Mercenary’s War
Chapter 1037 - 1037 One Thousand Twenty-One So What If I'm Playing You

1037: Chapter One Thousand Twenty-One: So What If I’m Playing You 1037: Chapter One Thousand Twenty-One: So What If I’m Playing You Gao Yang grabbed the walkie-talkie and stepped outside.

He didn’t need to ask; as soon as he went out, he could see who had started fighting.

As Gao Yang had expected, the brawl was between some trouble-making mercenaries who enjoyed watching excitement and a few instructors from Signal Flag.

Farouk’s forces had five Russian instructors teaching them; they had already been training for five days.

These instructors, all from Russia’s Signal Flag, were genuinely strong.

Anyone with a bit of expertise could tell—they were all formidable.

A couple of hundred meters in front of the row of houses where Gao Yang and his crew stayed was Farouk’s main training camp.

There was no choice; the airport was spacious, but every spot had its purpose.

The only place available to provide training grounds for the extra hundred or so men was an open space not far from where Gao and his team were located.

There were a few men from Satan’s group present; most of them had guns raised, all except Jinfang who was holding a walkie-talkie, standing outside a huddled crowd waiting for Gao Yang.

Of the five Russian instructors, four had their guns up, looking ferocious.

As for the few mercenaries they had brought along, each one was holding a gun, all pointed at the heads of the five Russians.

Gao Yang hurriedly jogged a few steps closer to the crowd and shouted, “What happened?”

His view was blocked by the crowd, but hearing Gao’s voice, a few of them made way for him, allowing Gao Yang to see the situation inside the ring of people.

Wild Man was sitting on the ground, his face full of anger, his arms hanging down.

Alcohol, on the other hand, had a face covered in blood.

His nose was broken, and blood was gushing out.

But Alcohol didn’t wipe it off; instead, he struck a fighting pose, intently staring at a Russian in his forties standing before him.

The two sides were at an intense stand-off, with most of the mercenaries holding handguns, while the four Russian instructors all had rifles at the ready.

Standing next to Alcohol, Gao Yang’s face was stern as he shouted, “What’s the story here?”

As Gao Yang spoke, Alcohol bit his lips, staying silent, while Wild Man’s face showed a mix of urgency, embarrassment, and anger.

It was then that Clown shouted, “Boss, these assholes were driving us away, and Wild Man exchanged a few words with them before they started fighting, and now here we are.”

The unarmed Russian in his forties, who was staring down Alcohol, was the leader of the instructors.

After hearing Clown’s words, he calmly asked, “You are their boss?”

Gao Yang glanced at the Russian, not uttering a word.

Without responding, he just turned to Clown and asked, “Who drew their gun first?”

Clown, a bit embarrassed, replied, “Me.”

Gao Yang frowned and scolded, “If you’re going to fight, just fight!

Why the hell are you drawing guns!

Put your guns away!”

Between mercenaries, there wasn’t really a firm chain of command, but Gao Yang’s words carried weight.

Clown puffed his cheeks, grumbled under his breath, and put his handgun back in its holster.

The others also followed suit and stashed away their weapons.

As for Satan’s men, they immediately holstered their guns as soon as Gao Yang spoke.

The situation was clear; Wild Man and Alcohol had stirred up trouble.

Wild Man had been hit by one of the Russian instructors, and Clown had rashly drawn his gun in haste.

Seeing that Gao Yang’s group had put away their weapons, the Russian leader gestured, and the four behind him similarly stashed their guns.

The Russians might have holstered their weapons, but one burly man let out a “ha,” spat on the ground, and muttered something offensive in Russian while looking at Gao Yang.

By now, Gao Yang could also speak Russian; the Russian’s words were nothing more than the usual curses like “Damn bastard.”

There were quite a few on Satan’s side who understood Russian, and several were Russians themselves.

Hearing the swear, immediately four or five of them started hurling insults back.

“You damned pig!”

“F**k you!”

At that moment, Glolov came over nonchalantly with his machine gun, accompanied by Andy He and Frey.

The three of them had been inside the house and missed the initial conflict, but once they realized there was a fight and Gao Yang was already managing the situation, they simply carried over a machine gun.

Everyone was armed, and in case negotiations failed and fists couldn’t resolve the issue, and it really came to gunfire—a situation that was not uncommon—they needed to show off the fiercest firepower, at least to intimidate the other side.

“You are their boss?” The Russian addressed Gao Yang again, but once more, Gao did not respond to him and instead waved at Andy He and shouted, “Hurry up!

Don’t dawdle.”

Andy He rushed forward a couple of steps with an excited look on his face and asked, “What’s going on, is the fight over?”

Gao Yang pointed at Wild Man and yelled, “Check his arms, will you?”

Andy He looked over at Wild Man, grabbed his shoulders and gave them a shake, causing Wild Man to break out in a sweaty, pained cry, “F**k you!

Don’t move, it’s broken!”

After inspecting Wild Man, Andy He turned to him and said, “It’s not broken, just dislocated.”

Dislocations were much more painful for adults than for children, but as Andy He held down Wild Man’s shoulder and made a sudden pull and push, there was a soft “click.” Wild Man screamed in pain, but even before he finished, Andy had realigned one of Wild Man’s arms.

Without hesitation, Andy He then grabbed Wild Man’s other arm and with another “click,” it was back in place.

Clapping his hands, Andy He said to Gao Yang, “All is well, just needs a few days rest.

Being an adult, dislocations are a bit trickier.”

Gao Yang nodded, turned to the Russian, and said, “You had something to say, go ahead and speak.”

The Russian still seemed quite composed as he said in a deep voice, “Are you their boss?”

“I am,” Gao affirmed.

The Russian waved his hand and commanded, “Take them and leave.

During our training, no watching or approaching is allowed.”

The Wild Man’s face was flushed with anger.

He wanted to speak, but after a stern glare from Andy He in front of him, he swallowed his words back.

Hearing the Russian’s conditions, the cause of the incident was clear without asking, as was the sequence of events that led to the fight.

Gao Yang nodded and replied, “Alright.”

The Russian seemed a bit surprised by Gao’s prompt agreement but soon nodded and said, “Good, we’ve reached a mutual understanding.

Then there’s nothing more to say, goodbye.”

Dragging his words, Gao Yang said, “Hold on a second, I agreed not to come near or watch your training, and honestly, I understand if your training methods and content need to be confidential.

We can avoid looking, but we live here and can see you as soon as we step out, even if we’re not interested.

So, what do you suggest we do?”

Gao Yang spoke in a relatively even tone.

The Russian frowned and then said, “You can move out.

I will make a request to the person in charge here.”

Gao Yang nodded and responded, “Fine, you go and talk to them.”

The Russian nodded and turned to leave, but Gao Yang raised his voice again, calling out, “Wait a minute.”

The Russian turned back, his brow furrowed, and asked, “What else do you want?”

With a faint smile, Gao Yang uttered firmly, “You’ve said your piece, but I haven’t said mine.

Listen, your training disturbed me, and frankly, it’s so rudimentary that it’s nauseating.

I don’t like it one bit.

From now on, when you see us come out, stop your training until we leave.

And during training, no noise or shooting allowed—it disturbs our rest.

Understood?”

All five Russians immediately became angry.

The leader glared at Gao Yang and said, “I thought you were a smart man, but it appears you’re playing games with me.”

Gao Yang whistled softly and retorted, “So what if I am?”

The Russian stepped forward toward Gao Yang but, for the time being, refrained from becoming violent, merely glaring as he said seriously, “Are you done?

If so, can we leave now?”

Surprisingly, the Russian remained composed and opted to back down, but unfortunately for him, Gao Yang had no intention of letting the matter rest.

He had to stand up for his own to maintain his standing.

Gao Yang shook his head lightly, pointed at the Wild Man and Alcohol behind him, and asked, “Was it you who hit them?”

The Russian smirked dismissively and replied, “It was.

Their fists aren’t as impressive as their mouths.

What, you got a problem with that?”

Gao Yang said earnestly, “It’s not that I have a problem, I’m furious.”

The Russian cracked a sly grin and mocked, “You’re furious?

So what?

Why don’t you tell me what you want?”

Gao Yang gestured backward and commanded in a grave tone, “Apologize to them, a sincere apology, and we can let bygones be bygones.”

The Russian chuckled and inquired, “And if I refuse?”

“If you refuse, the consequences could be severe.”

The Russian laughed out loud, then looked at Gao Yang with disdain, raised his eyebrows, and pronounced, “I refuse to apologize.

You want to throw punches or guns?

I’m all in!”

With guns loaded, all four Russians held their weapons in one hand, and now they placed their left hands on the foregrips of the AK74s, holding the guns horizontally.

Shooting the Russians would be a joke; Gao Yang hadn’t lost his senses.

If a real firefight broke out, that would escalate things; these Russians weren’t just mercenaries, they were sent by Russia to aid Syria.

In other words, they came from a powerful patron.

Gao Yang’s plan was simple.

With Li Jinfang there, whatever his people suffered, they’d dish right back.

To act, he must capitalize on the moment, maintaining a strong presence and having the last word was essential—in a full-frontal assault on the opposition.

In line with this principle, Gao Yang wore a contemptuous smile and taunted, “Using guns?

That would be bullying you, and I have no interest in picking on the weak.

So, I’m not planning to use guns.

I’m thinking of using my fists to educate you, teach you how to behave.

When you’re beaten black and blue, you can cry home to mommy like a little kid.

After that, you’ll have grounds to send us packing.”

The Russian’s face turned a greenish hue with fury, yet he managed to keep a rational tone and expression, clenching his fists until they cracked.

With cold contempt, the Russian challenged, “Quit showing off with your mouth.

Come on then, let’s see which mother’s coward needs to run crying for help.”

(To be continued.

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