When Anna called, Ronan had already returned to the vicinity of the coffee plantation.
Three middle-aged men came to see him. Who could they be?
It was quite obvious.
Demona had flown east, and after that incident involving Churchill, Ronan hadn't contacted the Hounds father-son duo. He had gone to Bileina Island specifically to find someone, and there was only one possibility!
Either the CIA or individuals hired by the CIA.
Ronan carefully observed the local workers in the plantation, making his clothes, face, and arms as dirty as theirs, making it difficult to discern his original skin color.
Near the plantation, there was quicklime used for soil sterilization.
Ronan found a piece of cloth, wrapped a large bundle, tucked it into his bag, and placed it on top of the paint sprayer.
Passing by the coffee grove, he casually took a worker's straw hat hanging on a fence and put it on.
As the sun set in the west, he looked like a coffee plantation worker heading home, making his way back to town.
The difference between Latinx and normal Caucasians was evident. While Barney-Ross and Lee-Crismer were low-key, the locals still cast peculiar glances their way.
With their tall, strong figures and a robust demeanor, Caesar and Jansen stood out like beacons in the darkness.
Ronan returned to the town and soon spotted these four individuals.
However, he blended in with a large group of coffee plantation workers and didn't catch their attention.
The four individuals were divided into pairs, separated by hundreds of meters.
Driven by his danger intuition, Ronan focused on the sturdy black-and-white pair.
As for the expressionless and bald figures, he also thought of a way to distract them.
Five local soldiers on rotation came from the governor's mansion. Ronan glanced at their shoulder patches and noticed an officer among them. He approached them proactively.
Seeing Ronan in the attire of a local coffee plantation worker, the five soldiers didn't obstruct him and allowed him to get closer.
"Is there something you need?" the leading officer asked.
Ronan tried his best to mimic the rolling accent of Old Amos and discreetly pointed towards the expressionless and bald duo. "Those two white men, seems like they're from the U.S. I overheard them asking about the governor's mansion."
Following Ronan's finger, the officer immediately noticed the expressionless face and the bald head. As a seasoned soldier, a quick glance was enough for him to understand that these two were not ordinary individuals!
The demeanor of the expressionless man and the bald man was truly extraordinary.
"Excellent!" The officer first nodded approvingly at Ronan, then turned to the four soldiers and said, "Follow me!"
The officer led one person directly, while the other three circled through a narrow alley to block the two individuals' retreat.
Ronan no longer paid attention to that side. Wearing the straw hat, he blended into the crowd and continued walking forward, discreetly following the black man and the blond white man.
The black man was Caesar, and he had complaints about the blond white man, Jansen: "We're on a mission, can't you be a bit more serious?"
Jansen, with a rebellious expression, pulled out a cigarette box. "What's the big deal? I just need to find a quiet spot, and I'll have a smoke."
Caesar gave a solemn warning, "Gonar, your addiction is getting worse by the day. Sooner or later, it'll ruin you."
Gonar-Jansen didn't care, "We risk our lives to make money, isn't it for the enjoyment?"
As the two spoke, they entered a sparsely populated street. Jansen couldn't wait and lit up a cigarette. Caesar shook his head helplessly.
The street wasn't crowded, but there were pedestrians passing by, mostly dirty plantation workers.
Caesar and Jansen, such formidable soldiers, didn't pay any attention to these people.
A dirty plantation worker came towards them. Caesar instinctively glanced at him, about to turn his head. His battle-hardened instincts, honed through years of life-and-death struggles, told him something was off.
Jansen was standing by the side, enjoying his smoke.
Caesar took a second look and immediately reached for the knife at his waist, but it was too late!
A cloud of white mist rushed towards them. He closed his eyes quickly, but they were too close, and with the wind blowing against them, even with closed eyes, some of the white powder still got in.
His eyes burned intensely, and darkness enveloped his vision.
Jansen stood beside Caesar, caught off guard, and he too was covered in lime dust.
Ronan's surprise attack succeeded. Without hesitation, he invoked his mental command for "Steel Claw," effortlessly dodged Caesar's swinging knife, and landed a punch on the back of his head.
Caesar, unable to see, was much less agile than Ronan. Struck in the back of the head, he felt dizzy and swung his knife backward. Then, with a buzzing sound in his ears, he thudded to the ground.
"I'll kill you, you bastard!"
Jansen, also unable to see, but under the influence of drugs and excited, pounced like a mad tiger. Ronan easily evaded, extended a foot without a sound, and Jansen tumbled like a dog slipping on dung!
Ronan kicked away the knife from his hand, then kicked him in the back of the head. Taking advantage of his disorientation, he twisted both of Jansen's arms and tied them up with a cloth rope, forming a tight knot.
The black man struggled to regain his senses. Ronan aimed another punch at the back of his head, and the man's face hit the ground, leaving him dazed and unable to get up.
Ronan bound him similarly and then thoroughly searched them. Besides identification and knives, each of them had a photocopy of a picture.
It was Ronan's old photos from the United States!
"Who are you?" Ronan picked up a knife and held it against the black man's neck.
The black man panted heavily, but didn't say a word.
Gonar-Jansen, high on drugs, shouted, "Are you Ronan?" He didn't need Ronan's confirmation. "We're the Death Squad, here to take your life!"
Out of caution, Ronan thrust a knife through the back of the black man's heart and withdrew it before moving to the side of the white man. "How many of you are here?"
Jansen couldn't open his eyes due to the lime dust, but his expression remained ferocious. "I'll kill you!"
Hearing gunshots in the town, Ronan didn't bother asking further questions. He swiftly ended the white man's life with another stab, collected the photocopies of the photos, and ran towards the source of the gunfire.
As he ran, he activated his spiritual vision, and two glowing red auras appeared above the respective bodies.
With a wave of his left hand, a red light came flying.
Soul Shard +7!
Soul Shard +7!
Simultaneously, information flashed in his mind.
Explosives expert: A warrior with a master's degree in chemical engineering, skilled in creating and using explosive devices! This ability was particularly useful in specific situations!
Ronan didn't have time to think much and turned onto the main street of the town.
Gunfire intensified, prompting him to head swiftly towards the harbor. He faintly heard the shouts of the local officer and the roar of engines from the governor's mansion.
Barney-Ross and Lee-Chrismeris killed five interrogating soldiers, seized their guns, and made their way to the harbor, engaging with the stationed military and police forces.
A large group of soldiers rushed from the governor's mansion, including two armored vehicles.
The two Death Squad leaders killed multiple law enforcement officers, including Tony, who had questioned them when they entered the harbor. They commandeered a seaplane and soared into the sky.
"Lud! Thor! Gonar! Caesar! Respond!" Barney called out over the radio. "Respond!"
"This is Lud!"
"This is Thor! We're heading to the governor's mansion. Most of the soldiers are out. We're preparing for a big move!"
Barney-Ross inquired, "Gonar! Caesar..."
But those two individuals remained silent.
Barney pounded the seat forcefully and saw the gathered Bileina Island soldiers on the pier. He shouted, "Lee, let's make a big impact!"
Chrismeris climbed into the aircraft's gun turret. Once Barney steered the plane, Chrismeris began a furious barrage towards the harbor.
The hail of bullets from the two M2 machine guns landed on the pier. Soldiers, crew members, and harbor workers were hit, with 12.7mm bullets practically shredding bodies into pieces.
"Wahaha—"
Chrismeris cheered excitedly.
Seeing the plane swoop and strafe, Ronan found cover behind a stone wall, stopping just outside the harbor. He picked up an AK rifle dropped by a soldier.
Not far away, Old Amos was shocked by the bloody scene, standing motionless.
After the strafing, armored vehicles pulled onto the pier. Their cannons roared, prompting Barney-Ross to yell, "I'm going after those dictators!"
Chrismeris instinctively produced a signal flare gun.
Barney-Ross maneuvered the aircraft back, opened the auxiliary fuel tank, and doused the pier and its surroundings with aviation fuel.
Ronan grabbed Old Amos, shouldered him, and ran back frantically, loudly calling to others, "Run! Get away from the pier!"
Some quick responders joined Ronan in the sprint.
However, a significant portion of the crowd didn't understand what was happening.
Chrismeris launched a flare, and with a booming sound, a blaze erupted on the pier.
The three gangways were engulfed in flames. Two armored vehicles and dozens of soldiers turned into torches.
Near the gangways, the harbor terminal, numerous buildings, and people were set ablaze. At least a hundred people screamed in the intense flames!
This fire, ignited by aviation fuel, raged ferociously. The fuel dropped by the speeding plane couldn't be limited to a small area. Wherever it landed, a raging inferno now consumed the vicinity.
Chrismeris shouted frantically, "Damn dictators!"
Barney-Ross watched the stunned crowd from the aircraft's window and declared, "This blaze will bring them freedom!"
Ronan lowered Old Amos, looking at the ascending plane. His AK rifle was no threat to the aircraft.
Old Amos muttered in a daze, "Why? Why?"
Countless people on Bileina Island wept uncontrollably,
Some lost their loved ones.
Some lost their friends.
Some lost their businesses or homes.
Old Amos murmured, "Without the pier, how will we export our coffee? How will essential supplies come in..."
Seeing the plane head towards the governor's mansion, Ronan slung the AK rifle on his back, immediately turned, and ran towards the French factory.
That plane was equipped with heavy firepower; in its presence, people were mere ants.
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