Chapter 1490 - 1226: Showering Money! Injecting Chicken Blood!

The news that the supreme leader, the great financer Boss Song, is distributing money spread like a wildfire out of control, sweeping through every corner of Daguge at an incredible speed, reaching the ears of every soldier.

After a brief, unbelievable silence, a deafening cheer and roar erupted from the entire military camp!

"Long live Boss Song!!!"

"Take Hulmatu! Seize the territory!"

"Slaughter those bastard extremists! For the US Dollar! For the Boss!"

The entire Daguge instantly boiled!

The machine of war was completely ignited by this simple and brutal "cash is king" strategy!

No one dislikes money!

Even though these militiamen joined the "Liberation Forces" or the "Abu You Brigade" for different reasons, some to avenge the 1515 Armed, some to reclaim their hometown land, some just to make a living.

But regardless of the differing objectives, in the end, no one dislikes the colorful US dollars.

In the war-torn Middle East, one hundred US dollars can buy a life.

It's no exaggeration.

If you can offer money, there will be someone willing to risk their life.

In troubled times, life is the least valuable.

To die without regrets, sometimes it's better than living.

Song Heping, who's been here for years, knows these bloody truths very well.

Soon, more and more soldiers, ordered to gather, convened on the large open space in Daguge City.

Except for the two thousand stationed in newly occupied Kirkuk and three thousand in Sulaimaniyah, along with the ones on duty and deployed, there are a total of five thousand troops here.

Seeing the increasingly dense gathering of soldiers like a swarm of dark ants, standing on a pile of bricks, Song Heping suddenly had a strange feeling—

Back when he first joined the special forces, it was a brigade-level unit with just over three thousand members, and whenever there was a large assembly on the training ground, Song Heping, listening to the uniform orders, watching the densely packed comrades, and looking at the captain on the podium, would always think, perhaps one day he could be promoted to captain and stand on the podium watching a swarm of his men below, the feeling...

How great!

Unfortunately, he later became a non-commissioned officer by coincidence, and then, by another twist of fate, participated in the selection and training of the 203rd unit, but finally chose to retire due to personal issues...

The dream of being a captain seemed more and more distant.

Unexpectedly, fate is so wonderful.

Now, these militiamen are all his deployment, all under his command.

More than ten thousand people!

Easily the establishment of a division!

By this count, he's surely a division commander, a colonel-level figure!

Back in the day, he couldn't even imagine being what he is today, not only commanding a division's worth of soldiers but also having a defense company with a whole regiment of mercenaries...

Damn it!

At this rate, in a few years, won't he be a mercenary leader of at least an army commander's level?

At this thought, Song Heping suddenly felt that he was lacking ambition.

What army commander?

What is an army commander?!

Can an army commander make the CIA bow their head?

Can an army commander make the security advisor in Old America's White House furious?

Even less can he sway the Middle East situation?

Thinking of this, Song Heping seemed to see the ancestral tomb of his hometown emitting smoke in his trance.

This feeling, scratching from the ground up to the brain.

Old home...

Ancestral tomb!

This time, with things cleared up, he should find time to go back and repair it.

Say what you want about the Lord Dong, but the ancestral tomb is the root.

He may be unconventional in military matters, but culturally and traditionally, he is absolutely conservative.

Over the years, having made some money, he instructed his brother a couple of years ago to repair the ancestral tomb. He wonders how the boy has done it.

He should make time to go back and see...

Just as Song Heping was standing on the pile of bricks, his mind wandering in a trance, Samir, looking at the growing number of soldiers and then at his watch, suddenly thought of a practical problem: "Boss, distributing so much money on-site to thousands of people? This... counting and distributing it will take too much time! It might seriously affect our scheduled departure time!"

Song Heping looked at the enthusiastic soldiers and laughed: "Who told you to line up and get the money one by one? That's way too slow and too boring."

He pointed to several boxes piled in the corner: "Go find dozens of rotor drones, the bigger the better, the stronger the load capacity the better. Take the money in the boxes, break it up, and separate it into piles. Use the drones to scatter it for me!"

"Sca... scatter money?!"

Samir and Abu You's jaws almost dropped in shock.

"That's right, scatter money!"

Song Heping's eyes gleamed with a nearly mad light.

"I want everyone to witness with their own eyes, the US Dollars falling like rain! I want this expedition to turn into a carnival! A feast of wealth, irrigated with the enemy's blood! Tell the brothers, when we take Hulmatu, there will be more rewards!"

At ten o'clock that night, on the open space in Daguge City, thousands of soldiers were gathered densely, and the surrounding civilians, seeing such a scene, were so frightened that they hid indoors, peeking out from behind curtains to see what these militiamen were up to.

The militiamen stood in formation according to their respective companies, excitement on their faces, and exhilaration in their eyes.

Bonfires burned brightly all around, the dancing flames illuminating each face.

Initially, they received orders that a pre-departure swearing-in ceremony was to be held, but rumors later spread that Boss Song might be distributing money to everyone, and lots of it!

The news of the US Army delivering a truckload of cash had already spread within the ranks.