Farming Life Starting in Africa

Barney simply looked down at his hands clasped on his knees, his voice carrying a hesitation that Tull rarely heard from him: "That's different. His Yin-Yang abilities can cover up the trouble he caused. He's the kind of person who can find a safe path even if he steps into a minefield, and he listens to me."

Barney sighed. "Gunnar is different. When he's in a position of power, he doesn't listen to anyone. Last mission, he even tried to hang the pirates on the ship. Man, do you know what that would have meant if he had actually done it?"

Tull paused, his hand gripping the tattoo gun. "I know."

He was the commando hub for the suicide squad; all of Barney's missions passed through his hands. If Gunnar had indeed hanged the pirate during a mission, their reputation would be utterly ruined once the news got out.

By then, no one would pay to hire a bunch of unruly mercenaries with pirate tendencies. Reputation may not mean much on the battlefield, but it's more useful than any gun when taking on missions and negotiating prices.

Tull gently placed the tattoo gun back on the worktable, took off his reading glasses, and rubbed the marks left by the temples of the glasses on both sides of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Barney, give him another chance. How about I talk to him?"

Barney paused for a moment. "Tull, can you get him to quit drugs?"

Tull shook his head. He himself had withdrawn from frontline missions because of his drug addiction, which gave him the opportunity to take over at Christmas.

He understood all too well the power of that thing; it would slowly take away your precious things, making you worthless until you finally rotted away.

As the two remained silent, the sound of a motorcycle came from outside the door, a sound completely different from the deep, resonant roar of a Harley.

Barney didn't even turn around; he recognized the voice from the rhythm: "Looks like our Santa Claus has arrived."

Tuer also looked up. "Yes, I could smell it from far away."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Christmas rode his bright orange Ducati into the tattoo shop. Ducatis are quite rare here; Harleys are the norm.

And they guessed that the date on Christmas Day wouldn't go well, otherwise he would definitely be fooling around at his girlfriend's house.

"Hey, did I miss something? Barney, why aren't you building a house on your farm? What fun did Tull bring you today?"

Barney didn't answer; he leaned back in his chair, watching Christmas's pathetic state. Tull, however, laughed first. "I bet twenty dollars this guy broke up with his girlfriend."

Barney, unusually humorous, shrugged and said, "I also bet he broke up with his girlfriend. So who will lose?"

Christmas seemed to have been stepped on, "Hey, we didn't break up, it's just that Lacey and I need some time to cool off."

Tull looked at Barney and, mimicking Christmas's tone, said, "Need some time to cool off?" He raised an eyebrow at Christmas as he spoke, "Christmas, that's the funniest joke I've heard all year. Before today, you hadn't seen her for over a month, right? So what if you admit you broke up with her? If I were Lacey, and I hadn't seen you for years, I wouldn't hang out with you either."

Christmas's expression had turned sour. He'd only been gone a little over a month, and Lacey already had a new lover, who was even moving into her house. Most importantly, apart from his hair, that guy couldn't compare to him in any way.

He came here just to have a drink and kill some time, but he didn't expect that Tull's mouth would be like it had been fed a biological weapon today.

Seeing that Christmas had a dark expression and seemed genuinely angry, Barney tried to smooth things over by showing Christmas his back.

"Hey Christmas, can you tell me how his tattoo looks?"

Taking advantage of the situation, Christmas placed the helmet on the counter, glanced at Barney's back, and then looked at the bird, unable to resist pursing his lips: "Still looks like a black hen. Barney, you should find a kid in the neighborhood to practice on. Tull is too old to handle a tattoo scalpel anymore."

Barney immediately became unhappy. He stood up, walked to the mirror, looked at his back from the side, and only breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that Christmas was just joking. "Come on, man, that's a crow."

However, this also dampened his desire to continue getting the tattoo today.

"Okay, that's enough for today. We'll finish the rest next time."

Tour didn't care; this wasn't the first time Barney had done this.

He stared at Christmas's head for a long time, as if measuring a piece of material that needed to be sculpted, and then Tours spoke.

"I've got a great idea, Christmas. You go and shave all that hair off your head, and I'll tattoo a pretty spiderweb on the top of your head." He said, gesturing in the air with his hand.

Then get a female spider tattooed next to your ear. Her long legs dangle down to your neck, making her your doorkeeper so bugs won't dare get in and bother you. That would be both avant-garde and sexy.

"Indeed, Christmas, that will make you even more charming," Barney said, lighting a cigar as he retaliated against Christmas for saying that he had a hen on his back.

Christmas looked at Tull's serious expression and then at Barney's nodding in agreement, and was speechless. His mood worsened today.

Seeing his stiff expression, Tours continued, "I feel particularly good today, full of creative passion."

Christmas looked up and saw a Gypsy woman leaning against the stairwell looking down; she was probably Tour's new lover for the day.

He looked away, feeling even more frustrated: "Maybe next time."

Barney chimed in from the sidelines, "Come on, trust him, Tull's technique is the best."

Tull chimed in, "Come on, give it a try. You won't lose anything. I'm being blessed by Lady Luck tonight, you have to believe me."

Christmas didn't answer. He turned around, drew a dagger from its holster, and without looking back, flicked his wrist. The dagger flew straight out and landed near the target not far away, missing the mark. This dashed his hopes of proving he was the luckiest person.

Tour glanced at the spot, bent down, and pulled a short knife from a scabbard on the side of his boot. Without aiming, he casually tossed it, and the knife pierced the bullseye. Christmas was back on the spot, and the scene became extremely awkward, but this also made Tour smile with great satisfaction.

Barney, however, broke the silence, saying, "Tull, I'm considering taking that mission."

"Ha, I knew it! How can you retire if you haven't earned enough money? If your wallet isn't fat enough, the tax authorities will take half your life every year."

Christmas asked curiously, "What kind of mission?"