Farming Life Starting in Africa

This guy is clearly getting cocky.

What he probably meant to say was, "We rescued more than twenty hostages on the Iron Army's territory."

But can you say such things on a warship? In front of the naval captain? You, a former special forces soldier, a scrap collector friend, and an intelligence broker, stormed into an armed group's stronghold and rescued more than twenty hostages?

This isn't heroism, it's bizarre. Who would believe it if I told them? Besides, it's too much trouble to explain.

Rosen didn't want to go to Basem town like that.

There were not only mercenaries from the Dane Company there, but also members of the Zaka organization; they had a regular army-level configuration.

He only dared to lead a few people there to rescue people because he had drunk fake alcohol; hundreds of elite armed men would teach him a lesson with their actions.

"Then... what should we do?"

Rosen turned to look at Gao Yun, who had been silent the whole time.

Gao Yun stood in front of the nautical chart table, his hands supporting him on the tabletop, his body leaning slightly forward, his brows furrowed into a "川" shape.

"Captain Gao," Rosen said sincerely, "I'll leave this matter to your navy."

Gao Yun was speechless. As a soldier, upon hearing that a Chinese citizen had been kidnapped, his first reaction was naturally to rescue them. It was his duty, his inescapable responsibility. This was a soldier's calling, something ingrained in his very being.

But he's not a general in a Hollywood movie who can send troops at will. He has his own procedures, his own superiors, and the discipline and rules he must follow.

Moreover, they knew nothing about the situation in the town of Basem, yet they went to rescue people; that would be irresponsible to their own soldiers.

"Let's wait until we've confirmed the intelligence," Gao Yun finally said, his voice calm and restrained. "You all go and rest first. We'll let you know if there's any progress. Don't act rashly before you have definite information."

Rosen nodded, and the group walked out of the bridge.

The sea breeze at night carried a salty, fishy smell.

The warship's sidelights cast a faint, warm glow in the darkness, illuminating the figures on the deck. In the distance, the harbor lights were scattered, like a plate of overturned pearls strewn across a black velvet surface.

Rosen put his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky. The moon was mostly obscured by clouds, with only a crescent moon showing, like a curved sickle hanging in the sky.

"Alright, let's go rest first. If we want to cause trouble for the Dane Company, we'd better have the Navy's help. They're elite mercenaries, not those small-time thugs from the Iron Army. Besides, we still need to wait for Lao Zhou's intelligence."

Leng Feng stood beside him, his hands gripping the railing of the ship's gunwale, his knuckles white from the force. He stared silently at the dark sea in the distance.

Rosen patted him on the shoulder. "Come on, go to sleep. You need to be healthy to avenge your wife."

The three men followed the guards back down the deck. Miao Feng brought up the rear, glancing at the two men walking alongside him, then at the endless darkness in the distance. He gritted his teeth and said, "Xiao Luo, I still want to go with you this time. There are only three of you; you don't even have enough people to drive. I don't want to go entirely for the money. If you hadn't rescued me, I might still be in that cellar..."

Rosen turned and looked at him with surprise, then, seeing the serious look in Miao Feng's eyes, asked, "Have you thought it through?"

"Um!"

The three of them disembarked that night and slept in the car. There were no seats left on the boat, so if they wanted to sleep on the boat, they would have to sleep in the aisle, which was crowded.

The sailors on the Linyi ship either sleep on the floor or take a nap at their posts; it's quite tough for them.

Ma Xiao and his wife, Pan Wenjia, were put on a Chinese cargo ship, where the environment was relatively spacious and there were medical staff available. They were waiting for dawn the next day to leave Ivia and head to the safer Djibouti.

Nothing happened that night; Rosen and Miao Feng slept quite well. Only Leng Feng's mind was in turmoil, and it wasn't until the early hours of the morning that he finally forced himself to close his eyes.

As dawn broke, a pale white hue appeared on the eastern horizon, and the port was still shrouded in a thin layer of morning mist.

"Buzzing—buzzing—"

Rosen's phone vibrated. He picked it up groggily, and this time it was Zhou Weijie calling.

Zhou Weijie's voice came through the receiver, sounding noticeably tired and hoarse, "Honey Badger, where are you?"

"Still at the port, any news?"

"Let me get here first."

After hanging up the phone, Rosen tossed it aside, rubbed his eyes, and began to think.

If we're going to Basem, are all these things in the car impressive enough? Should we secretly stuff some more exciting stuff into the car?

Anyway, most of his wealth was in the capsule. Putting aside everything else, the TNT inside was enough to blow up all the buildings in that small town.

The visible firepower configuration is that the ZU-23 anti-aircraft gun is mounted on the back of the pickup truck, and a few people have several rifles. Leng Feng also brought his M40A1 and Barrett rifle.

Twenty-five Claymore mines, a bunch of rifle grenades. There were also more than forty flying drones carrying pumpkin bombs, a folded M1 81mm mortar, plus six boxes of ammunition (3 shells per box).

Although Zhou Weijie and Leng Feng already thought that what he brought was already quite extraordinary, Rosen still felt that its power was somewhat lacking.

For the average military enthusiast, the items in his vehicle would be enough to wage a small battle.

But Rosen wasn't a typical military enthusiast. He suffered from severe paranoia, always feeling that he didn't have enough gear and fearing that he would be surrounded by guns at the next second.

He wouldn't even need a Type 1130 close-in weapon system; a Type 730 would be perfect. He could just sweep the town around with that thing, and it wouldn't matter if you were a mercenary or a terrorist, a pickup truck or a tank—everyone would be equal, no worries.

Less than twenty minutes later, Zhou Weijie's familiar attire came into view: a headscarf and a familiar crossbody bag.

He didn't walk over directly, but stopped in the corner, looked around first, then leaned against a utility pole and began to survey his surroundings.

After a while, he slowly walked over, opened the pickup truck door, and plopped down inside.

Rosen rolled down the car window and asked curiously, "What's wrong?"

Zhou Weijie removed his headscarf and coat, and a strong stench of sweat hit you. "Where are they?"

Rosen pointed a few meters behind him, "They're sleeping in that car."

"Let's go," Zhou Weijie said, "to that car, we'll talk there."

Rosen, completely bewildered, followed him and opened the door of the BJ40.

Leng Feng and Miao Feng were awakened by the sound of the door opening. Leng Feng reacted the fastest; his hand was already on the hilt of the knife under the chair. He only slowly released it when he saw that it was Rosen and Zhou Weijie.