Mercenaries, I Will Be King Chapter 1532 - 1248: Reaching a New Balance

The air inside the safehouse was as heavy as a lead block.

Outside the window, the barren Gobi landscape of Northern Illiguo stead and distorted under the scorching midday sun, mirroring the complex and unpredictable negotiations unfolding within, which concerned the fate of the future.

In his signature suave tone, Winslow uttered the keyword that Song Heping's team had fought hard for:

"Based on the fruitful history of our past cooperation and our shared expectations for future mutual benefits, Washington is willing to offer an unofficial but practically binding guarantee within specific circles...granting 'limited immunity' to you, Mr. Song, and your confird core mbers."

He paused, his sharp gaze piercing through his glasses, scanning Song Heping's impassive face as if trying to catch a glimpse of excitent or agitation.

After all, in Winslow's view, Song Heping had previously secured personal immunity, removed from the KB mber list, yet his core mbers remained on the US military and intelligence agency's blacklist.

This ti, the United States granted them all immunity.

This was a gift.

They should be grateful.

However, he was disappointed.

Song Heping showed no reaction, as if these were rightfully theirs, like watching a child throwing a tantrum, only to end up feeling llow, brushing off their nose and comforting themselves with the words — I won't hold this against you!

Thus, he had to further emphasize the preciousness and fragility of this "goodwill":

"This ans that as long as your actions do not proactively challenge the core national interests of the United States, certain... hmm... past unpleasant incidents, including previous attacks on our Delta Squad, will not fall within the scope of official pursuit. This is a goodwill gesture based on trust. I hope you can fully appreciate its weight."

"'Limited immunity'..."

Song Heping silently repeated those five words to himself.

Indeed, it was an amulet he fiercely fought for, for himself and his comrades who had struggled through blood and fire.

But Song Heping also knew that the Aricans' promise was as fragile as a layer of window paper, unofficial, not legally binding internationally, and could vanish due to changes in the White House administration or subtle political shifts.

Yet, for now, it was crucial.

At least he and his brothers could freely move around any corner of the world without worrying about being hunted or captured.

"Thank you." He lifted his eyes, calmly eting Winslow's gaze, and said, "I sense the 'goodwill' your side is expressing."

His words were concise; there was no tearful gratitude, nor any dissatisfaction, just a statent of fact.

This calmness made Colonel Kote, standing nearby, slightly frown.

This forr military personnel was more accustod to seeing explicit gratitude or fear from those being aided.

The next few hours were the real showdown.

Every clause, every term, underwent repeated tug-of-war, intense debates, subtle threats, and reluctant compromises.

Interests were cut open like a cake piece by piece, mutual deterrence slithered like a lurking poison snake beneath the table, and the fragile trust was the thin thread connecting it all, threatening to snap at any mont.

When the sun gradually set outside and dusk arrived, a secret agreent built on complex calculations and precarious balance was finally settled.

There were no champagne celebrations, no handshaking scenes of joy.

Only a subtle sound of paper against the table as Jiang Feng slid the printed agreent in front of both parties.

Song Heping and Winslow each picked up a pen and signed their nas at the end of the docunt.

In the end, Winslow and Kote left the safehouse under the escort of a group of stern-faced bodyguards.

It was already dark outside, and the moon hung high, casting white moonlight everywhere.

Before boarding the helicopter, Kote couldn't help but glance back at the iron door of Song Heping's command post slowly closing.

He lowered his voice and spoke to Winslow, who was adjusting his tie:

"We've just signed an agreent with our own hands, Winslow. It may have grown a tiger that we might not fully control in the future. And I have a feeling this tiger knows exactly where our weaknesses lie."

Winslow finally adjusted his tie to its most perfect position, his face a picture of procedural coldness.

He glanced at Kote, his tone flat yet imbued with undisputable authority:

"No, Colonel. You're wrong. We are not breeding uncontrollable beasts. We are rely based on the harsh reality, choosing the beast that currently seems most capable of guarding this chaotic jungle for us and apparently understands how to operate within the cage rules, the most cost-effective one. Rember, as long as the chains of economics, military balance, and political reins remain firmly in our hands, the beast's fangs can tear apart other troubles for us. The key lies in whether we continue to keep the reins tightly held."

The iron door closed firmly behind them, isolating two worlds.

Inside the safehouse, Jiang Feng carefully stored away the signed copy of the agreent, walked to the window, and spoke in a worried tone to Song Heping, who was standing there gazing at the distant departing helicopter:

"Old squad leader, they will not truly be ready to accept. Promises are just promises, the ans of checks and balances will not be any less. Especially the upcoming 'Thunder Defense,' I've looked into their background, most of the core mbers are retired US Special Forces with a tough style and complex background, I fear they co with ill intent."