Xiaomi Heavy Industry, its first entrepreneurial venture!

Chapter 543 Dogs should do what dogs are capable of doing! (First update!)

Albert's words were so real, so real, that Badri wanted to stab him to death. However, his desire for future power made Badri suppress his murderous intent.

Let this guy gloat for now. Once we get enough equipment from him and rebuild a team, we'll kill him and grind him to dust.

Thinking it over in his mind, Badri's body honestly knelt down in front of Albert, touching the ground with his forehead.

Seeing him like that, Albert smiled.

This prostration gesture, known as Sujud in Islam, symbolizes absolute submission to Allah. However, Islamic doctrine forbids believers from performing a similar prostration to anyone else, as it is considered highly disrespectful.

"People will do anything for profit!" Albert sighed, crossing his legs and then gently stepping on Badri's head with his right foot.
"Come on, press your face against my shoe to show your submission!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Albert's eyes caught sight of the veins bulging on Badri's hands, which were pressed against the ground. Noticing this, he pressed down slightly with his right foot, slamming Badri's face into the ground.
"Not convinced?"

"You want to kill me?"

"I'm giving you a chance. Kill me now, kill me, and you can vent your resentment. Hurry, kill me now!"

While speaking, Albert continued to stomp on Badri's feet, and at the same time, he grabbed a pistol from someone nearby and casually tossed it to Badri's right.
Pick up that gun and kill me!

Upon hearing this, Badri, who was lying on the ground, clenched his right fist tightly, but quickly released it and continued to lie there.

Seeing that he didn't resist, Albert lost interest in continuing to torment him.

He bent down, picked up the pistol that had been thrown on the ground, tossed it to the person behind him, and then gave the order:
"Contact Tel Aviv and ask them to contact the troops stationed in Baghdad, Iraq, and ask them to allocate some supplies."

"Firearms, ammunition, gasoline—get all of that out!"

After giving the orders, and waiting for the person who had taken the pistol to make contact, Albert knelt down in front of Badri and gently patted Badri's face. "Remember, it's a dog!"

"Since you're a dog, you can only do what dogs do. Don't even think about doing anything else!"

"Understand?"

"You bunch of bastards, your biggest mistake is thinking that just because you have two guns, you can negotiate with a country."

“I’m telling you right now, the reason you can negotiate with the Iraqi government and the Syrian government is because both governments care about you and, because you are compatriots, they are willing to talk to you properly.”

"But it's a pity!"

"In my eyes, you Arabs are nothing but beasts, two-legged animals. I don't care about the life or death of animals!"

"All right!"

"I'll have someone bring the first batch of supplies here later. All you have to do is take the supplies and kill and burn all the Japanese in 32nd Street and 1th Avenue!"

After finishing his monologue, Albert noticed that Badri was still looking down. He couldn't help but close his eyes, and then suddenly kicked out:
"Did you hear that?"

Badri, who was prostrate on the ground in submission, was kicked to the ground, rolled twice, and then quickly knelt down again.
"heard it!"

Seeing him like this, Albert shook his head, turned around and walked out of the room.

Once outside, his Mossad colleague, who had been following him, asked:

"Aren't you afraid he'll stab you in the back if you do this?"

Upon hearing this, Albert turned to look at the house. "That damned dog, he doesn't have the guts! If he did, he wouldn't have abandoned the business he built on the Turkish-Syrian border and fled here."

"Please urge them again and try to get our troops stationed in Baghdad to hand over the equipment to them tonight."

"Let them go and kill those stupid Japanese!"

"This is our land. They come here to buy land and to spread their distorted form of Christianity. They're courting death!"

"Let's go back and get some sleep. We'll see some fun tomorrow!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Albert, along with several Mossad colleagues, disappeared into the night in Baghdad.

The Israeli troops stationed in Baghdad acted swiftly, immediately allocating a batch of equipment upon receiving orders and delivering it to Badri.

Looking at the brand-new guns, brand-new bombs, brand-new rocket launchers, and brand-new mortars, Badri completely forgot about the humiliation Albert had inflicted on him.

After spending several tens of minutes familiarizing himself with the new firearms, he led his men toward 13th Street in the 32nd block.

…………

Iraq's urban layout, derived from the English, is characterized by its straight lines and grids, with few high-rise buildings and mostly standard Iraqi architecture.

However, the situation changed slightly in the 32nd block of Sadr City in the north, on 13th Street.

Amidst a large expanse of Iraqi architecture, this street, less than 500 meters long, is lined with faded shop signs, and the facades beneath them are covered with wooden planks.

The occasional roadside trees along the streets have also been replaced with cherry blossoms.

In early January, the cherry blossoms had already fallen, leaving the ground bare and not looking very pretty.

However, the lush tree branches, combined with the surrounding streets, might give a person walking on this street, especially one who has been to Japan, a misconception.
That means this isn't Iraq, but Tokyo, Japan.

The shop furthest to the left on the street is owned by Ichiro Hirakawa, chairman of the Japan Chamber of Commerce in Iraq.

The shop is divided into two sections: on the left is an electronics mall, and on the right is a hot spring.

Because he arrived early, he has now become the general agent for major Japanese electronics companies in Iraq.

At the same time, he also became the chairman of the Japan Chamber of Commerce in Iraq.

As the chairman of the chamber of commerce, he naturally had to seek some benefits for the Japanese in Iraq, so he chose to open a hot spring resort.

This will make Japanese people in Iraq feel like they're coming home.

Under the cover of night, a Japanese man in a suit with a mustache hurriedly ran into the hot spring resort, greeted the manager who was standing at the door greeting guests, and went straight into the backyard.

Walking into the innermost, largest hot spring pool, the man opened his briefcase, took out a document, and handed it to the men in the pool.

"Mr. Hirakawa, this is the land acquisition contract you signed. Please keep it safe!"

"This time, you have purchased a total of 618538.3 square meters of land. Due to its excellent irrigation conditions, the price of this land is $10 per square meter. In addition, you will need to pay a deed tax of $0.5 per square meter and a brokerage fee of $0.1 per square meter."

"Once the deed tax and agency fee are paid, you will receive the complete certificate, and then the land will be yours!"

Hirakawa Ichiro didn't pay attention to what the man said. He held the contract in both hands, quickly read through the first few pages, and then quickly turned to the last page.

The last page is a floor plan of the land he purchased this time. The land looks like a trapezoid, and the sides of the trapezoid are irrigation canals.

Irrigation canals drawn from the Tigris River.

$10 per square meter, that's cheap!
Hirakawa Ichiro looked at the contract for a while, then stood up from the pool with a splash, holding the contract and walking naked towards the innermost changing room.

When he came out again, the contract in his hand was gone.

Instead, they replaced it with a bottle of sake and a few cups.

Returning to the pool, he poured a glass for each of the other people there, then raised his glass:
"Ladies and gentlemen, I have said before that although Iraq is in chaos, it is full of opportunities."

"Now, let's raise a glass to opportunity!"

The others in the hot spring pool also raised their glasses one after another, "Let's toast to opportunity!"

After finishing his drink, Hirakawa Taichiro put down his glass and, with the air of someone who had been through it all, said:
“Japan has few resources and a shrinking population, so its markets will eventually collapse.”

"What we need to do now is move our stuff out. Iraq is a chaotic country, but it's perfect for speculators like us."

“We buy land here, a little bit every year, and in 10 or 20 years, we will be big landowners.”

"We can then use these lands to reap the benefits of others!"

"Making money while lying down!"

Hearing this, the men who had been drinking earlier gathered around with great interest. "Mr. Hirakawa, what are you planning to do with this land, grow wheat or something else?"

"You can't make money by farming, can you?"

"As long as you have a monopoly, you can make money. If you don't know how, look to the agricultural cooperatives!"

"That would have to be done on a large scale!"

"Let's acquire more land!"

"Hahaha!"

As they were having a pleasant conversation, two water trucks appeared at each end of the 13th block.

Then, people dressed in American soldier uniforms with epaulets on their shoulders started the water trucks and drove them from both ends.

After driving a little further, the sprinkler truck turned on its nozzles, but instead of water, it sprayed out gasoline.

The water trucks moved quickly. Because it was nighttime, there were no other cars or people around. The four water trucks, traveling in opposite directions, covered a distance of less than 500 meters in less than a minute, turned at the corner, and disappeared from sight.

The strong smell of gasoline lingered as the water truck drove away.

Sensing something was wrong, the Japanese people came out of the shops, intending to drive away, but found that the end of the street was blocked by several large trucks.

They recalled the news they had heard in the past two days.

Terrorists have infiltrated the city, and many departments are coordinating efforts to find them.

Now, could it be that those terrorists have run into the streets of Japan?

Just as they were thinking this, the tarpaulin on the front of the large truck blocking their way was lifted, revealing a machine gun mounted on the front of the truck.

The next second, in the dark night, the machine gun began to spew fire.

At the same time, the truck drivers all took out their lighters, lit them, and then threw them toward the houses not far away.

Gasoline is highly volatile, and when the volatile gasoline molecules come into contact with the flame of a lighter, they are ignited instantly.

With a whoosh, two fiery dragons sped from both sides of the street toward the center. In just two or three seconds, each of them traversed the 250-meter-long street, colliding violently like two giant dragons vying for the throne.

The moment they collided, the flames spread rapidly outwards from the point of impact.

In an instant, the roar of machine guns, the crackling of flames, and the screams of dying people all converged together, one after another, making people's eardrums ache.

The flames were burning and disrupting Hirakawa Taichiro and the others' bathing.

Hirakawa Taichiro called for a waiter, but instead of a waiter, flames carrying gasoline arrived.

Seeing the raging fire, the group of people who had just been chatting and laughing with Hiragawa Ichiro quickly jumped into the pool, hoping to use the water to save their lives.

Noticing their actions, Hirakawa Ichiro didn't call out to them. Instead, he got up, casually threw on a bathrobe, and ran towards the back door.

Houses in Iraq have brick or mud walls, and even the worst ones are still mud walls.

At this moment, the earthen wall is almost on fire.

Hiding in a hot spring pool will not only get you boiled, but you'll also suffocate.

Run now, run towards the back door, there might still be a chance of survival!
He ran to the back door, where he met the hot spring resort manager, who shared the same idea. Both of them were fat. They looked at each other and then slowly opened the back door.

As soon as they opened the door, a dark, shadowy thing came towards them. They quickly closed the door, but before they could, the dark thing landed on the ground behind them.

Hirakawa Ichiro turned around and finally saw what it was.

Grenade!

A grenade with its pin pulled, hissing and emitting blue smoke.

Just as he was about to open the door and rush out, a grenade exploded behind him. With a loud bang, fragments of the explosion came flying from behind him, the sharp and tough grenade shards piercing his back and embedding themselves deep into his lungs.

He opened his mouth to shout, to call for help from the curator next to him, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a mouthful of blood gushed out of his throat. Apart from the gushing blood, the rest of the blood went into his throat and blocked it completely.

Beside him, the curator watched as Hirakawa Ichiro collapsed, patted his chest, and cautiously leaned towards the back door, trying to hear what was happening outside.

He pressed his ear against it and seemed to hear the sound of an electric motor turning, and then something else moving.

Before he could even grasp the situation, a series of bangs rang out as bullets shattered the wooden door blocking the room.

Then he bumped into him again, and in the blink of an eye, the curator was riddled with bullets.

He collapsed like a sieve. After a while, the door was pushed open from the outside, and several Arab-looking men approached. They checked the people on the ground and confirmed that they were all dead. These Arabs stepped over the corpses and began to ransack the place where there was no fire.

They had only been searching for a short while when the flames spread completely, forcing the Arabs to stop what they were doing and turn to run away.

(End of this chapter)