Lightbulb was stunned. Glaring at Chen Ge, he almost blurted out, *Can you even live until Natasha finishes her PhD?* But the words caught in his throat as the realization dawned on him.
Chen Ge was turning her down indirectly—he didn't want to hold her back.
"Aren't you afraid of breaking Natasha's heart?"
"A little heartbreak now is better than a lifetime of misery, isn't it?"
Lightbulb frowned. "So what you're saying is, once your contract is up, you're going to renew it?"
"No way!"
Chen Ge swirled his beer and tipped his head back to take a couple of swigs.
"Then again, I'm not switching careers either. Aside from firing artillery, shooting guns, and killing people, I don't really have any other skills."
Lightbulb had no reply. That was the very dilemma he was facing himself. In the nine whole years since he enlisted, ninety-nine percent of his time had been spent in military camps and on the battlefield. He had grown accustomed to living with a gun by his side every day, lingering on the edge of hell.
When he went home on leave and lay in a warm, comfortable room, he actually felt out of place. He much preferred the hard wooden boards of a freezing, rudimentary barracks bunk—or slipping into a sleeping bag.
He lifted his bottle, took two heavy gulps, wiped his mouth, and asked, "Are you heading to another PMC? Or going freelance? An assassin, maybe?"
Chen Ge didn't plan to tell Lightbulb about his idea of starting a PMC, nor did he intend to drag Lightbulb into it.
"Haven't really thought it through yet. Your contract is up next April, right? How much do you have saved? Enough to buy an apartment? If you're short, I can lend you some."
At the mention of buying property, Lightbulb's face contorted in agony.
He had planned to buy an apartment at the beginning of the year, but after looking into it, he sadly discovered that all the hard-earned blood money he had risked his life for in Syria would, at best, buy a hundred-square-meter place in Moscow.
"I've got five hundred thousand dollars saved up. Enough for a smaller place."
"How much is it per square meter?"
"Five hundred thousand rubles a square meter. Converted to Huaxia RMB, that's about thirty-eight thousand. I don't really plan on settling down in Moscow anyway. Natasha wants to study abroad at Peking University in your country, so I'm thinking about tagging along with her."
Chen Ge gave him a strange look. *Is this guy thinking about finding a Huaxia wife and emigrating there?*
Lightbulb was good-looking and well-built. Apart from moderate smoking and drinking, he had no bad habits. He was upright and resolute, spoke fluent English, and had six years in Signal Flag plus three years in Wagner under his belt. With all that combat experience, landing a well-paying bodyguard job in Huaxia would be a breeze—and finding a wife would be even easier.
"Not a bad idea. Huaxia has a huge demand for high-end security personnel. With your resume and skills, you could easily pull in at least three hundred thousand a year as a bodyguard—after taxes!"
At that figure, Lightbulb's eyes lit up.
"Oh? What does three hundred thousand RMB after taxes get you in Huaxia?"
"Middle-class. As long as you don't splurge, you'll live very comfortably."
Lightbulb rubbed his hands together like a fly, his heart pounding. He made up his mind right then and there to build a future in Huaxia, and seized the chance to urge Chen Ge to return with him.
"Brother, come back to Huaxia with me! Return to your homeland! With your abilities, I know you could easily pull in a million a year. It might not be as much as you make in Wagner, but it's nowhere near as dangerous as the battlefield..."
Chen Ge waved a hand to cut him off, a storm of mixed emotions brewing inside.
Self-mockery? Helplessness? Uncertainty?
Go home? He would love to go home, but what home did he have left?
"Let's drop the subject. If we live until our contracts run out, then we can plan for the future. I'm going to hit the head. Call Big Bear and the others over. We'll take a walk through the black market and pick up some gear to keep us alive."
Chen Ge tossed aside the sunflower seeds in his hand, stood up, and clapped the salt and dust off his palms. Grabbing the cigarettes off the table, he tossed one to Lightbulb, stuck one in his own mouth, lit it, and walked into the bathroom to take a dump.
Sitting on the toilet, he unlocked his phone. Lin Xiyue had sent dozens of messages. Her tone had been normal at first, but seeing that he wasn't replying, she had grown increasingly irritable.
L: *Chen Dachui, you have sixty seconds to reply, or I'm posting your ugly photos in our village WeChat group.*
*Hiss... That vicious?*
Chen Ge felt a bit wary of Lin Xiyue, this unhinged woman with a split personality. She was genuinely crazy enough to do it.
C: *Natasha's older brother just came over to talk to me. I wasn't ignoring you on purpose.*
L: *Uh-huh. Let's get back to what we were discussing earlier. I'm telling you right now—very seriously, very earnestly, and with absolute certainty—that I still want to be your partner.*
Chen Ge had a pounding headache. Once you got tangled up with a lunatic whose mental state was this terrifyingly unhinged, shaking her off was practically impossible—unless you fled into the deep mountains and lived like a savage.
After pondering for a long while, he realized that letting Lin Xiyue join wasn't out of the question either. She could contribute technical sweat equity without ever having to set foot on the battlefield.
C: *If you want in, we need three rules of engagement. One: Obey my orders. Two: Obey all my orders. Three: Unconditionally obey every single order I give. Big or small, you report everything to me, and you don't do a thing without my approval. Agree to these three terms, and you're in.*
L: *Mmhmm... If I'm on my period and need to run to the supermarket to buy pads, do I need to report that to you too?*
C: *Goddammit, you believe I won't come back to Moscow right now and string you up for a beating?*
L: *Look at you, getting all worked up again. It was a joke! Fine, fine, fine. Three rules it is—all actions follow orders. How many shares do I get?*
C: *Ten percent!*
L: *Heh... When words fail you, you really just have to laugh. Who the hell do you think you're brushing off, a beggar? I'm wearing multiple hats here—even a donkey on a commune wouldn't work harder than me! And you're only offering ten percent? Capitalists would weep and Jews would drop to their knees at that kind of exploitation! I want twenty percent. Not a fraction less.*
A knowing smile touched Chen Ge's lips as he typed back at lightning speed.
C: *Fine. Seeing as we grew up in the same village, twenty percent it is.*
A massive steal! An absolute jackpot! With this nuclear-powered donkey handling intelligence, HR, logistics, accounting, business development, and cybersecurity... how much overhead would he save?
L: *That's more like it. Alright, starting today, we're brothers eating out of the same pot. You owe me twenty percent of your wages and bonuses.*
C: *Are you off your meds again? On what grounds?*
L: *Meds my ass. I can provide you with intel support. Of course, you're free to turn it down.*
Chen Ge considered it for half a second before deciding he definitely wanted it. Only an idiot would say no.
C: *Deal. But infiltrating Ukrainian military networks to gather intel can only be done if you can guarantee your own safety. If not, I can terminate our partnership at any time.*
L: *Hiss... Nothing's more terrifying than sudden tenderness. I'm falling for you. Brother Dachui, want to date? How about becoming my master?*
Chen Ge felt his scalp tingle with dread. *What kind of demon spawn is she?*
C: *Could you act normal for five seconds? You're creeping me out!*
L: *Look at you being such a wimp. Forget it then. Don't worry, I value my life way too much—if there's any real risk, I won't touch it!*
L: *If you're heading to the Donetsk black market for gear, I recommend checking out this old Russian guy's shop: No. 47 Artyom Street, Voroshilovsky District. It's an old street-front hardware store. He has top-tier gear from all over the world, but his prices are highway robbery!*
L: *Then again, you get what you pay for. Being able to buy genuine, top-quality gear in Donetsk is worth paying a premium.*
L: *When you get there, just give him the passphrase: Николай I был дураком.*
*Nicholas I was a fool?*
Now that was a peculiar passphrase!
Chen Ge guessed the old man had to have a deep hatred for Nicholas I.
Chapter 31