Mo An's bones were certainly hard, so his persistence almost forced Fang Senyan to violate his own principle of not harming women and children—even though these women and children could skillfully use an AK to take down ten men.

Fortunately, Fang Senyan quickly managed to shift the pressure onto Mo An. In the eyes of the others, the deaths of their relatives were almost always largely Mo An's fault. So, when Fang Senyan shot and killed the seventeenth man, his wife stepped forward, screaming wildly:

“You should have started with Mo An’s family first, his wife, son, father, brothers!! Why shouldn't this bastard be punished first?”

Fang Senyan’s eyes lit up:

“Good idea, but I don't know those people… Oh, you must be quite familiar with them.”

Fang Senyan, with supreme shamelessness, used only the pronouns "you" and "them," successfully driving a wedge between Mo An and his kinsmen.

Next, Mo An’s “nine generations” were selected, not even sparing the men with whom he had had sexual relations…

Not everyone could watch their loved ones die before them without flinching. Mo An’s nerves seemed exceptionally tough, but after seeing six people die, he finally felt he was reaching his breaking point.

Though the threat posed by the Zandala tribe in Benghazi was immense, it was at least not immediate. Mo An now deeply regretted his attempt to extort money. He now realized that sum of money was almost like a piece of burning coal, no, like magma—so hot to handle.

After the seventh person—Mo An’s favorite younger brother—died, he finally screamed out:

“Stop! Stop! I’ll tell you everything! Tell you everything you want to know!”

Fang Senyan smiled:

“Isn't that much better? Look, I offered you three times the price, yet you still dragged your feet. If I had known this earlier, why go through all the trouble of meeting you at that shop and haggling? Why did so many people have to die, and why did we waste so much time?”

Mo An ground his teeth:

“That's because you don't know the cruelty of the Zandala tribe! They are a bunch of lunatics!”

Fang Senyan hit the nail on the head:

“Since you don't want to do it—or rather, you don't dare—why did you take my money in the first place?”

Mo An was instantly struck dumb. He lacked the nerve to admit he simply wanted to scam him out of a sum of money. Fang Senyan chuckled:

“See? It’s all your fault. You underestimated my capability. You tried to deceive me, but you simply failed to realize one thing: why would I possibly not be much more terrifying than the Zandala tribe?”

Mo An froze. His rational mind told him this was absolutely impossible. How could a small group contend with the Zandala tribe, which reportedly had an entire population of 170,000 and possessed Apaches and missiles? But Fang Senyan gave him no time to dwell; he went straight to the point:

“I’m giving you ten seconds to hand over the information I’ve already paid for…” Given the lesson learned from Mo An, Fang Senyan and his team had no intention of completing the mission peacefully. The Zandala tribe in Benghazi had virtually usurped the functions of government in the region, and their savagery was enough to frighten infants into silence.

Thus, the item Fang Senyan and his group sought—the Nigerian Chokwe Gold Mask—was sitting brazenly on the desk of the tribal leader, Zandala.

Although for an ordinary person, retrieving that artifact would require navigating N checkpoints and N high-level anti-theft mechanisms—making it almost an impassable, terrifying chasm—it didn't seem as difficult for Fang Senyan and his team as one might imagine.

“The only intelligence we have now is that the target object is on the desk of the tribal leader, Zandala. And the Zandala Tower where he resides is a modern skyscraper covering over 60,000 square meters, containing a damned seven thousand rooms!” Fang Senyan sighed:

“Beyond that, we are completely in the dark—we don't know the layout of that cursed place, we don't know the configuration of the security mechanisms inside, we don't know the relevant firing positions, and we don't even know what is special about this Chokwe Gold Mask. This is not good news, and what’s worse is that we are currently running out of time! Let’s all share our thoughts.”

Reef made a concise gesture for a "full-frontal assault."

Zi’s opinion was to split up, moving in four separate columns. They should easily be able to acquire a complete list of the core cadres within the Zandala tribe. Then, three people could assassinate the underlings to create chaos, while Fang Senyan pushed straight for the center to handle the main objective.

Hearing Zi’s plan, Fang Senyan could only offer a wry smile. Zi trusted him too much. But Fang Senyan knew himself well enough to know he wasn't suited for that kind of infiltration work. Even if he managed to charge in, escaping might be uncertain, especially with Loki and Fu sticking close like thorns in his side! Undertaking such a mission under those circumstances carried too great a risk.

Fang Senyan suddenly felt a strong longing for Ronnie from the planet Uprose. If that guy were by his side, everything would become as simple as a red-hot dinner knife slicing through butter.

As for whether Ronnie would personally be willing to undertake the task, Fang Senyan didn't bother considering it. If he was willing, that was great; if not, a few kicks would naturally sort things out… For some inexplicable reason, although Ronnie was stubborn and willful in his actions, he was quite susceptible to the military methods of corporal punishment between superiors and subordinates.

Sanzai suggested using the power of the Kurut fruit to dig a tunnel in, but the core problem remained the inability to pinpoint the location. Fang Senyan and his team couldn't even find the study where the Chokwe Gold Mask was kept; what use was digging a tunnel then?

At this point, Old Charlie proposed a plan. From beginning to end, this plan was filled with devious, sideways maneuvers, and of course, large-scale death. But its effect was extremely pronounced: it could unbelievably cause the Zandala tribe to voluntarily deliver the Chokwe Gold Mask. Fang Senyan listened, fell silent for a moment, and then nodded.

In the scorching heat of Africa, the vast majority of people had a habit of napping, as the tropical sun was particularly fierce in the afternoon hours, leading them to seek refuge in cool shade to escape the sun’s power.

Fang Senyan and his team arrived in Benghazi at 11:00 AM, less than an hour before the time for mass siesta.

Then... the demon Freddy, who had advanced with the help of the two freaks, Professor X and Jean, walked into people’s dreams with a cackle... To be precise, he walked into the dreams of the people residing in Zandala Tower. At this moment, Freddy could simultaneously enter the dreamscapes of twenty individuals!

These twenty people died completely within one to seven minutes. Even with the most advanced medical means, the only conclusion would be "cardiac arrest."

Then the demon Freddy began selecting the next batch of victims.

In just half an hour, the number of people who died from "cardiac arrest" reached an astonishing one hundred and ten, after which Freddy withdrew. However, before stopping, he still entered the dreams of thirty more people, inducing and influencing them. The dreams of these thirty individuals were all different, yet they shared one clear commonality: the Chokwe Gold Mask, and before the dream ended, this mask attempted to slaughter them in the manner they most feared…

One could imagine the terrifying uproar this would cause within the Zandala Tower, which was usually as solid as a single iron plate.

One hundred and ten corpses of various positions, genders, and completely random relationships with each other.

Thirty terrified witnesses, of various positions, genders, and completely random relationships with each other.

The Chokwe Gold Mask instantly transformed into a demonic holy relic.

But the stubborn Old Zandala was extremely resolute in refusing the will of the people. In fact, he had done this kind of thing many times before; the stubbornness of the elderly was harder than uncarved granite, so how could he possibly change course for a mere hundred-plus lives?

Therefore… the second wave of death descended. Since they missed the natural opportunity of the afternoon rest, the number of fatalities this time dropped to forty, but the list of the dead now included the name of the current Old Zandala. Eleven people, on the verge of mental collapse from terror, simultaneously testified that the Chokwe Gold Mask had attempted to kill them in the most horrific way possible in their dreams.

This time, the entire tower descended into chaos. This was not only due to the confusion caused by the mask-induced deaths but also the vacuum of power resulting from the instantaneous loss of control!

Old Zandala’s physical condition was excellent right up until his death. Although he was fifty-eight, there were no indications that he couldn't live to eighty-eight or even ninety-eight. Consequently, the power beneath him was distributed quite evenly among several of his sons.

This meant four words: Division, civil strife.

Fang Senyan and his group entered Zandala Tower under the guise of doctors. The guards at the entrance were practically non-existent, and as they walked inside, they could even hear the sounds of gunfire. Up to this point, Fang Senyan and his team still didn't know the exact location of the Chokwe Gold Mask, but they were certain that after everything that had happened, someone would eagerly guide them there.

“Hey, you! Infected person!” Reef grabbed a woman nearby, his voice urgent: “I am a member of the UN Health Organization! I heard that terrifying killer virus has appeared here too. Quickly take us to the origin point of the virus!”

The woman’s face immediately turned pale. Because of the authority lent by the white lab coat, she heard those three words with chilling clarity: “In… fect… ed… per… son?” The woman stammered.