Civilization: Beyond Two Worlds

"Kirov, translator."

At this moment, Maozi on the other end of the phone seemed to hear the icy and biting wind in Siberia.

About two hours have passed since the last phone call, and through the content of the translation, Kirov probably guessed what Kant was going to do.

Dimitri, who has more relevant experience, said that to kidnap a company commander, and to kidnap a company commander in a state of war, requires careful planning, sufficient firepower and a competent team, and it is best to do so in Night operations will have a greater chance of success.

After all, reality is not a game, there is only one chance, and it is impossible to read the file and start over.

"If I lead someone to do it, I will first formulate an action policy. It is best to tie a person from the vicinity of the military camp to come to torture and obtain comprehensive and thorough information, so as to avoid omissions or concealment of previous information."

Sure enough, Kant called and asked for an interpreter.

Kirov, who answered the phone, and the bodyguard looked at each other.

The retired special soldier of the signal flag showed a proud look and raised his eyebrows. Just as he expected, Kant went to arrest another person to torture the situation. This is called the elites see the same thing.

Kirov praised: "Brother, you are so fast, an hour earlier than Dimitri's prediction, how is it, is everything going well?"

"Well, it went well."

Kant on the phone obviously had no interest in greeting: "Let the translator be in place."

"Okay, he's always been there."

Mary Seiler, who had a pleasant cooperation with Kant before, has put on headphones and spoke in bright Mandarin, this time even with a bit of Beijing accent: "Mr. Kang, it's nice to see you again."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"…"

"…"

Maricelle raised an eyebrow.

After previous cooperation, he already has a general understanding of the Chinese client's behavior. Moreover, as a professional translator, he has seen all kinds of storms.

So he even joked this time: "Sir, from my professional point of view, he is screaming."

"Then you tell him, if he really likes yelling, I'll make a teppanyaki with his Hedio, cut it off and stuff it in his mouth when it's cooked."

The translator thought for a while, and roared vulgar words in a Texas accent with a strong red neck.

Even considering that the other party is a black man who has never seen the world, he may not understand the word teppanyaki, which is "tep***yaki". After all, it is something that originated in Japan, and the other party may not know it.

So he thoughtfully translated the threatening language into "Put your Jebao on an iron bar with cassava and mango, then put it on a tin gasoline drum to make a BBQ, then cut it off and feed it to you, including the two eggs. ".

It may be that Mariselle's red neck is too masculine, and the Biagan people are obviously intimidated, and the terrified screams are stuck in the throat, leaving only the extremely panicked inhalation.

"Ask him," Kant said. "Where are the captured Chinese now?"

There was English with a strong African flavor on the phone, and the black man spoke in horror, his voice even a little shrill: "I don't know, sir, I don't know anything, I just obey orders, I didn't hurt any Chinese, Please don't hurt me..."

Mariceller shrugged. "He said, 'Keep hitting me,' sir."

"...I've never heard of such a request when I've grown up, okay."

Immediately afterwards, there was a violent sound of wind in the sound, as if the black man was thrown from a height, and then, the sound of mechanical operation was clanging, and something buzzed, like a chainsaw, like an electric drill, and like The mixer, the sound of clack and rumbling sounded alternately, very strange.

Dimitri blinked suspiciously: "What torture tool is this?"

A black man's miserable wailing could be heard faintly on the phone: "No no no please! Keep it away from me! God! No no no no no! Don't look at me! Don't eat me! I say! I say !"

Mari was about to speak when suddenly there was a shout from the sound.

Immediately, the fire of the large-caliber anti-material rifle roared, and there was the strange sound of mechanical operation, and then there was a sour tearing sound, like flesh and blood being sawed open.

It was even mixed with the frightened and desperate scream of the black man.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"Oh my God, don't do this, don't throw it away! Get it out of the way! Oh mother, vomit vomit vomit..."

For some reason, a chill rose in the hearts of the few white people listening to all this.

After a while, Kant's voice sounded again: "Don't worry, our new friend doesn't like the football I gave him, maybe it's not round enough."

Kirov straightened up and said tentatively, "Brother, they found you? Is everything okay? Is there anything I can do to help? If you need help or advice..."

Kant said lightly: "It's okay, these are the last few, and they dare to jump out and fight back."

The arms dealer and his friend looked at each other - was this discovered by the enemy and then pursued?

- No, no!

A look of disbelief suddenly appeared on Kirov's face.

He finally found out what was wrong: "Who, who is this person?"

"..." Kant's tone was a little impatient, "Of course it's Osas, who else could it be?"

The retired officer of the signal flag widened his eyes, and the cigar between Kirov's fingers fell on the table, and his tone became a little stuttered: "The last few you just said..."

"Is this the time to talk about this?"

"Dang, of course not! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please continue!"

He gestured to Mariselle to continue translating, while he and his bodyguard Dimit looked at each other, gesturing frantically and lip-mouthing—what the **** was going on?

"OK, friend, it sounds like this is your subordinate, colleague or basic friend or something?"

"Oh oh oh no! Please! Get him off! Don't let him face me!"

Through the efforts of the interpreter, Kant on the phone communicated smoothly with his African friends.

"Then listen up, answer my questions quickly, completely, and honestly. If you hide or lie, I will let you have a passionate kiss of life and death with your girlfriend. You'd better think of something more disgusting. Be honest before you play, now, tell me! China! China! People! Where! Where!

"I don't know...I really don't know! We handed them over to those people! We're just following orders! I swear! I'm telling the truth!"

"Who are those people?"

"…"

Othus was obviously silent, or hesitant.

Just listen to Kant sternly: "Electricity!"

The sound of the current rolling up the magnetic arc Zira sounded, followed by the miserable and violent whimper and muffled howl of Osas. His mouth was gagged. This punishment lasted for half a minute, Kirov silently Listening, a drop of cold sweat slipped down the arms tycoon's cheek.

"... mercenaries! We handed them over to mercenaries! Those people are mercenaries!"

Othus hurriedly said in a weak and fearful voice.

"What are the mercenaries doing to arrest the Chinese!"

"I don't know, I really don't know! I just obey orders! The king's orders! The king ordered me to lead the army with that mercenary into Comora! They are responsible for the victory, we are responsible for the fruit! In principle I will obey Their order! This is the king's order!"

When Kirov heard this, he suddenly said: "...Brother, ask him the name of that mercenary army."

Mariselle translated it immediately and accurately.

"I...I really don't know! The person I contacted, let me call him Mr. Bourjou! I saw him when I was escorting the Chinese over there, but he was wearing a heavy heavy-duty body armor and a helmet. , I can't see what he looks like at all! I didn't lie to you!"

Kirov picked up the phone and asked the question directly in English. The military rank of the other party, the race of the members, the type of weapons and equipment... The frightened Major Osas knew everything, but the answers were messy.

Kirov made a gesture, Dimitri immediately got up and went out, and the arms agreed to calm down: "I will try my best to help you inquire, brother, but this mercenary is obviously very cautious, not wearing a military rank, and its weapons and equipment are all countries. So I can only say I did my best."

"Thanks, Kirov."

"It is my pleasure to serve you."

After speaking, Kirov reacted - why do I say this?

He scratched his head and said again: "At least I understand a little bit now. No wonder this battle is so wicked and Biagang is advancing so fast - it turns out that they hired a substitute to fight, but this is even more strange."

Kant asked: "What's so strange?"

"The dollars spent on hiring such a strong and well-armed mercenary can directly drain Biagun's annual financial income. The Biagun king only needs to take out half of the money to get the money from the domestic market. The tribe mobilized 10,000 young men and equipped them with rifles, which not only saves money, but also is more efficient. It is very unreasonable to hire such foreign aid troops."

"And Comora is even poorer, and the payoff is far less than the payoff."

Kant said coldly: "But it happened after all."

"So there must be a reason for this, for example, other than money, other agreements, conspiracies, or other things we don't know about..." Kirov whispered, "Secret."

Kant was silent for a moment, then asked, "Are these things related to the kidnapping of the Chinese?"

"I don't know, but there should be some connection, brother, there is no armed force in this world that dares to attack the citizens of a permanent member state without any conflict of interest. They must have some kind of appeal, specifically The demands depend on what they want.”

Kirov has already guessed the purpose of Kant's trip to Africa by seven or eight points: "You don't have to worry too much, brother, no matter what their demands, they will not dare to hurt the Chinese."

"yes?"

Kant's voice was a little distorted on the phone, but the chill could still be heard.

"I never put my hopes on a pack of hyenas, warmongers, killing machines - interpreter!"

Mary Seiler shuddered: "Yes, sir!"

He was about to translate the sentence "I never put my hope in..." when Kant said: "Ask him! Where did he **** the Chinese! Point it out on the map! And the group fighting for Biagun Mark where the mercenaries have already hit!"

"yes! yes!"

Osas was sobbing, his breathing was short, and he could even be heard sniffing: "Here! Yaeraba! A town west of Moani, the capital of Komora! The news I heard is that they have attacked Entering the capital of Comora, the final battle with the army of Comora is underway!"

"Very well, that's it, I know."

Kant's voice was calm: "Now, look at me, look at my face, when you first saw me, you were stunned for a moment, you have seen someone who looks more like me before, right? ? But a little thinner than me, wearing glasses, a little gray hair, wearing scruffy work clothes, and carrying a notebook everywhere—have you ever seen such a person? Among those Chinese people."

"Yes, it is…"

"Is it also given to those mercenaries by you?"

"Yes... Right... I'm sorry, I, I don't know..."

"Did he get hurt?"

"No! Not really! I respect them! I didn't do anything to them! I didn't even starve them! These are true!"

"…Oh."

Then, after a while, there was a sound of liquid pouring over the phone.

"No no no no no! God, what are you doing! Please forgive me! I'm not lying! I'm just obeying orders! I don't want to die! Please don't do this! Please! Please..."

"I-know, I-know."

This time it was Kant himself speaking.

English, the pronunciation is very awkward and irregular to the ears of a few foreigners.

"But-it-can't-sa-ve-you."

The sound of the flames burning, the scorching sound, and the extremely painful roars and wailing, even made the sound a little distorted.

Kirov and the interpreter closed their eyes at the same time.

"Thank you, Kirov, thank you, Mari, before the news of the destruction of this military camp reaches there, I want to find the mercenary team first, so let's stop talking..."

Kant's voice was terribly calm, especially with the wailing and screaming as the background, the unwavering tone sounded even more terrifying.

"…Wait a moment!"

Kirov said subconsciously.

"Um?"

Kant is waiting for the following.

But Kirov didn't know what to say, he just organized the words: "I...I just think, brother, are you a little...I mean, I can understand your mood, but..."

The next moment, Kant spoke, his voice a hundred times colder than before.

"...Sorry, Kirov, I'm in a hurry, let's talk back."

The phone was hung up immediately.

Hearing the busy voice, the arms dealer was stunned for a moment, and then slowly exhaled: "Fuck... It was normal when he came to Serbia, and his PTSD symptoms were enough to be admitted to the Arkham Asylum..."

He glanced at Maricelle, and the interpreter was watching him.

Lao Maozi shook his head: "After I go back, I have to educate my little brat well. I also hope that after a certain business failure of mine, a murderous son will come to save me."

But here, he showed hesitation: "...Do I really hope?"

The arms dealer was full of emotion, but what he didn't know was that the murderous guy he was talking about who was enough to stay in the Arkham Asylum had left this world.

In the territory of Goethe, in the Xiaye District, in the streams and valleys, the banners and flags in the distance are like forests, strong shields and heavy armor, the mage swept the array, and the heavy rhino cavalry roared in a low voice, and the new line of defense was ready.

"It's best to destroy this army, otherwise they will insert directly into the hinterland of Xia Ye from the stream valley. This is the slave army of the city-state of Tok with the strong support of the elves, and there is no military discipline at all."

Sword Saint Waterfall looked at Kant: "Is there a way? If you are not sure, or it will take a long time..."

"Have."

Kant stared intently from afar, his eyes were cold, looking at the array of iron armored formations, heavy defenses, and a mage sweeping formation. The brilliance of magic danced in the sky, waiting for him to slam into this killing formation.

idiot.

The reloaded Horus let out a low roar.

A frame of M2HB heavy machine guns glowed icy in the sun.

"Muzzle up, projectile and fire!"

This is the German initiative at the Battle of the Somme, beyond the shooting method.

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PS1: I didn't sleep well yesterday, so today's update, good night.