighing his options. The fallen soldier in the room would soon be discovered, and if he wanted to find Intelligence Officers Huang Tianyu and Zhou Hongye, the best way was to reach the command center and use the computers to search. But the command center was heavily guarded—how could he get in?

At that moment, as he hesitated, two guards approached. His heart leapt, and he tensed, ready to strike if anything went wrong.

“Mr. Matsumoto!” The guards addressed him in awkward Gabonese. “Chief Xibastin requests your presence.”

“Have I been exposed?” Chen Cao wondered silently. But now was not the time to abandon his Matsumoto persona. If he did, the Vulture would be compromised, and the entire rescue effort would fail.

It seemed the only effective move was to seize Xibastin. Bitterly, Chen Cao thought, though this was a desperate gamble, Xibastin’s life surely held more value than an unknown soldier’s like his own. Besides, the importance of Zhou Hongye and Huang Tianyu to the Holy War Organization far outweighed that of Xibastin. Since there was no way out, why not stake everything?

With this decision, he donned a gentle smile, nodded to the gun-wielding guards, and made a polite gesture for them to lead the way.

Expressionless, the two Holy War guards flanked him, one on each side, escorting him to the control room as if he were a prisoner.

Inside the control room, the usual bustle was gone, replaced only by the crackling sound of typing.

When Chen Cao entered, Xibastin was staring intently at a virtual screen, his face grave.

“Report, Mr. Matsumoto has arrived!” One guard stepped forward, placing his right hand over his left chest in a respectful salute.

Xibastin turned, his face breaking into a smile. Seeing Chen Cao, he laughed heartily, strode over, clapped him on the shoulder, and said in fluent Gabonese, “Mr. Matsumoto, how was it? As they say in Dacheng, a moment of joy is worth a thousand gold!”

Chen Cao maintained a satisfied smile, but inwardly he was alarmed. “Not good. Are they going to check the room? If so, I’ll be exposed immediately!” His hands tensed, ready at any moment to subdue the terrorist leader standing so close.

But Xibastin kept laughing and patting his shoulder. “My apologies, Mr. Matsumoto. I know you’re still unsatisfied, but there’s something you’ll find even more interesting than your exploits in bed. Once you see this, you’ll have even more of an appetite. Don’t worry, you’ll soon be reunited with that beautiful woman!”

Hearing this, Chen Cao relaxed slightly. As long as Xibastin kept him here, no one would check the room for now. This bought him precious time. Whatever Xibastin wanted to show him, the longer he could delay, the better his chances. He subtly tapped his fingers, trying to send a message to Mosika, instructing her to prepare for extraction and asking whether, with her devices and Xiao Li’s tracking technology, they might pinpoint Zhou Hongye and Huang Tianyu’s locations.

By now, Xibastin had turned to the virtual screen, his eyes growing colder, a bloodthirsty gleam shining within.

Elsewhere, in the vast desert beneath the night sky, two pilots were flying MY7 reconnaissance planes on a battlefield mission.

“Rossel, how many targets did you hit today?” one pilot asked over the radio.

“Seven,” Rossel replied smugly. “With the infrared scanner, I saw them shattered by my heavy gun. The combat recorder’s got it all. Once we return, that’s another bonus coming my way. What about you, Rom?”

“Fourteen,” Rom answered. “One air cannon shot. I counted.”

Rossel burst out laughing. “You bastard, you really went all out!”

The two bantered idly as they flew, when suddenly, they spotted several massive bonfires in an oasis below. Streams of torches converged from all directions, quickly merging into a sea of flames that lit up the night sky.

“Rom, what’s going on? I don’t see any weapons among them through my binoculars,” Rossel said into the radio.

“Looks like civilians. Maybe they’re holding some kind of event. Still, we’re in sensitive times—better report to Allied Command,” Rom replied. The two planes banked in unison and headed toward the command base.

Within minutes, five Tiger-class attack helicopters thundered in, their rotors slicing the air as they hovered over the crowd. The Tiger was Mainz’s top advanced combat helicopter, equipped with precision instruments and able to carry three fully outfitted combat squads. With the helicopters flying so low, over a hundred Justice Alliance soldiers must have been aboard.

“Command, this is Tiger One. We’re over the gathering point and observe no lethal weapons among the crowd, whose numbers appear to exceed a thousand!” the pilot reported.

“This is Second Mountain Division Command. If there’s nothing unusual, withdraw. Wolfpack 45 and 47 infantry battalions have already assembled on either flank and are ready to disperse the crowd,” came the reply.

The Tiger One pilot exhaled in relief. Unlike jet fighters, even armed helicopters, for all their advanced weaponry, were far less durable or fast. They couldn’t just soar above danger.

As the pilot turned the stick to withdraw, leaving the dispersal to the infantry, a blinding flare streaked up from the crowd with a shrill whistle—a rocket-propelled grenade.

“Look out, RPG!” the copilot shouted.

It was too late. With a series of bangs and crunches, the pilot and the troops inside felt the helicopter spin wildly, throwing everyone into disarray.

The crowd’s cheers grew deafening. In an instant, a barrage of RPGs and gunfire erupted toward the sky and ground, the din of bullets and explosions drowning the shouts.

“Mayday, mayday! Tiger One going down—we’re crash-landing! Request immediate support!” the pilot broadcast.

The lead Tiger One, its tail hit, struggled to make an emergency landing amid the throng.

“Mayday! Wolfpack 47 is surrounded—45 is surrounded—we’re under attack! Request support! Repeat, request support!” crackled the desperate radio calls.

Fire Lord 57—Fire Lord Full Free Reading—Chapter 57: Counterattack Complete!