Chapter 21: Journey to Nepal

  "Who is your employer? Is there any backup?" The lame wolf stepped on the wound on the black man's hand and continued to ask.

  "It's the French high command, our backup..." The black man was about to continue when the sound of a helicopter rotor echoed in Lang's ears.

  He had finally gotten the revenge he wanted, and with a loud cry, the black man's voice was drowned out as he forcefully pulled out his bayonet and stabbed it through his heart. The black man's eyes gradually lost their luster, and a hint of unwillingness seeped from his dull gray pupils.

  He carelessly flicked off the blood beads on his military dagger, and Can Lang slowly walked towards the terrified Fat Buddha, "Listen," Can Lang said coldly, grasping the other's throat, "This time I won't kill you, because I don't want you to die on Tibetan soil. For the last time, remember, this is your last chance to escape from my hands." After finishing speaking, Can Lang picked up the abandoned 95-style assault rifle and turned to sneak into the dense forest, leaving behind a fat man who had been scared by the so-called "child" to lose control of his bowels.

  As soon as he walked out of the forest, the satellite phone of the lone wolf rang. Pressing the answer key, the anxious voice of Lao Yezi came in, "Kid! Where are you? I'll send a helicopter to pick you up right away!"

  Upon hearing the old man's concerned words, a warm current surged in Lang Hu's heart. It seemed that there was still someone who cared about him... "Grandfather, lock onto my coordinates. Not far from me is a helicopter with your target inside. I'm worried he has important information in his mouth, so I'll let him go. The rest is up to you to decide, no need to come pick me up, I'll take care of myself." Lang Hu finished speaking and hung up the line.

  Yadong County has long been known as "Little Jiangnan in the Tibetan area". Soaking in the famous Kangbu hot spring, Zanglang finally had a thorough relaxation. At this time, the satellite phone rang again, and Zanglang, who was closing his eyes to enjoy himself, reluctantly picked up the phone.

  "Hey, are you in Tibet? I'm with Jiyuan in Nepal, do you want to come over?" As soon as the call was answered, the sound of clanging and banging came from the other end of the phone, accompanied by the voice of Knife.

  "What are you running there for? Did you encounter the Gurkhas of Nepal?" The remaining wolves couldn't help but feel a bit tense, the Gurkhas were a renowned mercenary force after all, and their own VX squad was just a child in front of them.

  "Come on! We're heading to the Gurkha curved knife, if you're interested, hurry up and come over." The dagger seemed to be in a good mood, loudly speaking to the remaining wolf.

  "Alright, but with my current body shape, I don't need that thing anymore. Wait for me, tomorrow I'll fly to Nepal. I have to go back to Nanjing." He hung up the phone and felt it was pointless to soak any longer. The lone wolf got out and wiped his hot and steamy body, hurrying back to the Tibet Military Region.

  Through the military region, people learned that the bodies of the martyred lieutenant and others had been sent to Nanjing. The residual wolf touched the national flag armband in his pocket and boarded a helicopter.

  When he returned to the Nanjing Military Region, the martyrs' families had already arrived. Lang thought for a moment and quietly walked out of the military region, his identity was special, it's better not to show off too much.

  Back at the old man's villa, Zanlang once again gave a detailed report of the events to the elderly. After confirming that there were no other matters, Zanlang packed his belongings and rushed to the airport to fly to Nepal.

  Sitting back in the cockpit, Zan Lang tried his best to relax himself so as not to make any overreaction and cause another laughing stock.

  As soon as the plane landed in Nepal, Lang Zong had just walked out of the airport when he saw a smiling knife waving at him.

  The three brothers had just sat in the taxi when Lang began speaking to them in a high-pitched voice about what happened yesterday.

  "Boss, you mean to say that you accidentally made an enemy for our team? And it's a fellow practitioner?" Ji Yan asked with a gloating tone.

  "Unfortunately, your guess is correct." Daozi replied with a pretentious solemn tone, and then the three of them burst into laughter that filled the car.

  The taxi took the three to a small village. Under Jiyan's lead, Canlang and the other two walked into a dilapidated thatched cottage. Although he didn't know what they were doing in such a place, Canlang still followed patiently. Isn't there a classic saying that goes like this: "Miracles always occur in the most ordinary places."

  "Didn't expect that, did you? The world-famous Gurkha kukri was born in a place like this. The craftsmen here can polish out a dog-leg knife every day. And it's cheap and durable, heh heh, I ordered two, Chicken Eye ordered two, how about you? Want to order two as well?" Knife asked, watching the blacksmith hammering away at the steel bar in his hand.

  The wolf looked at the 170cm high knife, then looked at the chicken eye with a height of at least 190cm or more, and finally patted his forehead to dismiss the idea of getting one for himself. This kind of knife is not suitable for everyone, and short warriors can't exert its combat power. Only when used by tall and long-armed warriors like Chicken Eye will each slash produce great killing power.

  The remaining wolf looked around and found nothing special, so he lost interest. He walked out of the grass shed and got into a taxi that had been waiting for him outside and returned to the city.

  The taxi took the Lone Wolf all the way to Lumbini, a sacred place of Buddhism. The Lone Wolf only knew that the monk who had gone west to retrieve scriptures had been to Lumbini, and also that at least 30,000 Tibetan refugees had joined Nepalese nationality. The Lone Wolf had a premonition that he would meet again the fat Buddha he had let go.

  It's already September when I arrived in Nepal. From the conversation with the taxi driver, I learned that tomorrow is actually the most sacred festival in Nepal every year. On September 11th of each year, at Pashupatinath Temple in Kathmandu, Nepalese women will start from 3 am, wearing red traditional attire, to go to the Hindu holy site of Pashupatinath to cleanse their souls, worship gods and pray for good health of their husbands if they are married, or hope to find a satisfactory husband if they are unmarried girls, and live a happy life after marriage.

  The nerves were always in war mode, but in the Buddhist holy land of Lumbini, the body and mind seemed to have relaxed. He picked up the phone and called Dāozi to explain the grand plan for the next day. With Dāozi's playful heart also rising, they agreed to meet in Lumbini. Cánláng wandered aimlessly on the ancient, worn-out streets of Lumbini, looked up at the Himalayas stretching across the northern horizon, shook his head and found a small inn to stay in.

  That night, one of them holding a dog-leg knife and the other with chicken eyes, they rushed to the small inn where the Lone Wolf lived. The three brothers chatted for five hours, which quickly passed by. After glancing at the quartz clock on the wall that had already jumped to 2:30 in the morning, the three brothers rushed excitedly to the Paspatina Temple.

  In the dark of night, a knife led the way up to a three-story small building. Three people held high-powered binoculars and scanned the Nepalese girls dressed in their finest attire, their lively dance was very eye-catching.

  "Knife! Three o'clock direction! The man in a wheelchair!" The lone wolf who was holding the binoculars and scanning around finally found his target.

  The moment before, the knife that was still smiling and joking with the chicken eye suddenly focused its attention on finding a target. "Is this the guy you let go?" asked the chicken eye, looking at the fat man with crippled legs in the telescope with schadenfreude.

  "The revelry is over, follow him, let's go and take a look at the so-called Lihuo Mercenary Group." After giving the order, Lang Hu and Daozi climbed down along the balcony, leaving only Ji Yan to guide them in the direction of their target.

  "Chickpea, we've got a lock on the target, you can come over." Daozi said in a low voice into the intercom.

  In a temple, the two brothers of the residual wolf lurked in the corner to observe the suspicious points in the yard. Before long, Jiyanyan arrived at the hiding point with three MP5s and a package of clips on his back.

  "According to intelligence, their employer should be a high-ranking official in the French government. Since that's the case, let's give them some warnings..." The Lone Wolf finished speaking, and the three of them fell into silent, sinister smiles.

  An hour later, confirmed that the target had fallen asleep. The lone wolf raised his right hand and pointed to Chicken Eye, then pointed to a square door. Chicken Eye nodded and sneaked over quietly.

  Can Lang continued to point at the dagger and then pointed towards the gate of the courtyard. The dagger nodded in confirmation, after which Can Lang took out a silencer and screwed it onto the MP5. He nodded at Ji Yan, and the two slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  Blocking the chicken eye that wants to continue advancing, the wolf slowly squats down and sticks its head to the floor, observing slowly with the moonlight. Finally, three thin transparent silk threads appear in sight. The two exchange a glance and slowly dodge the alarm line on the ground.

  In a bedroom, three single beds had a man lying on each one. The chicken eye quietly approached the thickest-looking guy. A newly sharpened dog-leg knife slit open the man's neck artery and trachea as the chicken eye covered his mouth, blood gushing out of the neck artery making a rustling sound like wind blowing through wheat fields, the man on the bed didn't even have time to wake up before dying in his dream.

  A faint smell of blood wafted through the small bedroom, and the sound of dripping from the bloodstains on the bed onto the floor actually woke up the other two men! The lone wolf couldn't help but think that this was indeed a seasoned mercenary with extremely high vigilance.

  Before the opponent could pull out the pistol under the pillow, the Lone Wolf made two precise shots that hit the opponent's heart. After confirming there was no threat, the Lone Wolf turned on the light and began to observe the corpse, tearing open the opponent's combat uniform, and indeed saw the ribbon tattoo. Satisfied, he released his grip on the arm, and in a careless glance, the Lone Wolf noticed the opponent's backup gun pressed under the pillow.

  Move the deceased's head, and the wolf pulled out the gun. "Sig P210?!" The wolf's eyes were filled with excitement, this well-maintained P210 was obviously a genuine product of the last century, known as the aristocrat among handguns. Taking advantage of Chicken Eye's inattention, the wolf quickly threw his own Beretta M92FS onto the bed and then hastily inserted the P210 into the holster.

  The three brothers confirmed that there were no more enemies and packed their bags overnight to take a plane to Lhasa.