American Comic Dimensional Trading Device

Moreover, these young Native Americans who joined the army were generally unwilling to return to the desolate desert.

However, due to social exclusion, they find it difficult to find good jobs.

Therefore, after Blackwater International was established, Aldo recruited a lot of Native American soldiers, especially Navajo, many of whom were recruited by the military as codebreakers.

The U.S. military began recruiting Native Americans and using their language as a code during World War I.

During World War I, a large number of Choktao people were recruited into the army.

It was also because of this factor that Native Americans finally gained citizenship more than a decade after the end of World War I.

Yes, it's a ridiculous joke. The oldest people who have lived on this land for generations were not recognized as citizens of the United States for over a hundred years. They were simply considered foreigners living on this land until 24 years ago, in 1924, when they were granted citizenship. Their status and treatment were far worse than that of Black people.

In the early stages of World War II, the U.S. military used the language of the Choktau people as a code, which had long been cracked by Japanese spies. As a result, U.S. military telegrams were repeatedly deciphered by the Japanese, causing great losses to the U.S. military.

Soon after, the U.S. military recruited many Navajo people to replace the Choktau people because their native language was more complex and fewer people understood it.

This also made the US military's telegraphic codes the most difficult codes in the world to decipher.

In his past life, Josie starred in a flop production directed by Wu Baige, "Windtalkers," starring Nicolas Cage, the king of bad movies, which told a similar story.

However, after the end of World War II, these Native American soldiers returned to their pre-war status after being discharged from the army—they were ostracized by mainstream society and found it difficult to find even a decent job in the city, only able to do manual labor.

As for returning to the reserve, they were unwilling, because they had adapted to life outside and did not want to go back to live a hard life.

It was under these circumstances that Aldo recruited many Native American soldiers after establishing Blackwater International.

That's right, this Jeep team is from Blackwater International, and Aldo, the general manager, is in the co-pilot's seat.

Therefore, there were quite a few Native American soldiers in this convoy.

For these people, returning to the reservation is like returning home—even though they don't particularly like this home.

“Boss, it’s the tribe’s sentry eagle!” An Indian soldier sitting in the back seat of the jeep spotted the eagle circling overhead and said to Aldo in the passenger seat. Although he had retired from the military, Blackwater International basically followed the tradition within the army that officers preferred to sit in the passenger seat rather than the back seat.

“I saw it… What do you think about capturing a batch of bald eagles to raise when we actually migrate?” Aldo looked at the hawks in the sky and suddenly asked his subordinates, his thoughts wandering.

"Uh, I don't know, boss. I'm not well-educated enough to comment on migration matters." The subordinate was somewhat at a loss when Aldo asked such a nonsensical question.

“Oh, be more confident, Bresta. I’ve told you before, you have a unique talent. If it were a few hundred years ago, you would have been a hero of the Indians. But you need to change your personality!” Aldo said with a helpless glance at his subordinate.

Aldo's assessment was met with a chuckle from his subordinates, who offered no rebuttal.

This subordinate named Bresta was very young, only 17 years old.

Unlike some other Native American soldiers who had served in the army, Aldo found this young Native American at a construction site. The guy was having a little trouble, and Aldo happened to be passing by and helped him out.

Unexpectedly, the other party turned out to be from the same tribe as him.

It's not surprising, though. Because of his background, Aldo was taken away from his tribe by his mother when he was very young and lived outside. He rarely returned to his tribe. After his mother passed away a few years ago, he never returned to his tribe again. His uncle, on the other hand, would occasionally go back to visit him and bring him some things.

So it's normal not to be familiar with people in the clan.

It was fate that they met. He took a liking to this young man, who wasn't doing very well, so he recruited him into Blackwater.

As the general manager of Blackwater International, he does have this much power.

Moreover, this wasn't considered favoritism on his part. This kid named Bresta had reached Blackwater International's recruitment standards in a very short time, and was even stronger than many veterans.

The only problem is that he is a bit introverted.

This is the complete opposite of Aldo's perfection.

However, Bresta was right about one thing: he was indeed not well-educated. The education level of Native Americans was extremely backward, and they could not attend white schools. Their horizons were still very narrow, so he could not say anything about whether the tribe should migrate.

"Boss, it's the patrol team!" Before he could finish speaking, the driver had already slowly brought the car to a stop.

The reason was simple: a cavalry unit of twenty or thirty men had appeared ahead of the convoy, blocking its path and carrying guns.

The traditional Native American clothing worn by these cavalrymen identified them as a patrol of the Navajo tribe of the Aldo Mothers.

“I am Aldo, grandson of Quechaun!” Aldo shouted to the other person in the local language as he got out of the car.

Quechaon was Aldo's maternal grandfather's name, but in the Native American language, grandson and great-grandson mean the same thing.

"The chief has such a grandson?" Upon hearing this, the Indians on patrol looked at each other in surprise. Most of them looked old because of the harsh environment they lived in, but they were actually younger than Aldo, so they were not familiar with him. Even if they knew him before, they had basically forgotten about him over the years.

For a moment, the atmosphere was a little awkward.

Fortunately, at this time, Bresta and some other Navajo soldiers also got off the vehicle.

“Uncle Cody, it’s me, Bresta!” Bresta called out to an Indian in the opposite cavalry as he got out of the car.

"Bresta? Arce? Morales? You're all back?" The cavalrymen were all surprised to see the Native American soldiers getting out of the jeeps. These men had only been gone for a few years, and they were all around the same age. They were much more familiar with these men than with some random tribal chief's grandson.

With these people as witnesses, the cavalrymen believed that Aldo was indeed the chieftain's grandson, and so they led the caravan to continue their journey toward the tribe's settlement.

Another ten minutes or so later, the convoy finally arrived at the tribe.

The large convoy attracted the attention of the tribe members, and the discovery that many of the people in the convoy were compatriots who had gone out to fight in previous years immediately caused a sensation throughout the tribe.

The Navajo tribe led by Aldo's grandfather was quite large, numbering over eight thousand, making it a large tribe—in fact, all the Navajo tribes combined only numbered a little over one hundred thousand.

Even in 2005, the total number of Navajo people was only a little over 300,000.

This number is among the lowest for ethnic minorities in the United States.

They were the original inhabitants of this land, yet they could only live in the fewest of the country's most remote corners—how tragic!

The commotion outside the tribe also caught the attention of the tribe's leaders, and soon a group of people escorted an old man to the outside of the village.

"Aldo? Is that you?" A middle-aged man looked at Aldo from afar and asked incredulously.

This is Aldo's uncle. Because Aldo joined the army, he hadn't seen his nephew for many years, so he couldn't be sure of him at first, given the distance.

"It's me, Uncle, I'm back!" Aldo stepped forward and gave his uncle a big hug.

"Aldo? Is it really Aldo?" The old man beside Aldo's uncle was also extremely excited when he heard Aldo's identity. He was the chief of this tribe, Aldo's maternal grandfather, Quechaun.

The old chieftain was over seventy years old, a truly auspicious sign among Native Americans whose average lifespan was less than forty or fifty.

Compared to his uncle, who used to occasionally visit Aldo, Quicchan hasn't seen his grandson for over a decade since Aldo's mother passed away.

Looking at his robust grandson, Quechaun seemed to see his younger self, and then he thought of his poor daughter, and tears immediately streamed down his face.

Seeing his grandfather like this, Aldo was filled with mixed emotions.

Although he left the tribe at a young age, it was actually more his mother's wish. In his memory, he rarely returned to the tribe when he was a child, but the people in the tribe treated him well. His maternal grandfather would always prepare delicious food for him, and his uncle would visit him every year. So he had feelings for the tribe.

This is also why he wanted to promote tribal migration.

As a mixed-race individual, no one understood the tragic plight of Native Americans in this country better than him.

Although it meant abandoning their original land and crossing the ocean, he believed that with Josie's help, the Native Americans would be able to have a better life in Java.

Before he arrived, Josie had personally assured him that as long as the Native Americans went to Java, they would be treated as regular citizens, given land and the best education, and be able to escape poverty.

They might even be given strong weaponry to protect their own interests.

All they need to give is loyalty.

And putting everything else aside, what is there on the Native American reservation? Yellow sand and desert – it's a natural cage.

But in Java, in Sulawesi, there are beautiful rainforests, fertile land, abundant game, and marine resources.

No matter how you look at it, Sulawesi's natural conditions far surpass those of a reserve that is almost entirely desert.

For Josie, this sacrifice was negligible compared to the benefits he could gain from Sulawesi.

Because at this time, almost no one knew that Sulawesi contained nearly a quarter of the world's nickel resources.

In comparison, the nickel reserves of the Xia Kingdom, a major power, are less than one-seventh of those of Java.

As one of the most important metallic materials for human industrialization, nickel ore alone was enough to make the rulers of Sulawesi very rich.

This will also be one of the important sources of fiscal revenue for Java in the future.

But now, all of this will belong to Josie.

Moreover, the number of Native Americans is too small; there are fewer than one million Native Americans in the entire United States today.

Not to mention that it's impossible for all of these people to be willing to go to Java, even if they did go, they would still be a very small minority relative to the population of Sulawesi.

However, Josie was not worried that the Native Americans would suffer losses in Java after he armed them.

Although they were all "natives," the Native Americans were far more valiant and skilled in battle than the Javanese, and they were also much more hardworking. Josie's contributions to them could easily be rewarded in other ways.

In contrast, the indigenous people of Java are just as lazy in terms of labor production as the Black people.

There's no way around it; the natural resources are too abundant, and the land is too fertile.

If the forest is burned, you can just scatter some seeds and harvest the harvest. Why bother working hard from dawn till dusk?

“I see… migration?” Inside the chieftain’s tent, Quechaun fell into deep thought after hearing his grandson’s purpose.

The word "migration" reminded him of the days at the end of the last century when the United States imposed a large-scale reservation system on Native Americans, forcing them to leave their fertile lands and migrate to this desolate place.

Famine, disease, and massacres led to the extinction of large numbers of Native Americans during that period.

The bison, their main prey, were also slaughtered to extinction by Americans during that period (regional extinction, later restored by introduction from Canada).

So when he heard the word "migration," the old man, Quechaun, who had experienced a lot, felt his heart tremble.

I'm scared.

However, he also understood that the living conditions of the Native Americans could not possibly be worse than they were now.

So Quechaun was very interested in the fertile islands of Java that Aldo described.