Reborn as a prince, achieve the pinnacle of power

Dimo stared at Singh for a long time with his sharp eyes, struggling internally.

I was wondering how much noise I could make if I spent 5 billion US dollars...

Otherwise, I could secretly call my godfather in Daxia, humble myself, beg for mercy, and offer him the 5 billion US dollars, so that he would withdraw his troops.

Suddenly, Dimo's mind was completely opened. He felt that the possibility of spending money to avoid disaster was much better than living in fear even if he bought arms.

"Singh!"

Prime Minister Mo's voice was filled with caution. "Tell me honestly with your military honor, if we go to war with Daxia, what are our chances of winning?"

Prime Minister Dimo's question was like a sharp sword, striking Singh's heart.

This was an extremely sensitive and complicated question, but he could not avoid it in the face of Dimo's direct questioning.

Singer took a deep breath and then spoke slowly:

"Sir, we must be honest with you. Compared with Daxia's military strength, there is a clear gap in our strength. Daxia not only has advanced weaponry, but is also far superior to us in training, strategy, and logistical support. If a direct conflict occurs, our chances of winning... are very low.

When Dimo ​​heard this answer, his expression became even more solemn. He had expected this result, but hearing the frankness of Minister Singh in person still made him feel extremely heavy.

"understood."

Dimo nodded slightly, his voice low and firm, "Singer, please wait outside the door first. Let me ponder alone for a while, and I will tell you the result soon."

Singh raised his head, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, but he didn't say much. He just walked out of the office quietly and closed the door.

In the silent office.

Dimo sat in the chair, and the air around him seemed to be frozen, dull and depressing.

His eyes wandered across the table, finally settling on the seemingly ordinary telephone. This was a communication tool that carried countless important information and decisions, but at this moment, it was like a heavy shackle, tightly binding Demo's heart.

I have experienced countless struggles and trade-offs in my heart. Every thought is like walking on the edge of a knife, and every step is full of uncertainty and risk.

He knew very well that begging for mercy from Daxia would mean admitting the weakness of the White Elephant Asan on the international stage, which would cause immeasurable damage to the country's dignity and international status.

But at the same time, he also understood that in the face of Daxia's military pressure and the corruption and incompetence of the domestic military, Baixiang Asan had reached a crossroads and had to make a difficult choice to avoid a greater disaster.

Dimo didn't know whether his decision was right or not.

But the overwhelming military power from both the East and the West, which was enough to destroy the country, forced him to put down his proud head.

He must be responsible for his more than one billion people.

Singh's answer, "Our chances of winning are very low," was like a sharp knife, piercing his last fantasy.

In the face of the country's future and the people's well-being, personal honor and disgrace become insignificant.

Finally, Prime Minister Dimo ​​took a deep breath, as if to absorb all his courage and determination into his chest.

He slowly reached out his hand and held the receiver of the phone; every movement seemed so heavy and slow.

His fingers danced lightly on the number keys, and each number seemed to be writing a new chapter in the history of Baixiang Asan.

When the call was connected, Di Mo's voice was filled with a hint of determination:

"I am Dimo, the Prime Minister of White Elephant Asan. I hope to have a direct conversation with my godfather from Daxia."

On the other end of the phone, the representative of Daxia was silent for a moment, obviously surprised by Dimo's initiative to make peace.

But soon, they replied, revealing a hint of cautious optimism in their tone: "Godfather is willing to listen to Prime Minister Dimo's advice, but hopes that White Elephant Asan can show enough sincerity to create a favorable environment for peace talks."

Dimo felt relieved. As long as there was something to talk about...

after an hour.

Singh was called into Dimo's office again.

"Singer, tell me, do you want a war with Daxia?"

Dimo's eyes were like swords, piercing Singer's eyes. His voice was a little hoarse, probably because he had talked too much in the past period of time.

Singh answered honestly: "Your Excellency, although I am a soldier and crave the honor of military merit...but if I know that I will lose, I will definitely not like war."

"Okay, I have a secret mission for you now."

Singh stood straight with a determined look, as if waiting for something important. There was no extra expression on his face, he just listened to Prime Minister Dimo's words silently.

Prime Minister Dimo ​​took a deep breath, as if making up his mind: “We can’t go on like this.

Just as you said, doing something knowing it is impossible is not heroic, but irresponsible to the more than one billion people of the white elephant country of India.

We need to negotiate with Daxia, we need peace. I have decided that you will serve as my secret envoy and fly to the capital of Daxia immediately to negotiate with their military leaders. "

Singh's face flashed with surprise, but it was soon replaced by calmness. He looked at Dimo, who was unquestionable, and said calmly: "Sir, your decision is correct. I am willing to go to Daxia, even if I have to bear the stigma of selling out my country for personal gain, I will complete this difficult task."

Dimo nodded, a tired smile appeared on his face, and he comforted Singh: "Don't worry, I won't abandon you after you've done your job."

Then he added silently in his heart: "But you are corrupt and have caused the country's military to slacken and become unable to resist Daxia. You can't escape the charge..."

Singh nodded gratefully: "Sir, do you have anything to say?"

"Come closer!" Dimo ​​waved to Singer, motioning him to come closer.

Singh didn't understand, but he took a cautious step forward and put his ear close to Prime Minister Dimo, waiting for his secret order.

Dimo's voice was low and firm, as if carrying an irresistible force. He began to explain the details of this secret mission to Chief Singh in detail.

Singh frowned and was puzzled, but he dared not show it and could only obey.

After listening to Dimo's instructions, Singh responded respectfully: "Sir, please rest assured that I will fulfill my mission."

Dimo nodded with satisfaction, patted Singh on the shoulder and encouraged him, "Very good, Singh, I look forward to your good news."

Singh saluted, turned away, and embarked on his journey to Daxia.