HLM – Chapter 970 War Begins

Wang Bo and Atulu led the strong men up the mountain. They had climbed less than twenty meters when suddenly a rock came whistling toward them.

One of the strong men, already on high alert, instantly leapt up the moment he spotted the incoming rock, batting it away like a goalkeeper blocking a soccer ball.

Looking at the rock on the ground—about the size of his fist—Wang Bo’s face darkened. If that thing hit someone’s head, at the very least it would crack their skull open.

At that moment, several teenagers appeared above them. Each one held stones in their hands, glaring at them fiercely.

These teenagers were around fourteen or fifteen, bare-chested, covered in tattoos. Their twisted expressions shocked Wang Bo—how could kids have so much murderous intent?

Upon seeing them, one of the teens opened his mouth and shouted. Wang Bo couldn’t understand the Māori words, but after dealing with Māori for four years, he could recognize a few simple expressions.

The words he caught were: “die,” “****,” “kill you,” and so on.

Atulu, furious, shouted back in Māori. He was way better than the teens at cursing—after all, he’d once run with gangs. He opened his mouth and unleashed a verbal barrage, enraging the teens until they jumped madly with anger.

The teens grabbed stones and hurled them down. Wang Bo hid behind a tree. When the teens saw this, they burst out laughing smugly.

It was clear that civilized negotiation was impossible. Wang Bo pulled out his pistol, aimed at their feet, and pulled the trigger.

With a sharp bang, a stone exploded into fragments. A shard sliced into a teen’s leg, leaving a deep cut that immediately started bleeding.

Wang Bo said to Atulu, “Tell them to get their chief out here to talk to me. If not, I’ll wipe out their entire tribe!”

The words were domineering. In modern society, of course he couldn’t actually do it—but it would definitely intimidate these Māori. Wang Bo figured they still didn’t fully understand modern law and order.

After Atulu relayed the message, he felt a surge of hot-blooded excitement. “Hey, boss, why don’t we just go to war? I feel like we’re back in the days of the white settlers—this is exactly how they hunted down our Māori tribes back then.”

Wang Bo forced a smile. Are you sure you’re even Māori? He knew Atulu—if this guy lived a few centuries ago, he’d definitely be a Māori traitor.

Sure enough, Wang Bo’s warning intimidated the teens. Seeing him fire the gun scared them, and they ran off.

Before long, five or six strong Māori men descended from the mountain. Their faces were covered in intricate tattoos.

Wang Bo looked at Atulu, who shook his head. “Different tribes have different tattoo meanings. I can’t tell which tribe they’re from, but they’re all important figures.”

Seeing they weren’t carrying weapons, Wang Bo holstered his gun and stepped forward. “I’m the mayor here. Which one of you is the chief?”

“I am!” A burly man with small dreadlocks answered in fluent English. “Mayor, we respect your rights. Under the blessing of the Black Wolf God, we will not invade your town. But we hope you won’t trespass on our land either!”

Wang Bo almost laughed out of anger. “Your land? Sorry, this mountain is my land! There are written laws—this is legally my territory!”

“Law? That’s something invented by pale-skin pigs and cowardly Māori. We Black Wolf Tribe do not acknowledge it! This mountain has been ours since ancient times! It will always be ours!” the man declared proudly.

Wang Bo sneered. “Oh? And what standard do you use for that?”

“We came before the pale-skin pigs! We’ve lived here for generations!”

Wang Bo shrugged. “Well, that’s a problem then, buddy. Has the Black Wolf Tribe been here for a hundred years? The deer herd and hare clan on this mountain have been here for thousands of years. By that logic, this place belongs to the deer or the hares.”

“Which clan is the hare clan? Tell them to come out—we’ll beat them until they roll down the mountain!” one big man shouted, waving his fist.

Wang Bo was speechless.

Atulu grinned. “Boss, talking civilized with them is pointless. They’re just uneducated idiots.”

“Traitor! Coward! What did you say?!” the dreadlocked chief roared.

Wang Bo asked, “So you’re not willing to leave?”

“The gold mine belongs to us! We’ll leave when the gold runs out!” the chief said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

So they were here for gold. Their bandit logic made Wang Bo furious, but since they still had hostages, he had to hold back.

“Fine. You can dig your gold mine. But our friends are in your tribe—release them.”

The dreadlocked chief smirked. “Sorry, Mayor. They’re our friends now. We’ll treat them well. When the gold is gone, we’ll let them go.”

Wang Bo said, “Do you even know what you’re doing? This is kidnapping! Idiot, this is illegal—”

“Your crap laws don’t apply to us mountain Māori!”

“F**k you—looks like you’re tired of living!” Seeing negotiations fail, Wang Bo gestured for Atulu to leave with him.

But the dreadlocked chief smiled. “Since you’ve come to our Black Wolf Tribe, don’t be in a hurry to leave. Be our guests, friends.”

The men reached into their traditional Māori cloaks and pulled out rifles. Wang Bo immediately recognized them—AK-47s!

Damn, is this the Middle East or New Zealand? For a moment, he couldn’t even tell.

Atulu shoved the phone into the strong man’s mouth. “Run. Down the mountain. Now!”

With several guns aimed at them, Wang Bo couldn’t fight back—even if he could, he couldn’t run. The enemy held the high ground.

Atulu sighed. “Boss, I told you we shouldn’t have come up here.”

Wang Bo smiled. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

The truth was, he came up here intending to get kidnapped. That’s why he didn’t bother negotiating earlier—he intentionally used provocative language to anger them.

Dealing with these rustic Māori was easy for him. The difficult part was rescuing the ten or so tourists held hostage. He had to get inside to free them.

Wang Bo was confident—once he regrouped with his team and used a tactical plan with inside-outside cooperation, he could rescue the hostages.

He just hadn’t expected that the Māori living deep in the mountains were now using guns—and AK-series rifles at that.

Zhuang Ding turned and bolted down the mountain. The Māori didn’t notice it.

Uncle Bing and the others were waiting below. When they saw that only the dog returned, with no sign of Wang Bo and Atulu, they were stunned.

“Where’s the boss?” Kidd asked, scanning the slope.

Uncle Bing took the phone from the dog’s mouth. “This is Atulu’s phone.”

He unlocked the screen. There was only one word:

“War.”