DaoistnuoHBq

Tang Dao had come a long way from his humble beginnings, and he had no intention of stopping now. He relished the moniker of "The Lord of War," even if it came with a certain notoriety. To him, it was a badge of honor, a testament to his success in the world of international arms dealing.

As he read the headline in "World People Weekly" declaring that his most significant achievement was toppling Locke Martin, a sense of satisfaction washed over him. It was a reminder of the power he wielded, the influence he had over world events, and the wealth he had amassed.

Locke Martin, a rival arms dealer of considerable renown, had once been a formidable competitor. But Tang Dao's shrewd business acumen, his ability to adapt to changing circumstances, and his unwavering determination had allowed him to outmaneuver and eventually depose Martin from his lofty position.

For Tang Dao, every fighter, every weapon, and every deal was a means to an end. His focus was on profit, influence, and achieving his objectives. He had built a vast network of contacts, navigated the treacherous waters of international politics, and exploited the chaos of conflict zones to his advantage.

He was not just an arms dealer; he was a businessman who saw opportunities where others saw only risks. He had the ability to turn strife and turmoil into lucrative deals, and he reveled in the challenge.

In the world of arms dealing, Tang Dao was a force to be reckoned with. He was a man who had risen from obscurity to become a power player on the global stage. And as long as there were conflicts, wars, and those who sought to profit from them, Tang Dao knew that his place at the top was secure.

The world might bow down to him, or it might fear him, but one thing was certain: Tang Dao was a master of his craft, and he had no intention of relinquishing his position as the Lord of War.

The Strongest Arms Dealer

Tang Dao was setting up Felix for a predicament, and it seemed that getting out of it would require two lives.

Pierce was proving to be a sharp and resourceful employee, which the boss appreciated. They had a mutual understanding, and Tang Dao responded, "Of course, I will arrange for some funds to be transferred to your account as an advance. After you finish your work in the United States, we need you back in Mogadishu. Somalia needs you greatly."

Pierce felt honored by this trust and agreed wholeheartedly.

After ending the call, he paid the telephone bill at the supermarket and bought some Marlboro cigarettes. As he stepped outside, he noticed a gathering of people around a massive sculpture across the street. There were over a dozen imposing men of different backgrounds, some even sporting tattoos. They didn't seem like friendly characters.

Passersby were wary, and parents hurriedly guided their children away to avoid any trouble.

He threw two cigarettes like a skilled tosser, and they were quickly grabbed by eager hands.

The group eagerly opened the packs, showing their enthusiasm for a smoke after a long time without one.

Pierce addressed the group, "Canine Tooth, Priest, Mosquito, meet me tonight. The rest of you prepare your passports and purchase air tickets."

Mills, a bearded black man, remained behind as others got into the small Buick. Together, they weighed almost 600 kilograms, causing the car's tires to visibly sag under the weight.

Inside the car, Gerbachio, sitting in the back, complained, "Pierce, couldn't you have rented an SUV? My legs are cramped."

The co-pilot, a man wearing glasses with a cross hanging from his neck and a tattooed Bible on his cheek, added, "You should lose some weight."

Falk, known as the Priest, had an interesting background. He had served in the Vietnam War, operating the M60E1 machine gun single-handedly against the enemy. Despite being wounded and bloodied, he held his position, earning him a medal. However, after returning to the U.S., he sold his medal to cover his son's medical bills. Tragically, his son passed away, his wife left him, and he lost his family. He adopted the name "Father" not to signify his heroic past but to escape it. He didn't want to be a hero again, as it wasn't worth it.

Pierce's response to Gerbachio's complaints was nonchalant, but he praised Father's excitement, "You think I said it? You're too handsome, I wouldn't want to exorcise you."

"F**k, don't come near me!" Pierce raised his middle finger jokingly.

Father chimed in, "Does this person have a grudge against the boss?"

From the rear, a thin man called Mosquito spoke up. He had a strong sense of justice, having spent six years in prison. Upon retiring from the army, he worked as a school security guard but ended up in trouble when he intervened to help a black girl being bullied by white youths. After a physical altercation, the other party's gangster father sought revenge. Mosquito's straightforwardness resulted in a fatal confrontation, and he was imprisoned for six years.

Pierce glanced at Mosquito through the rearview mirror, acknowledging his strong sense of justice but finding it somewhat naive. "Sometimes, you have to kill even without personal hatred. In this world, it's often about profit. That person is merely a tool."

Mosquito couldn't quite accept this explanation, frowning as if wanting to respond. However, Gerbachio gently shook his head and restrained him.

The Priest, observing Mosquito's dilemma, sighed and remarked, "A weak sense of justice will lead you to join Satan's camp. God's mercy won't save you."

Chapter 79