Building a Conglomerate in Another World-Chapter 203: Rescuing the Others

The sky was still dark, the first hints of dawn creeping along the horizon. Captain Daniel Foster crouched behind a large boulder, peering through his spyglass at the Boxer encampment. The terrain was rough, with uneven slopes and thick underbrush, but it provided ample cover for their approach.

The Boxers had changed their tactics. After Amber’s escape, they had reinforced their defenses. More guards patrolled the perimeter, torches lighting the paths between tents. The hostages were no longer scattered—they had been moved to a central holding area, heavily guarded and encircled by wooden barricades.

Foster lowered his spyglass and turned to Lieutenant Marcus Hale, the sharpshooter. "How many?"

Hale adjusted his rifle sight. "At least forty guards visible. Probably more inside."

Sergeant Elias Boone, the demolitions expert, scoffed. "They’re expecting trouble."

"They should," Foster muttered.

To his left, a British captain knelt beside him, studying the camp. "The Japanese will strike from the east, the Amerathians from the south, and my men will cover the western approach."

Foster nodded. The plan was to move in simultaneously, creating a diversion while the extraction teams went for the hostages. They had limited time—if the Boxers realized an attack was underway, they could start executing captives.

He turned to his men. "We go in silent until we can’t. Take out as many as possible before the fireworks start."

Hale chambered a round into his rifle. "Let’s get this done."

The makeshift prison reeked of sweat and fear. Over twenty hostages—Western diplomats, Chinese officials, and civilians—huddled together inside a reinforced wooden structure. A few were injured from beatings, their expressions grim as they whispered among themselves.

The leader of the Boxers, Zhou Liang, paced just outside the holding area, his face dark with anger. Amber Hesh’s escape had humiliated him, and he would not allow another mistake.

He stopped in front of the prisoners, unsheathing his sword. The hostages tensed.

"You think your foreign friends will come for you?" he sneered. "They only cared about the Amerathian woman. The rest of you are nothing."

One of the European diplomats, an older Frenchman, stepped forward. "You’re making a mistake, Zhou. If you execute us, the foreign powers will—"

Zhou swung his sword. The Frenchman gasped as the blade sliced across his arm, sending him stumbling backward.

"The foreign powers will do nothing," Zhou growled. "They will hesitate. They will talk. And by the time they decide to act, you’ll all be dead."

A murmur of fear rippled through the hostages.

Zhou turned to his men. "Kill one every hour. Let the foreigners find corpses when they arrive."

The guards nodded, dragging one of the trembling hostages toward the execution area.

But before the first blow could be struck—

Phfft!

A silenced round struck one of the executioners between the eyes. He collapsed instantly.

Zhou spun around. "What—"

Phfft!

A second shot. Another Boxer fell.

Then—

BOOM!

The eastern side of the camp exploded in fire and smoke as the Japanese forces breached the perimeter. The Boxers scrambled, shouting in confusion.

Foster’s team moved in from the south, eliminating the sentries before they could raise the alarm.

Hale dropped another guard from his vantage point. "Perimeter clear."

"Move in," Foster ordered.

The team advanced, their silenced rifles picking off Boxers as they neared the hostage area. Boone lobbed a small explosive toward a supply crate, creating another distraction.

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The explosion rocked the ground, shaking the wooden structure. The hostages gasped, some covering their heads.

A British soldier burst through the door, rifle raised. "We’re getting you out!"

Relief flooded the prisoners’ faces as more operatives poured in, cutting bindings and tending to the wounded.

One of the captured Chinese officials turned to an Amerathian soldier. "They will not let us escape without a fight."

"We’re counting on that," the soldier replied, handing him a pistol.

Outside, chaos erupted as the Boxers rallied.

Zhou Liang barked orders, drawing his pistol. "Kill them all! Hold the camp!"

Foster spotted him from across the field. "Take out their leader."

Hale adjusted his aim, steadying his rifle.

Phfft!

Zhou staggered as the bullet punched into his shoulder. He collapsed, clutching the wound, before dragging himself behind cover.

"Not dead," Hale muttered.

"No time—keep pushing forward!" Foster ordered.

More explosions lit the night as the British and Japanese forces overwhelmed the remaining Boxers.

Foster and his team reached the hostages, helping the wounded move.

"Extraction is coming," he radioed. "Five minutes."

The sound of galloping horses filled the air—Boxer reinforcements.

"Here they come!" Boone shouted.

The Amerathian and British soldiers dug in, firing controlled bursts as the enemy surged toward them.

"Hold the line!" Foster yelled.

A Japanese officer charged forward, cutting down a Boxer with his saber. "Push them back!"

The hostages were ushered toward the rendezvous point as the last of the defenders held their ground.

"Get them out now!"

The sound of distant engines signaled the arrival of armored transport vehicles. Soldiers covered the retreat, ensuring no hostage was left behind.

Zhou Liang, wounded and enraged, crawled toward a fallen rifle. He lifted it, aiming at the retreating hostages.

A single shot rang out.

Hale lowered his rifle. "Now he’s dead."

As the last of the hostages were secured, the Amerathian, British, and Japanese forces withdrew.

The Boxer camp, now in ruins, burned behind them.

Amber stood at the edge of the outpost, watching the approaching convoy. As Foster and his team emerged, leading the rescued prisoners, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

"You did it," she whispered.

Foster nodded, exhausted but satisfied. "They’re safe."

Hours later, Matthew Hesh received the confirmation. His jaw relaxed as he leaned back in his chair.

"They’re safe," he murmured.

His secretary, Collins, exhaled in relief. "Sir, what should we tell the press?"

Matthew stood, adjusting his tie. "Tell them Amerathia does not leave anyone behind. And of course, since we are the ones who planned the operation, we have to take credit as well. You know how good this is in our optics."

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