For ordinary people, magic is a mysterious thing.

The damage created by magic is difficult to detect by ordinary people in their way.

Merlin believed that the death of the base leader would only be regarded as a sudden emergency, but he ignored one thing. There are not many people in this world who know about magic, but definitely many.

Five hours after the death of the leader of the Afghan canyon base, a messenger rushed in the heart of Eastern Europe in a mansion outside a city far away from Afghanistan.

"I want to meet the great Mandarin."

This young messenger in a suit, with an Arab appearance, but a big bald man, said to the guards of the big mansion:

“I have important news to convey to the great Mandarin myself!”

"Wait here!"

The guard, who was big and thick, was fully armed and carried a gun, said coldly to the bald messenger. After a few minutes, he returned to the messenger's eyes and said:

"Mandalin meets you! But you must first make sure we are safe."

Immediately after, the bald messenger went through seven tight inspections, and under the gaze of the guards, he changed into a loose set of clothes to ensure that he did not carry any weapons on his body, and he was allowed to enter the living room of the mansion.

On the decorated magnificent living room walls, there are precious collections from all over the world, and there is also a religious sculpture carved in ivory. The ground is covered with a whole hand-woven carpet. The restrained and luxurious color means that the carpet is also an expensive craft.

And on the carpet, there was a red chair.

Compared with the gorgeous furnishings around it, this chair looks inconspicuous, but it is a symbol of status.

The owner of this chair is the founder of the Ten Rings Gang, the heir to the noble bloodline, the uncrowned king of the entire Central Asia and Eastern Europe, and a true hero.

He had yellow skin, sword-like eyebrows, and looked prominent as if he was a Mongolian or Central Asian. He sat on the quaint chair with his eyes slightly closed, as if he was resting.

His off-white hair was scattered on his shoulders, under his wrinkled face, and his beard was neatly and beautifully maintained.

His breathing was low, slow, and he could not even see the ups and downs of his chest, as if he could stop breathing at any time.

His fingers like white jade were intertwined on his abdomen, stacked on the green one, and weaved many beautiful patterns of windbreaker-like robe with golden silk threads. He sat on the chair calmly, and this action made him look like a sculpture.

What's most eye-catching about this Mandarin from head to toe is that on the ten fingers of this slightly older leader, there are ten rings of gems of different colors and dotted with different lusters and shapes.

The light shone on Mandarin, and the surface of the ten rings reflected a completely different light.

Generally speaking, bringing two rings is enough to look weird.

The leader of the Ten Rings Gang, the mysterious Mandalin, brought ten rings. If he only looked at his fingers, he would probably be mistaken for being a small businessman selling rings.

But how to say it?

If you look at it as a whole, Mandarin himself paired with ten rings on his fingers, the weird decoration not only did not make Mandarin look like a rough nouveau riche, but instead made him look even more mysterious.

It was like a mysterious halo that blessing him, making him look full of a mysterious aura similar to a religious leader.

Beside Mandarin, four beautiful women wearing very light clothes and different races and skin colors stood, holding all kinds of things in their hands, ready to provide various services to Mandarin at any time.

But in the state Mandarin showed, these women with beautiful skins seemed to be no different from other decorations in the living room.

Mandalin, who has lived in his 90s, has long passed the age of indulgence. In fact, even in his distant youth, Mandalin has never been a person who enjoys his feelings and feelings.

He was no longer tempted by this low-level interest a long time ago.

The bald messenger who came from afar lowered his head and came to Mandarin with the most humble attitude.

He dared not look up at the great leader, and he whispered:

"Great Mandarin, we just got the news that Abbas is dead."

"Um?"

Mandalin, who had closed his eyes, made a puzzled nasal sound. After a moment, he said in a gentle, breeze-like voice:

"Two months ago, Abbas came to see me. I can be sure that he is very healthy and can live for at least 30 years, how could he die? Was he killed?"

"No, great Mandarin."

The messenger briefly explained:

"When Abbas was dealing with work, he died of a sudden cerebral hemorrhage due to overwork. Our doctor went to see his body, and the doctor also confirmed that Abbas' death was an accident."

"Accident?"

Mandalin shook his head, and he opened his eyes. In his wolf-like pupils, a light like a twinkling star was beating.

He said:

"Just when Afghanistan's career is about to reach its peak, when Abbas is about to reach the most glorious moment in his life, and when the chess piece I fell into the board, an accident happened."

"It's not such a coincidence, and it's no surprise, my student Ibn."

Mandalin said:

"I guess there is a force we don't notice that is interfering with us. As for the symptoms of cerebral hemorrhage, there are too many ways to fake this injury. This is not good, very bad, I don't like this 'surprise'."

"We'll go investigate immediately!"

Hearing Mandarin’s statement, the messenger named Ibn immediately replied:

"It only takes a short time to mobilize our forces in Afghanistan, and we can"

"No!"

Mandarin raised his hand and interrupted Ibn's narration.

He narrowed his eyes and said:

"The plan is only one last step away. Now it's an arrow on the string and I can't look back."

"Although Abbas' sudden death is a bit doubtful, it's a pity, but that's not the most important thing at the moment. North American public opinion workers are looking forward to explosive news that can attract everyone's attention, like bloodthirsty jackals. How can we let them down?"

"The situation cannot be waited, Ibn. I have already smelled the breath of war, go to Afghanistan as quickly as possible, take over Abbas' position, and then complete the mission that he has not completed. Everything about the sacrifice has been prepared, you just need to follow the plan step by step."

“Yes, great Mandarin.”

Ibn lowered his head and said in a deep voice:

"I will not let you down!"

After saying that, Ibn was about to turn around and leave, but was stopped by Mandarin.

"etc."

Ibn was like a robot receiving the order. He immediately stopped, lowered his head, and turned to Mandarin's position.

Before his eyes, his leader stroked his beard and said softly:

"Abbas has been operating that base for decades, and he was born there. It was his home, he was familiar with everything there, with more than 500 soldiers guarding him, but he died."

"That is a threat that cannot be ignored. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe you can solve two troubles for me at once on that land that is about to be swallowed by war."

"But being able to kill Abbas quietly under the protection of 500 people has shown the ability of that infiltrator. Ah, it reminds me of those tricky shadow warriors. But even they can't do this unless my old friend Lars Al Goul takes action himself, but that's impossible."

Mandalin frowned, and a few minutes later, he raised the middle finger of his left hand.

The ring worn on the middle finger, decorated with green gems, floated away from his fingers and floated in the air. The base of the ring was a silver ring, and the emerald on the surface of the ring showed a strange folded line.

After leaving Mandarin's middle finger, the surface of the ring was jumping rapidly with small blue arcs, which looked very mysterious.

Mandarin waved his fingers lightly, and the silver emerald ring quickly floated in front of Ibn's eyes. The latter sincerely stretched out his hands and let the ring fall into the palm of his hand.

"Take it with you."

Mandarin closed his eyes again, he said:

"If you really meet the person who killed Abbas, the person who dares to go against the Ten Rings, kill him with the power of this ring. Ibn, you are the young man I watched grow up with your own eyes, and one of the best people in this generation of Ten Rings."

"I hope you can bring me a victory, a war embellished with blood. I hope you can be the roaring dog when the door to hell opens, I hope you can be my horn, my eyes in Afghanistan, and let me see those stupid Americans driven by hatred to join the war."

"Can you do it?"

Facing Mandarin's inquiry, Ibn held the ring in his hand and said in a deep voice:

“Even at the cost of life, you will not be disappointed, great Mandarin!”

"Then go."

Mandarin said last, and then returned to the state of long breathing, as if he had fallen asleep again.

The messenger Ibn dared not disturb his leader's dormancy. He quickly withdrew from the living room and took back his clothes from the guards. After a few minutes, he left the mansion on the edge of the Eastern European city.

He sat in a luxury car and gave a command to the driver. When the vehicle started slowly, the bald Ibn lowered his head and looked at the ring in his hand obsessively.

He knew that these ten rings were Mandarin's beloved objects and also divine objects with powerful power.

It is said that the original members of the Ten Rings Gang were a group of vicious bandits. They had no connection with each other, but were scattered in various places and carrying out their own careers. Until then, Mandarin, who was still very young, walked on the land of Central Asia, and used the power of these ten rings to easily make them surrender to his feet.

Since then, the Ten Rings Gang was truly established, and under the command of the talented and stubborn Mandalin, he has grown to such a terrifying behemoth that has surpassed the concept of the country.

It is said that the name and logo of the Ten Rings Gang also come from the ten divine objects-like rings carried by Mandalin.

Ibn gently put the silver emerald ring on the middle finger of his left hand.

He could feel a bone-broken coldness. He stretched out his fingers, and a jumping blue arc wrapped around his fingers. He felt that he could freely control the energy of the arc and the frequency of its beating through the ring, and even allow the arc to form various strange shapes in the air.

He opened his fingers and let the deadly arc dance beating in his palms.

He looked at this scene and felt as if he had become Thor, the God of Thor in Norse mythology.
To be continued...