CHAPTER 103: CHAPTER 103: SHE’LL REMEMBER ME FOR A LIFETIME

In the seventies, Kharun was flooded with opium and became a place rampant with drugs.

The opium here dominated local crop yields, becoming the raw material supply region for the Gilded Crescent drug lords.

From there, centered on the Gilded Crescent, drugs spread in all directions, flooding into Euporia, making it the main sales ground for the Gilded Crescent’s drugs.

Cathan, due to its strict anti-drug policies, successfully kept drugs out beyond The Pamirion Plateau, making it the country with the harshest drug enforcement worldwide.

But as the saying goes, you can never keep thieves away every day; a moment of carelessness and someone risks their life to bring it in.

The reason these drug lords are so rampant is firstly because drugs are always a profitable business, and secondly because they have the support of local warlords.

The reason is frequent wars here, known as the empire’s graveyard, and war is about money.

Warlords need money for warfare, and drugs bring money quickly, so they achieve fast profits through large-scale opium cultivation to maintain wars; they call it supporting wars with drugs.

Seven years ago, Jack Yates, as a special forces soldier, assisted drug enforcement officers in cross-border drug enforcement, arresting the then biggest drug lord of the Gilded Crescent in a small town in Kharun.

After retiring into business, Jack came to Kharun to build a factory, and here he also established the Cathan-Arab Joint School, private hospitals, orphanages, and other public welfare institutions.

The plane landed in Kharun at 9 p.m. local time, and Winston Holloway personally drove to pick them up, accompanied by four bodyguards, all of whom were mercenaries to ensure Jack’s safety.

Winston drove in the front, with an Afrim bodyguard sitting in the passenger seat, another one in the backseat, and two more bodyguards each driving a black jeep to escort them on both sides.

Kyle Sheffield sat in one of the jeep, vigilantly watching the scenery outside the car.

The factory is in the suburbs, and after leaving the airport, the terrain became more open and increasingly desolate.

Winston gripped the steering wheel with both hands, reaching an intersection, about to turn left, when suddenly a military green SUV rushed out from the left, heading directly toward them.

"Damn!" Winston cursed, quickly turning the wheel, pressing the gas pedal to the floor before the SUV hit them, driving forward.

The SUV grazed the Bentley Mulsanne’s tail, breaking the rear light.

A gunshot rang out; the rear window glass cracked; the bullet didn’t come in but still alarmed everyone.

Winston broke out in a cold sweat; he wasn’t worried about being hit by a bullet himself; he was scared Jack might get hurt.

This man wasn’t just his boss; he was Commander Yates’ most beloved grandson. If something happened to him here, his life would be finished.

Winston cautiously spoke, his voice trembling: "Mr. Yates, be careful."

Jack sneered, stretched out his hand: "Gun."

The bodyguard beside him was stunned for a moment, then handed him the gun immediately.

Jack took the handgun, opened the window, stretched his hand out, and fired a shot backward, the bullet hit the SUV’s windshield, penetrating the glass and hitting the person inside.

The SUV’s front end swayed violently a few times, obviously hitting the driver.

Jack closed the window, calmly ordered: "Go directly to the factory."

Winston: "Mr. Yates, it’s not safe to go to the factory now. You should go to the bar first..."

Jack’s voice was cold: "To the factory."

His tone was strong, allowing no refusal.

Winston: "Okay."

-

Kharun Outskirts, another small town.

Inside the abandoned munitions factory, brown military boots stepped on the shoulder of a man with dark skin, then pushed him with the toe, kicking the kneeling man to the ground.

A young man with a delinquent demeanor cursed angrily: "Damn you, I only told you to hit the car, just a symbolic bump or two, didn’t tell you to shoot! You damn well take money to work yet presume to make decisions for me, huh? You’ve got quite the nerve!"

Another young man standing beside them advised: "Young Master Yates, don’t get angry, we’re civilized people, no point in dealing with these unevolved jerks."

The man advising was Colin Grant, also from Northcity, went to Corinthia to study at seventeen, didn’t return after graduation, mixed around abroad, now involved in export trade.

Caleb Yates turned around, sneeringly licked the corner of his mouth: "What a fool, only cares about taking money, can’t handle a small matter properly."

Colin pulled Caleb aside, whispered: "We’re abroad now, Young Master, best to keep things low-profile, don’t offend people outright."

Caleb showed his hostility, pressing his tongue against his cheek heavily.

Colin laughed: "Honestly, you’re quite like your uncle, the Third Master."

Caleb’s eyes darkened, his brow furrowed: "Do you even know what you’re saying? How am I like him?"

Colin awkwardly touched his nose, quickly changed the topic: "Now what? The Third Master probably knows you ordered it."

Caleb: "Let him know, I’m not afraid of him!"

Colin chuckled: "It’s not about fear, the Third Master is an elder, Young Master Yates, you’re the younger, Cathans always respect the elders and love the young."

Caleb kicked the tire, cursing: "I respect his damn self!"

Colin couldn’t help but cough, thought, his damn self is also your ancestor.

Caleb: "I always respected him, but what about him? Can you say what he does is humane?"

Colin hissed: "Just a woman, really not worth it. Since your uncle likes her, let him have her, why make a scene over a woman and strain relations with your uncle."

Caleb kicked Colin’s leg: "Whose side are you on?"

Colin dusted off his leg, laughed: "Obviously yours."

Caleb clenched his molars, resolutely said: "This is not about women anymore; this is about dignity, a man’s dignity!"

Talking about this enraged Caleb, the more he spoke, the angrier he got!

"I pursued a girl for a year, finally won her over, excitedly brought her home, and he cuts in, forcibly snatches her away—what do you call that? Isn’t it robbery and hooliganism?"

Caleb’s words just fell when suddenly a high beam light shone over, a black Phantom quickly drove towards them, followed by a convoy of black jeeps.

The Phantom and ten jeeps parked inside the factory, car doors opened, dozens of suited bodyguards swiftly got out, each holding a machine gun.

A pair of gleaming black leather shoes extended from the Phantom’s rear seat, followed by legs wrapped in black trousers, and then prominent veins on slender hands, finally revealing the man’s true identity as he stepped out entirely.

Colin saw the man getting out of the Phantom, his legs went weak, nearly knelt down and called him father.

Caleb clenched his fists, glaring at Jack with hatred.

Jack casually adjusted his tie, confidently walked toward Caleb, stretched out a hand, a bodyguard handed him a gun.

Caleb’s arrogance subsided a bit, nervously swallowed.

The veined hand gripped the Python revolver, finger on the trigger, the dark barrel pressed against Caleb’s forehead.

Colin quickly advised: "Third, Third Master, it’s all a misunderstanding, please calm down."

Jack’s eyes sharpened, looked at him dismissively: "Get lost."

The icy word "get lost" terrified Colin into silence.

Caleb instead didn’t fear, smirked: "Go ahead and kill me if you’re brave!" After a pause, he added, "If I die, Renee will remember me forever, naturally, also hate you forever."

Colin: "..."

Colin wanted to rush over and shut Caleb’s mouth.

Jack raised an eyebrow, smiled enigmatically: "Oh? Remember you forever? If that’s the case..."

A loud gunshot rang out—