Chapter 734: Paris's

"Everyone," he said, turning his back on everyone, "What we need to do now is withdraw our troops to Egypt as quickly as possible. The faster, the better. The faster, the Faguo will be less likely to react. The faster, Ai Lun Bi can launch the attack sooner."

He turned and looked at the silent faces.

"When we win in Egypt, drive the Lanfang out of the Sinai Peninsula, even push to Dubai—then the Deguo will be utterly desperate. The Faguo will not dare say anything. The Meilika will only become more dependent on us."

He walked back to his seat and sat down.

"Relay the order to the front lines: speed up. Starting tomorrow, don't withdraw one regiment after another, withdraw one division after another. Tell them to pull back five more corps within two days."

Ji Qin Na froze for a moment: "Prime Minister, could this be too fast? What if the Faguo—"

"Faguo?" A Si Kui Si interrupted him, "The Faguo are too busy with themselves now; they have no energy to deal with us. That old man Ke Lie Meng Suo watches the Deguo every day; he has no time to watch us."

He waved his hand.

"Execute the order."

Ji Qin Na was silent for three seconds, then nodded: "Yes."

February 7, Paris.

In the corridor of the Faguo Army Department, staff officers came and went, footsteps hurried. The telegraph machine clattered nonstop, telephone rings rose and fell, and a tense atmosphere permeated the air.

The Prime Minister's office door was tightly closed.

Ke Lie Meng Suo sat behind his desk, a thick stack of reports before him. He had been reading for two hours, his complexion growing increasingly grim.

First report: Verdun sector, the British Army positions are half empty. All the forces taking over are Meilika.

Second report: Somme sector, the British Army withdrew three corps, the remaining positions were taken over by Meilika's Second Corps.

Third report: Alass sector, the British Army is undergoing a massive withdrawal, Meilika soldiers are filling in.

Fourth, fifth, sixth—each says the same thing: the Yingguo fled.

Ke Lie Meng Suo slammed the report onto the desk, punching down.

"Bastard!"

The teacup on the table shook and jumped, tea splashing everywhere.

The foreign minister Pi Xiong standing nearby jumped: "Prime Minister?"

Ke Lie Meng Suo stood up and walked to the window. Outside, Paris's streets were sparsely populated, the sky a dull gray, like his mood at that moment.

"Pi Xiong, do you know how many Yingguo have withdrawn?"

Pi Xiong shook his head.

Ke Lie Meng Suo turned, pointing at the pile of reports: "Eight corps! 120,000 people! All withdrawn!"

Pi Xiong inhaled sharply: "120,000? They—how could they—"

"How could they?" Ke Lie Meng Suo sneered, "They certainly can. Once the Meilika arrive, they no longer want to fight. They throw the positions to the Meilika and go rescue India themselves."

He walked back to his desk and picked up the phone.

"Connect me to the front‑line command."

A few minutes later, the line connected. In the receiver came the voice of Front‑line commander General Xiafei, heavy with fatigue.

"Prime Minister, you know?"

Ke Lie Meng Suo inhaled deeply: "Tell me the truth, how many Yingguo withdrew?"

Xiafei was silent for three seconds.

"Prime Minister, more than eight corps. They began withdrawing on January 31. Up to today, at least ten corps, 150,000 people have withdrawn."

Ke Lie Meng Suo's hand tightened around the receiver.

"Ten corps? 150,000? Why didn't you report earlier?"

Xiafei's voice carried a hint of helplessness: "Prime Minister, they said it was a rotation and rest. The Meilika did indeed come to fill the lines, the total number didn't decrease. I thought— I thought they were only withdrawing temporarily—"

"Temporarily?" Ke Lie Meng Suo cut in, "Xiafei, you've fought three years; do you believe this is temporary?"

The other end of the phone was silent.

Ke Lie Meng Suo closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"What's the situation now?"

Xiafei's voice was low: "At Verdun, the British Army's Third, Fifth, and Seventh Corps have all withdrawn. At the Somme, the Second and Fourth Corps have also withdrawn. At Alass, the Sixth, Eighth, and Ninth Corps are withdrawing. All the forces taking over are Meilika."

"Can the Meilika hold?"

Xiafei gave a bitter laugh: "Prime Minister, the Meilika don't even know how to dig trenches. More than half of their officers have never seen battle. If the Deguo attack now, they couldn't hold even a day."

Ke Lie Meng Suo was silent for a long time.

Then he said: "I understand."

He put down the phone and flopped onto his chair.

Pi Xiong came over and whispered: "Prime Minister, should we summon the Yingguo ambassador?"

Ke Lie Meng Suo lifted his head and looked at him.

In those eyes was something Pi Xiong had never seen—neither anger nor despair, but something deeper than anger and colder than despair.

"Summon him. Now."

Sir Edward Gray, the Yingguo ambassador to France, entered the Prime Minister's office with the professional diplomatic smile typical of his rank.

That smile froze the moment he saw Ke Lie Meng Suo's expression.

Ke Lie Meng Suo sat behind his desk, neither standing nor inviting him to sit, just staring at him like an eagle watching prey.

Gray stood in the doorway, caught between advancing and retreating.

"Sir Gray," Ke Lie Meng Suo finally spoke, his voice terrifyingly calm, "Please sit."

Gray walked to the sofa and sat down. He cleared his throat, ready to speak.

But Ke Lie Meng Suo gave him no chance.

"Sir Gray," Ke Lie Meng Suo stared into his eyes, "I need an explanation."

Ge Lei kept smiling: "Prime Minister, you are saying—"

"I am saying that Yingguo troops are withdrawing from the Faguo front on a large Scale," Ke Lie Mengsuo interrupted him, "Ten divisions, 150,000 men, all pulled back. I need an explanation."

Ge Lei's smile narrowed a bit.

"Prime Minister, this is not a withdrawal, it is a rotation. Meilika troops have already arrived, and our soldiers need to recuperate."

"Recuperate?" Ke Lie Mengsuo sneered, "Recuperate requires pulling back all ten divisions? Recuperate requires handing the Verdun and Somme River defenses over to inexperienced American troops?"

Ge Lei was silent for three seconds.

"Prime Minister, this is a decision made by London from a global perspective. Yingguo needs these soldiers to carry out more important missions."

"A global perspective? More important missions?" Ke Lie Mengsuo stood up, walked to Ge Lei's front, "Is it to go to Egypt to fight the Lanfang people? You want to throw the European battlefield to us, and go save India yourselves?"

Ge Lei also stood up.

The two stood face to face, less than a meter apart.

"Prime Minister," Ge Lei's voice grew firm, "Yingguo has the right to decide how its troops are employed. We have fought in Faguo for three years, losing hundreds of thousands. Now the Meilika have arrived, and our soldiers need rest; what's the problem with that?"