Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1310 Yusuf: A Different Person Now
At 6 p.m., Song Heping and Samir arrived at a relatively secluded villa area in the Green Zone in an unmarked SUV.

Security here is much tighter than in other parts of the Green Zone, with private armed guards outside each villa.

The car stopped in front of the third villa.

The villa's main gate was made of heavy solid wood, with an armed guard standing on each side.

After Song Heping gave his name, the guard immediately asked for instructions through his earpiece, and in less than a minute, the gate opened from the inside.

The man who opened the door was a slightly overweight man in his forties, dressed in an exquisite Arabian robe. Upon seeing Song Heping, his face immediately lit up with an exaggeratedly enthusiastic smile, and he opened his arms to greet him.

"Song! My brother! God bless me, I've finally seen you again!"

Yusuf gave Song Heping a firm hug and patted him hard on the back.

"We haven't seen each other in a long time, five years, right? No, six years! You don't look any different!"

Song Heping smiled and responded to the hug: "You've changed quite a bit, Yusuf. Now I should call you 'Your Excellency the Speaker'."

"Hey, what chairman or not, in front of you, I'll always be that little section chief who rummaged through the old warehouse with you!"

Yusuf laughed heartily, his gaze shifting to Samir behind Song Heping, his smile widening even further. "Samir! My dear cousin! You've come too! That's wonderful! Come in, come in, everyone!"

Yusuf's enthusiasm was almost overflowing.

He held Song Heping's hand with one hand and tried to take Samir's hand with the other, but Samir subtly avoided it, simply nodding and saying stiffly, "I can walk by myself."

Yusuf's hand paused in mid-air, his smile undiminished: "The same as always, huh? It's alright, it's alright, come in and we'll talk."

The villa's interior luxury contrasts sharply with its understated exterior.

Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, hand-woven Persian carpets, antique weapons and oil paintings hanging on the walls...

This mansion showcases the owner's current wealth and status in every detail.

The air was filled with the scent of expensive agarwood incense, a stark contrast to the dusty smell of the streets of Baghdad.

Yusuf led the two to the restaurant.

A long table, large enough to seat twenty people, was now set with only three sets of tableware. The table was already laden with a sumptuous feast: whole roasted lamb, spiced chicken stew, saffron rice, stuffed eggplant, grape leaf rolls, various salads and dipping sauces, as well as flatbread and freshly baked naan.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I prepared a little of everything."

Yusuf personally pulled out chairs for the two of them.

"Sit down, sit down! Don't be shy at home!"

The three of them took their seats.

Yusuf clapped his hands, and a servant dressed in traditional clothing quietly entered and poured black tea for everyone.

"Let's eat first! Let's eat and chat!"

Yusuf greeted them warmly, tearing off a piece of lamb chop for himself first. "This lamb was just delivered from Anbar province yesterday, freshly slaughtered!"

Song Heping politely took a bite, and it did taste quite good.

Samir seemed a bit reserved, and simply ate some rice and vegetables.

After a few bites of food, the atmosphere relaxed a little. Yusuf wiped his mouth and finally got to the point: "Song, you said on the phone that you had something important to discuss. Is it about Samir?"

As he spoke, his gaze drifted to Samir beside him.

Song Heping put down his cutlery and said directly, "Yes. I want you to push through a bill in parliament to include Samir's 'Liberation Forces' in the government army, giving them formal status and pay."

Yusuf's smile faded slightly, revealing the cautious expression typical of a politician: "This... Song, as you know, the situation in parliament is complicated. The Kold'd people certainly won't agree to the formalization of another local militia, and some Sunni members of parliament will also oppose it. A lot of work will need to be done..."

“Yusuf,” Song Heping interrupted him, his tone calm but carrying an undeniable force, “How many years have we known each other?”

Yusuf paused, then said, "Ten...twelve years, I suppose."

“Twelve years ago, you were a junior manager in the supplies department. I was the one who helped you resell the old equipment in the warehouse, and you helped me build connections with the government. We helped each other, and that's how we got to where we are today,” Song Heping said slowly, looking directly at Yusuf.

“I always speak directly—this is not only helping me, but also helping yourself.”

Yusuf's expression turned serious: "What do you mean?"

Song Heping leaned forward, his voice low but clear: "You are now the vice speaker, which seems glamorous on the surface. But you know best how many people in the parliament truly take you seriously? Which of those veteran politicians doesn't have tribal armed forces behind them? The Kold have 'Dare Warriors,' some high-ranking officials in the south have their own militias, and even some Sunni members of parliament have the support of tribal elders."

Yusuf frowned but did not refute.

What do you rely on?

Song Heping continued, "Relying on your little bit of money and connections to get things done? Yusuf, although I'm not involved in Baghdad politics, I understand it. Without military power, your position as deputy speaker is just an empty shell. People are polite to you on the surface because you still have some resources at your disposal."

He paused, then added, “But if one day the situation changes, or if greater interests emerge, you, as a vice speaker without any backing, could be ousted at any time.”

These words clearly struck a nerve with Yusuf.

Although Song Heping was not in Bakhta, he seemed to know a lot about what was going on there.

His expression changed slightly, and his fingers unconsciously rubbed the teacup.

Song Heping continued, "But if you have Samir's support, the situation will be completely different. The 'Liberation Forces' now control over 400 kilometers of border, with nearly 10,000 armed men, all of whom are veterans who have seen real combat. Everyone has witnessed their recent achievements. If this force is incorporated into the government army, you will be their political backer. At that time, who in parliament will dare not give you face? Those tribal armed members of parliament will have to think twice before giving you face."

Yusuf's eyes began to light up.

Song Heping knew he had hit the nail on the head.

“To put it another way,” Song Heping’s voice lowered, “do you only want to be a deputy speaker? Yusuf, you’re only forty-six years old this year, the prime of your political career. With the support of the military, it’s not impossible for you to run for prime minister in the future.”

The word "Prime Minister" struck Yusuf's heart like a heavy hammer.

His breathing became noticeably rapid, and his eyes gleamed with naked ambition.

"But……"

Yusuf licked his lips, his gaze falling once again on Samir beside him.

"Would my dear cousin Samir be willing? I mean... my cousin..."

Samir looked up, his expression complex.

Hearing Song Heping's analysis, he felt a surge of emotions.

He truly looked down on slippery politicians like Yusuf, and despised the so-called tribal interest representatives and officials in Bakhta's political circles.

These people have no bones.

When Saddam Hussein was around, they were his dogs. When the Americans came, they continued to be his dogs.

But Song Heping was right—without legitimate political status, his troops would forever remain militia, never receiving proper supplies or recognition.

His soldiers shed blood and sacrificed their lives on the front lines, yet they didn't even receive a formal title.

Now, following Song Heping, things are going quite well for them.

But will he have to depend on Song Heping for the rest of his life?
How do others perceive me?
How do you see yourself?
"Samir."

Song Heping also turned to him, his expression very serious.

“Think about it too. What is your army relying on to sustain itself now? It relies on the equipment I provide, the covert support from the Persians, and the supplies captured from 1515. But none of these are stable. If the ‘Liberation Forces’ can be incorporated into the government army, your soldiers will receive regular military pay, have access to military hospitals when wounded, and receive compensation when killed in action. More importantly, they and their families will receive recognition and respect from the country.”

Samir clenched his fists tightly.

Every point Song Heping made struck a chord with him.

Countless times, he watched wounded soldiers die in agony due to lack of medical care; countless times, he had to explain to the families of fallen soldiers why they did not receive state compensation; countless times, he heard his men complain that, since they were all fighting in 1515, why did Kold's "Daredevil" receive government salaries while they were left unattended like wild children.

"and……"

Song Heping continued, "If you had a formal military rank, like a division commander or something, and maybe even a major general, you'd have a say in the Ministry of National Defense. You'd be qualified to participate in how the defense of the northwest border is arranged, and how the strategy to deal with 1515 is formulated. Isn't that much better than being a 'militia leader' right now?"

Samir took a deep breath and looked at Yusuf.

Their eyes met in the air.

Blood ties are there, but more importantly, there is a convergence of interests.

"Cousin..."

Yusuf spoke first, his tone sincere: "I know you look down on people like me who play power games in Baghdad. You think we politicians are all talk and no action, and don't care about the lives of soldiers on the front lines. But have you ever thought about what if we cooperated in different positions?"

He stood up, walked over to Samir, and placed his hand on his shoulder:
"You lead troops on the front lines, and I'll fight for you in Baghdad. You protect the borders, and I'll ensure your credit isn't stolen. We cousins ​​working together, one skilled in strategy and the other in action, is a match made in heaven!"

Samir remained silent for a long time.

The only thing left in the restaurant was the sizzling sound of lamb being grilled over hot coals.

Finally, Samir looked up at Song Heping: "Boss, do you think this is feasible? If it is, I'll listen to you."

Song Heping nodded: "This is the best option right now. Yusuf needs the support of the military to consolidate his political position, and you need a political backer to fight for the legitimacy and resources of the troops. You are cousins, related by blood, which is stronger than any political alliance."

He then looked at Yusuf:
"As for the work in the parliament, I believe that with your current connections and methods, you should be able to find a breakthrough. With the Kold'd people, you can reach a compromise through negotiations—for example, by promising that the 'Liberation Forces' will not enter the Kurdish region. With the Sunni members of parliament, you can promise to give their constituencies a larger share in future reconstruction projects in Anbar province and other areas."

Yusuf smiled, this time a genuinely relaxed and confident smile: "Song, you're still the same as before, calculating everything perfectly. Alright, I'll take this! But..."

He looked at Samir and said, “Cousin, you’ll have to cooperate with me too. You might need to give a few speeches in parliament and do some media interviews. You need to show those gentlemen that the ‘Liberation Forces’ is a professional and disciplined force, not some kind of messy militia.”

Samir did not directly refuse this time, but said: "My troops are fighting the 1515 militants every day, and people are dying every day. We are not good at putting on a show."

“There’s no need for a show,” Yusuf said earnestly. “We just need to let the outside world see the truth. I will arrange for a few reliable journalists to go to the front lines to interview and capture some real footage. Sometimes, the truth is the best propaganda.”

He worried that Samir would be offended by these things, and emphasized, "These are the rules of the game in politics. I know you don't like this kind of thing, but you have to abide by them. Nobody likes a player who doesn't follow the rules."

Song Heping raised his teacup: "Then it's settled. Yusuf will be responsible for pushing the bill through Baghdad, and Samir will cooperate by doing the superficial work. I will coordinate relations between the Americans and the Kold'd to ensure this succeeds."

The three of them toasted each other with tea instead of wine.

The atmosphere became noticeably more harmonious in the latter half of dinner.

Yusuf recounted with great enthusiasm the various inside stories he had heard in parliament, including which members of parliament might support him, which ones needed to be bribed, and which ones could be used to divide and weaken each other.

Samir still doesn't talk much, but at least he'll occasionally chime in with specific questions.

It was already 9 p.m. when dinner was over.

Yusuf personally escorted the two to the door. As they were about to part, he took Song Heping's hand and whispered, "Song, don't worry, I will definitely get this done. But... you also need to put in some effort with General Duke. If the Americans support it, those fence-sitters in Congress will switch sides."

“I will handle it.” Song Heping nodded. “You need to act quickly. The situation could change at any time, and we need to get these things done before the next storm arrives.”

"understand!"

Yusuf nodded emphatically, then looked at Samir: "Cousin, take care. The front lines are dangerous, so be careful. Once this is done, I'll personally visit your troops!"

Samir nodded, his tone softening this time: "You be careful too, Baghdad... isn't safe either."

On the way back, Samir looked out the window at the Baghdad night view and suddenly said, "I still don't like him. But you're right, we need him."

Song Heping didn't look out the window, but simply leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed: "That's how politics is. Sometimes you have to cooperate with people you don't really like. What matters is the goal, not personal likes or dislikes."

"Do you think this can work?" Samir asked.

“Seventy percent certain.” Song Heping opened his eyes. “Youssef has the motivation, I have the pressure, and Duke needs us to maintain stability in the Northwest. These three forces combined are enough to move this forward. However…”

"But what?"

"But you should be prepared."

Song Heping looked at Samir, “Once the ‘Liberation Forces’ are incorporated into the government army, you will be more than just a military commander. You will enter the political chessboard of Baghdad, more eyes will be watching you, and more people will want to win you over or bring you down. The swords and spears on the battlefield are visible, but the swords and spears in the political arena are invisible. This path may be more dangerous than fighting on the front lines.”

Samir paused for a moment, then said firmly, "I fear nothing as long as my soldiers get what they deserve, and as long as I can make my country better."

The convoy drove towards the hotel.

They will return to Baiji early tomorrow morning.

But this trip to Baghdad has already thrown a new stone into the turbulent political landscape of Ilig.

The handover of power in Hurmatu, the formalization of the "Liberation Forces," tentative contacts with the new US commander, the alliance between Yusuf and Samir's cousins...

Everything is subtly altering the balance of power within Ilig.

In Titrick, Ahmed is reorganizing his troops; in Raqqa, the top brass is fiercely debating the next strategic move; and in Tehran and Moscow, policymakers are reassessing the situation in northern Iligo.

How long can this fragile balance last?

No one knows the answer.

But Song Heping knew that he had to seize the time to consolidate everything he had already achieved before the next storm arrived.

Even greater challenges await in the North.

　Fourth update! More updates to come!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)