As Chen Zhennan spoke, he mounted his horse with agile movements.

His warhorse neighed, as if sensing its master's determination and courage.

Beside Chen Zhennan, Song Yunyang followed closely behind, her eyes shining with determination. She knew that the upcoming meeting would be an important negotiation concerning the future.

The two rode side by side, the sound of their hooves echoing across the empty battlefield like the lingering echo of war drums, slowly making their way towards the Jewish cult's camp.

Behind them, the special forces soldiers began to retreat in an orderly manner, their figures casting long shadows in the setting sun, like a group of warriors returning from hell.

Upon arriving at the Jewish cult's camp, Chen Zhennan and Song Yunyang were stopped by a group of demoralized guards.

The guards' eyes no longer held their previous fervor and arrogance; instead, they were filled with a deep fear and unease.

Chen Zhennan said calmly, "Tell Greenberg that Chen Zhennan is visiting." His voice was calm yet powerful, like an ancient bell in the deep mountains, piercing through the guards' defenses.

The guards looked at each other in bewilderment. Finally, one of the guards, who seemed to be the leader, reluctantly went to report.

Soon, Greenberg appeared at the camp gate, his face gloomy and his eyes flashing with complex emotions.

He looked at Chen Zhennan and Song Yunyang and said in a hoarse voice, "Chen Zhennan, you have won, but this war is far from over."

Night fell, the stars were sparse, and the atmosphere in the Judaism camp was tense and heavy. Greenberg's words were like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples.

He insisted that the war was not over yet. Upon hearing this, Chen Zhennan's face immediately revealed a cold smile, as piercing and chilling as the winter wind.

He reached into his waistband and drew his pistol swiftly and decisively, aiming it steadily at Greenberg's forehead. The dark muzzle looked particularly eerie in the dim light.

“I’ve seen countless stubborn people, and you, Greenberg, are one of the best. But whether you want your life or not depends on your attitude.”

Chen Zhennan's voice was deep and powerful, each word striking Greenberg's heart like a heavy hammer.

His eyes revealed an unquestionable authority, as if he held the power of life and death.

Upon hearing Chen Zhennan's words, a glimmer of hope instantly ignited in Greenberg's eyes, as if he had seen a ray of light in despair.

His voice trembled slightly as he asked urgently, "Chen Zhennan, what kind of attitude do you want?"

His eyes were filled with a longing for life, as if at this moment, all pride and self-esteem had been cast aside.

Chen Zhennan couldn't help but chuckle, his laughter tinged with contempt and mockery. He retorted to Greenberg, "Do I need to remind you what attitude I want? That's up to you. If you show the attitude I like, then you'll live."

His words carried a playful tone, as if he were enjoying the power to control the life and death of others.

This was a bit difficult for Greenberg. He was filled with doubt and unease. How could he possibly know what attitude Chen Zhennan wanted?

His mind was in turmoil, filled with countless thoughts.

He coughed, his voice tinged with pain and helplessness. Greenberg gritted his teeth, enduring the gunshot wound in his leg, and slowly knelt down before Chen Zhennan.

His knees slammed heavily onto the cold ground with a dull thud; his movements, though slow, were filled with heaviness and humiliation.

"Chen Zhennan, you win."

Greenberg's voice was low and hoarse, and his eyes held a hint of resentment and despair, as if at this moment he had finally realized his defeat.

His head hung low; his former arrogance and confidence had been completely shattered, replaced by a deep sense of powerlessness.

Chen Zhennan stood in front of him, his figure casting a long shadow under the light, like a victor examining his spoils.

There was no trace of sympathy in his eyes, only a deep indifference.

He knew that the outcome of the war was already decided, and Greenberg's surrender was only a matter of time.

Chen Zhennan nodded slightly, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes, as if he were admiring a work of art.

His voice was calm yet powerful, carrying an unquestionable authority: "Greenberg, you have finally made the wise choice."

His words revealed a victor's tolerance, but also concealed a hint of ruthless decisiveness.

Upon hearing Chen Zhennan's words, Greenberg's eyes flashed with fear. He widened his eyes and asked urgently, "Chen Zhennan, what do you mean by that?"

His voice trembled slightly, as if he had already sensed his impending fate. His heart was filled with unease, as if it were being tightly gripped by an invisible hand.

Just then, Song Yunming appeared out from behind Chen Zhennan like a ghost, his eyes filled with a cold smile, as piercing and chilling as the winter wind.

His voice carried a hint of sarcasm: "My brother-in-law is satisfied, but I am not. Greenberg, I remember saying an hour ago that I would make you paralyzed for the rest of your life. I will not kill you, but you will live in pain forever, bearing the humiliation of today's defeat."

His words revealed a deep hatred and a sense of vengeful pleasure.

After saying that, Song Yunming reached out and took a submachine gun from one of his teammates. His movements were swift and decisive, like a cheetah pouncing on its prey.

He held the submachine gun in one hand and decisively pulled the trigger towards Greenberg's legs.

A barrage of gunfire erupted like a storm, countless bullets striking Greenberg's legs, splattering blood and eliciting heart-wrenching screams.

After the magazine was empty, Greenberg's legs were a bloody mess, completely shattered by bullets.

He collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain, his face ashen and covered in cold sweat. His eyes were filled with fear and despair, as if he could already see his tragic future.

Chen Zhennan showed no pity for Greenberg, because this was the retribution he deserved.

“Greenberg, you lost tens of thousands of people in this battle. I have never taught anyone such a harsh lesson. Now, I am taking them home. If you still want to die, I guarantee that your Jewish cult will be completely wiped out from this world.”

After saying that, Chen Zhennan slowly turned around, holding Song Yunyang with one hand and Song Yunming with the other, ignoring Greenberg's pig-like screams, and rushed back towards the border.

"Yunyang, Yunming, we should go home. The war is over."

Song Yunyang glanced at Chen Zhennan, then at Song Yunming, and said nothing more. She gently followed Chen Zhennan's steps, gradually moving away from this land of death.