King Of War: Starting with Arms Dealer

A small town in the northern part of Central Africa named 'Nova'...

Thanks to the diamond trade, 'Nova' could be considered the best-developed small town in northern Central Africa.

Its ruler was Zetaka!

This fellow originally didn't like living in 'Nova'; he preferred the town named after himself, 'Zetaka,' because there he was the true King, respected by everyone.

However, after being threatened by P·B's Super Albatross and humiliated in front of many subordinates by 'Rhino,' Zetaka, determined to seek revenge, retreated to 'Nova City' to settle down.

With many diamond merchants and civilians here, P·B, no matter how bold, wouldn't dare to bomb this place.

This time he decided to launch a comprehensive coup, not only to drive out the siblings Francois and Mary, but also to completely eradicate the people from P·B Company.

When over a thousand mercenaries with loads of light weaponry arrived from the direction of Chad, Zetaka still held back, simply arranging for those men to encamp in the wilderness outside the city and wait.

But when the long-coveted anti-aircraft missiles capable of shooting down fighter jets arrived, and after a few high-paid 'Missile soldiers' activated them, he couldn't hold back any longer.

This self-proclaimed diamond warlord and Central African democratic legend broadcast a notice to the entire nation via a high-powered radio station...

"I hereby declare to take over the governance of Central Africa, and anyone who obstructs me will be crushed into pieces..."

.........

The renowned freelance journalist Wallace heard Zetaka's proclamation in a small hotel in 'Nova City.'

He stood on the balcony of the hotel, capturing the scenes on the street with his camera.

Hundreds of young people took to the streets, initially just shouting slogans in support of Zetaka, but as part of the agitated lower-class blacks joined, smashing, looting, and arson began...

Who could have imagined that at the very start of the coup, the people in Zetaka-controlled territories became the first victims!

The locals seemed somewhat accustomed to it, as almost any call with a confrontational tone in Africa could incite such riots.

Most of these people were incredibly poor, having almost nothing, so breaking everything in sight was no loss to them.

After all, emotions were vented, benefits were reaped, and what if reality truly changed?

Behind him, Wallace heard the gasps of the hotel guests; fortunately, the hotel owner was competent, with a few armed hotel guards, he drove away those who tried to enter the hotel to rob it.

Looking at a group of youngsters who rushed into the bakery opposite, dragging out the owner for a beating, and then carrying away everything that could be taken...

Wallace used his camera to record this scene, cyclical in nature, and then packed his camera and went back into his room.

Those with nothing are the most pitiful, yet also the most terrifying!

Wallace had been to Iraq, to Aqionghan, experienced the Arab Spring in North Africa, and he had seen firsthand the consequences of those without hope being incited.

Sometimes, it didn't take grandiose words, but mere shouts of opposition for the sake of it.

It was about venting, about overthrowing everything because, for them, things couldn't get worse.

In the depths of despair, people simply cannot look further ahead.

Anger is a force, but without a great program to support it, the rage only serves as fuel for the ambitious, burning their existing environment to ash.

On reflection, they would realize that the world really could get worse!

Wallace wanted to record everything that happened in Nova City with his camera and show it to the whole world.

He sent the news out, then donned a soft bulletproof vest, shouldered a special backpack given by P·B's Hu Lang, tucked a pistol at his waist, wrapped a headscarf, put on an MSL-style robe, picked up his camera, and walked out of his room.

.........

Joe Ga stood in the command center, watching the footage transmitted from the airship, and said with disbelief, "What's this operation, robbing your own people first at the start of the coup?"

Karman replied with a deep and harsh tone, "Boss, this is just the beginning.

The agitated individuals will be armed, and they will join the mercenaries to strike, strengthening their ranks.

This isn't even the worst of it. If we can't take down Zetaka before he goes mad, he will let his troops ignite the entire city, and then tie all those people to his chariot."

Every word Karman said Joe Ga could understand, but still, the logic gave him the chills...

"I destroy everything you have, do you want to take it back? Then come with me to kill and plunder, otherwise..."

This is why the warlords of Africa are so terrifying!

Compared to the guerrillas and drug traffickers who cultivate child soldiers, warlords' methods are simpler and more brutal.

They lack organization, discipline, and foresight; they only have bloody rule.

As long as they can get more, they do not care at all about destroying everything they currently have.
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Karman's words cast a somber mood in the command room; the only blonde girl in the Joe Ga Five covered her mouth, seemingly unable to believe that such bizarre things could happen in the world.

As time passed, a part of the people who had been agitated began to flock to the camps in the wilderness outside the city, where they were given guns and vehicles, and then those who knew each other gathered together.

They didn't set off immediately, seemingly waiting for orders from someone.

Joe Ga knew what they were waiting for. He picked up the phone and called President Francois of Central Africa, saying, "Buddy, my men are ready; you can declare Zetaka an illegal armed group, and then I'll clean them up for you."

The excited Francois yelled on the phone, and then said loudly, "Hu Lang, Zetaka arranged for people to cause chaos in Bangui, but they were suppressed by the people I arranged.

I am informing the UN's blue helmets, asking them not to intervene in this Central African civil war.

In four hours, I will make a national speech..."

Joe Ga didn't have the time to listen to what Francois was saying; he hung up the phone and said with a bit of a laugh, "Who would believe that a nation's civil war is essentially no different from a gang brawl?

First, declare your position, then boost morale, and finally, it's time to fight.

In the past, it was usually the underlings who died; this time, we're going to get a batch of their leaders killed."

Having said that, Joe Ga picked up the radio and said, "Calling Team B, where are you now?"

Soon Sanderson's voice came through...

"This is Team B, this is B1; we have arrived at the Congo-Uganda border, those arms have stopped and have all been unloaded at a dock.

An inside informant told us that both the number one and number two figures of 'God's Armament' are on the dock.

They will transport a portion of those arms by boat into Congo's territory, to the people in the forward camps.

Sir, we will conduct close reconnaissance and plan to launch a raid simultaneously with nightfall in five hours.

Let them help us load the ships, which will save us a lot of effort, haha..."

Joe Ga calculated the time, then brought up the map of the area near where Sanderson's team was, and after a glance, he said, "That area is a swamp, very suitable for an air strike; two Mi-24s and two teams of 'Jungle Ghosts' are ready.

Remember to guide the air strike at the first moment of attack; we'll take out their command strength in one wave, and then it's your turn."

Sanderson on the other side of the communicator said, "Understood, boss, don't worry, we'll bring back your 'Hellfire' for you."

Joe Ga laughed out loud and, putting down the communicator, turned to Karman and said, "Stay here and keep an eye on things; I'm going to check out the hangar."

Karman knew Joe Ga couldn't stay put; he glanced at Thompson and Belic, who were constantly deploying the Northern troops, and again at the gridded map of the North, the old man shook his head in frustration, "I simply don't understand it..."

Joe Ga, however, knew what that strange map was...

It was a coordinate grid map, used to mark artillery coordinates so the rookies sitting in the command room could quickly report the enemy's location and then call for artillery fire.

The Xiao Hei of P·B were well-trained, but this time they needed a large number of artillerymen to join; the artillery company supported by Seville had to take care of the two most important 122mm self-propelled howitzers, and P·B lacked such specialized personnel, so the map of the predetermined battlefield had to be divided.

Each grid was 200 meters by 200 meters, and the Seville veteran leading the team had a handheld computer; the rear command informed them where to bomb, and they could adjust based on already calculated firing elements.

It didn't matter if it was accurate or not, 30 mortars with a caliber of 120mm were welded on pickup trucks; as long as the number of firings was high enough, they could hit the target by sheer chance.

This was the advantage of modern, digitalized warfare; Joe Ga didn't know if regular armies operated this way, but Eric programmed a small software remotely in just one day.

All you had to do was input your own coordinates, and then the type and performance parameters of the mortar; combined with the reconnaissance of unmanned blimps in the sky, you could form an effective mortar strike grid map.

Choose where you wanted to strike, and shooting elements would pop up; even the fire control radar was unnecessary.

Joe Ga wasn't clear on the actual combat effectiveness; there was certainly a margin of error, but artillery was certainly about quantity, and as long as there were enough rounds fired, minor issues could be ignored.

This foolproof software was very suitable for Xiao Hei of P·B.

Seeing Karman, the old man looking frustrated, Joe Ga smiled and said, "You need to get used to this; our way of fighting is more technically sophisticated than anywhere else in Africa, and this technical aspect may even increase in the future.

You stay here and try to adapt as quickly as possible; I'm off to the hangar..."