Chapter 63: Urgent—A Choice Between Two!

With his mind full of questions, Xing Xiaolong pressed deeper into the village, where he came upon a group of villagers dancing with exaggerated hip movements, wielding all sorts of musical instruments as they advanced.

They loved to break into spontaneous dances, and always in groups.

Such scenes were characteristic of Africa.

Xing Xiaolong guessed they might be gathering for a meeting; after all, that’s how it was always depicted in documentaries. So he decided to take a risk, hiding behind the houses lining the road, and followed these dancing villagers of the Kaso tribe along the roadside.

Soon, the villagers converged at the center of the village, in front of an old Christian church.

During the First and Second World Wars, the country of Kazhema had been under the yoke of European colonial powers for many years. As a result, even in these remote tribal villages, churches and Christian believers were not uncommon.

“Hm? It seems my guess was a little off,” Xing Xiaolong thought as he circled behind the church, crouching beneath a corner wall to peer through a window. Inside the three or four hundred square meter church, besides the gathered villagers, were several elders of the Kaso tribe whose identities were clearly distinct.

“The military government has broken the agreement. They’ve decided to abolish the local militia policy, and are now mobilizing their troops—they could send soldiers into the buffer zone at any moment.

Outwardly, they claim to only want us to hand over those outsiders, but in truth, their aim is to drive us from here and seize our village.”

The speaker, an elder adorned with a necklace of teeth and a feather stuck in his hat, had barely finished before the crowd erupted in angry shouts.

“We will never leave!”

“This is our home. The military government has no right to evict us!”

“Even if it means our deaths, we’ll stay. Besides, we rescued those outsiders—they ought to pay us a fair reward for saving them!”

“We risked our lives to bring them back, and now they refuse to pay even a little compensation. Shameful outsiders!”

The villagers assembled here were seething with anger, their responses nearly unanimous, which clearly pleased the elder.

He struck the floor with his scepter—a staff fashioned from a giraffe’s leg bone, gilded in gold, signifying his authority as tribal king.

He rallied them: “Yes, we will not leave. Our ancestors have lived here for generations, tending this land and passing it down to us.

It is our duty to continue caring for and protecting it, to leave it for our children and grandchildren. This is the responsibility of us all, and we will not yield. So…”

The elder made his decision, rising from his chair and raising his staff high: “Listen to me, all of you! Tonight, we will send the women and children away, secretly and under cover of darkness, to hide in a safe place.

All the men must stay behind to defend our village…”

“No, no, we can’t do that,” a man stood up nervously, opposing the idea. “There are too few of us with guns. We’ll be crushed by the rebels and the army. It’s too dangerous.”

“He’s right! We shouldn’t stay. We should hand those people over as soon as possible, and then seek help from the peacekeepers—they care about human rights and will surely help us through this crisis,” another middle-aged man interjected loudly.

The two men’s fear and dissent sparked anger among those who had earlier insisted on staying to defend the village.

“Cowardly moles! You’re a disgrace. If you leave, don’t ever come back!”

“This is the king’s decree. We should obey his orders. What are you really up to, openly defying him like this?”

“We haven’t done anything wrong. Even if the government troops come, there’s nothing they can do to us. I, for one, refuse to leave.”

The debate between those determined to resist and those tempted to flee quickly devolved into a heated argument.

“Enough! Quiet!”

The tribal king stepped forward, his face betraying no fear, his tone resolute: “Do as I say, now. Don’t worry about the rebels. Even if the army comes, they can do nothing to me…”

“Hm?”

At this, Xing Xiaolong sensed an unspoken meaning in the king’s words. He prepared to ponder it further, but the next exchange from inside the church caught his attention.

“Omul, you’re in charge of getting the women and children out,” the king instructed a tribesman, then turned to a dreadlocked man at his side: “Ganya, what’s the situation with the outsiders? They’re very important to us now—I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

“Don’t worry, King. The church is very secure, and I’ll have men guarding it. Nothing will happen,” replied the dreadlocked man confidently.

“They’re being held in the church?”

Hearing this crucial piece of information, Xing Xiaolong lost interest in the rest of the conversation. With the villagers beginning to file out, he seized the cover of night to slip away and return to the temporary camp by the same route.

…

“Damn it, where did you go? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

As soon as Xing Xiaolong returned to camp, Mengtiger stormed over like an enraged beast, grabbing him by the collar and snarling in a low voice.

“Your spit’s all over my face. It’s disgusting—don’t you know?” Xing Xiaolong, knowing Mengtiger couldn’t really do anything to him since he was the team’s designated outside specialist for this mission, wiped his face and continued, pulling out his phone to translate: “Besides, not only did I return safely, but I also managed to infiltrate the village and gather several pieces of vital intelligence.”

“You went in alone during the day? And came out unharmed?”

Mengtiger frowned in disbelief, assuming Xing Xiaolong was boasting to cover up his mistake of sneaking off without telling him.

Now that he knew where Su Dayu was being held and was eager to mount a rescue, Xing Xiaolong grew impatient at Mengtiger’s constant suspicion.

He raised his voice: “I don’t have time for your nonsense. I’ve already pinpointed the hostages’ location and overheard the Kaso tribal king’s conversation. The government’s situation has changed—they’re about to make a major move against the Kaso. Troops could arrive at any moment. We have only two choices: retreat now, or act before they do.”

“How is that possible?”

Blackfox strode over, disbelief on his face, pushing Mengtiger aside: “Tell me exactly what happened, in detail.”

Xing Xiaolong didn’t bother with Mengtiger’s rudeness and recounted everything he’d seen and heard in the village, leaving nothing out.

When he finished, Mengtiger stared at him in amazement, unable to believe how capable he was.

What Xing Xiaolong had accomplished—slipping in and out without help or detection—was something they dared not attempt even by day, relying instead on drones and remote devices.

Was this really something an ordinary person could do?

Mengtiger began to doubt his own earlier judgments, especially those made in the basement of the Peace Hotel.