Chapter 1051: The Middle Station
The Snake-Man stared blankly at Chen Junnan for a long moment before speaking tentatively:
“Having the entire mountain act as messengers… that’s your answer?”
Chen Junnan: “Can it be?”
“I’m not sure,” the Snake-Man said. “Because what you just said sounds more like a question than an answer. If you’re certain you want to go with that answer… you can elaborate.”
Chen Junnan intended to explain, but on second thought, he realized the Snake-Man had no idea what the correct answer was. The best approach was to bluff as much as possible and convince him that what he was saying was true.
So instead of “elaborating,” he decided to “bullshit.”
“Here’s how I see it,” Chen Junnan began. “In your scenario, theoretically, a messenger who risks death to reach the second mountain has roughly equal odds of dying and surviving—fifty-fifty. So if everyone on the mountain instantly scatters, each acting as a messenger taking wildly different routes to other peaks, you could guarantee saving half the troops.”
“Wait, hold on,” the Snake-Man interrupted, confused. “Is that how the math works? Your scenario is way too idealistic.”
“What?” Chen Junnan blinked. “Too idealistic? Oh, so the fact that these two mountains can’t see each other’s smoke signals or make phone calls, and they’re surrounded by enemies—that’s *not* idealistic?”
“Uh…”
“And the ninety-nine people who think everything’s fine while one person thinks the dish is too salty—that’s not idealistic either?”
“Alright… alright, go on,” the Snake-Man conceded.
“Exactly. The whole thing is based on ideal assumptions anyway.” Chen Junnan nodded. “So I think if we treat the troops on each mountain as ‘1,’ a lone ‘1’ can’t break out. But now that one mountain has ‘1.5,’ a unilateral breakout might actually work. Like drawing a blade from its sheath, you know?”
The Snake-Man hadn’t known Chen Junnan long, but there was something oddly compelling about his reasoning. Listening to him gave you a hazy feeling that bordered on belief.
“But that doesn’t seem right,” the Snake-Man argued. “The question is how to get both mountains to launch a breakout at the same time. You’ve turned it into a unilateral breakout.”
“That’s finding a way out of a dead end,” Chen Junnan said. “I don’t know what you think, but if we keep stalling, both mountains will be besieged until they starve. Better to take a gamble than wait to die. That’s my thinking—always has been. Maybe if the whole mountain scatters, the enemy will be so baffled they won’t know where to intercept, and everyone ends up escaping to the second mountain anyway. When you’re at the end of your rope, a way out always appears.”
“But a scattered breakout means…”
“Don’t forget,” Chen Junnan interrupted, “the general of Mountain A might also disguise himself as a messenger and reach Mountain B. Once the two generals meet, they can communicate directly, skipping all the intermediate steps. They can even count down from three, lead their men out, and storm the front and rear slopes simultaneously. Perfect timing, no deception involved.”
The Snake-Man felt that if Chen Junnan had been born in ancient times, he might have been a brilliant military strategist. But unfortunately, this was all just armchair theorizing. In this hypothetical scenario, his answer was unlikely to be the “standard” solution.
Like how a child’s whimsical reply might be technically correct in some ways, but still get torn apart by the answer key.
Then again, if you could really order the entire mountain to scatter and act as messengers, why not just order them to scatter and flee outright?
“I still need to think it over,” the Snake-Man said. “I have a feeling this tactic only works if you’re one of the generals. Anyone else wouldn’t be able to pull it off.”
“Tch,” Chen Junnan snorted dismissively. “Believe it or not. Even if you come up with eight hundred strategies, my tactic’s still got the highest success rate.”
The Snake-Man turned to Kim Won-hoon, who hadn’t spoken in a while. “What do you think?”
“Me?” Kim Won-hoon pondered for a moment before replying, “I think… the problem isn’t with the messengers.”
“Oh?”
“The real problem is that the two generals don’t trust each other. So no matter how many times the messengers relay the order, it’ll be useless.”
The Snake-Man nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense too. So how do you think they can be made to trust each other?”
Kim Won-hoon held up a finger and pointed to the left side of the table. “This is General A.”
“Mm-hmm.” Chen Junnan and the Snake-Man both nodded.
Kim Won-hoon then pointed to the right side of the table. “And this is General B.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Kim Won-hoon formed a fist with his hand and placed it in the center of the table, exactly between Generals A and B. “Ah, they’re too far apart. They’ll never be able to trust each other. So in the middle, they need a ‘Heavenly Gate.’”
Chen Junnan blinked. “Are you trying to slip in an ad for your organization?”
“No, no, no.” Kim Won-hoon shook his head. “Hyung, this is exactly what ‘Heavenly Gate’ has always done. It acts as a bridge between two mutually distrustful parties—like the ‘Zodiacs’ and the ‘participants’—relaying messages to both sides.”
Seeing Chen Junnan and the Snake-Man staring blankly, Kim Won-hoon added, “What I mean is, it communicates privately with each side.”
“Alright, alright,” Chen Junnan waved a hand. “You sure have a way with words. Are you trying to work your little Jie to death?”
Kim Won-hoon naturally had no idea what Chen Junnan was talking about. He simply shook his head. “That’s what a ‘middleman’ has to do.”
The Snake-Man, however, wasn’t hung up on Kim Won-hoon’s phrasing. He mused, “So in this scenario, how would you set up a ‘Heavenly Gate’?”
“We could find someone both generals trust, dress them in enemy uniforms, and set up a temporary relay point in the middle,” Kim Won-hoon said. “All messages would be sent there first, then relayed outward. Both sides would trust this middle point, and the messengers would only have to travel half the distance.”
Kim Won-hoon’s Chinese was halting and his grammar a bit jumbled, but Chen Junnan and the Snake-Man immediately understood his point.
“Hmm…”
After both of them let out a thoughtful sound, they exchanged glances.
“I won’t ‘hmm’ anymore,” Chen Junnan said with an embarrassed smile. “You’re the snake, you go ahead and ‘hiss.’”
The Snake-Man felt that this time, Kim Won-hoon’s reasoning was sound. This so-called “relay point dressed in enemy uniforms” would only be known to their own side, making it relatively safe on multiple levels.
But it was still all theory. It sounded great on paper, but what about reality?
Fortunately, this time, they had a real-world example to look into.