Persian Plateau, secret camp.
The tent of the command center was brightly lit, with only the faint sound of electrical current from the radio and the sound of Song Heping's fingers tapping on the table.
Spread out in front of him were intelligence summaries, and the screen flickered with a map of Northern Illiguo.
Naxin stood opposite him, solemn in expression.
"The online news has already fermented."
Song Heping did not look up, his gaze still fixed on the coordinates of Abu You camp on the map, "The reaction speed of the KPG Committee's bureaucrats is faster and dumber than I imagined..."
He lifted his eyes, looking at Naxin: "Abu You is very dangerous now. Bashir's people will never let go of this God-given opportunity to eliminate dissidents. The so-called investigation is likely just a guise."
Naxin's brow furrowed: "Boss, you mean..."
"They are very likely to make a move on Abu You."
