While Kim Muhyuk was deep in discussion with Ahmad about Afghanistan’s future, Xavier, the head of Valletche, was receiving a report in his office.
“Hm...”
He set down the papers in his hand and asked his butler,
“So the ambush succeeded, but they didn’t kill Kim Muhyuk?”
“A few of the rcenaries escorting him were killed, but the Taliban suffered far heavier losses. Most of them died; a few managed to flee. One was captured by U.S. forces.”
“Ah, I see. It seems I overestimated the Taliban.”
Xavier’s voice carried its usual detached calm, but the butler, bowing low, was drenched in cold sweat.
“Have all our connections been severed?”
“Yes. No matter how deep the investigation, no one will be able to trace it back to you, sir. Any trail will lead only to a ghost that doesn’t exist.”
Xavier nodded, then rose and opened the window.
A cool breeze swept through the office, brushing past him.
He smiled faintly as he looked out over the neatly tended garden beyond the glass.
Behind him, the butler remained with his head lowered, awaiting orders.
After a long silence, Xavier turned around.
“No movent from Lorenzo?”
“None, sir. He has made no attempt to contact Kim Muhyuk. He’s simply continuing the tasks the family assigned to him, as always.”
“Strange. He clearly must have spoken with Kim Muhyuk about sothing, yet he won’t take the bait no matter how many hooks I cast...”
He had thrown out several lures so far, but Lorenzo hadn’t bitten once.
Perhaps he had realized they were traps—or perhaps there was another boat he was already on.
Or maybe it was all just Xavier’s own suspicion.
But once suspicion coiled around him, it didn’t easily unwind.
He had circumstantial evidence but no proof. And even he couldn’t eliminate Lorenzo without cause.
Uncomfortable with Lorenzo's independence, Xavier had begun searching for soone else to succeed as head of the family.
Lorenzo's younger brother was greedy but incompetent, while his son seed uninterested in the position altogether.
He had even considered manipulating the brother to incite internal strife—but Lorenzo's grip on power was too firm.
“None of it sits well with .”
“My apologies, sir.”
“Haha, there’s nothing for you to apologize for. I know how much you’ve struggled. Perhaps it’s all just God’s will.”
Offering his usual gentle tone, Xavier stepped closer to the butler and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“But I have no use for soone who keeps failing . Even if that soone has served by my side for decades.”
His voice stayed calm, but the hand on the butler’s shoulder tightened slowly until the man’s body trembled.
“Find out what that lion of a man, Massoud, and Kim Muhyuk are plotting together.”
With that, Xavier brushed past him and left the office.
* * *
After that, Kim Muhyuk and Ahmad continued their conversation for quite so ti.
Then, suddenly, the door opened, and three children—a boy and two girls—ran inside.
Ahmad greeted them with a warm smile as they rushed to him.
“These are my children.”
The kids bowed politely to . Courteous, yes—but I couldn’t understand a word they said.
I raised a hand in greeting, then glanced toward the only boy.
He was entering his teens—but I knew who he was.
Ahmad’s son, who would one day inherit his na—Ahmad Massoud—and lead the resistance when the Taliban reclaid Afghanistan.
Noticing my gaze, Ahmad asked,
“Do you like my son?”
I smiled.
“He takes after you, General.”
“Ha! That’s good to hear.”
Ahmad laughed heartily at the complint, his eyes soft with unmistakable affection as he looked at his children.
“My kids have suffered a lot because of . They’ve wandered from country to country. I’ve been a poor father to them.”
I said nothing.
To be born the child of a rebel commander—there was no fra of reference for that in my world.
“So I’m always sorry.”
Ahmad gently ruffled his son’s hair.
The boy bead up at him, clearly delighted by the gesture. Despite everything, he was a devoted son.
“I don’t want to leave my children a country that slls of blood. I have to break this chain of evil in my lifeti.”
His voice was steady and resolute.
“If that ans walking through hell, I’ll do it. Even if Allah abandons , I’ll walk that path.”
His conviction was unmistakable. I smiled faintly.
“I hope your country becos the one you dream of.”
“Thank you.”
Ahmad dismissed his children. When the door closed, I spoke again.
“General, have you thought about sending your son abroad to study? It’s still difficult to get a proper education here, isn’t it?”
“Abroad?”
“Yes. It would be best if he could receive a proper education in Europe.”
Ahmad frowned slightly.
“To rebuild and strengthen a nation, you need talented people. Without talent, a country is left hollow—its future bleak.”
He still didn’t look convinced, so I continued.
“If you’re worried about his safety, Black Bear can provide protection. You’ve already seen their capability firsthand. England or Switzerland would be suitable choices. What do you think?”
“I’ll think about it.”
His voice was cautious, but I didn’t push further.
Eventually, he would send his son abroad—and entrust the boy’s safety to us.
To be blunt, that ant his son would be a hostage of sorts. With the boy in Black Bear’s hands, Ahmad would never dare break our agreent.
Ahmad checked his watch and rose.
“It’s gotten late. I must go. Discuss the details with Zia.”
After one final handshake, Ahmad left the room.
Zia Massoud watched his brother go, then turned to with a smile.
“It seems my brother likes you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have spent so much ti with you.”
The Lion of Panjshir liked , huh? I shrugged and replied with exaggerated humor.
“I’m honored. Well, it’s good for both of us, so I suppose that’s why he made ti.”
“Hmm... Still, half of the resources seems a bit excessive. Not that I can object, since he decided it himself.”
I gave a brief nod and let the smile fade from my face.
“I’m taking on a risk, too. If you think it’s too much, you’re free to find another partner.”
My tone left no room for argunt. Zia quickly waved his hands, flustered.
“No, no. I was only lanting, not objecting. Let’s move on to the specifics.”
With that, we got down to details, fine-tuning the terms.
He was more reasonable than I’d expected. No wonder Ahmad trusted him so deeply.
“Then I’ll trust Charlie to handle it,” he said at last.
When we finished, we shook hands at the safe house entrance and went our separate ways.
In the car, I checked my watch. It was getting late, but I couldn’t return to the hotel just yet.
“Where to, sir?”
“To the Black Bear base.”
“Yes, Boss.”
The car carrying and Manager Ma drove across Kabul toward the Black Bear compound.
By the ti we arrived, night had fallen completely, and the city lay swallowed in darkness.
The power grid clearly hadn’t been restored—almost no lights were visible.
If the capital looked like this, the other cities would be worse.
Before long, we reached the Black Bear base inside Kabul.
They had pitched tents around the skeletal remains of ruined buildings.
But thanks to their own generators, the compound shone brightly amid the dark surroundings.
As we arrived, rcenaries moved the barricades blocking the road.
The car rolled past the checkpoint and headed toward the center of the base, where one building still stood intact.
When I stepped out, a man approached.
“Good to see you. Yuri Zhirkov.”
“Nice to et you. Where’s the captive?”
“Follow , Boss.”
I followed Zhirkov into the building.
“Learn anything?” I asked as we walked. I wasn’t expecting much.
“It was the Taliban.”
“Nothing else?”
“He’s not a key figure. Says he only followed orders from above.”
As expected. If he were important, soone would’ve tried to rescue or silence him by now.
Zhirkov and I descended to the basent.
There, a large room awaited. Inside were two rcenaries—and one man slumped like a corpse.
It was a grueso sight. I frowned, while Zhirkov, unfazed, questioned his n.
“Anything?”
“Nothing. He keeps repeating the sa thing.”
Zhirkov nodded slightly, then looked to for instructions.
“Zhirkov, stay. I’ll speak with him myself.”
Zhirkov dismissed the others and shut the door.
I walked to the broken man and sat down in front of him. Manager Ma brought over a chair, which I took.
The captive’s fingernails and toenails were all torn out—so of them completely gone.
“Did you use drugs?”
“Yes.”
“Manager Ma, let’s see his face.”
At my command, Ma lifted the man’s head. His beard was caked with dried blood, his nose crushed, his eyes dull and unfocused.
He was muttering sothing under his breath. I leaned closer to catch the words.
“Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar...”
I sighed, brow furrowed.
I would never understand these zealots—clinging to their god even as they died.
Even as we continued the interrogation through Zhirkov, the man was too far gone to answer coherently.
I soon lost interest and stood.
“There’s nothing more to learn. Take care of it.”
When I left the room, the rcenaries from earlier were waiting outside.
Zhirkov relayed my order, and they went back in.
As we walked down the corridor together, a single gunshot rang out behind us.
The next day.
A visitor ca to see at the hotel—an Arican.
“Good to et you. Timothy Chandler.”
He was CIA.
“I heard you were attacked by the Taliban.”
“That’s right. Does the U.S. know anything?”
Chandler shook his head.
“Nothing yet.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because of your eting with Ahmad yesterday.”
“...”
I said °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° nothing, watching him instead.
“Ahmad is one of our primary surveillance targets.”
“You’re monitoring a national leader... You realize that’s an act of arrogance, don’t you?”
Chandler shrugged indifferently.
“Whether he becos a leader or not is still under debate in Washington. Nothing’s decided.”
So the U.S. was ready to remove Ahmad at any ti.
It was an audacious thing to say—but the kind of thing Arica could easily do. I nodded calmly.
“So, what do you want to tell ?”
“We can’t accept soone else taking the reward for the blood we’ve shed.”
“Can’t accept it?”
Judging from his ntion of Washington, this man wasn’t just a field agent—he was a ssenger from higher up.
Still, his arrogance grated on .
“Yes. Half of Afghanistan’s resources? Why should you claim the price of our sacrifice?”
“I’m investing in Afghanistan and receiving the returns. If you’re so envious, tell your Arican businessn to invest in a war zone themselves.”
“Mr. Kim Muhyuk!”
Chandler snarled, baring his teeth like a rabid dog.
I smirked faintly at him. If they were watching , I might as well use it.
“So what you’re saying is—Arica invaded Afghanistan for profit?”
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