MMB Chapter 1547 Friends and Enemies
Chapter 1547 Friends and Enemies
Conference room at the Presidential Palace in Indonesia's capital.
The atmosphere was even more tense than before, almost suffocating, with an aura of impotent rage echoing in the office.
Just then, the conference room door opened again, and the chief representative of the law enforcement agency strode in. His uniform was somewhat disheveled, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, indicating he had clearly run all the way there.
"Report!" His voice stood out starkly in the silent conference room. "We went to see that general from Yan Kingdom."
The bald president abruptly raised his head, a hint of urgency flashing in his eyes: "How is it?"
The law enforcement representative swallowed hard, his face pale. "The other side... their attitude was extremely tough. They personally took action and arrested several of our compatriots."
"what?!"
A gasp rippled through the conference room. Some people jumped to their feet, their chairs overturning; others covered their mouths with their hands, their eyes wide with disbelief; still others instinctively took a half-step back, as if the Yan general were standing right in front of them.
"A general like him, coming here personally to be tough on us? And even personally arresting people?" The Minister of Defense's voice changed, filled with disbelief.
The law enforcement representative nodded with difficulty: "Yes. Our law enforcement team was blocked on the dock and couldn't get through at all. There weren't many of them, but each of them carried a kind of... indescribable aura. Especially that general, he was standing at the front, and just one glance from him, and our men didn't dare to move."
He wiped the sweat from his brow and continued, "We can only wait for your instructions now and dare not take any forceful measures. Those people... their eyes were terrifying, like they really would kill us."
Silence fell over the meeting room. Everyone looked at the bald president, awaiting his decision.
The president's fingers tapped lightly on the table, making a rhythmic sound. His brow was furrowed, and his gaze darted across the surface, clearly indicating an intense internal struggle. After a long while, he looked up at the foreign minister seated in the corner:
"What's the US's attitude now? What's their stance after our Seventh Fleet arrived?"
The Foreign Minister stood up and adjusted his glasses. His movements were slow, as if he were carefully choosing each word: "The United States indicated... they will not intervene proactively, but they can offer assistance."
"What the hell is this 'help'?" The president scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The United States has 'helped' so many other countries, who doesn't know what their so-called 'help' is? Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya... which one didn't fall into war and chaos after they 'helped' them?"
A few whispered agreement rang out in the conference room. Those sitting in this room were all shrewd individuals; they saw through the tricks of the United States all too well.
The Foreign Minister paused for a moment, then slowly spoke, his voice low and sincere: "Your Excellency, there's something I'm not sure if I should say."
"Speak," the president waved his hand.
The Foreign Minister took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind: "It is dangerous to be an enemy of the United States. It is equally dangerous to be a friend of the United States. We know this better than anyone else."
No one objected. Everyone present knew perfectly well that America's "friendship" was never free; behind it lay military bases, economic control, and political interference—an invisible rope that was tightening ever more.
The Foreign Minister continued, "Making enemies with Yan is certainly dangerous. We've already seen that—their cannons are pointed at us. But making friends with Yan..."
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the faces of everyone present, finally settling on the president: "If we make friends, the neighboring countries have all gained tangible benefits. Their infrastructure, trade, and investment are all visible and tangible. The way they treat their friends is completely different from what we have witnessed over the past few decades."
This statement was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples. No one refuted it, because it was the truth. Everyone present knew in their hearts that those countries that chose to cooperate with Yan had indeed developed and gained tangible benefits in recent years.
A subtle silence fell over the meeting room.
After a long silence, the bald president let out a long sigh. That sigh contained so much—helplessness, exhaustion, and a hint of relief. His shoulders slumped, and he seemed to age ten years in an instant.
“I agree to Yan’s request.” His voice was low and weary, as if he had used up all his strength. “Assist their retreat. Have our troops make way and do not obstruct them.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than a voice suddenly rang out: "Sir, you are opposing the United States! They have troops stationed in our country and can retaliate against us at any time!"
Everyone looked toward the source of the sound—a younger official, his face flushed, waving his arms excitedly.
The bald president slowly turned his head, his gaze falling on the man. There was no anger in his eyes, only a deep weariness and helplessness.
"They dare to arrest the head of state of a country." The president's voice was calm, eerily so. "Assange, Snowden, and those foreign leaders they wanted—weren't they all arrested at will? Have you ever considered whether you could withstand the artillery fire of Yan?"
The young official opened his mouth, but couldn't say a word.
The president's voice suddenly rose, erupting like a volcano: "Do you have the ability?! Do you?! If you think you can, then go and command now, go and intercept them now!"
He grabbed the teacup on the table and smashed it to the ground. The sound of shattering porcelain echoed in the conference room, shards flying everywhere, and brown tea splashed all over the place.
"If we can't even get past this hurdle, what are you all hesitating for?!" The president's roar echoed in the conference room, sending a chill down everyone's spine. "Yes, offending the United States is dangerous. But if we offend this general, we won't even have tomorrow!"
The conference room was completely silent, with only heavy breathing and the faint sound of wind coming from outside the window.
After a long silence, an aged voice rang out: "Chief, I think... we should meet with this General of Yan Kingdom first."
The speaker was an elderly man sitting in the corner. He was an advisor to the president and had experienced the ups and downs of the country.
The president paused for a moment, then slowly nodded.
……
Plaza pier.
The sea breeze howled, whipping up layers of waves that crashed against the stone steps of the dock, making a splashing sound. The air was filled with the salty smell of the sea and the distant acrid odor of burning vehicles from last night's conflict.
Chen Jun stood in the shadows of the dock, his brow furrowed. His gaze swept over the overseas Chinese gathered on the dock; there were far more people than he had expected—the elderly, children, middle-aged people carrying luggage, and several pregnant women. They huddled together, some eating, some talking in hushed tones, their faces etched with exhaustion and anxiety.
"No, there are too many people." Chen Jun whispered to the person next to him, "We must get them to the fleet as soon as possible. If this drags on, something might happen..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood the unspoken meaning.
In the distance, Fan Tiankeng was still negotiating with the law enforcement officers. He had a smile on his face, offered them cigarettes, and said all sorts of polite things. But Chen Jun could tell that the officers' patience was wearing thin.
At that moment, a middle-aged man in a Zhongshan suit walked through the crowd and slowly approached Chen Jun.
His steps were steady, his Zhongshan suit was impeccably pressed, and he maintained his dignity even in such a chaotic environment. His hair was neatly combed, and he wore a gentle smile, but behind that smile lay a composure that had weathered many storms.
He stopped in front of Chen Jun, bowed slightly, and said in fluent Mandarin, "Hello, my name is Tang Zhongzheng, and I am the chairman of the local Chinese Chamber of Commerce. I have something I would like to discuss with you."