Chapter 67: Ominous News

Chen Cao listened in silence. Istralov was right: a warrior deprived of his weapons and falling into the enemy’s hands would meet a fate even more wretched than that of civilians caught in war.

But time was short. Chen Cao didn’t let Istralov continue. Reality demanded their attention; the past was past, and Chen Cao only wanted answers to his own questions.

“All right, Mr. J, we don’t have much time. This place isn’t safe. We can talk about these things later, once we’re somewhere secure!” Chen Cao lowered his gun as he spoke. “I just want to know: with your abilities, why have you stayed in this dark dungeon for twenty years? I don’t believe your feelings for the Kokora warriors are the only reason.”

Istralov paused, then said to Chen Cao, “You’re from the Dachen State’s 0611 unit. What position do you hold? Your mind is far more mature than your age suggests.”

Chen Cao raised the gun again, aiming it steadily at Istralov. “That’s not for you to know. I only want to ask why you have been here for twenty years!”

Facing the gun, Istralov spread his hands and smiled helplessly. “You know, for an outstanding intelligence officer, being captured is tantamount to death. Forcing him to give up information is absolutely impossible.” As he spoke, he gestured toward Zhou Hongye, who sat gravely injured in the darkness, silently listening to their exchange. “This Mr. Zhou should understand that well.”

Chen Cao knew Istralov spoke the truth and lowered his gun. “Fine. Likewise, for the sake of your country, I have no right to force you to reveal your mission. But at the very least, I need to know what role I played in your operation.”

Istralov lifted his eyelids. “You were the intermediary.”

Chen Cao looked at him, puzzled. “What intermediary?” He truly didn’t understand what Istralov meant.

Seeing Chen Cao lower his gun, Istralov shifted slightly and traced circles on the floor with his hand. “I suspect you’ve been brooding over the signal transmitter Mosika implanted in your body. Deep down, you probably want to kill that girl. But I want you to know she had no choice—it was her way of ensuring your safety.”

Chen Cao was struck by this. Indeed, when he discovered Mosika had implanted the transmitter while he was wounded, he had truly contemplated killing her.

Istralov caught his breath and continued, “That signal transmitter is the intermediary. Our intelligence agents discovered this base a long time ago, but back then it was small and easily overlooked, just one of Alfred’s many hideouts. It wasn’t until a few years ago, when the Justice League led by Mainz launched this war, that the Jihad Organization used prisoners to build up the base, expanding it to its current scale and making it their headquarters. At that point, the Jihad Organization under Alfred began to take this base seriously and made comprehensive upgrades. It now blocks all external signals except their own, and any electronic data leaving this place is automatically destroyed by machine-emitted radiation. I imagine your crystal memory card is useless now.”

Chen Cao recalled, when he first entered the underground complex, that the technology and scale here clearly exceeded what the Jihad Organization could muster. The unexpected coup in Kokora had led to the collapse of its army, providing tens of thousands of strong prisoners as forced labor—a formidable manpower resource.

At that moment, Zhou Hongye, with his background in intelligence, interjected, “You came here to gather military intelligence. But you couldn’t contact the outside world. So the transmitter Chen Cao carried was an intermediary system, allowing you to communicate with Kokora’s military members and relay the signals you intercepted. You didn’t carry it yourself because such transmitters are easily detected.”

“That’s about right,” Istralov conceded. “It also served as a locator. If it hadn’t been for Mosika’s signal, I wouldn’t have recognized you just now, and you would’ve fallen to the Reaper.”

Chen Cao didn’t seem grateful for Istralov’s explanation; he gave a cold laugh. “So, my mission was so simple after all. You people have remarkable patience. I imagine over the past twenty years, you’ve found plenty of intermediaries, but they all met untimely ends. And you, Mr. J, the king of spies, didn’t really stay here for twenty years—you’ve been hunting someone in Oderlu’s territory all this time.”

“Well, I have nothing to say to that. It’s just business. Didn’t you also use our intelligence to find the person you were after?” Istralov didn’t answer Chen Cao directly, but his words confirmed half of it.

In truth, Chen Cao already understood. The Kokora government had sent a spy king of Istralov’s caliber to lie low here for twenty years for one reason: to find someone—Alfred, the principal leader of the Jihad Organization. What exactly they wanted with him was a core secret that Chen Cao couldn’t guess, nor did he care to. Especially before Istralov, it was best not to play such games; the more you knew, the greater the danger.

He stopped thinking about it and said, “All right, the transaction is complete. Shouldn’t we be leaving? But I have one more question: if this is the headquarters, why aren’t there any guards? We’ve been talking here for quite some time.”

When Chen Cao said this, Istralov knew the tension between them had eased. He stood up, stretched his limbs, wiped his pale face, and said, “Perhaps you’re lucky. Just a few hours ago, the Justice League launched a full assault on the Jihad Organization, crushing hundreds of their bases across Oderlu within minutes. Alfred and Sebastian were forced to evacuate, so they abandoned this base. I expect the Justice League’s troops will soon discover it.”

Chen Cao understood: he and Istralov were now in the same boat. The intelligence was likely accurate. He helped Zhou Hongye up, slung his weapon, and said to Istralov, “Then what are we waiting for? You lead the way.”

Istralov smiled faintly. “Of course. We are friendly neighbors, now working together. You’ve helped us tremendously, so it’s my duty.”

With that, he turned, produced another flashlight, and slowly walked past Chen Cao and Zhou Hongye. Instantly, the air filled with the stench of dead rats. Without further words, he led the way forward.

At this moment, Chen Cao recalled Istralov’s words, took out the crystal chip, and said to Zhou Hongye, “Little Fox, I’ll trust you for now. But you heard what Mr. J just said. I think Instructor Huang had a reason for making you swallow the chip. Once we leave, who knows if its contents will be erased, so…” Chen Cao paused, then continued, “You’ll just have to endure the pain once more. This might be the most important thing to prove your innocence.”

Zhou Hongye understood. Chen Cao was the main combatant; he couldn’t swallow the chip himself. Without hesitation, Zhou Hongye took the chip and swallowed it, this time washing it down with two gulps of water to ease the passage.

Chen Cao patted Zhou Hongye’s shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of everything.” With that, he supported Zhou Hongye and, weapon in hand, followed Istralov into the darkness.

Istralov seemed thoroughly familiar with the base. Chen Cao followed him back to the manual elevator they’d used before. When they passed the command center, it was deserted; all the equipment and computers had been removed, the area lifeless—so different from the bustle of just a few hours ago.

At last, they were finally about to leave, but so many questions remained.

Chen Cao gazed at the elevator, deep in thought.

By now, Istralov was already inside, lightly touching the controls. The elevator shuddered. “Come on, it’s fine,” he said, and began tapping out messages to send intelligence.

Chen Cao assisted Zhou Hongye onto the elevator. As soon as they boarded, the elevator groaned and creaked upward. Chen Cao knew there were people above, pulling them up.

He noticed that Istralov was unusually silent, his expression now somber rather than relaxed. His legs began to tremble. Chen Cao, recalling the psychology he’d learned from Linghu Ruomu, recognized this as a sign of inner anxiety.

What could make the king of spies so anxious? Chen Cao wondered.

After several dozen seconds, the elevator jerked to a halt. Its iron doors opened, and a stench so foul nearly knocked Chen Cao and Zhou Hongye unconscious.

The doors open, and the searing light of construction lamps stabbed their eyes. It took time to adjust. When he finally could see, Chen Cao found more than a dozen ragged, armed middle-aged men. Their hair was long and unkempt, but each held a weapon.

Zhou Hongye murmured to Chen Cao, “These must be the prisoners they rescued. Twenty years, never seeing the sun, suffering from exhaustion, hunger, and loneliness—no one could bear it.”

Chen Cao watched them silently greet Istralov, then split into two lines, standing in formation with practiced discipline.

While Chen Cao’s thoughts whirled, Istralov turned to him, his face grave. “Chen Cao, I have some bad news to tell you.”

Flame King 67_Flame King Full Free Reading_Chapter Sixty-Seven: Bad News is now updated!