Zhao Ziyang, who narrowly escaped death, climbed into the helicopter and sat in the cabin, breathing heavily, staring at the person who rescued him.

Count, it was the Count who rescued him.

Seeing the count, Zhao Ziyang didn't react at all, although he always regarded the count as the person who betrayed them. But he couldn't say anything at this moment. The best way was to wait for the count to speak and see what he could say.

"You must think that I am the one who betrayed you, right?" The Earl spoke and said this question calmly.

"That's right." Zhao Ziyang didn't deny it. There was no need to hide in front of such a person.

They all have eagle-like eyes, years of experience and understanding of human nature, and their thoughts are always very clear.

"It's a pity that I'm not." The count rubbed his face, looked out of the cabin with extremely lonely eyes and murmured: "Phillips is dead. Maybe I am the only one left alive in our former OP combat team."

"The leader is dead?" Zhao Ziyang looked shocked. He thought that Black Eagle would be controlled, but he never thought that Black Eagle would die so soon.

Under normal circumstances, a senior mercenary leader like Black Hawk has a lot of value, and the US military is not willing to kill him. But now the count says that the leader is dead. There is no need for the count to lie, and there is no need to use this method.

What does a lie mean?

All kinds of emotions suddenly rose in Zhao Ziyang's heart. He thought of the Black Eagle who played parkour, the Black Eagle who commanded the battle, the approachable Black Eagle...

"Evidence!" Zhao Ziyang's voice was trembling, and even he himself was not aware of it.

A stack of photos was placed in front of Zhao Ziyang, and the photo showed Black Eagle's body.

Judging from the photos, Black Eagle was shot between the eyebrows by a bullet and died. His hands were tied behind his back, and his ten fingers were bloody. His body was covered with scars from whippings. It was obvious that he had suffered extremely cruel torture before his death.

Severe punishment.

These photos captured the death of the black hawk from all angles, and were done deliberately.

"All the photos are real. This can be concluded through technical appraisal. You can do it." The count lit up a cigarette, took a deep drag and continued to Zhao Ziyang: "This was done by an old comrade inside.

Yes, alas..."

Black Hawk is dead, Lurker is finished...

Zhao Ziyang, who was holding a stack of photos, was filled with this thought. Indeed, the Lurker without the Black Hawk would really be finished and would be disbanded in an instant. From now on, there would no longer be the mercenary name Lurker, and they would

Being thrown into a forgotten corner.

Slowly holding the photo in his arms, Zhao Ziyang fell into silence. He took a cigarette from the count's hand and lit it, choking his lungs hard with the spicy smoke to make himself feel better.

"How can I believe what you say?" Zhao Ziyang, holding his head in his hands, asked the earl in a low voice, his heart full of pain.

Seeing the photo of Black Eagle's body, Zhao Ziyang realized that he was not just living among his former comrades, he was also living in the present, among the lunatic lurkers.

Upon hearing Zhao Ziyang's question, the count gently unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a gunshot wound the size of a bowl on his chest and a penetrating gunshot wound in his abdomen.

"I took two bullets for Phillips." The Earl continued slowly: "Phillips took three bullets for me. His face was a cover for me before I was hit by a shotgun. For this reason, he always followed me.

He was joking about marrying his sister to him, hahaha..."

Dry laughter came from the earl's throat, and the laughter was full of pain and memories. Along with the dry laughter, the earl's eyes turned red, and the originally bright eyes became a little cloudy, with tears rolling inside.

"Huh..." The count rubbed his cheeks hard to dry his eyes, took out a cigarette again and lit it, turned to Zhao Ziyang and asked: "Do you believe it?"

"letter!"

There is nothing to believe. Although there is no conclusive evidence, Zhao Ziyang knows that the count has no reason to attack Black Hawk. Being able to block each other's bullets on the battlefield and blocking each other's bullets on the battlefield are two completely different concepts. Such comrades will never

Will betray the other party, they would rather die themselves than let the other party die.

Zhao Ziyang felt this deeply, so he believed it.

"I cannot avenge Phillips. The Gurkha mercenaries I lead are all my people. I have to be responsible for them. My personal grudges cannot make them sacrifice their lives."

What the count said is correct. His Gurkha mercenary group is all from the same ethnic group. He brought people from his tribe out to beg for food. He has to be responsible for these tribesmen and the parents, wives and children of these soldiers.

, so it is impossible for him to let these soldiers avenge him.

It is the Count's responsibility to make money with the Gurkha mercenaries and return alive, and avenging Phillips is his personal unshirkable responsibility. However, it was the American military that killed Black Hawk, so the Count could do nothing.

"I will avenge the leader." Zhao Ziyang narrowed his eyes. He had too many debts to weigh him down. He had lived for hatred all his life.

"This is also the reason why I came to you." The count's eyes suddenly burst out with a cold-blooded animal viciousness, and he said in a cold tone: "The U.S. government owes our OP brother too much blood debt."

Zhao Ziyang understood after hearing this. In fact, the Earl and Black Hawk were the same. They both went to two extremes after the disappearance of the OP special operations team: Black Hawk chose to forget the past and never serve any powerful country; the Earl

He chose to enter the mercenary world and continue to serve various countries, including the United States, but he is an obedient snake and will pounce on him and bite him severely whenever he has the opportunity.

Perhaps this was the purpose of the earl's advice to Black Hawk. He wanted Black Hawk to choose the same method as him, to explode under restraint.

"What's your purpose of saving me?" Zhao Ziyang asked, staring into the earl's sinister eyes.

"I want to save you so that you can live!" The earl said to Zhao Ziyang without any hidden secrets: "I want you to take the Lurkers and develop the Lurkers into the most powerful mercenary group in the world. I will do my best.

I will help you, but you must agree to one condition."

"Hahahaha..." Zhao Ziyang laughed loudly, shook his head disdainfully and said to the earl: "I, Zhao Ziyang, do not make transactions in exchange for conditions. Without your help, I can stand up again with the lurkers!"

Confident, arrogant, and powerful, this is the aura that Zhao Ziyang exudes at this moment.

Just when he saw Black Eagle's death, Zhao Ziyang had already thought about this. The lurkers cannot be finished, and the lurkers will continue. This is what the leader wants to see.

A strange color flashed in the earl's eyes, and he stared at Zhao Ziyang for a long time.

"I finally understand why that guy Phillips likes you so much. You and General Dragoon are the same person."

"Oh, General Dragon Rider?" Zhao Ziyang frowned when he heard the name.

"General Dragoon, General Dragoon..." A smile appeared on the earl's face, and he recalled: "General Dragoon is the captain of our OP, a Chinese, he is the world's top special forces, no one can surpass...

"

Chinese?! The captain of the most powerful OP combat team in the world is actually Chinese?

Almost as soon as the earl's words came out, Zhao Ziyang knew why Black Eagle was so kind to him and why the earl showed a naughty look when he saw him. It turned out that their former captain was a Chinese, a special forces soldier codenamed Dragoon General.

The helicopter landed in a large courtyard in the black town. Gurkha mercenaries were standing guard at the gate of the courtyard and around it.

These Gurkha mercenaries are not tall, but their thin faces all exude a strong aura of strength. The most conspicuous thing is the Nepalese machete on their backs, which is the heritage of the Gurkhas.

, is also one of the signs that they have become.

The Nepali scimitar is a medium-length attack weapon and the national sword of Nepal. In ancient times, only warriors who achieved military exploits could be rewarded with their names engraved on them. This custom has been passed down so long that it has become a spirit. In

When fighting with the enemy, the Gurkha warriors only need to draw their machetes, and they will immediately possess unparalleled courage and stormy speed and power.

The entire length is 52 centimeters and the handle is 15 centimeters long. It is entirely handmade. An ordinary scimitar would take four skilled craftsmen a whole day to make.

Its blade has a rough shape and is a super clean killing weapon in battle. It can easily cut off a person's thigh.

After glancing at the Gurkha mercenary's scimitar for a few times, Zhao Ziyang followed the count and walked into the house.

"Special Forces, actually when Phillips came to me for help that day, I asked all the mercenaries to come to this black town to cooperate with you in the battle." The count patted the sofa casually, asked Zhao Ziyang to sit down, and brought out a cup.

Qing Shui was handed to Zhao Ziyang.

Zhao Ziyang had no doubts about this. He knew how fast the Gurkha mercenaries were. As long as an order was issued, it would be executed immediately without any compromise. At this moment, he had a doubt in his mind, why was the earl who was with Black Eagle

Nothing will happen.

"Were you with the group leader at that time?" Zhao Ziyang drank all the water in one gulp and wiped his mouth and asked the count.

The count who was asked this question immediately understood the meaning of Zhao Ziyang's question.

"I work for the U.S. military, and Phillips works against the U.S. government." The count said this briefly and did not continue.

Zhao Ziyang had already heard what the count wanted to express from his words, and he had deep sympathy for the count.

Eating an ignoble existence is something that few people know about behind the glorious Earl. He is just like a dog in the United States, struggling to survive, even if his closest comrades are captured and killed in front of him, he is indifferent.

But Zhao Ziyang knew that this was just an appearance. If the Count was an American dog, he would definitely be a seemingly docile mad dog. He usually didn't bite, but at critical moments he would open his bloody mouth and bite his owner.

The count lived a very tiring life, so tiring that he didn't even know it.

"You go to Africa." The Count made his suggestion.

Most countries in Africa are full of wars all year round, where mercenaries live and breed. Even the United States cannot extend its tentacles deep into Africa and can only use mercenaries to complete a series of their purposes.

Africa will become the best stage for lurkers. Everything is lacking there, except for excellent soldiers. As long as you have money, there will be countless black soldiers who will sacrifice their lives for you.

Zhao Ziyang nodded, he also felt that Africa was an excellent place to go.

"Oh, by the way." The count said to Zhao Ziyang as if he had remembered something: "The defender mercenaries have a base in the black town, I think you are more interested."

Zhao Ziyang's eyes lit up when he heard this. He stood up from the sofa and asked in a deep voice: "Where are you?"

"Black Town Satellite Receiver." The Earl tapped the table lightly and continued to Zhao Ziyang: "Do you think it is accidental that the defenders suddenly appear behind you? No, they have high-definition satellite pictures provided by the US military. You are in the position.

Every move is under their control."

"Also, all other members of your lurkers were ambushed by the defenders, including your underground military base on the Gold Coast."

"I need weapons." Zhao Ziyang said to the count neatly, then pointed to a Nepali scimitar hanging on the wall and said: "I want it!"

This Nepali scimitar is completely black and does not reflect light even if it is placed under the sun. You can tell at a glance that it is absolutely extraordinary.

The count took off the Nepalese scimitar, wiped it gently with extreme care, and handed it to Zhao Ziyang with a sigh.

"Take it, this Nepalese army knife may only be used by you Chinese people."

After holding the saber, a bone-chilling coldness spread from the palm of his hand to every pore of his body. Along with the coldness came a bloodthirsty killing aura, which gave Zhao Ziyang a monstrous fighting spirit.

The hilt of the saber is engraved with a dragon character with flying phoenixes, which is domineering and arrogant.

"Is it okay if I want to resmelt it?" Zhao Ziyang stared at the saber.

"No problem." The count smiled slightly and said to him: "It doesn't matter what shape the knife takes. What matters is the person who uses it."
Chapter completed!