Chapter 638 - 609 International Rescue

"At least now we can give the innocent a chance to escape Hell."

The King of Wakanda, T’Chaka, sighed softly. This was the only thing they could strive for now.

Honestly, he felt somewhat guilty. The enemy needed Somalia as a frontier, and so did the African Union. When the enemy came knocking, everyone needed a buffer zone.

Abdi, who had just finished a negotiation, was quite lively. Noticing this detail, he immediately said, "We are strong warriors. We know the price we have to pay."

Lille shook his head, "It’s good to have this awareness. I also believe your people have this awareness, but don’t always say such things, especially not in front of a third party. Saying it too often will make you think you were born to fight."

"But we..."

"As someone... who bears much hope, don’t fight for the sake of fighting or for the sake of hatred. It will make everyone’s life a tangled mess."

After Lille finished speaking, he looked at T’Chaka, "The ships can set sail today. We need to act quickly."

The final result was simple. A 21-day ceasefire, with both sides opening two ports as nodes for international humanitarian aid routes, implementing humanitarian aid, and transporting people to Europe.

But where to accept them?

Europe was already struggling with a serious refugee problem. Policies for refugee assistance had led to many protests, demonstrations, and discussions, many of which were quite extreme. So theoretically, no one wanted to accept refugees from one of the most pirate-affected regions in the world. They were all trouble.

However, in unnoticed corners, Lille had already finalized the rescue route with the European Union—

Lille would receive a batch of refugees in Latovia, where he already had a loyal group of about a hundred people, centered around Christopher, hiding in the mountains and constantly absorbing knowledge and experience.

Abdi snapped out of Lille’s earlier words and said gratefully, "Thank you, Mr. Lee. I don’t know how to repay you and all you’ve done."

"It’s not you who should repay," Lille said once again, somewhat disappointingly. "Citizens are not your property. I’m not a bank, and they’re not entirely pure-hearted individuals. You need to understand this."

This group would undergo brain-computer interface implantation surgery, using fairly coercive means to educate them and embrace a new life.

According to Lille’s plan, within three weeks, a total of 630,000 people were to be evacuated. Because the locals’ mindset and educational level were somewhat distant from modern society, even with brain-computer interfaces and solutions provided by educational experts from around the world, it was estimated that only about 30% could successfully acquire work skills and integrate into modern society in the short term.

This 30% would become the elite among the refugees, taking on roles such as sheriffs, engineering managers, doctors, government staff, and many other key positions in normal society, to guide others in integrating into a new environment.

As for the remaining 70%, if role models could not guide them and they still refused to integrate into society but preferred stealing and robbing, then legislation would follow, treating them according to modern societal methods.

However, regardless, a new organization—a group with recognition akin to a state—would be established. Not many would still consider themselves Somalis.

Lille’s twice disappointing words made Abdi pause, feeling like he was knocked down from the high status of a politician back to being a little pirate.

All his senses of mission and responsibility were suppressed.

Then he realized that Lille was right. His own thoughts were too... strange.

Citizens left the land for new lands; they would have their new lives. Rationally speaking, at that time, he should not have considered them his citizens, let alone resources.

But thinking this way, confusion resurfaced. What were they fighting for the country for if the people left were no longer theirs?

What did he and his country gain?

"I... I understand..."

"You should understand," Lille paused briefly, "they are indeed no longer somalis—many of them would certainly not choose to return to this war-torn land."

They accepted international aid and were no longer Somalis, but just as you fought bravely to resist attacks and secure a new life for them, one day, they would undoubtedly support you in return.

As I am not Somali either, yet I am here to help you. We help each other, not for—"

"Not for power, not for... the power to rule this country and have more power," Abdi suddenly replied.

"Correct," Lille nodded. "You understand."

This conversation deeply shook T’Chaka.

These were not words a child under twenty should have said!

For a moment, he felt like he saw an old man steadier than himself, expressing his hopes for future generations, all based on his life’s regrets and lessons.

In the royal family, T’Chaka looked at his son, T’Challa, who had also heard the conversation but felt unmoved.

Because he still couldn’t understand those feelings—

He was not yet a true ruler.

His eyes shone bright, always ready to take on the next task based on his father’s teachings. As a warrior, he stood ready, fulfilling his royal duty to protect his subjects.

But this task was to escort his people to become people of another place.

"...Gentlemen," T’Chaka interjected, "I hope... I hope the royal guard of Wakanda could escort the refugees, with my... son in charge."

Abdi was surprised, yet Lille nodded slightly, "If he agrees and you are sure, I don’t oppose."

"I agree. I am willing to escort them—" T’Challa immediately joined in the conversation, "It is my responsibility to take our people away from Hell. After all, we share responsibility for using them as a frontline."

"Good," confirmed Lille. "Let me explain the specific resettlement plan..."

The settlement would be in Latovia.

Locals of Latovia would act as guides, with the refugees as labor, to perform small-scale expansions there, establish the European branch of Atlas, conduct high-end research and production, and lay a foundation for good relations with the European Union.

However, all would be done discreetly, so Lille employed somewhat illegal means here:

Latovia was a monarchy, with the Grand Duke as the highest ruler. The local area remained in a pre-industrial revolution state, where people farmed in the mountains, wove by hand, and used natural fertilizers.

This led to a problem: the locals might know there were other countries outside, but they had never seen them.

Even the Grand Duke of Latovia might buy light weaponry, watches, and even sophisticated industrial goods like cars by taxing agriculture and people. But he was inherently a pauper, unable to maintain a large army, let alone normal diplomatic relations with major countries.

It’s a very closed-off mountainous region, caught in the strife of Eastern Europe but spared major warfare due to its isolation, yet insufficiently connected to the outside world.

The definition of national borders was quite vague.

Lille struck a highly secretive, unofficial agreement with some EU countries: Atlas Group’s European division would be established in Latovia’s empty mountains and receive their endorsement—

If territorial disputes arose in the future.

In exchange, Lille would sell them medical products and clean energy technology at low prices, alleviating their own problems.

Additionally, they would formally accept the refugees for a while, providing facilities and equipment, allowing Atlas Group personnel to conduct demonstrations and teach them the facilities’ operations.

This involved engaging in land deals with third-party organizations, which had some issues: how could you bypass the local leaders in land transactions?

But if you asked the local people about their Grand Duke, they would likely say: we would love to kill him."

Therefore, if conflicts arose, Lille would at most be an agitator.

That was the entire plan: moving from Africa to several European countries, eventually entering Latovia discreetly by land.

Not entirely confidential, but Lille didn’t think the opposition would focus on these refugees’ whereabouts.

As for T’Challa, if he wanted to uphold their royal traditions of Wakanda, what reason did Lille have to refuse?

"...That’s the entire plan," Lille pointed at the map at the center of the online meeting, looking at T’Challa. "Good luck and Godspeed, Prince."