Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

Multiple choice question?

Send a proposition!

Even though Mans was a greenhorn, he had already realized that this issue allowed him no room for evasion or compromise. The leader of the entire South was demanding a clear guarantee that he would stand by him in the course of the war. If he agreed, all his past ulterior motives could be put aside, and he would most likely walk out of this tent alive.

but……

This uncrowned king of the South was no fool; he couldn't accept just a verbal agreement. Once he agreed, he had to take concrete actions, which would be tantamount to taking sides.

Even if he'd chosen the right side, the future was still uncertain. He knew nothing about Southern politics and lacked understanding of Zhang Renfeng. Mans' principle was never to invest too much expectation in uncertain matters; he'd simply consider it a wasted effort, like working for the Southerners for nothing.

If that's all there is to it, then he's truly fortunate.

Morocco, a city in northern Pennsylvania, is geographically fixed. This means that, for Mans, any outcome of the war other than the complete defeat and disintegration of the northern forces would be unacceptable if he sided with the south.

Even a simple outcome like "a draw, with representatives from both the North and South signing an agreement and returning home" is unacceptable.

As soon as the war ends, as long as the Northern federal government and the financial alliance behind it are still operational, they will immediately begin a reckoning. At that time, the fact that I funded the Southern army will definitely be dug up and become irrefutable evidence of betrayal.

By then, not only will his political life end, but his physical life will likely also come to an end.

but……

……

No.

Mans could sense that he had been silent for far too long. This wasn't just a matter of time; everyone in the tent had noticed something was amiss. The boy who had been sharpening his axe had already looked up and was looking in his direction.

Very bad.

If you hesitate for even a little longer, it can be interpreted as a "rejection"!

……

"Uh... I... I mean..."

Zhang Renfeng glanced at him.

"never mind."

“…” Mans was somewhat taken aback, his pupils dilating slightly.

This man, who had just single-handedly broken through eleven fortresses and was comparable to a demon god, took a step back to help him out of the predicament, saying, "It's a bit too much to ask someone you've known for less than an hour to admit that they're our friend. If they're not, then they're not."

"As long as you don't become our enemy, that's fine."

"No problem! Sir, thank you so much for understanding my situation. I... I really don't know what to say."

Mans was impressed by his demeanor. This time, it was no longer feigned admiration, but genuine emotion that made his words less fluent and his vocabulary much simpler than before.

"Becoming friends" and "not becoming enemies" are two completely different levels of terms. To some extent, the latter means that Zhang Renfeng tacitly allowed Mans, and the entire city of Morocco, to find a middle ground between enemy and friend without having to make a statement.

“So, this is what will happen next.” Zhang Renfeng nodded and said in a deep voice, “We will leave soon, but some people will stay and set up temporary camps near your city.”

"They won't interfere too much with your city. Maybe some people will come to buy supplies, but everything will be normal. The camp will be very close to your city, but they will have their own missions to do and won't disturb your life."

"From this moment on, your city's train traffic will be temporarily requisitioned by our army. As for what is being transported or where it is being transported, you don't need to ask any questions. Just cooperate with us."

……

Mans was waiting for his next words.

Seeing his reaction, Zhang Renfeng stretched out his hand and snapped his fingers in front of him, "That's it, it's over."

"It's over?" Mans looked incredulous. "Just... that's all? Is that all you asked for?"

“Yes.” Zhang Renfeng nodded. “That’s right.”

If the occasion weren't so inappropriate, Mans might have actually slapped himself to see if he was dreaming. For a wartime army, Zhang Renfeng's demands were practically nonexistent, which astonished Mans.

It's important to understand that during the Civil War, some Union troops, after penetrating deep into Southern cities, engaged in widespread burning and looting. Logically, even though the North and South were different, and they were facing fellow countrymen, they showed absolutely no mercy back then.

However, according to Zhang Renfeng, the troops he left behind even paid them for purchasing supplies. In a true sense, what they requisitioned was the relatively developed railway system of Morocco.

Mans said confidently, "I assure you that, within our capabilities, the city of Morocco will provide your troops with the necessary assistance!"

……

As he stepped out of the military tent, Mans looked up at the blue sky again and let out a long breath. He touched his neck; his head was still up there. For a moment, he felt like he had just strolled around the gates of hell, only to find that Satan was surprisingly accommodating and even treated him to a hamburger and fries.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, it would be hard to imagine that such a person could have just been wreaking havoc on the battlefield.

Mans couldn't help but wonder if they really were rebels.

……

He saw from afar another tall, silver-haired woman leading another person into the military tent. A sense of relief, like someone who had survived a disaster, made him feel much lighter. So much so that even a distant glance, without clearly seeing the prisoner's face, gave him the feeling of standing on the dry bank watching a spectacle.

"I wonder how lucky that guy is, whether he'll be able to come out of the tent again..."

----

“Zhang, I found this guy in the ruins of Ford Fortress.” Silverfrost shoved the prisoner hard in the back, causing him to fall to the ground. “At first, the two soldiers next to him tried to cover for him. I used a sign on them to confuse their minds and finally got the truth out of them.”

"This guy's name is Bal Sishui, a captain, and the commander of this garrison."

"He is also the eldest son of the Sisswe family."

……

The atmosphere in the military tent immediately became tense and oppressive.

Baal sensed something was wrong and struggled to sit up, wiping the mud and blood from his face, one eye half-closed. He tried to stand, but his weakness and the double blow to his body and mind made it difficult for him to even maintain his balance. He could only sit on the ground, looking up at the other man.

"Father."

Zhang Lvjiu, who had stood as still as a rock, finally made a move. He raised the iron rod, his eyes were cold, and he said in a deep voice, "Let me kill him and avenge Uncle Mike."

Chapter 982: The Industrial Age

More than ten years ago, there would have been no need for anyone to remind him. The moment Zhang Renfeng caught him, he would have already shoved the gun barrel into his mouth and pulled the trigger.

As for the chain reaction this might trigger, or who might seek revenge... none of that was on his mind. He was going to unleash a massacre anyway; it was just a matter of timing. If anyone came seeking revenge, he'd wipe them all out in one fell swoop!

However, his fourteen years in power also made his personality more complex. Zhang Renfeng gradually realized that killing could indeed solve some problems, but it was by no means a panacea; there were many alternative methods. Even if he ultimately decided to kill, he had to do so at the right time and place, to kill the person who deserved it with the greatest efficiency.

To exert the greatest deterrent effect at the lowest cost.

At this moment, if the eldest son of the Sishui family were to be blown to the head with a single blow, while it would be satisfying, it would be a tremendous waste. Aside from venting his emotions, his head would have produced no other value.

Zhang Renfeng couldn't help but sigh, realizing that his way of thinking and Yi Ge's were becoming more and more similar.

He gently raised his hand, stopping Zhang Lujiu's intention, then grasped the long knife lying horizontally on the ground and gently lifted it. The bloodstains on the blade had long been wiped clean, but the thick, lingering smell of blood remained, swirling around the blade, making it an absolute weapon of death.

Slide across the blade.

The heavy black iron was pressed against Baal's chest. Zhang Renfeng loosened his grip slightly, letting it gently press against his heart.

"Oh...ah..."

Baal's expression twisted instantly. He held on for less than a few seconds before instinctively grabbing the blade, trying to move it. But as soon as he touched it, he realized he had underestimated the weapon's weight. It was no different from having a huge rock pressing on his chest; it was simply beyond human capability to move!

But... this yellow-skinned "being" in front of them held it so easily, as if it were a foam prop, with just one hand.

Are he and I really the same kind of human?

"no no……"

His breathing became increasingly labored, each gulp requiring immense effort. His face, which had turned pale, became a purplish-red, liver-like color, like a tiny ant trapped under a rock, still struggling desperately but ultimately unable to escape its fate of being crushed to death.

Last minute.

Zhang Renfeng moved the long sword away.

"Ugh... Ha! Ha! Ha... Cough cough..."

Barr's pupils dilated suddenly, and he saw stars. He greedily swallowed air, then coughed violently due to the damage to his organs. At the height of his coughing, he felt dizzy and saw stars, and finally dry heaved.

Mans, who left a step earlier, probably could never have imagined that the difference in treatment he received simply for entering the same place at the same time would be so vast. If he were to witness this scene, he would likely be astonished, horrified, and then feel immense fear for the attitude he had just received.

Inside the tent, no one expressed any dissent regarding this inhumane treatment.

Since Mike's death, the surname "Sisley" had become an unforgivable sin in Zhang Renfeng's eyes. Therefore, he did not hesitate to show the most vicious and cruel side of himself to the person in front of him.

“I hope you understand that I didn’t let go out of pity,” Zhang Renfeng said coldly. “Remember this feeling.”

"Next, I will ask you many questions. If your answers are even slightly unsatisfactory to me, if they make me feel that you may be fooling me, misleading me, or even playing me... you already know in advance what is going to happen."

"No...there's no need for that..."

Barr tried to force a wry smile, but the muscles in his face only twitched uncontrollably. "Ask whatever you want."

“Alright, about your father, Jik Sishui,” Zhang Renfeng said in a deep voice, “I want to know everything about him.”

……

Baal felt incredibly conflicted. He, as the commander, had been captured, and the intelligence obtained through torture by the enemy was completely unrelated to him. He felt a profound sense of defeat, or something else entirely; in any case, he was simply not a worthy opponent.

Thinking of this, he lowered his head somewhat dejectedly. "There's not much I can tell you about my father. But one thing is certain."

"If you're hoping to use me as a hostage to threaten him and achieve some strategic goals, you should abandon that idea now."

"What?" Zhang Renfeng tilted his head and said sarcastically, "Is your parent-child relationship not very healthy?"

"He is a typical old-school soldier, one of the people who won the war thirty years ago. These kinds of people all have one thing in common."

Baal swallowed and gasped for breath, barely managing to suppress the dizziness and palpitations before continuing, "To achieve their goals, they are willing to pay any price—casualty ratio, kill ratio…everything can be compromised for the sake of victory."

"In the era of cold weapons, a 10% casualty rate was considered very high for both sides in a war. Even in the era of line warfare, it generally wouldn't exceed 20%. But... in the last war, the casualty rate was around 32%, and in the most brutal meat grinder wars, it even reached 50%!"

"This is warfare in the industrial age. Strategy, will, and courage are all secondary. In the end, it's a contest... of which side can throw in more lives."

“Thirty years ago, the Northern Federation did it, so… they won.”

"It's easy to imagine what kind of generals such a battlefield would produce, isn't it?"

"As for my father, he was a typical Northern Federation general: efficiency-oriented, determined, results-oriented, and indifferent to cost."

“On the battlefield, there are no such things as father or son… To him, I was just a captain, one of his many subordinates, nothing special. My sacrifice was no different from anyone else’s. At least, it wouldn’t move him too much on the battlefield.”

……

"That's because while soldiers on the front lines are eating muddy, rotten canned food, these bastards who started the war can still be in luxurious halls, cutting steaks and drinking red wine by candlelight. For them, war is nothing more than a numbers game in the distance."

Zhang Renfeng said coldly, "Just wait and see."

"Once I drag them, one by one, from their warm, comfortable mansions, from their beds, and throw them into the flames of war..."

"Then we'll see if they can still be so open-minded."

Chapter 983: I Won't Let You Down

"What are you doing?"

Zhang Renfeng's voice suddenly came from behind, but Zhang Fulin, who prided himself on his skill in light-body techniques, didn't notice it at all, which startled him.

"father?"

For a moment, he had a fleeting thought of hiding the object, but he quickly abandoned the idea. With Zhang Renfeng's dynamic vision, he could dodge bullets, and within a few seconds, he must have seen what he was doing. So, he openly and generously presented the object that had been resting on his fingertips to Zhang Renfeng.

"This is……"

Zhang Renfeng took it and examined it, asking curiously, "A hidden weapon?"

Unlike ordinary concealed weapons, this one has sword-shaped blades on both sides, and its structure is axially symmetrical starting from the middle.

"Not really, it was a gift from my godfather." Zhang Fulin scratched his head a little embarrassedly. "I don't use it much, it's more like a souvenir."

“A long time ago, my godfather told me that martial artists must avoid being impetuous. Especially when fighting against someone, you must not get angry, because the angrier you get, the more anxious you become. When you get anxious, you will fight recklessly, which makes it easier for others to find your weaknesses.”

"He also told me that if I feel something makes me very angry, or I'm about to lose my temper, like this..."

He took the double-edged dagger from Zhang Renfeng, extending only his right index finger and placing it on the center of the blade. The dagger wobbled back and forth like a seesaw, but Zhang Fulin immediately focused intently, using the slightest movement of his index finger to adjust the center of the double-edged dagger. In the end, he managed to keep it balanced and prevent it from falling from his finger.

Zhang Renfeng saw this and was secretly alarmed.

Maintaining balance is not difficult, but to be like him, without even the slightest sway, in a perfectly balanced position, undoubtedly requires a very deep foundation of skill.

Judging from Zhang Fulin's demeanor, he was still quite relaxed. This matter posed no difficulty for him; it was merely a pastime.

“My godfather said that kung fu is not only about grand gestures, but also about subtle differences. This kind of subtle skill can quickly calm my mind.”

"I tried it myself several times, and it really worked. After maintaining this posture, all my attention was focused on how to keep the dagger from falling, so I naturally didn't think about any other things."