Farming Life Starting in Africa

Zhuo Weixi glanced at her brother; he still had a band-aid next to his nose. The factory's security supervisor said that this silly brother hadn't gripped his Desert Eagle properly while handling it, and the recoil was so strong that the gun bounced up and hit him in the face. You know, he's a grown man, he's always buying guns, but he ended up hurting himself first.

"Alright, let's go inside and wait." Zhuo Weixi said, pushing the door open.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Zhuo Yifan grabbed her and pointed to the roof of the second floor of the small building in the courtyard. "Look there, at the very back right, there's a place covered by a cloth."

Zhuo Weixi looked over and indeed saw a camouflage cloth draped over the low wall of the second-floor roof, bulging and covering something.

"That's a twin anti-aircraft gun under there," Zhuo Yifan said in a low voice, looking lingeringly frightened. "The muzzle was leveled and pointed at the entrance. Last time he said that I came into the yard without his permission and he used that thing to harass me."

Zhuo Weixi couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Brother, you're his big client, you've spent tens of thousands of dollars. What kind of businessman shoots his own client? Besides, right here where we're sitting, if they really opened fire, wouldn't we be sitting right there as targets?"

After saying that, she pushed open the car door and got out, striding briskly into the inner courtyard. Her high heels clicked on the stone pavement, her back ramrod straight, and she asked Patrick in fluent English, "How long will it take for your boss to come down?"

Patrick shook his head and glanced at Zhuo Yifan, who was still hesitating in the car: "I don't know, the boss wants you to go in first."

Zhuo Yifan hesitated in the car for a long time. Seeing that his sister had gone inside, he felt a bit silly to be alone in the car. So he turned off the engine and followed her in, swaying from side to side.

Zhuo Weixi stood in the living room, looking around the small house. It was thirty-seven or thirty-eight degrees Celsius outside, but it was quite cool inside, with the air conditioning on full blast. The floor was spotless, and the furniture, though simple, was arranged neatly.

The windows were covered with densely packed steel bars, some as thick as a child's wrist, making it look like a cage.

Before long, the sound of footsteps came from the stairs, unhurried and steady. Rosen came down shirtless, his hair a mess, his eyes still a little dazed, clearly he hadn't had enough sleep.

His physique was truly impressive—an inverted triangle, bronze skin, broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and muscles sculpted like they'd been carved by a knife. Zhuo Yifan stared, his eyes wide with envy. Zhuo Weixi also secretly swallowed, though she didn't show it on her face.

"Oh, here comes the sissy," Rosen said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What toy do you want today?"

Zhuo Yifan immediately exploded. He hated being called a sissy, and if he weren't outmatched in a fight, he would have done it already. His eyes wide, his voice rising an octave, he blurted out angrily, "I want a tank! Do you have one?"

Rosen looked at him with a half-smile, his expression neither mocking nor serious: "If you can afford it, I'll sell you one."

Zhuo Yifan froze for a moment, his mouth opening and closing again. He was a little confused; to be honest, he really hadn't expected Rosen to have tanks. After several seconds, he managed to stammer out, "You really have them? What model? How much do they cost?"

Rosen didn't reply, but turned and opened the refrigerator, letting out a whoosh of cold air. He tilted his head and asked, "What would you like to drink?"

Zhuo Yifan plopped down on the sofa, crossed his legs, and said casually, "Whatever."

Rosen then turned to look at the woman beside him.

Zhuo Weixi blinked, her eyes were watery and her eyelashes were as long as fans: "Anything is fine."

Rosen almost burst out laughing when he heard their answers. They reminded him of a cheesy urban sitcom that was just missing the "I'll listen to you" part.

He took two bottles of drinks from the refrigerator and tossed one to one of them. Zhuo Yifan took it and saw that the bottle had the words "Lei Bi" written on it in big characters. The bright green packaging looked familiar yet unfamiliar.

Rosen pulled out a bottle of large green cigarettes, bit off the cap, gulped down a large mouthful, burped, and then slowly began to speak: "I have a Leopard 2A6 replica tank here—1500 horsepower engine, top speed 80 km/h, 1000 km range on a full tank. Composite armor with modular add-on armor, enhanced mine protection. As for firepower, it's equipped with a 120mm L55 main gun, 6-second reaction time, maximum range 5000 meters. There's an MG3A1 7.62mm coaxial machine gun to the left of the main gun. Only—five million US dollars! Buy the tank and get 42 rounds of ammunition, armor-piercing and high-explosive rounds of your choice, plus two thousand rounds of machine gun ammunition."

He rattled off the parameters as smoothly as reciting a menu, it was unbelievable.

This tank was actually a piece of scrap he brought back from an Egyptian military exhibition. He bought it for $80,000, at scrap metal prices. However, he gave the logistics manager extra money, telling him to keep the fire control system and not disassemble it, and he also got a complete set of maintenance blueprints.

He repaired it himself, thickening the armor and enlarging the fuel tank. He drove it around the desert east of the Uller several times, almost scaring the government troops so much that they thought the rebels had gone from muskets to tanks.

Later, his friends in the government forces persuaded him not to drive it around unless necessary, as it could easily cause trouble. As for asking them to pay for the tank, the government forces didn't have the money, and even if they did, they wouldn't spend it on that.

Hiring a soldier and issuing him an outdated rifle would only cost a few dollars, but the price of a tank is enough to hire an entire reinforced division. If they actually brought back a tank, it would be difficult to keep track of them and embezzle funds. Besides, the firepower of such a thing is currently far beyond their capabilities!

The Uller government forces had a decent relationship with Rosen; they would ask him to repair their weapons and cars when they had problems, and occasionally they would buy some high-powered landmines from him.

Rosen really didn't need the tank; he'd only bought it out of curiosity and novelty. It'd been sitting in the yard exposed to the elements, requiring constant maintenance—it was a real pain. He just wanted to find a sucker to take it over quickly.

Zhuo Yifan rolled his eyes after hearing this long string of questions. A small business owner from China, spending five million US dollars on a tank to play with while traveling abroad? This isn't some old-fashioned toy like the Tank 500. He was probably afraid his dad would fly over from China and run him over with a real tank.

He abruptly changed the subject: "Honey Badger, this is my sister, Zhuo Weixi. Did you save her last night?"

Lawson pulled a large piece of beef brisket from the refrigerator, then found a few ugly tomatoes and some small yellow potatoes before finally giving the woman a proper look.

Yes, she is indeed beautiful—her skin is so white it glows, her facial features are soft, her nose is high and straight, her eyelashes are so long they look fake, and her eyes are so bright and lively.

"Probably," Rosen tossed the beef brisket onto the cutting board. "Are you eating here for lunch?"

"What do you mean by 'should be'?" Zhuo Yifan protested. "I'll eat here, I want double portions!"