170: Chapter 170 Welcome Home

The darkness of night was the best cover.

Led by two merkava main battle tanks, a torrent of steel consisting of six namer armored vehicles and over a dozen humvees advanced silently through the dunes and desert for nearly an hour.

The convoy stopped behind a towering sand ridge.

The rear hatch of a namer armored vehicle opened, and Ethan was the first to jump down. He rushed up to the top of the sand ridge in a few steps and raised his binoculars.

Thirty kilometers away, the night sky was lit up as bright as day by a brilliant array of lights.

Those weren't the searchlights of a military base, but a bustling belt of light filled with the essence of life, gathered from countless household lights and streetlamps.

That was the New Hope settlement.

A "New Hope" belonging to the invaders, built upon the ruins of their homeland.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Ethan lowered his binoculars, his voice devoid of emotion.

Behind him, Hamas warriors filed out of the armored vehicles. They silently walked up the dunes, greedily gazing at the myriad of lights shining on the land that should have belonged to them.

No one spoke, but the air was thick with a hatred so heavy it almost solidified.

For many of them, it was the first time they had seen this legendary settlement so clearly, from a level perspective, rather than through news photos or blurry videos.

There were wide roads, neat villas, and swimming pools and green belts that were more precious than gold in the Gaza region.

Meanwhile, they were forced to huddle like rats in crowded, filthy, and blockaded underground bunkers and refugee camps for generations.

By what right?

"Ethan." Leader Abu Hassan's voice came through the communicator, carrying a hint of suppressed excitement, "The soldiers' emotions... are just about ready."

Ethan didn't look back; he simply pulled a pistol from his waist and racked the slide.

The crisp metallic clack was exceptionally piercing in the deathly silent night wind.

He handed the binoculars to a young soldier nearby who was carrying a camera.

"Aim it well. From now on, don't miss a single detail."

"Yes!"

Ethan took a deep breath and, into the communicator, shouted the word that had appeared in his dreams countless times with all his might.

"Fire!"

Boom—!

Almost the instant the words left Ethan's mouth, from behind the sand ridge, that merkava main battle tank let out a deafening roar!

A 120mm high-explosive shell trailed a long tail of fire as it cut through the night sky like a meteor of vengeance, accurately slamming into the most central and luxurious three-story villa in the New Hope settlement!

A massive fireball soared into the sky, dyeing half the night sky orange-red.

The violent explosion was still clearly audible kilometers away, sounding like the overture to a revenge thirty years in the making.

"Charge!"

Ethan held his pistol high and was the first to rush down the dune.

"Allahu Akbar!"

"Reclaim Al-Aqsa Village!"

"Kill all the invaders!"

Decades of pent-up hatred erupted completely at this moment. Hundreds of Hamas warriors let out earth-shaking roars, sweeping toward the brightly lit New Hope settlement like a flood breaking through a dam.

Inside the settlement, it plummeted from heaven to hell in an instant.

The shockwave of the explosion shattered the glass of every house within a radius of hundreds of meters. Piercing alarms and the terrified screams of people mixed together.

Many Israelis, still in their pajamas, climbed out of bed in a daze, not knowing what had happened.

Immediately following, even more intense gunfire and explosions resounded throughout the settlement.

Their proud security forces were as fragile as paper in the face of two merkava main battle tanks and six namer heavy armored vehicles.

The steel beasts that once brought endless nightmares to the people of Palestine now turned their muzzles, pouring their fury onto their former masters.

The settlement residents, who were usually arrogant and viewed the Palestinians as insects, now had faces written with terror and incomprehension.

Their arrogance vanished without a trace in the face of absolute firepower.

A Hamas warrior named Jamal kicked open the door of a villa. Holding an M4A1 rifle, he searched cautiously.

The people in the house had long since fled, leaving a half-eaten dinner on the table.

Jamal ignored the exquisite food and lavish decorations; his gaze was firmly drawn to an old wooden door in the corner of the yard.

That door stood there alone, used by the homeowner as a decoration with an "exotic" flair.

The door panels were covered in weathered cracks and several faint bullet holes, with a faded olive tree painted on it in pigment.

Jamal's body began to tremble uncontrollably.

He dropped his rifle and stumbled over, stroking the door over and over again with his rough palms.

Thirty years ago, he was still a child. His father had been hit by a stray bullet in front of this very door and collapsed in his arms.

Later, the bulldozers came.

The home was gone, the village was gone, and only this door remained, picked up by some "compassionate" Israeli and kept as a trophy and decoration.

Jamal knelt before the door, pressing his head deeply against the cold wood, his shoulders heaving violently, yet he could make no sound.

Not far away, a camera faithfully recorded this scene.

Ethan did not participate in the front-line combat.

He stood on the roof of a namer armored vehicle, directing this grand drama of revenge.

"Record it! Record everything!"

"That veteran, yes, the one with only one arm—have him go in front of the ruins of the bombed villa! Give him a close-up!"

"Find the original site of our village! Let the whole world see how they built these kennels on our land!"

Commands were rapidly passed down.

Half an hour later, while the battle was still ongoing, a quickly edited video was uploaded to major social media platforms globally.

The title of the video was simple, just two words—

《Homecoming》.

The video began with the shocking moment the merkava tank fired.

Next were the silhouettes of Hamas warriors charging, and the intense scenes of them exchanging fire with security forces inside the settlement.

In the video, a one-armed Hamas veteran knelt before a luxury villa turned into ruins, tears streaming down his face as he kissed the ground beneath his feet.

A young warrior stroked a dilapidated wooden door used as a decoration, weeping uncontrollably.

At the end of the video, the camera slowly pulled back, freezing on a comparison between an old and new photo.

One was a black-and-white photo of Al-Aqsa Village from thirty years ago, peaceful and serene.

The other was the now brightly lit New Hope settlement, built in the exact same location.

The video concluded without any text, except for a line of large words written in blood appearing in the center of the screen:

"We are home."

The video was like a heavy bomb, instantly detonating across the global network.

Within just a few minutes, views surpassed ten million, and shares increased exponentially.

A surviving resident of the New Hope settlement posted a photo of her destroyed home on Twitter with trembling hands, captioned:

"A group of terrorists is massacring civilians! Our home is destroyed! Someone help us! @White House @Israel Ministry of Defense"

She thought she would receive sympathy and support from the whole world.

However, the tone of the comment section was completely beyond her imagination.

The top comment, from a Hua Federation netizen, was just a single image: a yellowed scan of a land deed from the Ottoman Empire era, clearly marking the ownership of the land of Al-Aqsa Village.

"I was just thinking, after living there as a tenant for decades, you really started to think you were the landlord?"

The second top comment came from a Black youth in the U Federation:

"Wow, cool! So you guys finally know what it feels like to have your house taken away?"

The third top comment was from a Russian Federation netizen:

"Demolishing illegal structures requires no application."

Following that, netizens from all over the world flooded into the comment section like a tide:

"This place never belonged to you; it belongs to the Palestinians!"

"My grandfather is a historian; he can prove that the New Hope settlement is completely illegal under international law!"

"Good job! Welcome home, true owners!"

"This isn't a terrorist attack; this is the most righteous forced demolition in the world!"

Countless historical photos, land deeds, UN resolutions, and historians' papers were unearthed from the archives by netizens, thrust like swords into the heart of Israel.

The survivor's tearful tweet, instead of garnering sympathy, turned into a massive face-slapping event.

Her accusation became a grand public trial by netizens worldwide against Israel's shameful act of "occupying the magpie's nest."

Under the overwhelming wave of public opinion, the tweet was soon deleted by the poster herself.

But it was already too late.

The fires of revenge burned not only on the land of Gaza but also across the global internet, burning away Israel's last shred of dignity.