Remaining silently and amusedly in the background, Wang Hu and Li Chengzhi had no immediate intention of stepping forward as mediators.
Whether driven by anticipation for a dramatic spectacle or curiosity about a beginning that diverged from their memories, both men exercised considerable patience.
As they watched Mu engage in a heated verbal exchange with the opposing leader, Wang Hu cheerfully nudged Li Chengzhi beside him and asked,
"Noticed anything?"
Testing me?
Li Chengzhi shot a glance at Wang Hu, thinking to himself, Did I study international relations all those years for nothing?
"He's fighting for dominance—the right to sit at the table and share the spoils after victory," he replied.
"Unlike the scenario you described from your memories, where they jointly schemed against Mr. Baltfeld, many matters now have to be openly contested."
Indeed, what Ashman, the leader of the North African Liberation Front, was doing mirrored the actions of a certain nation when it entered the European theater during the First World War of the old era.
Back then, that nation was far from the dominant power it would later become. Although its industrial capacity served as a lifeline for one faction during the First World War, its international standing and military reputation were looked down upon by everyone on the European battlefield.
When it actually dispatched troops to the European theater and participated in the war, its forces were initially treated as auxiliary troops.
Without independent command authority, what else could they be considered but auxiliaries?
And if they were seen as subordinates without autonomy, what right did they have to sit at the table with their so-called masters and share the fruits of ultimate victory?
"He's quite a character," Wang Hu remarked softly, expressing agreement with Li Chengzhi's analysis.
In the original timeline, Ashman might have believed that by aiding the Archangel at a critical moment and helping eliminate several of Baltfeld's GOUFs, he had earned the ship's gratitude.
Coupled with the fact that the Archangel's most powerful backer, Halberton of the Eighth Fleet, had already perished, Ashman likely saw the Archangel as nothing more than a fleeing stray dog.
Using it to attack the Desert Tiger, Baltfeld, was the extent of its value.
Success would be a bonus; failure would cost him nothing.
After all, the Archangel wasn't his asset, and it was uncertain whether he even registered in the eyes of the major players.
Under those circumstances, did formal recognition really matter?
But now, things were different. The Archangel had forged its own formidable reputation, its backer was still alive, and the East Asian Qilin was also aboard the ship!
Suddenly, the Archangel's status was incomparable to before. If Ashman could secure his position as an equal partner before joining forces—
To draw an analogy: the difference between being an equal, forward-leading partner and merely serving as a labor supplier for the leading party was obvious to anyone.
Perhaps on the world stage, in the eyes of the truly powerful, Ashman was still a laughingstock.
But at the very least, his name and presence had now caught the attention of those major players, hadn't they?
Moreover, setting aside the world stage, the real action was happening right here in this remote corner of North Africa—with Ashman leading the Desert Dawn.
Wasn't this a case of "the scorpion's venom being uniquely potent"?
Just look at the other resistance groups in the area, all boasting grand names but amounting to little in reality.
Which of you could claim such an identity? Who wouldn't view me with heightened respect?
After all, while the name "Desert Dawn" sounded intimidating, the group itself was just a handful of individuals—hardly a formidable force.
Compared to the countless similar organizations around, it really didn't stand out!
Cagalli was a major financial backer, but did other resistance groups capable of rallying troops lack their own sponsors?
We mustn't mistakenly assume, just because in the original timeline Balthfeld—the man who crushed the Eurasian Federation's main heavy ground forces—repeatedly attacked Ashman's group, that this organization was a serious threat to the Desert Tiger.
In truth, had this group not gotten entangled with the Archangel, it's doubtful whether Balthfeld would have even given them a second glance.
PLANT's renowned commanders weren't so plentiful, and ZAFT Forces headquarters had no need to use a sledgehammer to crack a nut.
Looking back at the Desert Dawn in the original timeline, it was merely a ragtag guerrilla outfit.
"Wang Hu, I think we should stop them from arguing further, or they might really come to blows."
After observing the heated, spit-flying dispute for a while longer, Li Chengzhi furrowed his brow.
"I think we've been mistaken. Ashman is trying to seize the initiative to establish himself as the Archangel's independent partner."
"But Murrue and Mu don't seem to have considered this at all. Lacking grassroots perspective, they simplistically believe..."
"...that the other party is unwilling to cooperate with the Archangel due to past grievances?"
"Possibly." Wang Hu listened intently for another moment to the dialogue between Mu and Ashman, which was like a chicken talking to a duck.
Both men inwardly regarded the Desert Tiger Balthfeld as their primary enemy and wanted to join forces to eliminate him.
Yet despite sharing this common goal, they still couldn't reach an agreement—a truly peculiar situation.
Mu was certainly intelligent. Born into a wealthy family and educated among elites since childhood, he possessed keen insight into many matters.
But perhaps because of Ashman's earlier remark—"The Atlantic Federation takes this land's resources yet begrudges even a piece of bread"—Mu, influenced by his own background, had blindly categorized Ashman as an extremist nationalist hostile to the Atlantic Federation.
Thus, he was trying every means to change Ashman's perspective, hoping to create a foundation for cooperation.
Otherwise, given their inherently conflicting stances—with Mu's origins naturally aligning against the people Ashman claimed to represent—Mu couldn't bring himself to trust Ashman with his back turned.
As for Ashman, his words were mostly rhetoric—using them as stepping stones and bargaining chips to negotiate future arrangements.
But Mu kept pressing him, making it impossible for Ashman to propose cooperation himself. If he did, his followers would question: "Well, leader, you were just condemning them, and now you suggest collaboration? How are you any different from a dog barking with a bone in its mouth?"
"Leader Ashman and Mu, both of you pause for a moment and listen to what I have to say."
Wang Hu, who had roughly guessed what was happening, finally managed to squeeze through the crowd and stepped forward.
"Just as Leader Ashman mentioned earlier, the Atlantic Federation has indeed had inherent flaws in their methods since ancient times."
First affirming Ashman's statement, Wang Hu stopped Mu from attempting to argue.
Then, turning to Ashman, whose expression had noticeably softened, Wang Hu glanced at the people behind him and continued.
"But in our East Asian Alliance, there is a saying: to defeat a common enemy, unite all those who can be united."
"For this purpose, we can set aside past disputes. Once that enemy is defeated, we can discuss anything."
"Wang Hu." Mu felt that Wang Hu's argument was utterly useless. If it were effective, why would Ashman stubbornly cling to the past?
"Captain Wang Hu?" To Mu's surprise, Ashman, who had seemed ready to argue right and wrong with him moments ago, now faced Wang Hu with a completely different attitude.
He wore a smile and spoke in a gentle tone, "Truly worthy of being the Qilin of East Asia. Compared to the Atlantic Federation over there, the people of the East Asian Alliance can truly be called friends of those living on this land."
"Huh?" Murrue and the others let out puzzled exclamations at Ashman's 180-degree change in attitude.
You argued with us until you were red in the face, yet the moment Wang Hu arrives, you act like this?
The Atlantic Federation is also a major nation no less significant than the East Asian Alliance. How can you treat them differently?
However, what they didn't know was that while both were major nations, their approaches to dealing with smaller countries differed.
In the old history, only certain major nations would classify their citizens into first, second, and third classes.
A major nation that behaved in such a manner was inherently difficult to trust or hold in high regard.
Oh, and let's not forget those who preach humanitarianism but, when faced with issues, use their status to repeatedly take sides and deny true humanitarianism.
Is it any wonder their credibility has collapsed?
"Before the war, many East Asian merchants came here to invest, and your East Asian officials provided us with extensive assistance."
As he spoke, Ashman waved his hand behind him, signaling his subordinates to lower their guns.
In truth, even without Ashman's signal, many of his subordinates had already voluntarily holstered their weapons upon seeing Wang Hu's East Asian face.
"Perhaps because we've also been caught in the rain, we understand the pain of getting wet."
Wang Hu smiled and stepped forward, proactively extending his hand.
"Regarding Balthfeld, I believe we can engage in equal cooperation."
"Hahaha." Upon hearing this, Ashman let out a hearty laugh.
Glancing at the Atlantic Federation personnel behind Wang Hu, Ashman genuinely felt that the character of East Asians lived up to their reputation.
They were far better than those who wanted to act unscrupulously while maintaining a facade of righteousness.
Moreover, compared to the Atlantic Federation Army, whose credibility was practically negative, the East Asian Army's reputation in the desert was widely praised.
"Welcome, the most honored guest in the desert."
Having obtained what he wanted, Ashman directly performed the desert's ritual for welcoming the most distinguished guests.
He then wanted to invite Wang Hu to his base as a guest, hoping to further finalize the details of their cooperation during the welcoming banquet.
"Hey, hey, isn't this a bit too preferential?" Mu felt his earlier argumentative behavior was rather foolish, and he wondered why Wang Hu hadn't stepped forward sooner.
Was it really that amusing to hide behind the crowd and watch the spectacle?
Just as the atmosphere seemed to be heading toward a harmonious and mutually satisfying conclusion, the blond girl in a vest, who had been lingering at the back, suddenly rushed forward.
"Why are you on the Archangel? Are you the Qilin of East Asia?"
Initially, she had known there was a so-called East Asian Qilin on the Archangel, but Cagalli, who had run away from home, didn't know who this Qilin was.
Similar to the original timeline where Cagalli first saw Kira getting off the Strike Gundam and, for some inexplicable reason, acted without thinking, she now wore a terrifying expression.
Standing in front of Wang Hu, the girl gritted her teeth as if she had encountered an enemy!
This sudden turn of events made everyone present feel a jolt of unease.
Unlike in the original timeline, Mu did not reach for the gun at his waist as if to protect Kira.
Instead, his eyes remained fixed on Ashman, as if trying to gauge the leader's reaction.
"Cagalli?" Ashman didn't notice Mu's gaze. In fact, his mind was racing with thoughts.
On one side was the organization's major financial backer, and on the other was the Qilin representing East Asia—the hope for the organization's future advancement.
Caught between these two, Ashman quickly weighed whom to sacrifice.
Fortunately, just as Ashman was hesitating internally about abandoning Cagalli—after all, financial backers could be found elsewhere, but opportunities like this were rare—Cagalli took a deep breath, her face grim, and turned to leave.
Instantly, the tension eased.
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