268: Chapter 268 This is our final ultimatum

Barak's expression shifted. This wasn't the "tunnel rat" he had imagined—not the disheveled, incoherent figure who could only shout slogans. The man on the screen had eyes as cold as ice and a posture as relaxed as if he were in his own backyard, yet every inch of his muscles radiated the toughness of someone forged through blood and fire.

"Just now, I heard the 'conditional ceasefire' proposal presented by the representative of the Squid Nation," Sinwar continued, his tone devoid of mockery, carrying only the flatness of stating facts. "Very interesting. The aggressors occupy our land, blow up our homes, kill our children, and then tell us: as long as you lay down your weapons and admit defeat, we will 'consider' stopping the killing."

He paused.

"This is not a ceasefire agreement. This is a letter of surrender."

Barak's fists clenched tight.

"Therefore," Sinwar stood up from the wall, the camera adjusting its angle with his movement. Now, the scene behind him was clearer—several children were crouching in the ruins, rummaging for something; an old man limped past; in the distance, women were lighting fires outside tents made of rags. "I am also proposing our conditions."

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. On the paper was neatly handwritten Arabic script.

"First," Sinwar's voice suddenly turned hard, "the Squid Nation military must completely, unconditionally, and immediately withdraw from all areas of the Gaza Strip. This includes the eastern border buffer zone and the coastal blockade zone occupied after the 1967 war. The withdrawal must be conducted under the supervision of United Nations observers, and the timeline must not exceed 72 hours."

Barak almost laughed out loud. 72 hours? Complete withdrawal? In your dreams!

"Second," Sinwar ignored everyone's reaction and continued reading, "immediately lift the seventeen-year-long total air, land, and sea blockade of the Gaza Strip. Allow the free movement of people, the free flow of goods, and the unrestricted entry of reconstruction materials. The Port of Gaza and the Rafah Crossing must be permanently opened."

"Third," his gaze seemed to pierce through the screen, looking directly at Barak, "the Squid Nation government must pay war reparations for the casualties and property damage caused by this war. The preliminary estimate is a total of 50 billion dollars. This money will be used for the reconstruction of the Gaza Strip, compensation for the families of victims, and the repair of destroyed infrastructure."

The sound of sharp intakes of breath echoed through the conference hall.

50 billion dollars! That was nearly double the Squid Nation's annual defense budget!

"Fourth," Sinwar folded the paper and put it back in his pocket, but the conditions weren't over yet, "the Prime Minister of the Squid Nation must represent the state and issue a public apology at the United Nations General Assembly. The apology must include: admitting that this war was an act of aggression, admitting to committing war crimes against Gaza civilians, promising never to use force against Gaza again, and supporting the Gaza people's right to self-determination."

He stopped.

The meeting room was deathly silent.

Even the French Chairman sat with his mouth agape, momentarily at a loss for words.

How were these negotiation conditions? This was practically an ultimate ultimatum from a victorious nation to a defeated one!

"Are... are you insane?!" Barak finally exploded, jumping to his feet and pointing at the screen. "Do you even know what you're saying?! Complete withdrawal? Lifting the blockade? 50 billion dollars in reparations? And the Prime Minister has to apologize?!"

His face turned beet red, his voice shrill with agitation. "Who do you think you are?! You win a few small-scale ambushes and you think you can stand on equal footing with a nation?! I'm telling you, in the eyes of the Squid Nation, the Gaza Resistance Organization will always be terrorists! Our willingness for a ceasefire is to give you a way out! Not for you to come here and commit extortion!"

Sinwar listened quietly to his roar.

Then, he tilted his head slightly.

"Deputy Minister Barak, is it?" His voice remained calm. "I would like to remind you of a few things."

"First, it's not that we 'think' we can stand on equal footing with a nation—it's that your military, with the wreckage of twenty merkava tanks and thirty armored vehicles, paved this negotiation table for us at the 'Three-Way Junction'."

"Second," Sinwar turned around, the camera following him as it panned over the ruins, the children crouching on the ground, and the burning buildings in the distance. "You ask if I know what I'm saying? I know. I know what my city has been bombed into. I know what it feels like for my children to have limbs amputated without anesthesia. I know what it looks like when a mother faints from crying while holding the charred corpse of her infant."

He turned back and looked directly into the camera.

"Is 50 billion dollars a lot? Then you shouldn't have dropped so many bombs in the first place. Is demanding an apology from the Prime Minister too much? Then your soldiers shouldn't have broken into other people's homes and pointed guns at children's heads."

"As for terrorists..." Sinwar smiled, a smile so cold it sent a chill down Barak's spine. "In the eyes of an occupying army, all resisters are terrorists. But in the eyes of my people, those who drive tanks over civilian areas, bomb hospitals with white phosphorus, and target ambulances with sniper rifles—those are the real terrorists."

"You—!" Barak trembled with rage.

"I have finished stating my conditions," Sinwar stopped looking at him and turned to the French Chairman. "Mr. Chairman, this is the stance of the people of Gaza. We will not surrender, we will not compromise, and we will not trade our land, our dignity, and the blood of our dead for the 'limited humanitarian corridors' bestowed by the aggressor."

"Either the Squid Nation accepts these four conditions, or—"

He paused, then said word for word:

"We will continue to fight. Fight to the last man, the last bullet. Until the aggressors learn respect, until the world remembers that some nations cannot be conquered with bombs and blockades."

The French Chairman spoke with difficulty, "Marshal Sinwar, I understand your emotions, but negotiations require concessions from both sides..."

"We have already made concessions," Sinwar interrupted him. "We gave up 78% of Palestinian land in 1948. We gave up East Jerusalem and the West Bank in 1967. Now, we are left with only this small enclave of Gaza, and you are still discussing whether or not to let us continue breathing here."

"We will not make any more concessions. Not an inch of land, not a shred of dignity."

Barak could no longer contain himself.

He suddenly grabbed the folder in front of him and slammed it hard onto the table!

"Absurd! Shameless! This is a blatant provocation! An open insult to the sovereignty and dignity of the Squid Nation!" He roared at the screen. "I officially announce that the delegation of the Squid Nation refuses to conduct any form of negotiation with terrorists! This meeting is over!"