Becoming a Russian Oligarch After Rebirth
Chapter 724: Undercurrents Brewing_1

Chapter 724: Chapter 724: Undercurrents Brewing_1

As Wang Ye and the bosses of the domestic inspection group were engaged in revelry, unseen turmoil had already commenced far away in Burkina Faso, located on the African continent.

Ouagadougou, the biggest city and the capital of Burkina Faso.

The city’s population surpassed a million, making it much larger than the small town of their tribe.

Of course, due to economic backwardness, even as the capital of the country, it still looked dilapidated.

Apart from a few decent high-rise buildings in the bustling city center, most of the houses in the rest of the city looked like slums.

Entering the twenty-first century, the sight of abundant houses still made of mud in a country’s capital is rare.

The best location in the city center hosts a massive mansion, fenced with high walls and under strict security.

From the outside, all one could see were towering trees behind the wall blocking any view from the outside.

Armed guards in uniform stood at the entrance, watching strangers with wary eyes to deter them from approaching.

They barred any idle bystanders from approaching the mansion.

Burkina Faso’s incumbent president, Kombore, resided here!

It was past seven in the evening, and Kombore was watching the TV news on the living room sofa after dinner.

Despite being poor, Burkina Faso still had its own National TV station, being a considerable country.

The TV programs were all in French because the country was once a colony of France, so the official language is French...

In the news, apart from global affairs, the local news was mainly about Kombore.

While he was engrossed in watching, his secretary rushed in fervently.

Hurrying to Kombore’s side, bending over, he whispered: "Mr. President, I’ve just received some rather troubling news. The chieftain of the largest tribe of the Mossi, and several tribal chieftains from the Gulmence Tribe and Bobo Tribe, have been in frequent contact recently. What’s more, our commander of the President’s Mansion Guard, Blaise, seems to be involved..."

Listening, Kombore frowned, and he asked in a low voice: "Has this news been confirmed? What is Blaise up to, associating so closely with those tribal chieftains?"

It’s not that he didn’t trust his secretary, but rumors like these have appeared almost every year in recent years.

Crying wolf too many times had made him insensitive.

Of course, he would still take the necessary precautions and verify the news. After all, caution leads to preservation.

Caught in an awkward situation, the secretary responded, "The frequent contacts amongst tribal chieftain have been confirmed, but we don’t know what their meetings were about. As for Blaise getting involved with them, it’s just a hearsay; no one can prove it."

This was indeed a tough situation; after all, many government departments don’t exist in Burkina Faso. Unlike Russia, there is no Safety Bureau here.

The corresponding powers are left to the President’s Secretariat and the Guard.

Expecting these clerks to gather intelligence was far from ideal.

The intelligence department of the Guard was also mostly "part-time" without professional methods and equipment.

Besides, the matter this time involved their commander, who would promptly investigate their own direct superior?

Kombore rose and paced a few rounds in the living room.

He had an uneasy feeling that this time was somehow different from before, and the signs were not promising.

Perhaps this was because he had been holding this position for too long, combined with him spending nearly half a year abroad in Europe and the United States for "study visits," leading to a decrease in his control over internal affairs.

Even the supposedly staunchly loyal President’s Mansion Guard didn’t seem as faithful to him.

Was Blaise starting to get restless too?

Has he forgotten who it was that recruited him from the streets, where even shoes were a luxury, and promoted him all the way to the command of the Guards?

He had considerable power too.

After taking a few turns, Kombore decisively ordered, "Verify this matter again, especially Blaise’s whereabouts. Be careful not to startle him."

Though the secretary’s information was just "rumors" and even if Kombore had an ominous feeling, he couldn’t do something right away.

He needed to ascertain the truth first, who had ulterior motives, and who could be trusted.

As well as, what those people planned to do!

Then, he could take targeted action. He had managed to secure his seat for over twenty years; of course, he wouldn’t be easily trifled with!

...

Elsewhere, under the protection of Blaise’s subordinates, Moumu personally led his five hundred tribal armed forces and a "command group" sent by Petrov, quietly making their way to a small city not far from the capital.

This city was home to a friendly tribe.

Although Moumu’s five hundred tribal armed forces had not yet "graduated," having trained only for a short period.

But now that the crucial moment had arrived, it was time for them to make their presence felt.

It was yet to be ascertained how effective they would prove themselves in combat, but they certainly looked intimidating.

Generously funded, these five hundred men were dressed in matching camouflage combat suits, boots, and standard weapons. Their morale was high, and they were in perfect order.

They stood there, emanating an intense air of severity!

In contrast, the armed forces of the friendly tribe looked rather pitiful.

They stood there in a mess, dressed in large shorts and vests, and some were even barefoot.

The weapons they carried were even more varied, essentially relics left from World War II. Whether they could accurately hit the target was debatable, and their firing capability was dubious...

Comparing the two forces, the old chieftain of the friendly tribe spoke enviously to Moumu, "That mine you discovered last year must’ve made some good money, just look at your troops. You must have spent quite a bit."

The old chieftain wasn’t exactly poor either; he had a decent gold mine within his territory.

He was just unwilling to spend money on armed forces. But his children were rich heirs living in grand villas, driving luxury cars, and yachts abroad!

Petrov didn’t come along with Moumu, but they kept in touch constantly.

He was currently stationed at the security base, directing some covert operations that were crucial to the success of their plan.

Of course, when push comes to shove, Petrov wouldn’t hesitate to take action if Moumu’s side became hard pressed.