PFC Chapter 21 The Undertaker
Chapter 21 The Undertaker
The two were locked in a fierce confrontation, and the air instantly filled with a strong sense of tension.
After a full ten seconds of stalemate, Yuri suddenly chuckled and raised his hand to make a tactical gesture.
The four men behind him immediately and uniformly lowered their guns, their movements clean and efficient.
"Relax, old buddy!" Yuri slowly pulled a beautifully packaged cigarette from his pocket and lit it.
"I just think it's a shame. If you had accepted the recruitment back then, with your qualifications, you could at least be a company commander in the Undertaker now, earning a high commission and using the best weapons. Instead, you're stuck in this lowlife place, haggling with rats."
"We have different paths, so we cannot work together." Dmitry was unmoved. "Even if I, Dmitry, die poor in a ditch, I will never associate with a bunch of executioners who sell their souls for rubles!"
"Whatever." Yuri exhaled a puff of smoke, seemingly losing interest in the conversation.
He gave Dmitry a deep look, then glanced at Lu Ye. "Good luck to your little brats. On the battlefield, the bottom line is the fastest thing to die."
After saying that, Yuri led his squad, shoved Dmitri aside, and strode away without looking back.
Watching their disappearing figures, Lu Ye slowly loosened his grip on the gun butt, his palms already covered in cold sweat.
The brief standoff had given him a distinct sense of suffocating pressure.
"Who are they?" Lu Ye asked in a low voice, his voice somewhat hoarse.
Dmitri turned his head and looked in the direction Yuri had left, his eyes filled with a complex mix of anger, sorrow, and a deep sense of apprehension.
"They are the undertakers," Dmitri said, taking a deep breath and speaking in a somber tone.
As Dmitry led Lu Ye into the dimly lit air-raid shelter, he explained in a low voice, "This PMC (private military contractor) company has been established for less than a year, but it already has a notorious reputation in the war zone."
"Their leaders are a group of retired senior officers from the Russian Alpha and Vympel special forces who were dismissed for being too cruel or violating military discipline."
Lu Ye's heart skipped a beat. Alpha and Vympel were terrifying entities standing at the pinnacle of global special operations.
"This group of officers, with their substantial overseas funds, recruited a large number of retired Russian military elites, pro-Russian veterans who had fought for many years, and top mercenaries like Yuri who had extensive combat experience and were motivated by money."
Dmitri's voice echoed in the empty underground passage: "In our eyes, war is about protecting our homes at home; but in the eyes of the mourners, war is just a pure business."
"As long as they are paid enough, they will not hesitate to carry out raids, assassinations, or massacres of villages. They are not only better equipped than the regular army, but they are also extremely ruthless and efficient in fighting, leaving no survivors. They are even willing to sacrifice friendly forces without hesitation in order to achieve their goals."
At this point, Dmitri stopped and turned to look at Lu Ye intently.
"Lu, you were very calm just now, that's good. But I'm warning you, if you run into this group of people outside in the future, try to take a detour."
Lu Ye nodded silently. "Is a bottom line the thing that dies the fastest?"
He coldly pondered Yuri's words in his heart. He did not agree with losing one's humanity for money, but he also did not want to be slaughtered like cannon fodder outside.
If you want to survive and protect your principles in a place like this, the only way is to become stronger and more ruthless than them!
A few minutes later, Dmitri led Lu Ye to the deepest part of the air-raid shelter, which was dark and damp, and smelled strangely of cheap perfume mixed with mold.
"Hey! Another customer!" said a lean, Ukrainian man with a mustache. "You can call me Mole."
Dmitri ignored him and dumped the spoils onto the table in front of the man who called himself the Mole.
The mole sat behind the wooden crate, scrutinizing the loot with a critical eye. Then he picked up a gold ring, bit it, and then picked up a stack of US dollars, held it up to the light, and a cold smile crept onto his lips.
"Quite a haul! Brothers from the regular army!"
"Enough talk, name your price." Dmitry stared at him coldly. "We want cash, and it has to be hard currency that can circulate outside the war zone."
The mole sighed dramatically, took out a calculator, and pressed a few buttons: "The gold and silver jewelry is of very poor quality, the watch is secondhand, and these US dollars are covered in blood, which is troublesome. The total estimated value is... ten thousand US dollars."
"Bullshit!" Upon hearing this, Lu Ye instantly flew into a rage, took a step forward, grabbed the mole by the collar, and half-lifted him up.
"These stacks of US dollars alone, plus these rubles, are worth more than five thousand US dollars! Add the jewelry and watches, and it's at least fifteen thousand US dollars. You think you can swindle our hard-earned money?!"
Four fully armed soldiers immediately stood up beside him, pulled back their bolts, and pointed their dark gun muzzles at Lu Ye.
"Lu Ye, let go." Dmitri pressed down on Lu Ye's wrist, glanced coldly at the soldiers, and then turned to the Mole. "Ten thousand is too low."
The mole straightened his rumpled collar and smiled smugly. "Captain, this is already being lenient because you're a legitimate overseas deployment team. If it were those cannon fodder from outside coming to exchange, I would never have valued them more than five thousand US dollars. Besides..."
He paused, then held up three fingers: "According to the rules set by Major Vorov, all spoils exchanges conducted within the camp will incur a 30% handling fee."
"Thirty percent? Why don't you just rob us!"
"Rules are rules." The mole shrugged. "You don't have to change them! However, considering you're a legitimate company, I can decide to only charge you 20% of the transaction fee."
Dmitri's molars were grinding together, his fists were clenched, and the veins on the back of his hands were bulging.
"Change," Dmitri uttered through gritted teeth.
"A wise choice." The mole grinned and took out a stack of crisp $100 bills from the safe behind him. "Ten thousand dollars, minus a twenty percent fee, that's two thousand. Here's eight thousand dollars in cash, count it."
Dmitri grabbed the money, didn't even look at it, and turned to leave.
Lu Ye followed them all the way back to the tent. After informing everyone of the news, the atmosphere in the entire team became so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.
Dmitry placed the eight thousand dollars on the ammunition box in the middle and said in a deep voice, "Eight portions in total. Six of us, plus Peter lying in the medical tent, and Seryozha."
Everyone remained silent, none of them having expected the extra income to be so small, far below their expectations.
Dmitri divided the money into eight parts, each containing exactly one thousand dollars.
"I'll give my share to Seryozha, and together with his, I'll find an opportunity to have someone take it back to his country and give it to his wife and children. As for the rest, keep your money earned from risking your lives."
Lu Ye picked up his stack of US dollars heavily; this was his only income since arriving on this battlefield.