The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

"I swear on my life! I can do it!"

"Okay, relax."

Satisfying her evil taste in teasing the man, Ophelia raised a hand, asking the soldiers to lower their guns: "Go on."

"I don't want them to die like this!"

Tirion gasped, his eyes red as he stared at Ophelia's face, almost gritting his teeth as he tore out every word: "That's all I want! Madam! You promised! You promised to protect the civilians who surrendered to you, no matter if they were Croats, Serbs, or Muslims! You made that promise! And you're fulfilling it, aren't you?!"

"I beg you..."

His voice deepened, and the syllables that emerged from his cracked lips were choked with sobs. "When I came ashore, I talked to some soldiers, those former Krakat soldiers. They all said that you treat everyone fairly. I know, I know that maybe you really just don't care, but this is the best thing right now. It's equally good for everyone."

"You are right, General Tirion, I really do not care."

Ophelia waved her hand and casually nicknamed the man. "I want order and stability, but I hear you say... you're starting to worry about the safety of the people living in my territory? Let me remind you, there are quite a few Serbs and Muslims here. God knows why they wouldn't want to return to the lands of their own people."

"I was born here, ma'am."

Tirion stood up straight. At this point in the conversation, he calmed down, his two rows of teeth chattering up and down, as if this could add some power to his words: "I grew up here, started a family here, and I lost my beloved here, my child, my brother...

But back to when it all started, when I was a child, Visanico was not like this. Visanico at that time did not have so much hatred, so much death and chaos. It was very peaceful and ordinary. Although everyone had different beliefs and races, they were willing to accept each other.

I miss those days when we called ourselves Yugoslavs.”

He paused for several seconds, still staring at the face in front of him. "Now, I wake up every day and ask myself who I should hate and who I should shoot. Then I realize I can no longer hate Serbs or Muslims. I'm really tired. I just want to stop all this."

"We've said enough."

Madame Viper shook her head slightly and raised a hand to stop him from speaking.

"lady......"

"Shut up."

The one-armed man opened and closed his mouth several times, but no more words came out.

"I don't like to waste too much time hesitating on this kind of thing, not to mention it won't do me any harm, so okay, let me see if you really have this ability. But if you waste my time and energy, more people will die than just the ones on the list."

Ophelia stood up and walked over to Tirion, the cigarette butt in her mouth almost touching the tip of the man's nose: "Do you understand?"

"......I see."

"Then let's go, follow me to the intelligence room." Ophelia didn't want to waste any time: "Let's sort out the basic action plan today."

She is very skilled at this job.

In fact, with the various intelligence brought by Tirion, the traitor, Ophelia drew up an action plan within a few hours. She had other ideas about these Khrushchev soldiers.

She was truly short of manpower and could definitely use the strength of the Croat soldiers, provided the "one-armed general" before her could truly control them. Ophelia didn't particularly care about Tirion Lorraine's past; their goals were largely aligned, and she had reason to consider supporting him in the leadership of Visanico.

After all, I don't have that much energy to put into this. It's always good to have someone who is willing to mediate conflicts among different ethnic groups. What's more, the other party also has experience and can attract a small group of loyal supporters.

But if things go wrong...

Then we may have to use the old method.

If the Kras continue to act stubbornly regardless of the consequences, we will kill them until they are afraid.

The next morning, Ophelia sent Tirion to bed, and she pulled Sarovitch to perfect the newly-formed plan.

Because she was going deep into an area full of enemy soldiers, she planned to act alone this time. She didn't want the few elite teams she had to be lost on the other side of the river. After all, the difference in numbers was too great. Once a head-on conflict occurred, it would be difficult to hold out for too long without strong support.

Unfortunately, we don’t have any long-range firepower with a range of more than 5 kilometers.

Can't say no.

A few heavy mortars with not too much ammunition can barely reach within half a kilometer on the other side of the river; there is also a dilapidated Soviet-made D-30 122mm towed howitzer, which is the kind of thing that has been rotting in the warehouse. The range of this thing can be over 15 kilometers, but after checking the inventory and ammunition status, Ophelia and Savic felt that the probability of this thing exploding on the spot was higher.

What's more, the Viper Gang does not have artillerymen who can skillfully operate this weapon. All their skill points have been invested in mortars. Now they either have to look for any older artillerymen hiding in residential areas, or call Nikolai and Iben to ask if there are any relevant talents.

So Ophelia quickly threw the support plan behind her.

Even so, Pier 7 will be fully prepared.

The Kraku soldiers on the other side of the river had heavy artillery. While their numbers were limited, they were more than capable of launching a small-scale bombardment of the Viper Gang's territory. To prevent this, Ophelia ordered the evacuation of Pier 7 and the surrounding residential areas, and prepared for it.

As night falls, the action begins.

The dilapidated ferry slowly moved away from the river bank with a dull roar of its engine.

Tirion couldn't help but look at Ophelia opposite him again.

He really couldn't understand what this woman was thinking. She actually chose to go on the boat alone. Then he looked at her outfit: an AK automatic rifle, two Stechkin submachine pistols, several daggers, a backpack full of spare bullets, and not even a bulletproof vest. Was she really not afraid of encountering any emergencies?

I feel a little unsure...

"Why do you look even more nervous than I am?" Ophelia took out a dagger and twirled it between her fingers. "Relax, if I die at the hands of your compatriots, wouldn't that be a good thing for you?"

The man didn't respond, merely shaking his head, his expression heavy. Ophelia stopped bothering him, slamming her AK onto the floor and gazing out at the tranquil Sava River. There was a reason Tirion had been able to sneak up on her. Several outposts on the other side of the river were completely manned by his men, eliminating any risk at all.

About five minutes later, the ferry docked safely.

"Don't look, Lieutenant Davor!" Tirion's expression changed when he stood in front of his soldiers. His voice was steady and full of energy: "Get the car ready, we will... wait, let's go to the radio station first and turn it on!"

"Yes." The middle-aged soldier named Davor saluted, glancing at Ophelia before turning and heading back to the center of the outpost. Madame Viper ignored the distant gazes of the soldiers, lighting a cigarette and waiting for Tirion to contact his subordinates via radio.

"Okay, let's get in the car."

Tirion put down the phone, leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh.

"Then hurry up and get up." Ophelia pinched the cigarette butt between her fingers. "You've already decided to do it. Haven't you hesitated enough?"

"You're right." Tirion stood up with his knees propped up. He had already driven out all the soldiers around the radio station. At this moment, no one except Ophelia could see his face was about to wrinkle. "I just... I can't believe I really did this."

"If there is a first time, there will be a second time."

Ophelia shrugged. "Although I really don't want it to be me the second time. Ha, don't look at me like that. I've seen it too many times. If you think I'm joking, that's fine too. I hope this will always be just a joke."

Tirion looked at her, wanting to say something, but he finally sighed, straightened his collar, and strode out of the room. Lieutenant Davor had already prepared the vehicles, and a column of three jeeps immediately started up, leaving the sentry post one after another.

“Kamenica, right?”

Tirion was the driver himself, and there was no one else in the back seat. Ophelia simply spread out a paper map. "Croatian means... stone? A town full of stones? Why does it sound like a place where a lot of unidentified bodies are buried?"

"You guessed right, it's almost like that." Tirion stared at the front. The road conditions were not ideal. The jeep was shaking and the two headlights on the front of the car were flickering up and down. A car-sick athlete would cry at the sight of it.

A dark shadow passed by the roadside.

Mrs. Viper turned her head and saw a destroyed armored vehicle.

A black shadow appeared in front of us again.

The car lights flashed by, revealing half of the helicopter's tail, which was stuck diagonally in the ground, looking like a desolate tombstone. Although it was short, Ophelia could still see the cloth strip tied to the edge of the tail.

"This land..."

Tirion's dry, tired voice came from the driver's seat: "This is the scene wherever you go. Some fools say the war is over, but it's not. They can't see here, they can't see that the soldiers here are still fighting, especially the young ones. Many of them should have a long life, but they are dying in this endless, meaningless conflict of hatred."

"Ah...shit."

Ophelia touched her forehead helplessly: "If you want me to kill fewer people later, you can just tell me directly, without using this trick on me."

"I know you understand."

Tirion turned his head to look at her, then moved back: "I don't know why, but I just feel that way. Maybe it's because I haven't talked about these things with others for too long. I just feel that you understand every word I say."

"So what? General Tirion, I'm not the one who should understand."

There was the sound of a lighter in the car, and then no more sound.