55: Chapter 55 The Dragon Kingdom's Secret Envoy's Trump Card, and the "Household Registration" of 20,000 Ghosts

In the afternoon in Pangkham, the sun scorched the streets mercilessly, leaving an oily sheen on the newly paved asphalt as the air filled with the humid heat and dust characteristic of the tropics.

On the third floor of the military headquarters, the air conditioning was running at full blast in the luxurious office that once belonged to Bao Youxiang.

Zhang Cheng stood before the floor-to-ceiling window without drawing the curtains. He held an unlit cigarette between his fingers, his gaze drifting past the street renovations below to the lush green mountains in the distance. That was the direction of the Salween River, the front line where he faced off across the water against his old rival to the south, Bao Youxiang.

The room offered an excellent view, allowing one to overlook most of Pangkham. That old geezer Bao Youxiang used to love standing here, fiddling with walnuts in his hand, savoring the local tyrant's thrill of 'I am the state.'

Now that it had a new master, the gaudy, vulgar golden decorations had long since been tossed out, replaced by a simple and rugged military style. On the wall hung a massive tactical map covered in dense red and blue arrows, resembling mouths ready to devour their prey.

"Dominator, the guests from the Dragon Kingdom have arrived."

Li Lanzhi's voice sounded from behind him, breaking the silence of the room. Today, she wore a dark gray professional suit with her hair meticulously pinned up. Though her tone was respectful, her efficiency as the 'household manager' was becoming increasingly apparent.

Zhang Cheng turned around, casually tossed the cigarette into the trash can, and adjusted his collar. "Show them in. Our old friend wouldn't come all this way without a good reason."

A few minutes later, the door was pushed open.

Zhao Gang walked in. He looked the same as ever, wearing a semi-worn jacket with an appearance so ordinary he'd disappear in a crowd. However, his eyes were as calm as two deep pools of water, with occasional flashes of sharpness that made people look away. This was a temperament honed through years of crawling through the secret frontlines—seemingly gentle, but actually a needle hidden in silk.

"Mr. Zhao, thank you for making the trip. These mountain roads aren't easy to travel, are they?" Zhang Cheng took a few steps forward to greet him, extending his hand.

"Chairman Zhang is too kind. It's my duty, I'm used to it." Zhao Gang's grip was steady and strong, the thick calluses on his palm pressing painfully against the hand. "We're old acquaintances, so I won't beat around the bush. This battle in North Wa was handled beautifully. The evaluation from above consists of just one word: Approval."

The two took their seats in the lounge area. After Li Lanzhi personally served two cups of green tea, she withdrew and closed the door behind her.

Zhang Cheng picked up his teacup and took a sip, not letting himself get carried away by that 'approval.' He understood the logic of great power politics all too well; in the adult world, praise is often the prelude to a request.

"Approval is usually followed by a 'but'." Zhang Cheng set down his teacup and looked at Zhao Gang with a faint smile. "Mr. Zhao, speak plainly. Is the crowd in Naypyidaw unable to sit still?"

"More than just unable to sit still; they're practically sitting on a volcano with their backsides getting scorched." Zhao Gang smiled, his fingers tapping unconsciously on his knee. "You rose too fast, and your methods were too ruthless. You wiped out the Four Great Families just like that, and Bao Youxiang, a warlord of decades, was driven south by you like a duck. The military government in Myanmar both fears and hates you now. They fear your combat power and hate that you... don't quite follow the 'rules' of their circle."

Zhao Gang stood up, walked to the sand table, and pointed at the location of Naypyidaw, his tone turning serious. "Their strategy now is clear: since they can't win militarily, they'll play politics and use underhanded tactics. On one hand, they're smearing you internationally, calling you a new warlord and a terrorist disrupting regional stability. On the other hand, they're secretly supporting the remnants of South Wa and other Ethnic Armed Groups to trip you up. They want to drag you into a quagmire of long-term internal friction, waiting for you to be exhausted before they come out to clean up the mess."

Zhang Cheng's eyes turned cold, his fingers lightly stroking the wooden frame of the sand table as he let out a cold snort. "Those useless trash. They're no good at fighting, but they're well-versed in these low-handed tricks. So, what is the Dragon Kingdom's intention?"

"Fighting must have a strategy. Charging blindly makes it easy to become a target for everyone, and it doesn't align with our grand policy of 'good neighborliness and friendship'." Zhao Gang turned around, his eyes burning as he looked at Zhang Cheng. "The domestic suggestion is: quit while you're ahead and use force to promote peace. We can act as a mediator, exert influence, and arrange for you and Naypyidaw to sit down and talk."

"Talk?" Zhang Cheng raised an eyebrow, a playful curve hooking the corner of his mouth. "Talk about what? Amnesty? Having me become Min Aung Hlaing's dog?"

"No, it's about negotiating a 'status'." Zhao Gang's tone grew heavy and his expression solemn. "A status that can turn you from an 'illegal armed leader' into a 'legitimate internal political force in Myanmar'. With this skin, many things will have a legal basis to operate. Support from the Dragon Kingdom can also move from under the table to the stage—supplies, funds, and even technology can come in more openly."

He explained in detail: "We will apply pressure to push Naypyidaw to recognize your actual control over Kokang and North Wa while saving face, granting you the legal status of 'High Autonomy'. For example, establishing a Special Administrative Region where you serve as the Chief Executive. Your army can be reorganized as a 'Local Defense Force,' nominally placed within the Defense Forces sequence, but in reality..."

Zhao Gang smiled meaningfully. "You understand—loyal in name but independent in command. As long as the surface looks good, the substance is all yours."

Zhang Cheng fell silent.

He leaned back on the sofa, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest as he rapidly weighed the pros and cons in his mind.

This was indeed a good move. While 'Dawn' was strong now, it was always a 'rebel army' in terms of international law. It was like running around naked; even if you were muscular, anyone could come up and spit on you.

With this status, he would essentially be wearing a layer of body armor. Any future trouble would be considered 'Myanmar's internal affairs,' and Western powers would have to think twice before intervening. The Dragon Kingdom's aid would no longer need to be smuggled in like a thief.

"Sounds good." Zhang Cheng spoke slowly, but his tone suddenly became as sharp as a blade. "But I have three conditions, and I won't settle for less. If even one is missing, I'll flip the negotiating table."

"Please, go on." Zhao Gang sat up straight.

"First, Kokang and North Wa must have complete autonomy. Naypyidaw cannot station a single soldier, nor can they interfere with my administration, taxation, or personnel appointments. In my territory, only I have the final say."

"Second, my troops must have an independent designation and complete command authority. It's not an incorporation, it's a partnership. They can send liaison officers, but they can only bring their eyes and ears; they'd better keep their mouths shut."

"Third," Zhang Cheng stared dead into Zhao Gang's eyes, enunciating every word, "all cooperation between the Dragon Kingdom and me, whether in trade, infrastructure, or security, is none of Naypyidaw's business, much less their place to interfere. This is our bottom line."

After hearing this, a hint of a relaxed smile appeared on Zhao Gang's tense face. Although Zhang Cheng's conditions were harsh and even somewhat overbearing, it proved he was a mature politician who knew what he wanted, rather than a brute who only knew how to kill.

"Very reasonable. These are exactly what we are prepared to help you fight for." Zhao Gang nodded. "Naypyidaw is currently beset by internal and external difficulties, and the Ethnic Armed Groups in the south are restless. As long as we give them a way out that saves face, they have no reason to refuse. However..."

His tone shifted, and his gaze became deep, even carrying a hint of worry. "They will definitely make an issue out of the source of your army. Your soldiers... they are too elite, and their origins are a mystery. If they demand an audit of personnel files or use it as an excuse to make trouble by accusing you of using 'foreign mercenaries,' it will be a big problem."

This was also what Li Lanzhi had been worried about. An invincible legion appearing out of thin air, twenty to thirty thousand men with no hometowns, no relatives, and no past—how could that be explained? This was the biggest weakness.

Hearing this, Zhang Cheng suddenly laughed.

He laughed casually, as if this wasn't a problem at all, but a joke.

"Files? No problem." Zhang Cheng stood up and walked to the window. With his back to Zhao Gang, he watched the soldiers on patrol outside. "Mr. Zhao, help me pass a message to those people in Naypyidaw. Tell them my soldiers are all local Kokang sons who picked up guns to defend their homes. If they don't believe it, they are welcome to check anytime. I guarantee every file will withstand the strictest scrutiny; they'll even be able to find out how many times they wet the bed as kids."

After seeing off a confused but trusting Zhao Gang, Li Lanzhi closed the door and approached with a worried look. "Dominator, this... how can they check? Our army has no past at all! If Naypyidaw really gets serious and sends people to the villages to investigate..."

"Lan Zhi, you must remember that in this world, some 'truths' can be created."

Zhang Cheng's eyes were deep as he shifted his thoughts, calling up the system panel that only he could see.

His gaze swept past the point balance of 1.8 million and settled on an option that had been grayed out before but was now flashing with a golden light due to his increased authority—

[Deep Identity Background Rationalization Implant (Regional Level)]

This was the true confidence that allowed him to challenge Naypyidaw and place this phantom legion in the light of day!

"System," he muttered in his mind, his tone carrying a hint of dominance, "activate the Regional Deep Identity Camouflage function. Target: All summoned and future preset summoned Death Soldiers units."

[Analyzing world-level underlying information rules...] [Warning: Regional-level deep implantation will permanently alter some causal information. Required Points: 50,000. Execute?]

Fifty thousand points? To the current Zhang Cheng, that was merely five days' income, a drop in the bucket!

"Execute! Set background: Indigenous residents of Kokang and North Wa regions, Northern Shan State, Federation of Myanmar. Complete family genealogies, neighborhood relationships, and growth trajectories. Set some personnel as having served in other Ethnic Armed Groups or the Myanmar Army before retiring to their hometowns. Ensure a logical closed loop that is flawless! I want every one of them to have a name, a family, and a traceable history!"

[Command confirmed. Consuming 50,000 points. Beginning modification of underlying information anchors...]

Buzz—

An invisible ripple, imperceptible to ordinary people, centered on Zhang Cheng and instantly spread across the entirety of Northern Myanmar, even penetrating the causal laws of this world.

At this moment, a miracle occurred.

On a level beyond human perception, the 'pasts' of tens of thousands of Death Soldiers were being woven, embedded, and solidified out of thin air.

They were no longer cold data generated by a system.

In a certain village, a memory suddenly appeared in Auntie Li's mind: the eldest son of the family next door, Tie Zhu, went off to be a soldier two years ago and now seems to be a big official in Pangkham.

On a dusty retirement register in the Myanmar Army archives, several lines of old handwriting appeared.

In the pocket of a certain Death Soldier, a yellowed family photo appeared out of nowhere.

This was called—deceiving the heavens to cross the sea, turning the fake into reality!

Zhang Cheng turned around and looked at the dazed Li Lanzhi, who had no idea what had happened, a confident curve hooking his lips.

"Notify Old K to prepare for a full army reorganization. The name 'Death God Legion' is too murderous; it might scare the children. From now on, internally and externally, we shall be known as the 'Shan State North Kokang National Self-Defense Force,' or 'Kokang National Army' for short!"

"I want those people in Naypyidaw to see what 'the will of the people' looks like, what 'soldiers of the people' look like! They want to investigate? Then let them investigate to their heart's content!"