409: Chapter 409 Death Squad 3.0 Unlocked: Planting the Flag in Africa

"Razor" rushed out of the warehouse gate, raised his SVD, and swept the scope across the rooftops of the port area.

He saw them—on the roof of the abandoned tobacco factory opposite, stood four figures wearing optical camouflage.

The surface of their camouflage suits was slowly shifting from the color of the factory's red brick walls to the gray-blue of the sky.

The muzzles of all four figures were aimed directly at him.

Before his finger could even pull the trigger, his neck was gripped by a hand.

That hand belonged to "Gargoyle"—at the exact moment "Razor" had rushed out of the warehouse, he had dropped silently from the rafters, landing barefoot on the concrete floor, with the spine of a ceramic composite dagger pressed against "Razor's" carotid artery.

"Drop the blade. Live." "Gargoyle" said in English. Each word was picked up by the bone conduction headset, sounding to "Razor" as if someone were speaking right against his ear.

The corner of "Razor's" mouth twitched.

His right hand loosened, and the SVD dropped to the concrete floor, the barrel striking it with a sharp ring.

He looked down at his right hand, which was missing two fingers—this hand had once killed seventeen people in Mali, bombed three oil fields in Nigeria, and buried a tribal elder alive in South Sudan.

Now it was empty, trembling slightly in the midday sun.

Outside the warehouse's iron gate, the nine perimeter guards had been taken down by "Shadow Blade"—not killed, but captured alive.

Each of them had their hands bound behind their backs with carbon fiber zip ties, noise-canceling foam stuffed in their mouths, and infrared blackout patches over their eyes, kneeling in a row.

"Gargoyle" pressed the comms button. "Six CIA consultants fully secured. 'Razor' captured alive. Nine perimeter personnel captured alive. Maputo—clean."

Naypyidaw Presidential Palace, Zhang Cheng's office.

When Li Lanzhi pushed the door open to enter, Zhang Cheng was watching real-time data from major global video platforms.

The video of Harper being interrogated—footage of the six CIA consultants one by one stating their names, positions, and mission details to the camera—had already exceeded forty million views on YouTube.

The video was uncensored and unmuted; after each name, a snippet of their communication with Council of Elders was included, complete with frequency information and encryption protocol parameters.

"The frequency band of the Barrett encrypted phone has been made public." Li Lanzhi placed a document on the table. "A spokesperson for the US Department of State was asked about this at a press conference and replied, 'No comment.'"

"The French Ministry of Foreign Affairs has recalled its ambassador to Mozambique, citing 'consultations'—in reality, they are clearing out classified documents from the embassy."

"The European External Action Service has just issued a statement, calling on all parties to 'exercise restraint.'"

"Exercise restraint." Zhang Cheng repeated the words, the corner of his mouth twitching.

The curve was not a smile—it was a kind of calmness that completely rejected the meaning of those four words combined.

"They didn't talk about exercising restraint when they watched the CIA orchestrate coups and assassinations in Africa, but now that it's been exposed, they say we should exercise restraint."

He closed the video data and pulled up a map of Mozambique.

On the map, three coastal gas blocks in Cabo Delgado Province were marked in dark blue, the area north of Palma town was marked as "People's Defense Zone Controlled Area," and Mueda Village was marked as the "Initial Point for Operation Lighthouse."

A green dashed line was drawn for the route from Cabo Delgado Province to Maputo—that was the route for João's next operation.

"President Nyusi's encrypted call." Li Lanzhi placed the call record on the table. "He called after the protests broke out—the first time it wasn't routed through the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, but dialed directly from the Presidential Palace using the encrypted channel we provided."

"What did he say?"

"Requesting assistance to maintain order. The exact words were—" Li Lanzhi opened her notebook, "'Please let Mr. João Mutale come to Maputo. I need his men to protect the Presidential Palace.'"

Zhang Cheng stood up and walked to the window. Outside, the Naypyidaw sunset was sinking over the Irrawaddy River, dyeing the water dark gold.

He was silent for a moment, then said: "Reply to Nyusi: João leaves tomorrow. Not just to protect the Presidential Palace—but to help him clear out all CIA safe houses in Maputo. Leave none behind."

The encrypted call connected to João's frequency. When João's voice came through the satellite link, there were the sounds of seagulls and tide hitting the breakwater in the background.

"João, go to Maputo tomorrow."

"Received." João paused, then asked a question.

This question was not about tactics, not about equipment, and not about the enemy—"Inside the Presidential Palace, do you need me to plant another flag?"

Zhang Cheng did not answer. He simply placed the encrypted phone back on the desk, watching the last ray of sunset over the Irrawaddy River sink below the horizon.

Then he said to Li Lanzhi: "Notify Night Owl. Start the fixed route from Cabo Delgado Province to Kyaukpyu Port. The first batch of liquefied natural gas—loaded within three months."

Outside the window, night fell over Naypyidaw.

The Federation flag in the Presidential Palace square fluttered in the night wind, and on the base of the flagpole was an inscription in Burmese, which Zhang Cheng had written himself when the new capital was completed—"We are not here to be guests."

On Zhang Cheng's retina, the system interface suddenly unfolded without any warning.

Golden streams of light converged from the edges of his vision toward the center, condensing into a line of large Burmese characters: [Death Soldier System 3.0 Upgrade Complete]

He put down the encrypted telegram in his hand and straightened up from the leather chair in the Presidential Palace's secret room.

The walls of the secret room were made of double-layered steel plates sandwiching ceramic composite armor, capable of withstanding a direct hit from a 2,000-pound bunker-busting bomb.

But at this moment, in this underground bunker capable of withstanding a nuclear blast wave, he was the only one there.

[Controlled Territory: Federation of Myanmar, Kingdom of Thailand, Kingdom of Cambodia, Cabo Delgado Province, Mozambique (People's Defense Zone)]

[Controlled Population: Approximately 217 million]

[Daily Fixed Points: 100,000 points]

[Current Available Points: 11,470,000 points]

Zhang Cheng stared at the number—11,470,000 points.

If exchanged for DF-17 hypersonic missiles, he could get over two thousand of them, enough to wipe the Seventh Fleet's home port off the map twenty times over.

But his finger did not tap on the weapons store. He tapped on the three new icons that had popped up in the bottom right corner of the system interface.

The first icon was a silver brainwave pattern, labeled [Tech Pioneer Specialized Death Soldier Module].

Zhang Cheng tapped it open, and the sub-directory that popped up made his pupils slightly contract—Quantum Computing Architect, General Artificial Intelligence Theorist, Controlled Nuclear Fusion Engineer, Gene Editing and Synthetic Biology Expert, Superconducting Materials Physicist, Nanomechanical Designer, Gravitational Wave Communication Theory Researcher, Dark Matter Detection and Utilization Expert, Space Curvature Propulsion Theorist, Interstellar Ecology Architect.

Ten sub-categories, each marked with "Customizable—Nobel Prize-level resume implantation—Native-level language module—Absolute loyalty core code."

The second icon was a bronze-colored tree, its roots digging into gears, its branches and leaves reaching toward the stars. Labeled: [National-Level Tech Tree Accelerator—Shortens R&D cycle by 90%—Required points: 500,000 points/year].