99: Your lives belong to me.

The phone rang for a long time before it was picked up.

"General, it's quite late. Is there something urgent?" Jameson's voice carried a hint of sleepiness, yet remained polite.

"Mr. Jameson! I need a definitive answer!"

Zhao Chengshun's tone was urgent, leaving no room for pleasantries.

"My superiors have reviewed your materials. They are very interested, but we need to verify its authenticity!"

"We require a test flight!"

Zhao Chengshun spoke deliberately, emphasizing every single word.

"We need to send our most elite pilots to conduct a comprehensive performance test of the 'JF-17 Thunder Block 3'! The location and time will be set by you!"

The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds.

"General, I completely understand your request."

Jameson's voice returned to its usual professional composure.

"However, I need to coordinate this matter."

"Coordinate? With whom?" Zhao Chengshun pressed.

"With our client." Jameson's answer stunned Zhao Chengshun.

"Client? Isn't this plane... yours?"

"The aircraft is certainly our product. But we have already sold the first batch of 'JF-17 Thunder Block 3' to our client."

"Therefore, if you wish to conduct a test flight, you need the client's permission."

"Who did you sell it to?" Zhao Chengshun's heart skipped a beat, and a guess surfaced in his mind.

Jameson chuckled lightly.

"Bolivia."

"The Bolivian National Defense Force."

Boom!

Zhao Chengshun's mind buzzed.

So it was them!

That mysterious arms dealer supporting the rise of Bolivia's new government was this very company, David Corporation!

Only now did he realize what kind of terrifying entity he was dealing with.

This was no longer a simple arms dealer.

This was a shadowy behemoth capable of propping up national regimes and controlling a country's military power!

"I understand." Zhao Chengshun swallowed. "Please coordinate quickly. We... await your news."

"Boss, the Huaxians have taken the bait."

Inside a luxuriously decorated penthouse suite, Jameson respectfully stood before a young man, reporting.

The young man stood with his back to him, overlooking the city's night view outside the window.

He was David.

"They requested a test flight to verify the performance of the 'JF-17 Thunder Block 3'."

"Then let them fly."

David turned around, his face devoid of much expression.

To him, this was just a perfectly normal business deal.

"Tell them to contact Bolivia's Air Force Commander, Ruben, directly. Tell him I authorized it."

"Yes, Boss."

Jameson nodded, preparing to withdraw.

"Wait." David stopped him.

"Continue to follow up on the Huaxia business. But don't put all your eggs in one basket."

David walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

"Things haven't been peaceful recently in the Crescent Nation. And Africa, there are opportunities everywhere."

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his gaze profound.

"Expand into new markets. Whether it's the regular armies of those countries, local private militias, or even gangs."

"As long as they can afford the price, we will sell."

"Starting now, summarize the business progress in all regions for me every three months."

Jameson's heart pounded violently.

The Boss's ambition was far greater than he had imagined.

This wasn't just selling arms; this was sowing the seeds of war worldwide.

"I understand, Boss!"

After dismissing Jameson, David dialed another number.

"Juan, have you brought the men?"

"Boss, they are waiting outside."

"Have them enter."

Soon, thirty burly men with fierce eyes filed into the room.

Every one of them carried a strong scent of blood.

These men were elites filtered from battlefields around the world, true Special Forces Deathsworn.

Leading them was a Latin American man with a scar on his face, Ishmael.

"From today onward, your lives belong to me."

David's gaze swept over each face, his tone calm but carrying undeniable authority.

"Ishmael."

"Present, Boss!" The scar-faced man stepped forward.

"You will serve as the person in charge of the Latin America Region."

David tossed him an unregistered bank card.

"There are two million US dollars in here. That is your startup capital."

"You have only one mission."

David walked up to Ishmael and patted his shoulder.

"Sell our weapons all across Latin America."

"Remember my rules."

A cruel curve appeared at the corner of David's mouth.

"We do not sell our weapons to the Government Army of any nation."

"We only sell to drug dealers, gangs, and all organizations looking to overthrow the existing order."

"I want that land to forever maintain a delicate balance."

"A balance of ceaseless conflict, yet without total collapse."

David stood alone before the floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the city below that was gradually recovering from the ravages of war.

His finger lightly tapped the glass, producing a crisp sound.

"Ishmael's move is like tossing a stone into muddy water. But Bolivia, my base of operations, must be as stable as Mount Tai."

He muttered to himself.

A powerful Bolivian National Defense Force, completely under his control, was the confidence he needed to place pieces freely on the global chessboard.

Although the current National Defense Force has been equipped with new gear, it still lacks scale.

If surrounding major powers, such as Brazil or Argentina, were truly instigated by certain forces to harbor ill intentions.

Relying solely on the current strength would still be somewhat difficult to cope with.

"System."

David silently recited this in his mind.

A light blue screen, visible only to him, instantly unfolded before his eyes.

The dazzling list of weapons and equipment was like an endless arms supermarket.

David tapped the air with his finger.

"Add fifteen more JF-17 Thunder Block 3 fighter jets."

"Supplement the BM270 'Hurricane' Multiple Launch Rocket System ammunition base with fifty units."

"Supplement the type 15 light tank armor-piercing rounds, high-explosive rounds, and cannon-launched missiles ammunition base with fifty units as well."

Following his confirmation, a sum of points was rapidly deducted from the System interface.

"Manifestation location: Santa Cruz Province, Roboré Military Airport."

David chose this location, far from the capital, La Paz.

He understood the principle of not putting all your eggs in one basket better than anyone.

Deploying a portion of the air force and heavy ground firepower separately.

This enhances the nation's deep defense capabilities and prevents being wiped out in a single stroke.

Having finished all this, the curve at the corner of David's mouth deepened.

Now, he just had to wait and watch the Huaxians' show.

Meanwhile, in Huaxia.

After receiving the official notification from Bolivia agreeing to the test flight, Zhao Chengshun was so excited he nearly jumped up and down.

"Quickly! Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

He practically roared the command.

"Notify the test pilots! Notify the technical experts! We depart immediately!"

A few hours later, a special plane roared off from a military airport in the Capital City, carrying Zhao Chengshun and a capable team, flying directly to South America.

After more than ten hours of long flight, the plane landed smoothly at La Paz International Airport.

The cabin door opened, and the slightly cool air unique to the plateau rushed in.

Zhao Chengshun took a deep breath, suppressed his excitement, and was the first to walk down the boarding steps.

Below the steps, an elegant middle-aged man wearing glasses had been waiting for a long time.