Counterfeit Hero

"There are injuries." Fatty gestured to a dozen Jiepeng Soldiers lying on the ground beside him, shivering with a hint of reluctance: "Look, if he ends up like that..."

"At worst, we’ll beat him up and then give him a rub!" The little kid sized up Vego from head to toe.

"Idiot," Fatty looked at the little kid with disdain, "with our heavy hands, if we hit him, there’s no way he’d recover."

The two babbled nonsensically and argued incessantly. Vego stood to the side, his skin crawling, his face alternating between shades of green and white.

He gritted his teeth and said, "Was this your plan all along?"

Fatty and the little kid, in the midst of their argument, jumped in shock and exchanged glances: "Did this guy figure it out?"

After asking this question, Vego felt as if a sudden flash of insight illuminated him, many events connecting seamlessly under this answer. He looked at Fatty in shock and said slowly, "In the mountains, no Transport Ship dares to appear within an entire Armored Division’s air defense range. To deploy airborne reinforcements, you must buy enough time. So, you devised such a plan to voluntarily walk into my trap and let me drop your airborne troops myself?"

Fatty nodded. The little kid looked at Vego seriously, his gaze flickering unpredictably.

"But how did you know I’d fall for it? How did you know the Mecha wasn’t with me?" Vego took a deep breath and asked, "If your final blow failed and I ordered your execution, what would you do?"

"You wouldn’t do it." Fatty shook his head.

"Why?" Vego couldn’t understand where Fatty’s confidence came from.

"Your hatred for me runs deep." Fatty raised an eyebrow, coldly saying, "I destroyed a battalion of yours and deceived you, leading you to pursue me at the cost of the entire Armored Division. You’ll hesitate to kill me outright when I’m within your grasp. That’s one reason."

"And the second reason?" Vego asked.

"Second, I must acknowledge your control over your troops." Fatty said, "Even knowing your pursuit decisions would trap the troops in a dire situation, they still executed your orders. In many units, this is unimaginable. However, I believe if I can keep dragging this out for three days in the mountains, even without reinforcements, I can escape you. Your soldiers endure immense psychological pressure daily, and under such pressure, it’s difficult for you to hold out for three days."

"You overestimate me," Vego fell silent for a moment, then chuckled self-deprecatingly, "If it weren’t for you walking into this trap and if I hadn’t pulled back my rear units, the losses you’ve caused us over these three days and the constant appearance of a large number of airborne fighter jets would mean I couldn’t even hold out for a day."

Vego looked at Fatty and asked, "How does this relate to your plan?"

"Your soldiers experience psychological pressure, and you endure it as well. The greater their pressure, the greater yours becomes. This pressure reaches a critical point when I raise my hand to surrender." Fatty said calmly, "Faced with the reality of being surrounded by my Allies, you and all your soldiers know that killing us means the entire Armored Division will perish."

No one wants to die. For your soldiers, such a dire situation shouldn’t have arisen; you led them into it. If the left path means capturing me and leaving alive, and the right path means killing me and perishing entirely, everyone will likely choose the left path. If you choose the right, the first to die might be me, and the second, probably you!"

"So, you deliberately charged in," Vego nodded and asked, "But how did you know the Mecha wasn’t with me?"

"I didn’t know!" Fatty shook his head and said, "Throughout these three days, I’ve tried to kill you, but you’ve hidden well each time, clearly on guard against me. So I simply prepared an extra chess piece based on your possible actions."

"This is your final chess move, isn’t it?" Vego looked at the little kid: "Indeed, it’s hard to believe a three or four-year-old could be such a terrifying killer."

The little kid glared at Vego, his expression growing sterner.

Vego couldn’t understand why this neurotic little boy was giving him a harsher look, so he turned to Fatty: "Now, you’ve controlled me here, but outside, your troops and this Command Mecha are still surrounded by mine. If I choose mutual destruction..."

"You clearly forgot how I reached your Mecha just now," Fatty smirked, speaking in Vego’s voice: "Do you think I’d give you that kind of opportunity?"

Vego stared at Fatty, as if he had seen a Devil. He even sensed that this Fatty had turned into another version of himself.

"Aren’t you afraid that announcing surrender will make my subordinates suspicious?" Vego rasped.

"Hmm, that’s a concern," Fatty nodded, "But if I announce as you that your Prince is already in the Allies’ hands and the exchange condition is freeing all of us to ensure you and your Prince’s escape, how do you think they’d react?"

How would they react? There’s no need to guess.

Fatty’s grasp of human nature is too precise.