‘Zhang Jinchuan said he’d made preparations too. On M@skNet, he got to know a high-ranking figure under Awasi, a female officer named Fuya… the very woman standing before us now?’ Su Jie instantly pieced things together. He handed the gun back to the officer and nodded, saying it was a misunderstanding.

But just a moment ago, he had been wound tighter than a bowstring, staring down the barrels of soldiers’ rifles. What chilled him more was that the female officer actually fired at his feet—the sparks, the ricochet of the bullet, and the crack of the shot made him taste death all over again.

An ordinary person would have been scared witless, maybe even wet themselves. Even a seasoned fighter might have frozen, no different from a trembling barnyard hen.

Fortunately, Su Jie had toughened up through repeated trials. His psychological resilience had grown, letting him launch a decisive counterattack.

That alone showed how far his fighting skills had advanced.

After releasing Fuya, he couldn’t help but feel relieved. Good thing she was only testing me. Otherwise, I’d never have subdued her so easily. If she had aimed at my body instead of the ground, I’d already be dead.

She hadn’t been serious. If she had been, Su Jie knew he couldn’t have won.

He quickly reviewed the encounter like a student analyzing a botched exam problem, determined not to repeat the same mistake.

“You all, out,” Fuya ordered. Dressed in sand-colored camouflage fatigues, boots laced tight, cap pulled down over short hair, with knives strapped here and there—she looked every bit the lioness who had clawed her way through blood and fire.

At her command, the soldiers left the prefab shelter.

“Your skills are impressive.” Fuya holstered her gun and nodded at Su Jie. “But too impulsive. Just now, when you charged, I had at least three ways to dodge and shoot you down.”

“No choice—I had to take the gamble. If you’d been a real enemy, I couldn’t just stand there like a target,” Su Jie admitted. He knew his attack was riddled with flaws, far from ideal, but in that split second his brain had chosen survival over perfection. Still, the encounter exposed how he struggled to stay coolheaded under mortal danger—something only hardened through grueling training and combat.

He spoke in fluent English, as did Fuya.

Though he could manage the local dialect, he’d only picked up basic phrases—fine for small talk but useless for deeper conversations. Thankfully, both Gale and Fuya’s English was excellent, so communication wasn’t an issue.

If only they spoke Chinese, Su Jie thought. Since Gale wants to learn martial arts from me, maybe I should teach him Chinese too.

“Plenty of guts,” Fuya said, studying Su Jie. “If you ever went through special forces training, you’d make an outstanding soldier.”

From their brief clash, she admired his strength, speed, reflexes, and courage. The only flaw: his inability to stay absolutely calm under extreme peril. That would take years of specialized drills and firefights to hone.

“All right, Fuya,” Zhang Jinchuan waved. “Tell us why you came. We’ve chatted over video plenty, but this is our first face-to-face. You know I’ve advised you before. Now it’s your turn to help me.”

“Trump—no, Jinchuan…” Fuya corrected herself. “I know why you’re here. I also know what happened yesterday. Originally, the general had no intention of releasing the seized shipment. But yesterday opened his eyes—someone’s been openly using him. So he changed his mind. Still, letting that cargo go won’t be easy.”

“So what should we do?” Zhang Jinchuan asked.

“The seizure was actually Bata’s idea,” Fuya explained. “He’s the general’s number two, about equal in rank to me. He’s been with the general a long time, even saved his life on the battlefield, so he’s trusted. Lately, our finances have been tight. Bata proposed seizing the cargo—either ransom it for a fortune or sell it ourselves. I opposed it from the start. We’re not bandits. If we break the rules this once, no one will ever deal with us again.”

“You’ve mentioned Bata before,” Zhang Jinchuan said. “Last time I advised you to scheme against him so he’d lose favor before General Awasi. And it worked—your position went to you, not his man.”

“You Orientals really are masters of strategy,” Fuya admitted. “In truth, I found evidence Bata’s colluding with outsiders against the general. If you can help me expose him, the general will definitely release the cargo.”

“That’s tricky,” Zhang Manman interjected. “That’s your internal affair. We can’t interfere. We’re here strictly for business negotiations.”

Su Jie listened quietly.

“This ties back to the Feng family,” Zhang Jinchuan said. “Feng Hengyi is backed by a powerful and sinister force that’s reaching in here. Bata may already be their man, or at least bought off. He egged Gale into attacking us—one, to use us to kill the general’s heir, Gale; two, to get us slaughtered in retaliation. A neat two-birds-with-one-stone. Either way, even if we ignore Bata, he won’t ignore us.”

“So you have a plan?” Su Jie asked, unfamiliar with local politics and relying on Zhang Jinchuan’s lead.

“I do,” Zhang Jinchuan said. “It’s simple. Our end goal is getting the cargo back. Awasi’s stance is still uncertain. Fuya’s with us. Bata’s backed by hostile forces and clearly wants to usurp power. Su Jie, do you see?”

“I see.” Su Jie nodded. “To recover the cargo smoothly, we need to make the general realize Bata isn’t loyal, that his ideas are poison meant to drag him down. Seizing cargo to make money? That’s a terrible idea. If it escalates and sailors die, international outrage would crush the general. Even the provisional government would sanction him, and other leaders would pile on. The real question is—does the general already doubt Bata?”

“He’s begun to,” Fuya said. “Yesterday shook him awake. But he’s still wavering.”

“Su Jie, I’ve got an idea,” Zhang Jinchuan said. “But I want to hear yours first.”

“The options are clear. Fuya should keep pressing the general. Once doubt takes root, psychology says it only grows—everything Bata does will be suspect. By the way, besides the Gray Wolf, are there any other Feng family operatives here?” Su Jie asked.

“Yes. Another one, codename Hungry Wolf,” Fuya replied.

“Perfect…” Su Jie narrowed his eyes, digging through his memory of countless historical intrigues. China’s history was practically a manual of strategy—familiar plots repeated through the ages.

“Here’s the move,” Zhang Jinchuan cut in, voicing exactly what Su Jie had been thinking. “Fuya, arrest Hungry Wolf at once. Then leak word to Bata that under interrogation, he and Gray Wolf confessed to conspiring with Bata to assassinate Gale. Whether Hungry Wolf talks or not doesn’t matter—the message gets to Bata. He’ll panic. He might even strike early, rebel outright. At that point, whatever he does will be too late.”

“Hm?” Su Jie blinked, startled that Zhang Jinchuan had said what he himself had just reasoned out.

The plan combined classic tactics: sowing discord, luring out the snake, casting a wide net.

“And if Bata stays put?” Fuya asked.

“Still fine,” Zhang Jinchuan assured. “What you’re doing is for Gale’s safety. Even if you push boundaries, the general won’t blame you—he’ll trust you more, and doubt Bata even more.”

“The details will need careful planning,” Zhang Manman said. “But time is short. The sooner, the better.”

“Arrest him, spread rumors, fan the flames. Stage a bit of chaos if needed—have people shout that Bata’s rebelling, plotting Gale’s murder… sling all the mud you can. You know the saying: lies spread in an instant, truth limps behind. And Bata’s guilty conscience will make him blunder,” Zhang Jinchuan explained further. “And Fuya—you’ll need to assign troops to guard us. Cornered dogs bite.”

“No problem. The general wants to see you soon anyway. At his residence, you’ll be safe,” Fuya said, striding out, swift and decisive.

“Zhang Jinchuan, your mind really is sharp. No wonder Feng Haoyu’s repeated attacks failed. You’re a tough one,” Zhang Manman said admiringly.

“Actually, it was Su Jie who gave me the nudge,” Zhang Jinchuan replied. “If I’m not wrong, he’d already thought of this. He was just finding the right words. Isn’t that so, Su Jie?”

“My mind doesn’t turn as fast as yours,” Su Jie waved him off.

“No—it’s that you think schemes and trickery are beneath a righteous man. You hesitate to speak them. You prefer the straightforward path. Just like your martial arts—solid, steady, always advancing head-on. Never the crooked shortcut,” Zhang Jinchuan said.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep