I was a prince in the Middle East

Chapter 7 Cyber ​​Mega: My Oil-Oil Uncle is Courting Death

Just a few steps, but it felt like stepping into another dimension.

In the corner, on the golden roulette table, piles of uncut diamonds and dazzling gemstones lay stacked high.

Amidst the shouts and curses, the stakes were shares of oil fields and ports!
The sacred scriptures emanating from the pure gold loudspeaker became a psychedelic background sound, mixed with top-quality wines, Cuban cigars, and exorbitantly priced liquid agarwood, wildly provoking the rebellious nerves of the princes!

The light is not dim or ambiguous, but rather a "desert starry sky" carefully created by miniature lasers embedded in a priceless piece of crystal in the dome.

On the deep blue screen, the specks of "starlight" are the cold light refracted by perfectly cut diamonds.

Rotating laser pointers? That's too tacky. It doesn't suit the style and status of princes at all.

This is the holographic projection of "Paradise Garden".

A virtual paradise of virgins, designed by top artists and conforming to the descriptions in scriptures, appears and disappears in the smoke.

They were so perfect they seemed otherworldly, yet their eyes were as empty as dolls, contrasting sharply with the top Eastern European supermodels on the sofa in reality, dressed in almost transparent gauze, their key parts adorned with genuine pigeon blood rubies or emeralds.

The waitresses, almost transparent and adorned with rhinestones, carried crystal ice boats filled with gold leaf champagne.

But the most shocking thing wasn't them!
At the center of the circular sofa, those esteemed princes were like Buddha statues sinking into soft fleshy pillows!

Each member of the royal family had at least four or five young girls from various countries hanging around them, wrapped around them, or slumped at their feet!

Not a single thread was worn.

They are more like expensive living tapestries or docile pets, actively pressing their honey-colored limbs and jade-colored thighs against their owners' bodies, and using their gold-powdered fingers to massage, feed, and light cigars for their owners.

With just a glance, the princes would have beautiful women precisely place wine glasses, fruit, or even cigars to their lips.

The hand wearing a huge jade ring casually rests on the girl's neck, waist, or thigh, as if playing with the most comfortable piece of jade.

Taking advantage of them is unnecessary; they don't need to do anything at all.

Or rather, the only thing they need to do is press a button on the smart bidding device.

The items up for auction were obviously not anything of value.

Each successful bid was accompanied by a knowing, unspoken burst of laughter.

This is no party.
It's more like a doomsday sacrifice site!

People inside are just puppets.

Walid felt that even the most extravagant feasts paled in comparison.

He froze on the spot, his stomach churning violently.

The scene of rampant materialism before his eyes clashed violently with his understanding, which had been instilled by nine years of compulsory education and Confucianism!
I have no appetite, I just want to vomit.

A warm hand rested on his shoulder.

Walid turned around and met Muhammad's knowing gaze, which contained no mockery, but rather a hint of...understanding.
"Not used to it?"

Muhammad's voice cut through the loud music, drawing near to his ear.

"That's normal. You're not one of them."

He glanced meaningfully at the pleasure-seeking princes, then looked at Walid with a hint of mockery, calling him a "newbie."

"Don't you think this place looks more like a camel market? Let's go somewhere else."

Instead of going inside, Muhammad led Walid back to the relatively quiet edge of the outer hall.

He found a seat on the side and gestured to the servant to prepare some refreshments for Walid.

"Your Highness, coffee? Juice? Or..." the servant asked respectfully after serving the dates.

"Juice, thank you," Walid replied quickly, his voice a little dry.

Muhammad ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

In these private clubs of princes, doctrine does not exist.

The two sat down.

Muhammad tried his best to maintain the demeanor of a prince, exchanging casual pleasantries with several familiar princes in the outer hall.

But Walid, with his sharp eyes, noticed that Walid's gaze kept drifting unconsciously toward the inner hall, carrying a hint of longing and... anxiety.

Clearly, he was itching to try, but he had to restrain himself because he had Walid, a "rookie," with him.

Walid's heart skipped a beat.

He picked up his juice, took a sip, and suddenly raised his hand to rub his temples. His brows furrowed slightly, and a hint of fatigue and discomfort appeared on his face.

"Brother," he said in a low voice, with a hint of apology.
"I... feel a little dizzy. It's probably because the hangar's temperature fluctuated too much just now, and my old problem has flared up again."

"I'd like to find a quiet place to rest for a while. Can you have someone call me when the game is about to start?"

Muhammad immediately looked over with concern: "Did you faint again? Call a doctor?"

"No need, no need," Walid quickly waved his hand.

"You'll be fine after a rest. You know you're not fully recovered yet."

Muhammad recalled that the doctor had told Walid that he had just woken up from his coma and was experiencing dizziness and needed to rest.

He nodded and immediately beckoned over a servant who looked like a butler.

"Take Your Highness upstairs to the VIP lounge, the quietest one."

"Take good care of His Highness. Please come down half an hour before the competition begins."

“Yes, Your Highness.” The steward bowed and gestured to Walid, “Your Highness, please follow me.”

Walid nodded apologetically to Muhammad and the princes around him, then followed the steward out of the noisy outer hall and up the thickly carpeted spiral staircase.

VIP lounge.

The room was spacious, luxurious yet understated.

The soundproofing is excellent, completely blocking out the chaotic dancing downstairs.

The huge floor-to-ceiling windows offer a superb view, clearly showing the straight runway extending from the hangar below, blindingly white under the scorching sun.

At the starting line, the Bugatti Veyron, with its wild lines and all-black body, looked like a lurking beast.
Beside it, the silver-gray Mirage 2000-9 fighter jets resembled a steel falcon poised to pounce.

Walid dismissed the servants and walked alone to the French windows.

The view outside the window—a top-tier supercar going head-to-head with a fighter jet?

It's absurd and has a strong "Saudi" flavor.

He stared at the Bugatti and the Phantom, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

wrong!

In his previous life, he had seen an advertisement online of a Bugatti battling a fighter jet, which was truly awe-inspiring.

But that's in 2022!
Why was it that in his previous life, a graduate student studying the economies of Middle Eastern countries, he couldn't find a single public report or record of this earlier match in 2013?

As if it never existed?
A cold voice exploded deep in his mind.

Those were the words the old professor had spoken to him during his graduate school entrance exam, in a tone that spoke with profound insight:
"In that desert, the truth always lies between royal rumors and official denials—and that is the gray area of ​​the game of power."

Gray Area…Game of Thrones…Official Denial…

Walid's heart skipped a beat!
A chill ran up my spine.

He silently took out his tablet and opened the file package marked "[Confidential/For Your Highness's Reference Only]" again.

Briefing on the Prince Bandar liquidity crisis and the unusual mortgage agreement on Crescent Island

Summary:

……

It has been confirmed that Prince Bandar faces a $15 billion bridge financing shortfall due to the acquisition of U.S. shale oil company Crescent Energy (due on April 30).

Forced into a secret agreement with the UAE: using its artificial Red Sea island (codenamed "Crescent Island," valued at $8 million) as collateral in exchange for $15 billion in cash...

Key clause: The mortgage becomes effective upon the completion of the race by the Phantom 2000...

Record of Unauthorized Installation of Synthetic Aperture Radar and Low-Altitude Training on a Mirage 2000-9 (Serial Number T-057) in the United Arab Emirates

Summary:

……

The fighter jet provided by a crown prince of the UAE was fitted with an AN/APG-76 synthetic aperture radar at a secret base in Abu Dhabi 72 hours before the competition, achieving a ground mapping accuracy of 0.3 meters… Flight logs show that the aircraft flew at an ultra-low altitude of less than 100 meters along the eastern border of Saudi Arabia for three consecutive days, with its flight path precisely covering the Hasakah oil field cluster and border radar stations…

Saudi air defense forces rejected two warnings on the grounds of "pre-match equipment testing".

Confirmation of a technology leak in the "Biofuel Propellant" project (with composition analysis of the Bugatti rocket fuel tanks)

Summary:

……

Therefore, we are certain that the Saudi Space Agency's top-secret project "Falcon-III" high-energy fuel samples and miniaturized injection technology were transferred to the Jeddah laboratory controlled by Prince Bandar on April 5th...

Walid stared out the window at the silver-gray Phantom and the jet-black Bugatti, his eyes so cold they could freeze a person to death.

The light from the tablet screen illuminated his young yet suddenly profoundly deep-set face.

The distorted heat waves outside the window seemed to freeze as well.

This seemingly extravagant and thrill-seeking competition is actually rife with bloody hooks underneath!
If the $15 billion shortfall in the acquisition costs cannot be covered by April 30, all of his acquired shares in the U.S. shale oil company will fall into Goldman Sachs' hands, and his initial investment will be completely lost.

The acquisition of the US shale oil company itself runs counter to Saudi Arabia's fundamental national interests!

Therefore, he was destined to receive no assistance from within Saudi Arabia—neither from the royal funds nor from the sovereign wealth fund.

With no other options, Bandar had no choice but to turn to neighboring countries and seek assistance from the UAE.

Why in the form of a gambling game?
Because what the UAE wants is Saudi territory!
To put it more precisely, it is Crescent Island, located in the Red Sea, guarding the Suez Canal waterway, and possessing extremely high strategic and potential military value!
Although this is an artificial island under Bandar's name, it is still part of China's territory!

Such transactions involving territory are extremely sensitive within the Saudi royal family and would inevitably require the approval of the King or the core power structure; they are by no means decisions that a mere prince like Bandar could make privately.

The direct sale or transfer of such important royal lands, once exposed, would not only be an economic issue, but also a serious political scandal and a suspicion of "treason."

The absurd extravagance of publicly gambling with top-tier supercars versus fighter jets provided perfect cover for this sensitive transaction.

Because the Middle East is a place that is not only magical but also full of absurdity.

Here, the more absurd the things the princes do, the more easily they are accepted.

Moreover, time is running out for Bandar and the UAE.

Bandar's shale oil company shares were transferred to Goldman Sachs and the company went bankrupt after failing to pay $15 billion by April 30.

On May 1st, Saudi Arabia completed the upgrade of its S-400 system, meaning the UAE's reconnaissance opportunities against Saudi Arabia have been permanently lost!

A betting game is the only perfect solution that can satisfy both sides' needs before the April 30th deadline!

However, as Muhammad analyzed, how could the Bugatti Veyron, which was born for ground racing, lose within a distance of 3 kilometers?
Unless it can't finish the race!

Coincidentally, the Saudi Space Agency is secretly exporting a missile project to a third party, with a contract set to be signed on May 2.

The key verification data for missile fuel requires a result that will convince the other party.

Normal missile fuel tests must be reported to the International Atomic Energy Agency.

Moreover, this is the Middle East, home to 27 large US military bases and more than 10 US troops stationed here year-round!

The reason for the secret export is that this third party is not a force friendly to the US military.

But "civilian racing fuel" is different.

Since the Smiths' coffee cups can cost tens of thousands of dollars each, why is it wrong for the prince to play with a big rocket?
Unfortunately, the Saudi Space Agency is actually controlled by the Giruvid-Shamar alliance, represented by King Abdullah, which is also the biggest rival of the Sudri faction.

They were pleased to see Prince Bandar, the eldest son of the second generation of the Sudri faction, engaging in such undermining activities that undermine the Sudri faction.

then……

That Bugatti Veyron is not a "supercar" at all!
That thing was secretly modified at the rear, with miniaturized rocket boosters attached!
More importantly, it is filled with the Saudi Space Agency's top-secret "Falcon-III" high-energy fuel—the kind used in missiles!
This isn't a race car.
This is basically a miniature bomb that flies close to the ground and is guided by a human!

Prince Bandar plans to use this extremely unstable fuel to create an "accidental" and spectacular explosion during the match!

lose!
And they must lose so badly that their car is destroyed and they die!

Only a death can confirm the "accident," turning the mortgage into gambling debt and allowing the UAE to legally acquire the island.

The violent explosion could reduce the deadly missile fuel canister on the vehicle, along with the people inside, to molecular-level ash, completely destroying evidence of illegal transfer and testing.

It also provides perfect experimental data on 'explosive power and combustion characteristics' for the Saudi Space Agency's secret export projects.

The one who died in the car accident was his 17-year-old mentally challenged nephew, Faisal.

Young, easily fooled, and when something goes wrong, they can blame it on "the kid being ignorant and playing with modifications."

In the UAE, the task is to complete the match to ensure the mortgage agreement takes effect.

Meanwhile, during the low-altitude circumnavigation after the competition, the added synthetic aperture radar will be used to thoroughly scan the area around Riyadh, especially the oil fields and radar stations along the pre-set flight path!
The UAE needs this final window of opportunity to obtain crucial intelligence.

Ideally, the aircraft should land normally. If not, find an excuse such as mechanical failure and abandon the aircraft to save the black box containing radar scanning data!

and so……

This is hardly a speed showdown.

This is a filthy death hoax staged in broad daylight by a three-way conspiracy, using state secrets, national security, and the lives of teenagers as bargaining chips!

A distorted performance where both sides are either "seeking defeat" or "seeking a specific outcome"!

Bugatti craves a grand destruction, and the Phantom needs a successful peek.

The outcome was already decided; all that's left is for the fireworks to be lit!
Walid almost ground his back teeth to dust!
A chill ran from my tailbone to the top of my head, while my blood crackled and burned in my veins!

The gray areas of Game of Thrones?
Bandar is betting on this gray area!
What will happen if he wins the bet?

The handover of Crescent Island was packaged as a "race car betting payout".

The explanation for the Mirage fighter's spy flight is "pilot error/deviation from the track".

The Bugatti explosion was classified as an "accident caused by illegal modifications/use of illegal fuel".

All the dirty secrets were perfectly covered up by an "accidental" firework display and the subsequent royal gold steamroller incident (deleting records, buying witnesses, and coordinating statements)! This cover-up could last at least four years, until…

But what really sent chills down Walid's spine...

But that's the source of the information in my hand!
Original mortgage contract!

Radar installation order!

Fuel composition test report!
To be able to obtain this level of irrefutable, nuclear-level evidence—enough to definitively condemn Bandar and even the UAE—is truly remarkable.

His father, Prince Khalid, and the Talal intelligence network must have had a sniper scope on Bandar's forehead long ago!

Bandar's every move is likely under his father's surveillance, given their fierce rivalry in the Middle Eastern arms market.

This intelligence was not obtained by chance; it was clearly a carefully prepared last meal for the old rival by the father!
Like a seasoned cheetah, it lies in wait, silently lurking, waiting for the very last moment before its prey steps into its deadly trap.

The historical trajectory of my past life instantly flooded my mind.

In the bloody anti-corruption storm at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel in 2017, why was Prince Bandar ultimately purged so thoroughly, resulting in the destruction of his family?

Why were Talal's father and uncle able to escape the storm relatively unscathed, only paying a portion of the fine in exchange for "hereditary succession" and freedom to invest?

The answer lies on the tablet in his hand right now!
It's very simple. In this dirty carnival, which was ignited by Bandar, fueled by the UAE, and sabotaged by an insider at the space agency, the ultimate, biggest sucker and real loser is the Salman family!

The elder Salman was the then Crown Prince, while King Abdullah was recuperating from illness, so all matters of state were nominally decided by the elder Salman.

Crescent Island, which guards the Red Sea shipping lanes and has potential military value, was sold off to the UAE by Bandar like a gambling chip!

Meanwhile, the secrets of the country's core oil fields and radar stations in the heartland were completely raided by UAE fighter jets under the guise of a "competition"!

Salman bears undeniable responsibility for his negligence!
The Salman family had no choice but to swallow their anger and clean up Bandar's mess!
This is incredibly frustrating; a strongman like Muhammad certainly couldn't tolerate it.

But he has no evidence.

There is no evidence to definitively prove Bandar's innocence.

Walid suddenly realized that his adoptive father seemed to be more like a cunning old fox!

Holding onto irrefutable evidence against Bandar that could devastate the Saudi royal family and plunge the UAE into a diplomatic crisis, they remained silent for four years...

They were waiting for the moment when they needed to save their lives during the change of dynasty!
When the reckoning comes, all the old man needs to do is elegantly present this pre-prepared pledge of allegiance, and the Talal faction will instantly transform from fat sheep waiting to be slaughtered on Muhammad's chopping block into meritorious subjects handing over the dragon-slaying sword!
Moreover, Muhammad had no choice but to swallow his pride, accept the knife, stab Bandar to death, and then turn around and say "thank you" to his father!

Walid licked his dry lips, his knuckles turning slightly white from gripping the tablet so tightly.

He knew that at this moment... he, Walid bin Khalid, was standing at a crossroads.

……

(End of this chapter)