“What’s the point of them making a fuss when their master is dead?” Daly couldn’t understand.

"General Daly, you don't understand Chinese culture, let alone their character."

Hileck gestured for Daly to sit down, then picked up a cigarette from the table.

“These people, you could say they have no backbone, they really have no backbone. Every era has its share of traitors and lackeys.”

"But there are always some who are not afraid of death, who regard righteousness and loyalty as their faith, and who go forward without hesitation even if they know that the final outcome is death."

Daly frowned: "These guys are just a bunch of tougher gangsters, what a load of rubbish about loyalty!"

"Don't underestimate the gangs. Anyone who knows a little about Chinese history knows that there was a dynasty whose emperor rose to power through the gangs."

Hilack lit the cigarette in his mouth and exhaled a puff of smoke:

"This world is never just one color; there is black before there is white. Strictly speaking, our Western national institutions have a bit of a mafia feel to them, such as parliaments."

"By the way, what's the situation in the Alps? Is there anything unusual at Strategic Underground Base No. 2?"

"President, please rest assured, our people are watching Base 2 closely, and the security is extremely tight," Daly replied.

"That's good. Don't be careless. The situation is turbulent. Although Lin Dong is gone, the Dragon Gang is still around."

"clear."

As the two were talking, the red telephone on the president's desk suddenly rang urgently.

Daly glanced at it, his expression changing: "It's an urgent military intelligence informant!"

At the same time, the classified satellite phone in his pocket also vibrated and started ringing.