I Became a Black Market Tycoon with an Inventory - Chapter 67
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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067-The Black Night of Dalapaanan
67.
Karim clenched his teeth hard upon confirming Murad’s death.
He bit down so fiercely that blood seeped through his tightly pressed lips.
His body trembled with rage.
His fists clenched tight.
Karim and Murad had never been on the best of terms.
Yet Karim held affection for Murad.
I regarded Murad as my father.
We clashed in opinion time and again, but it was never out of hatred.
It was the kind of common father-and-son conflict that many families experience.
A son who fails to understand his father’s will,
and a father frustrated by such a son.
It was that sort of paternal relationship you could see anywhere.
Karim and Murad were no different.
I kept insisting that dialogue alone was insufficient—that we needed a harder line—but
Murad would persuade me otherwise.
Some days I found Murad exasperating, and other days I understood him.
We never achieved perfect understanding of one another, but we did not despise each other.
Rather, we cherished and cared for one another.
It was one of the reasons the Bangsamoro Liberation Front had endured this long.
Yet that very Murad was shot down.
By a sniper rifle, no less.
Among the Rebel Forces, only Abu Sayyaf could procure sniper rifles.
Amir had killed Murad.
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.
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I assembled a team.
A ten-man suicide squad to eliminate Amir.
Ten elite operatives stood ready to deploy, sworn to end Amir’s life no matter what it took.
Operation codename: Maut—death in Arabic.
It was a solemn resolve that only death could conclude this operation.
Are you certain Amir was the one who killed him?
It doesn’t matter.
This was the perfect opportunity to eliminate Amir, who had long been my nemesis.
And at the presumed sniper position,
seeds from Abu Sayyaf’s signature fruit lay scattered.
A rather expensive fruit, cultivated only by Abu Sayyaf.
A small fruit resembling a cherry that Abu Sayyaf operatives frequently carried and ate for convenience.
He probably ate fruit while waiting for the sniper shot and spit out the seeds—we found them.
That’s conclusive enough.
Even if it weren’t, it wouldn’t matter.
Karim wanted to lead the team himself, but everyone stopped him.
“That’s impossible. With Murad gone, you must hold your position, Karim.”
“That’s right. Leaving now is absolutely out of the question.”
“We can’t send you into such danger.”
“You need to stay here and reassure the people, keep them calm.”
Unable to resist the objections around him.
He could only send ten selected operatives.
To them, Murad was a father, a friend, a mentor.
For Murad’s vengeance, they could easily lay down their lives.
And so.
In the late afternoon, ten death-defying operatives departed the base to capture Amir.
All Karim could do was wait after sending them off.
.
.
.
“Still no contact?”
“I apologize. I’ll try again.”
“No, leave it. They’ll call.”
Twelve hours had passed since the operatives left, yet there was no contact.
By now, they should have killed Amir and returned to base with time to spare, but nothing.
An ominous feeling crept in.
I pushed away the dark thoughts creeping into my mind and waited for them to return.
They’ll come back.
They have to come back.
Then, in the distance, a single truck approached slowly.
A white flag planted on it.
Karim bolted forward,
and the others rushed after him in a flood.
The truck, moving at a crawl, came to a stop,
and the driver thrust both hands out the window.
“Don’t shoot. No weapons. I’m making a delivery.”
The man shouted.
“In back, in the cargo bed. There’s cargo.”
The man spoke with his hands still extended,
and the others went around to the back and opened the cargo door.
Creak.
As the truck’s door opened, what lay inside was once filled with valor,
Ten assassins sent to take Amir’s life now lay as cold corpses.
Those who witnessed the bodies were too shocked to move.
Karim was no exception.
Then a phone rang.
The phone was among the bodies.
Karim answered it.
“Hello?”
– Looks like you arrived safely, judging by you picking up.
“Amir?”
– Oh, you even remember my voice? I’m honored.
“Did you kill our men?”
– Well, I did kill them, didn’t I? Or did I not? If my men killed them, then I didn’t kill them, right? What do you call this situation? Did I do it? Did I not do it?
Karim’s fury reached its peak at Amir’s composed tone.
“Damn it!!!”
– Whoa, calm down. I’m the one who should be upset. I was minding my own business, and you sent people to kill me. I’m the one who should be angry here, not you.
“You killed Murad.”
– I told you I didn’t. I didn’t kill Murad. I don’t like him, but not enough to kill him. You’re misunderstanding.
“How am I supposed to believe you?”
– You don’t have to, but it’s a bit unfair from my perspective.
“Go settle your grievances in hell. Wait for me—I’ll come personally and take your head.”
– Ah, that’s actually why I called. I got pretty angry that you tried to kill me. I wanted to wipe you all out right then and there, but we can’t do that to fellow Muslims, can we? So I’m giving you a chance.
“A chance?”
– Yes. Your last chance to live. You and the BLF surrender immediately and come under Abu Sayyaf. That’s my condition.
“Are you insane?”
“I think you’re the insane one. We’ve had many opportunities to suppress the BLF by force, yet we haven’t. For one reason alone—because you’re fellow Muslims. And I’m showing you tremendous mercy by forgiving you for trying to kill me, according to Allah’s teachings. So think carefully about this.”
“You’re talking nonsense, you bastard.”
– Heh, your mouth is sharp? Still, I’m being generous, so I’ll give you until midnight today. If by then you haven’t said you’ll surrender and dedicate the BLF to me, I’ll really wipe you out.
“My answer is NO now, and it’ll be NO at midnight too, you bastard. Do whatever you want. Once you’re dead, you won’t be able to do anything anyway. I’ll come kill you soon.”
– I’ll wait. But when are you coming? I think I might get there faster.
“Come or don’t. Either way, the fact that you’re going to die doesn’t change.”
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.
.
After hanging up, Amir fell into deep thought.
He was genuinely angry.
Send ten people to kill me?
Ten of them?
If it weren’t for the spy I’d planted in the BLF, I would have been caught off guard.
It was a method I never anticipated.
The BLF and I growl at each other, but we don’t scratch.
It was certainly a scheme of deception.
Abu Sayyaf was being blamed for something I never did.
But it was also a good opportunity.
Too good to simply let pass.
Murad was absent, and Karim had initiated the conflict.
I had even sent assassins to kill Amir.
And there was the gold mine on top of it all.
The justification lay with Amir.
Even if Abu Sayyaf struck the Bangsamoro Liberation Front now, no one would condemn Abu Sayyaf.
No matter how I considered it, this seemed to be the moment.
The Bangsamoro Liberation Front could be crushed whenever I wished.
But an opportunity to seize both victory and justification was rare.
If I failed to consume the Bangsamoro Liberation Front now, there was no guarantee when another chance would arise.
Amir made his decision.
“All operatives are to prepare for combat.”
.
.
.
If the enemy’s combat strength was 10 and mine was 100?
What percentage of my combat strength should I allocate to the battle?
20%? 50%?
No.
100%. I must commit everything.
That way the battle ends quickly.
Casualties are minimized.
Spoils of war remain plentiful.
So whenever battle erupted, I poured every available resource into achieving victory in the shortest time possible.
This was my way.
This time too, I deployed all my forces.
With overwhelming superiority, I would end the battle in an instant.
Just in case weapons proved insufficient.
Fearing ammunition shortages, I purchased weapons from an arms dealer.
Since I received weapons from headquarters, I hadn’t anticipated they would be this expensive, but they cost far more than expected.
Still, now was the time to make the purchase.
My preparations were complete.
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.
.
Karim moved about the perimeter of the BLF Base, preparing for the battle that would soon unfold.
He had told Amir to wait, but
It was difficult to actually attack Amir.
If it were just a guerrilla operation to kill Amir alone, that would be one thing.
In a direct confrontation, the Bangsamoro Liberation Front had no chance of victory.
But the attempt to kill only Amir had already failed.
The ten suicide operatives returned as cold corpses.
We couldn’t use the same method again.
Amir would already be cautious, doubly so.
Rather, Amir might use this as a pretext to strike back.
We had to prepare for that.
We had to prepare for battle.
We stockpiled supplies,
and maintained emergency combat readiness.
We blocked the routes the enemy could take and posted sentries.
We even purchased weapons from an arms dealer whose ownership had recently changed.
It was somewhat expensive, but there was no choice in the current situation.
But what kind of person demands payment in Candy Coin?
That’s one strange fellow.
******
“Young Boss, Abu Sayyaf has completed their preparations,” Dennis reported.
“Is that so?”
Dennis had come early in the morning to deliver his report.
“Yes. All preparations are complete now, and they’re just waiting for the order to sortie.”
“By the way, what about the movements of the New People’s Army you were supposed to investigate?”
“According to our intelligence, they’ve gone deeper into hiding. Fearing they might get caught in the crossfire, they’ve suspended external operations and are currently in seclusion.”
“Then we won’t have to worry about the New People’s Army stabbing us in the back. Let’s begin our preparations as well.”
“We’re almost finished with our preparations as well.”
“Good. Make sure we’re ready to depart at any moment. There’s much work to be done.”
We had also prepared for this battle for a long time.
In fact, we had prepared longer than Abu Sayyaf or the Bangsamoro Liberation Front.
We were the ones who set up the board in the first place, who devised the plan.
We were the ones who made them fight, who stirred the pot.
Everything seemed to be flowing according to the picture I had drawn, but when we were struggling due to insufficient detailed information,
fortunately, thanks to the Rebel Forces purchasing weapons from us, we were able to extract concrete operational details and intelligence.
Though we did coax them with the lie that we were consulting on appropriate weapon lineups.
Two hundred Tamaya Military personnel were fully armed and ready.
Each carried a rifle and a pistol at their waist.
And the vehicles in the rear were loaded with 60mm and 81mm mortars.
We divided them into units.
Red Team was the combat unit.
Blue Team was the rear unit that would pound them with mortar fire.
The Green Team was assigned to plant bombs along the enemy’s escape routes.
We would ensure that none of those waging war could slip away.
Thus, the operation’s codename was Ibada—Arabic for eradication.
*******
We established our position on the outskirts of the Bangsamoro Liberation Front base.
I launched a drone at altitude to assess the situation.
“Abu Sayyaf is approaching. One hour remains before they reach the BLF base.”
“Okay. Continue observing and report.”
“Understood.”
The Green Team, tasked with planting bombs along the enemy’s escape routes, had separated from us and was waiting near the entrance.
Once Abu Sayyaf entered, they would plant the explosives at that location.
No one would leave alive.
“Thirty minutes until arrival.”
We continued tracking the enemy’s position via drone, monitoring the situation intently.
“Artillery positioning complete. Ready to fire at any moment.”
“Bomb preparations finished.”
“All units on standby.”
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.
.
Amir was leading his entire force toward the Bangsamoro Liberation Front base.
Amir’s military was exceptionally well-armed.
Their equipment was equally superior.
They even possessed armored vehicles.
Countless soldiers advanced toward the Bangsamoro Liberation Front base.
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.
.
A profound silence descended upon the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s headquarters.
The Bangsamoro Liberation Front knew.
Abu Sayyaf was coming now.
Everyone waited at their positions for the signal.
Some had dug into the earth and lay in ambush,
while others had taken sniper positions atop the mountain.
This was the Bangsamoro Liberation Front’s home.
No one could enter or leave as they pleased.
Today, we would teach that arrogant Abu Sayyaf this truth.
“Abu Sayyaf is approaching. Three kilometers ahead.”
“They’ve advanced to two kilometers out.”
“Abu Sayyaf is one kilometer ahead···”
Boom!!
Amir commenced artillery bombardment using armored vehicles before the briefing even concluded.
It was a declaration of war—he would grant the Bangsamoro Liberation Front no time to prepare.
Thus began the war between Abu Sayyaf and the Bangsamoro Liberation Front.
The conflict that would come to be known as .
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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