Different from the tense atmosphere outside, the air inside the room was of another kind of heaviness.
Avanti and Zahedi both knew the end.
One wanted answers.
The other was waiting for a chance to vent.
After a suffocating minute of silence, Zahedi finally put down the teapot, letting out a long and heavy sigh.
That sigh was filled with exhaustion, despair, and a hint of resigned relief.
"Uncle." He raised his head, his gaze piercing straight at Avanti, his voice hoarse, "You've co to arrest , haven't you? For that damned Song Heping?"
Avanti picked up the scalding tea in front of him, but didn't drink it, simply feeling the heat from the cup's wall.
His voice was low and oppressive, like the thunder before a storm: "Zahedi. Tell , why?"
He paused, each word hitting the carpet like a heavy hamr, "This is not a matter of Song Heping, it's about why you betrayed your blood? Betrayed your oath? Betrayed this land, to beco a CIA lapdog? A disgraceful traitor?!"
"Traitor?"
Zahedi, drenched in verbal abuse, showed a mocking smile, but his eyes grew colder.
"Betray who? Betray what? Betray those who treat us like tools while they indulge in luxury, the 'masters'?"
His voice suddenly rose, carrying a long-suppressed fury and despair.
"Uncle! My dear uncle! Open your eyes and see! Look at this country, what has it beco?!"
He leaned forward abruptly, eyes fixed on Avanti, filled with a burning madness and pain.
"You're just a pitiful idealist. Haha! Just a pitiable fool in the dark, used by everyone as a weapon! How many in the whole of Persia share your heart? Those high-ranking friends of yours, shouting 'God is great', shouting 'Down with the Arican imperialists', but all they're thinking of is how to make money! How to climb over others' corpses!"
"Shut up!"
Avanti couldn't help but roar in anger: "That's no excuse for your degradation! Nor is it an excuse for selling out the country!"
"Excuse?"
Zahedi laughed wildly as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world.
"This is my excuse? Then let tell you — why I would rather be a traitor."
He took a deep breath, as if to pour out years of resentnt and truth, speaking as fast as a machine gun, each word piercing:
"The Ney Family! The great Supre Leader! His second son Mo Jie, that 'King without a crown', who controls tens of thousands of espionage lines' ghosts, changing the weather with a flip of his hand! The eldest son Mokhsin, known publicly as 'Crown Prince'! So noble! But do you know what his granddaughter Hafeza is doing? In Florida's sunny beaches, she's spending money extravagantly! One bottle of wine can be worth half a year's food for a lower-town family! And President Ahmadinejad, just recently ousted and imprisoned... Hmph, just a pawn to be discarded from their board!"
"As for the Revolutionary Guard?"
Zahedi continued to sneer: "Look at those generals, impassioned on stage during the day. Look at their companies! They monopolize 57% of the nation's exports! Where's the money? All flowing into their private vaults in Dubai, London, and Switzerland! They hold parties in heavily guarded villas at night, where a bottle of foreign liquor can cost three hundred thousand US Dollars! Three hundred thousand! The frontline soldiers' pay is being withheld, equipnt is outdated like scrap iron, air defense systems are non-existent, why? Because all that money has turned into their mansions and yachts in Europe!"
"The Sunny Family! They hold the largest coffers, the 'Reza Foundation', practically richer than many nations! Which municipal project in any city isn't monopolized by their family's people? Under every brick in every city flows the oil money they steal from the treasury! Mokhsin, that city council chairman, he's the biggest parasite sucking on the city's veins! And their controlled Mahan Air, how many tis have they been exposed smuggling special cargo? Why, for so many years, has the Daishe Bird been able to successfully attack our critical infrastructure? Why are our air defense deploynt maps always mysteriously leaked before air raids? The source is with them!"
His words grew more agitated, his voice growing hoarser from excitent, eyes burning with utter disillusionnt and madness.
Zahedi suddenly pounded the carpet, producing a dull sound.
"These are the people you pledge loyalty to! Uncle! The four great families appear harmonious on the surface, but behind the scenes? They're stabbing each other to the bone! Stabbing each other, using the enemy's knife to kill their own! Internal strife! Endless internal strife! The country's security? The nation's interests? In their eyes, only chips and sacrificial offerings in the power ga! Worthless!"
His words were like poisonous daggers, stabbing at the core of Avanti's lifelong beliefs:
"Look at what things have beco now? Right here in the city's north! Those high officials' daughters, dressed in backless dresses, partying in private pool parties, with armored Range Rovers parked outside! And the south part of the city? Those civilians you swore to protect, housewives lining up for bread that's tripled in price! A plate of plov costs 15 dollars in a restaurant! That's 5% of the average worker's monthly inco! anwhile, the nightclubs in the north cost at least 30 dollars just for an entry fee!"
"Ironic, isn't it? The most ironic part is you so-called idealistic warriors!"
Zahedi's voice was filled with extre mockery, staring into Avanti's eyes as if nailing this absurdity to the depths of his soul.
"And those hypocritical high-ranking colleagues in the Guard, shouting hoarsely on stage about 'eliminating the Daishe Bird', their sons? Holding Eastern European passports, living happily in Europe, using the money sent to buy seaside mansions! Escape routes? They've long paved golden paths of retreat! Only you, uncle, only a fool like you, is still thinking of sinking with this dood land! Is it worth it?!"
"I saw through it long ago!"
In his agitated state, Zahedi stood up, arms waving, an expression of...
"Theocracy? It has long collapsed! War? It's beco nothing more than a filthy loot-sharing ga! But what about those in power? They control USD 95 billion in assets through that damned foundation! If they can be insatiably greedy, why can't I? If they can do it, why can't I?!"
Zahedi's face twisted into a smile that was a mix of madness, pity, and ultimate relief.
"That's not a reason to betray your own country!"
Finally, Avanti couldn't help but stand up too.
"There are bad people in this world, so you beco a bad person too? You see others betraying the country, so you follow them? Dogs eat shit, why don't you? Because you're human! Understand? Such a simple reason, don't you get it?! With all those grand reasons laid out, what are you trying to prove? What are you trying to confirm? Are you trying to tell that betrayal is justified? Treason is honorable?!"
"How did your parents die? Don't you know in your heart?! Co on! I'll take you to their grave right now, and in front of their tombstone, say those words so confidently and forcefully again! Tell them, you're a traitor! A defector! A lapdog! Let's see if your voice is still that loud! Stop blaming your selfishness, greed, cowardice, and ugliness on the environnt, using those vile people's ugliness as a flag to cover your own incompetence, lewdness, and degradation. Because if a scoundrel can be a traitor, you can be one too? If a scoundrel can be greedy, you can be greedy too?! Scoundrels get shot too, why don't you go die?!"
Avanti's words were like a cold shower, dousing Zahedi completely.
He stood there dumbfounded, like a wooden sculpture, without any reaction or movent, his expression changed from previous mad anger to shock.
He stared intently at Avanti's pupils, which contracted sharply from pain.
A mont later, suddenly tears welled up.
"Uncle, I'm not you... not everyone is you... you can't expect everyone to be like you..."
The mont the last word fell, Zahedi's face froze with a mad and desperate expression.
His right hand shot like lightning towards the embroidered cushion beside him—beneath which lay a Glock 26 loaded long ago!
"No—!"
Avanti's body instinctively lunged forward to stop him, a terrified scream erupted from his throat!
Outside the door, hearing Avanti's cry, Kafvan and his n burst in instantly after breaking down the door.
But it was too late.
Zahedi's actions were utterly decisive, without a hint of hesitation.
The cold gun barrel sliced a path of death under the dim yellow light, pressing accurately against his own right temple.
His gaze finally froze on Avanti's face, twisted in utter shock and pain, and his lips curled into a strange and mournful smile, as if relieved.
Bang—!
The gunshot exploded!
In the enclosed and silent living room, the sound was deafening.
Scalding hot blood and gray-white brain matter spurted violently from the horrifying rift that suddenly appeared on the right side of Zahedi's head.
A few scorching crimson drops splattered instantly onto Avanti's face, in terrifying proximity.
Zahedi's body, emptied of all bones, suddenly tilted to the right, crashing heavily onto the carpet with a dull thud.
Blood flowed like a creek, constantly pouring from his shattered temple and mouth and nose, quickly pooling into a small, ever-expanding puddle on the carpet.
Ti seed to completely freeze at that mont.
The overpowering stench of blood and the acrid sll of gunpowder instantly filled the entire space, overwhelming the lingering scents of incense and tea.
"General!!!"
Outside, Kafvan rushed in, shielding Avanti.
Song Heping stood by the door, glancing inside.
He saw Zahedi's corpse.
Zahedi committed suicide.
Maybe suicide was better.
It was the best end for a traitor.
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