Chapter 85

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Chapter 85: The Chief’s Guard

Perhaps considering the varying combat abilities among these bandit-born soldiers, it was difficult to standardize their wild, bandit-like fighting style, so the focus was on quantity, not quality. Therefore, there were no company ranks; the organization started directly from squads, with each squad approximately consisting of the strength of three companies.

In command of life and death was a charming blonde woman from Russia named Natasha. With a waspish waist and curvaceous figure, her exquisite face radiated temptation. However, these seasoned bandits did not dare harbor any improper thoughts. After losing a few lives, they understood that this woman was definitely a rose with a poisonous stinger.

“Reporting to you, Commander, a new Kazakh kid named Morin has shown impressive skills in the twenty-second squad. He was originally under Lone Wolf Yakov, and just a week after arriving, he has already killed or injured over twenty challengers.”

Natasha, dressed in desert camo and preferring combat to cosmetics, listened as a muscled Russian giant quietly reported on the internal conditions of the Red Scorpion’s guards. Natasha slightly shifted, her camouflage shirt barely containing her waves of curves, nearly bursting at the seams.

Clearly, the stinger rose upheld the rules perfectly, as the reporting Russian muscleman kept his eyes straight ahead, not daring to steal a glance.

Among the outlaws who believe in the law of the jungle, fists determined their standing. Lin Mo was already low-key, but blending in with these thugs offered little advantage. Unbelievers in his strength quickly sought him out, showing no courtesy; each one that fell to him counted—whether dead or just injured. Apart from Yakov and his close associates, the taciturn Lin Mo quickly established his position with his fists. His greatest concern, the language barrier, was overshadowed by his prowess.

To outsiders, Lin Mo was the distant nephew of Lone Wolf Yakov, seeking refuge with his uncle after committing murder outside. The truth remained unknown even to Yakov’s closest aides. They only saw Lin Mo wielding a broken-tip knife, while the chief displayed the blade hanging around his neck. Their combination formed a complete small knife, and the chief warmly accepted Lin Mo as one of their own, taking special care of him, leaving others oblivious to the truth.

“What an interesting little Kazakh! Find a few people to test him. Also, investigate further; if all checks out, recommend him to Frank. The Chief’s Guard needs skilled hands like his. Inform the lower ranks that their training quota will double. These fellows are living too comfortably.”

Natasha smiled charmingly, revealing an allure as she surveyed the soldiers practicing in the camp. Her dark sunglasses concealed her true thoughts as she flicked her whip playfully.

“Ivan, do you have anything else?” Natasha noticed her subordinate hesitating to leave, seeming to want to say more.

“Uh, Commander, about that…” The muscled Russian man seemed frightened, stuttering with uncertainty.

Snap! A red mark appeared on the muscled man’s face as Natasha retracted her whip. “Speak quickly! If you hesitate again, I’ll cut out your tongue, and you won’t be able to speak ever again.”

The Russian muscleman dared not show an ounce of anger, not even covering his face, “Colonel Yahann Frank would like to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. He has already reserved a table at the Makhilo Restaurant.”

“Hahahaha…” Natasha suddenly burst into melodic laughter, like pearls falling on a jade plate, as another red mark appeared on the muscled man’s face, forming an X with the one before it.

“Uh!” The Russian muscleman felt helpless, knowing that even a small gesture against this woman could lead to his demise, leaving him with nowhere to be buried.

Rumor has it that this woman underwent training with one of the world’s most elite intelligence agencies: Israel’s Mossad, excelling in close combat while able to effortlessly eliminate a dozen strong men.

“Go tell Colonel Frank that whether I attend tonight depends on my mood. If I’m in a good mood, I’ll go; if not, let him wait there.” Natasha caressed her whip, turning her face to show a cunning smile.

In the desert, the most cost-effective weapon was the AK; the unmatched AK. After the “King of Guns” Mikhail Timofeyevich Kalashnikov reintroduced the small-caliber AK-74 to the Soviet army, the classic AK-47 was swiftly replaced. With its simple structure, affordability, and extreme durability, the AK-74 became the first choice among bandits.

Lin Mo frequently reminded himself of the gold giant dragon Gold Coin, which pretended to be a low-quality bracelet, ensuring this greedy individual did not mistake his freshly acquired AK-74 for a snack. Nonetheless, he also patted his chest, promising that when the opportunity arose, he would let this dragon feast to its heart’s content.

The operational plan provided by the Twin Stars of the Night Intelligence Group positioned Lin Mo as a key player, although not the main character. His objective was two F-14 fighter jets belonging to the Red Scorpion organization. His task wasn’t to destroy the planes but to stealthily fly them away for some fun for the Red Scorpion’s "neighbors." Whether those "neighbors" believed the Red Scorpion had been framed was irrelevant to Lin Mo; other operatives from the Night Intelligence Group would ensure these neighbors were convinced otherwise. Under certain pressures, these neighbors would likely be pleased to run into such a misunderstanding.

In this action plan, Lin Mo was critical but not alone; nearly one-tenth of the Night Intelligence Group’s members were deployed, utilizing some intelligence networks and "nails" from Central Asia.

However, Lin Mo was not MI6 agent 007 James Bond. Although he was deep within the Red Scorpion’s headquarters, he could not move about freely. The Bull Demon King’s domain was not defenseless enough to let him run wild. Access within the Red Scorpion’s military camp was strictly controlled; unauthorized departures were prohibited. Patrols occurred around the clock, and inspections took place every hour at night. If anyone attempted to infiltrate under the guise of reorganization for sinister purposes, they would easily be discovered and dealt with without hesitation.

Although Lin Mo had received a brand new AK-74, ammunition was tightly controlled. A gun without bullets was less useful than a machete.

“Morin, don’t sleep yet! Come out!”

As Lin Mo lay on his single bed, he heard his squad leader, a bearded man, calling from the dormitory door. Lin Mo understood the name “Morin,” but barely grasped the following words, managing to engage in brief exchanges thanks to his time with Yakov.

In this place, languages mixed—Russian, Kazakh, Turkic, and Uzbek—though Russian and English served as the common tongues. Many were former outlaws with little education, making it hard to understand their local dialects.

Lin Mo got up again and followed the bearded man outside, walking all the way to the grassy field of the training grounds.

“These are the guards, testing.” The squad leader spoke in a tone filled with unexpected eagerness, knowing that Morin only trusted Lone Wolf Yakov. Others didn’t garner any attention from him at all, and he wasn’t sure which language Lin Mo understood. He gestured as animatedly as he could.

Five soldiers stood tall like javelins, dressed in black uniforms that exuded the confidence and pride of elite warriors. They raised their chins slightly, scrutinizing Lin Mo, some expressionless and others disdainful, clearly not viewing Lin Mo as a threat.

The material of their uniforms surpassed the standard gear worn by Lin Mo and his group, equipped with multi-functional tactical vests capable of carrying various attachments. The difference in spirit between them and the standard Red Scorpion soldiers was evident.

Lin Mo blinked in confusion while the bearded man flailed about for a while before giving up. He was unsure if Lin Mo had understood anything at all.

The bearded man turned to the five special soldiers, shrugged, spread his hands, muttering something, then stepped back.

Lin Mo tilted his head, examining the five soldiers. In truth, he had yet to encounter warriors of his caliber in this world. Even in other realms, Dragon Knights were powerful fighters comparable to sword saints. Despite their unique appearance, Lin Mo did not consider these five particularly formidable.

Recently, inexplicable challengers had grown in number, including some notorious figures from the camp. Lin Mo never welcomed bullying, and he held no mercy for these mixed-bag bandits, delivering severe blows that deterred many outlaws with ill intentions.

Public duels, where even death bore no consequence, were a benefit of the anarchic governance under the Red Scorpion. In just half a month, the number of challengers who fell to Lin Mo had exceeded ten, with casualties evenly split between life and death. Those who survived were left utterly incapacitated, as the Red Scorpion had no habit of nurturing the weak; their fates remained a mystery.

Seeing Lin Mo’s dismissive attitude, the five black uniformed soldiers exchanged glances. One of them, standing to the far left, suddenly stepped forward, adopting a fighting stance and began to circle Lin Mo slowly.

It seemed he was looking for a weak point on Lin Mo’s body. This soldier was evidently a battle-hardened veteran. Although he had previously dismissed Lin Mo, the prospect of engaging him brought a grave expression to his face, like a lion prepared to hunt a rabbit. Regardless of the opponent’s strength, he would give his all.

Despite the effectiveness of such tactics, Lin Mo remained unmoved, even yawning casually.

Seizing the opportunity, the soldier lunged forward, attempting to strike Lin Mo’s neck from behind with a powerful chop, muscles rippling with confidence. He believed this one move would bring down even a bull.