I was a prince in the Middle East

Chapter 14 The Mad Prince's Ultimate Gamble
At this moment, Prince Bandar knew very well that this royal will was definitely not meant to support that little bastard Walid!
This is the highest level of Saudi Arabia's power issuing a silent yet thunderous ultimatum to Bandar bin Sultan in this earth-shattering "gamble"!

Prince Bandar felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head, and his limbs and bones instantly became icy cold!
His vision blurred, and he could barely stand. He only managed to stay upright thanks to his last bit of willpower.

An overwhelming sense of fear, like an icy tide, instantly engulfed him completely.

It’s over! It's all over!

Clearly, his plot... has been exposed!

That mortgage agreement, that radar installation order, that damn fuel report…

It's estimated that they've all been placed before the throne!

Otherwise, it would have been impossible to trigger such a terrifying, uniform, top-down "betting" frenzy!
This is using an overwhelming torrent of money and irresistible political pressure to force him to admit defeat!

Force him to end this deadly gamble!

However, amidst this boundless fear and despair, a twisted, insane thought, like a drowning person grasping at a last straw, suddenly seized Bandar's heart!
and many more!

wrong!

They're just betting!

They're just using this absurd method to exert pressure!

Instead of sending the guards in to arrest people, or immediately stopping the match!

why?
Bandar's chaotic thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning.

UAE!
Yes!

Those crown princes or princes from various emirates of the UAE were still present!

Would those old foxes in the royal family dare to overturn the table in public?
They wouldn't dare even if they had ten leopards' gall!
The Mirage fighter jets are still parked on the runway!

Embedded with the national emblem of the UAE, it's a land that can fly!
Even if those old guard in the royal family had irrefutable evidence, would they dare to board the plane and conduct a search?

Pooh!
That would be tantamount to tearing off the dignity of the UAE in public and smearing it with excrement, which is equivalent to declaring war!
Not all small animals dare to bare their teeth like a rabbit.

But what if we just stop the game and arrest the person?
The UAE can immediately smear the Saudi royal family's reputation as a sore loser and make headlines around the world!
With the banner of "traditional betting agreements are sacred and inviolable," Saudi Arabia has become a laughing stock on the international stage for its treachery!

What about the royal family's reputation?!

In this desert of the Middle East, losing face can mean dying in the street!
Because here, 'face' is not just about personal dignity!
It is also a public asset of the entire family, tribe, and even religious community.

It is often compared to a "priceless robe" in common parlance: once it is stained, even a fortune of gold cannot clean it.

Another example is the "mosque you carry with you": wherever you go, you must keep it clean and not allow it to be trampled on.

not to mention……

Bandar licked his dry lips, and a gambler's bloodshot appeared in his eyes.

The old king gasped for breath on his sickbed, the scales of power swaying like camel bells in a sandstorm!
At a time like this, who would dare to bring shame upon the kingdom?
Salman the first to behead him was to sacrifice him as a flag offering!

and so--

They only dare to throw money around, but not to draw their swords!

These cowards adorned with gold and jade!
They could only force me to end the game and admit my mistake by using this kind of "betting"!
If I stop the match, it will be tantamount to admitting to all the accusations!
What awaits me is a lifelong, dark and hopeless imprisonment!

Do not!
no way!

Moreover... in Bandar's chaotic thoughts, a venomous glint of light suddenly bit into his nerves!

and many more!

Ahmed, that old dog!

Ahmed's steward, Vahish, had a deadpan face that just sat there, like a piece of dried camel dung in the desert!

But what about Prince Faisal?
Faisal, the grandson whom the old man had always kept by his side, treating him like a precious treasure, was someone he was afraid of dropping or melting.
Why wasn't he recalled or forced to withdraw from the competition?!

If Ahmed had truly known that Bugatti would be blown to pieces, he would never have allowed Faisal to remain at that deadly gambling table!
Because that old fox would rather swallow a knife himself than let his grandson utter a single spark!
But now... Vakhsh just stands there, like a gilded and jade-encased mourning staff!
what!
Bandar's mind suddenly cleared, and a surge of joy welled up inside him—

they do not know!
Or perhaps these gold-clad fools only caught a whiff of half the rotten flesh!

The wolf cubs from the nine border tribes arrived with grim faces, which only meant one thing: the Phantom 2000's modifications had been exposed!

But Bugatti...

They didn't find the mine!

A frenzied glint suddenly erupted in Prince Bandar's eyes, like that of a trapped beast!

He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms, and the intense pain miraculously brought a sliver of clarity to his chaotic mind.

He still has a chance!
Continue the game!

Pretend you know nothing!
If the Bugatti explodes as planned, it will be an unfortunate accident!

And Heaven and Earth bear witness!

The early modifications to the Bugatti were entirely done by Faisal!
He secretly carried out a second modification later on, and the missile fuel would only be injected after the speed exceeded 400 kilometers per hour.

If an explosion occurs, all those hidden valves, sensors, and thrusters will be reduced to ashes, making them impossible to detect.

There are no problems on my end.

He could easily shift all the blame onto the "cunning and despicable" Emiratis who "modified the fighter jets without authorization"!

Now, this is what he needs to gamble on!
It's likely that the Saudi royal family, for the sake of so-called "decency," wouldn't dare to overturn the table in front of the UAE envoys!

They'll have to swallow their bitterness and accept their fate later, at most secretly settling scores with him!

He had plenty of time to go into exile!
You don't even need to!
They openly and legitimately claim to be persecuted internationally!

Just like Prince Talal who once shouted "Prince of Freedom" and formed the "Deny Front"!
"When a deal is too dirty to be seen in the light of day, disguise it as a ridiculous carnival!"

This dark rule, which has been followed in the Middle East power structure for thousands of years, has become Bandar's only lifeline at this moment!
Thinking of this, a kind of almost pathological, reckless courage suddenly surged up.

Bandar took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the churning fear in his chest and the metallic taste in his throat.

In that instant, the hunched back straightened up again, as if it had never wavered.

The tense muscles on his face relaxed, and a seemingly calm smile, even with a hint of the owner's enthusiasm, naturally appeared.

He walked steadily to the center of the hall, his gaze calmly sweeping over the faces that were either cold, mocking, or horrified.

Those gazes seemed to be nothing more than ordinary stares.

Prince Bandar's enthusiastic smile suddenly widened, almost reaching his ears, appearing particularly exaggerated and forceful.

He suddenly spread his arms wide, as if to embrace the entire room, his gaze precisely fixed on several prominent butlers standing in the corner, representing different factions of real power:
"Hassan! My old friend!"

His voice was loud and filled with surprise, "It's so nice to see you!"
"Your master, His Highness Prince Nayef, are you in good health? Please, please have a seat!"

(This should actually be Muhammad ibn Nayef; if it's Prince Muhammad... then everything falls apart.)
Before the other party could react, his gaze and exaggerated arm movements quickly shifted to the next target.

"Ali!"

"Vahish!"

"Suleiman!"

He greeted each butler with the same enthusiasm he would during roll call, waving his arms exaggeratedly as if to dispel the chill in the air.

"Ah! Seeing all of you here, my heart is so warmed!"
Please give my regards to your Highness! Don't stand there, please take a seat and make yourselves at home!

However, all he received in response was a cold silence.

The butlers were expressionless, stiff as wax figures, their eyes filled with undisguised scrutiny.

They ignored the sudden, enthusiastic greetings and the insincere invitation to hug, as if he were just putting on a show for thin air.

Prince Bandar's outstretched arms hung awkwardly in mid-air, his exaggerated smile undiminished in the face of this blatant coldness and silent rejection.

He shrugged nonchalantly, casually lowering his arms as if the awkwardness had never happened. He rubbed his hands together, his gaze sweeping over the butlers, a low, strange laugh escaping his throat.
"Hehehehe... That's great, that's really great!"

His voice carried an almost shameless nonchalance, "Looks like my dear uncles and brothers know I'm short on cash, so they specially sent you to 'bring me money,' right? Huh? Hehehehe..."

Having said that, Prince Bandar calmly raised his hands, his voice clear and resonant, carrying just the right amount of excitement.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Your Highnesses and friends!"
Today was truly...wonderful and full of surprises!
It seems everyone's enthusiasm for this small-scale 'speed game' far exceeds my expectations! This is truly exhilarating!

His gaze swept naturally over the breathtakingly large betting records on the electronic screen without lingering, his smile undiminished.

"but,"

He changed the subject, his voice moderate, carrying a gentle yet experienced tone of advice.

"A game is just a game. The important thing is to participate and experience the thrill of the game!"

When it comes to betting, the key is to act within your means; rationality and composure are the keys to long-term success.

You are all seasoned veterans, and I'm sure you understand. Please don't let a momentary...excitement spoil this enjoyment!

The onlookers, who witnessed all of this, were thoroughly enjoying themselves.

They had to admit that Prince Bandar possessed the self-cultivation of an actor.

but……

Do you think we're blind or stupid?

In the hall, the faces of the butlers were as black as the bottom of a pot.

They were all top princes, crown princes, or even the king's confidants, and their expressions were practically screaming "the sky has fallen!"
Looking at the astronomical betting figures on that electronic screen, only a fool would believe it's just a 'spur-of-the-moment' stunt!
Something really big has happened; it's aimed at Bandar!
But he acted like nothing had happened, trying to brush it off with a casual "the game is all about participation"?
In the corner, two young princes clinked their glasses, and one of them chuckled in a low voice.

"See? That's the prince's acting skills. As long as he's not embarrassed, it's everyone else who's embarrassed."

Look, Hassan's beard is shaking with anger, it's hilarious!

"Shh! Keep your voice down,"

Another winked and said, "Isn't this more exciting than watching horse racing? The prince has such a thick skin, no wonder he's a prince!"
Wow, even camel hides in the desert aren't this thick.

They stated:

I've seen shameless people, but I've never seen anyone this shameless.

I've seen thick-skinned people, but never this thick-skinned.

However, this was not important to most of the princes and nobles present; they were just spectators.

There are nearly 10,000 people in Saudi Arabia with the title of prince, but real power is held by only a few dozen people in the core.

Everyone else was just a bystander receiving royal allowances.

What do those power struggles among the dozens of key figures in front of the throne have to do with them?
For them, the real problem is that they thrive on chaos.

Anyway, as long as there's juicy gossip and drama to watch, that's good enough.

The sky may fall, but that's a good time to have fun. The more lively the stage, the more interesting the conversation will be tomorrow!

Bandar was well aware of this as well.

Right now, 90% of the people in the club are just parasites masquerading as princes.

But it was precisely this false clamor and crowd of parasites that became Bandar's best camouflage at this moment.

The more people there are, the stronger the atmosphere of this absurd revelry becomes, and the less the core power structure of Saudi Arabia dares to overturn the table in public!

His gaze finally settled on the stairwell.

The rain fell on Muhammad, who stood like a drawn sword, and on Walid, who was half a step behind him and seemed harmless.

It also landed on Turki, whose face was ashen, and on the grim faces of Suved and the other nine tribal representatives.

"The match is starting in half an hour,"

Bandar's voice echoed in the eerily quiet hall.
"Let's put our attention back on the wine and laughter! Music! Keep the music playing! Dance! Don't stop! When the time comes, we'll let you all know to go to the track to watch the game—for now, please enjoy yourselves to the fullest!"

He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping across Muhammad's ashen face like a poisoned dagger, his voice suddenly rising:

"Otherwise... that would be disrespecting the Sudri faction!"

A suppressed commotion arose in the hall.

Several young princes couldn't help but roll their eyes.

This old fox actually has the nerve to call himself a representative of the Sudri faction?
Now everyone knows that the Seven Heroes of Sudari are coming to settle scores with him.

The Utaibi tribe representative in the corner spat, but was stopped by the stern look of the elder beside him.

Hassan, the butler in the front row, had a twitching mouth, and the gold-edged Quran in his hand was almost deformed from being squeezed.

His master, Prince Nayef the Younger, hated nothing more than anyone tarnishing Sudley's name, but at this moment...

The old butler's sinister gaze swept over the figures clad in white Emirati robes, before he simply closed his scripture book heavily.

The UAE coat of arms on the wings of the Mirage fighter jets outside the window was so bright in the sunlight it hurt my eyes.

They were disgusted.

But they couldn't do anything about it, because at this moment... they really couldn't overturn the table; the royal family's face had to be preserved.

Seeing this, Prince Bandar chuckled and, instead of taking the opportunity to leave, went straight into the inner hall and grabbed an Eastern European model.

"Look at these Slavic pearls! They're much sweeter than your hypocritical pretenses!"

Prince Bandar pounced on him like a thirsty desert jackal, but between breaths he shouted loudly into the hall.

He deliberately smashed the wine glass against the gilded pillar, and the sound of shattering glass and the girl's painful scream instantly ignited the atmosphere in the inner hall.

The servants, who had been standing frozen, seemed to receive a signal and mechanically restarted the champagne tower, while smiles returned to the faces of the Eastern European models.

"This is so true!"

Bandar wiped the sweat from his beard and casually tossed the cigar, stained with lipstick, to a passing waiter.
"Bring me all my Persian saffron! I'm making a thousand cups of 'Heaven's Kiss' today!"

The onlookers quickly grasped the unspoken rules of this power game.

Since even the big shots don't dare to overturn the table, they have no need to become martyrs.

Soon, the clinking of crystal glasses drowned out the whispers, and some people even boldly put their arms around the still-shaken model.

A decadent atmosphere once again filled the inner hall.

Walid had to admit that Bandar was a real talent!
Talking to himself, making noise and then indulging in pleasure—this whole charade, with the screams of Slavic pearls and the sweetness of saffron cocktails, managed to warm up the hall that had been frozen into an icebox!

That makes sense, since 90% of the people in the hall are just watching the show.

What do royal dignity, national interests, and power struggles have to do with those who receive allowances?
Enjoy the moment and appreciate those Eastern European models – that's the right thing to do!
"Who cares who wins or loses,"

A portly prince slumped comfortably on the sofa, his arm around his female companion. "The allowance won't be any less. This kind of spectacle is a once-in-a-decade occurrence!"

A man next to him raised his glass in agreement: "Exactly! Cheers to this great show! I've already thought of the headline for tomorrow's Riyadh Daily."

A knowing chuckle rippled through the crowd.

Muhammad and the others looked ashen-faced.

However, Walid almost burst out laughing.

Good, it also makes Muhammad understand that these parasites must be the price of reform.

Instead of Muhammad having to be shot and lie in bed for months before he understood, in his timeline, Muhammad didn't.

……

(End of this chapter)