Farming Life Starting in Africa

Tull took a puff from his pipe, squinted, and said, "A mission issued by a CIA executioner. The details need to be confirmed by Barney in Austin; I only received the invitation."

"How much money?" Christmas asked, concerned about the most important thing.

Tull said in a good mood that it was perfect for him that Barney was willing to take the mission; he could get a 10% cut from every mission. "It all depends on how much Barney can get; anyway, the CIA said the budget is sufficient."

"Oh ho ho, then we might just make a fortune this time." Christmas's mood improved considerably.

Barney timely poured cold water on the idea, saying, "It might also cost us our lives."

Two days later, in Austin, the capital of Texas, a church was hidden deep in an old neighborhood, with sycamore trees in front of it casting shadows on most of the brick wall.

When Barney arrived, the sun was already setting, and he was almost past his appointed time. He pushed open the door and went inside. The light inside the church was several degrees dimmer than outside, and the stained glass windows on the walls cut out mottled patches of color.

There were already two people in the church.

A bald white man sat on the left side of the first row of benches, wearing a well-fitting suit but no tie.

Another person sitting towards the back was an elderly Asian man with gray hair, sitting upright with a straight back. He didn't even turn around when he heard the church doors open.

When the bald white man saw Barney come in, his gaze lingered on him for a moment, then he gave Barney a comfortable smile and waved.

Barney surveyed the church for a moment, then walked towards the bald white man. Watching the Asian man's retreating figure, he asked, "Are there other teams available for this mission?"

"Of course," the bald white man replied gently. "This task is a bit difficult, and the location is somewhat dangerous, so I'd like to see who among you is willing to take it."

When Barney heard "a bit difficult," he didn't show any expression on his face. He had completed many difficult tasks before.

"As long as the price is right, I don't care where I work or how dangerous it is, understand? We don't need to waste time; just give me the task. May I start by introducing yourself?"

The bald white man's expression remained unchanged. He looked at Barney and waited for him to finish speaking before speaking, "I know your real name, maybe not Barney Ross. A name is just a label, and you can also call me Church."

Barney's gaze briefly shifted, sweeping over the motionless Asian man sitting on the bench. The man remained silent, neither speaking nor turning his head to look at him, simply sitting there quietly, as if waiting for someone unrelated to him to finish speaking first.

"Okay, church, what can I do for you?"

"Wait a moment," the church said gently. "I'm waiting for someone. They'll be here soon, not too long."

Barney's brow twitched slightly. "What kind of task requires interviewing three people at the same time? I mean, you didn't explain this beforehand when you called me here. Asking three people to compete for one job doesn't seem appropriate to me."

Before the church could say anything more, the church doors were pushed open from the outside.

A tall figure stood in the doorway. His face was not clearly visible in the backlight, but Barney could recognize him without even looking at his face. He sighed, looked down at the tips of his boots, as if whispering something to his feet.

"Why is there always this troublesome guy everywhere I go?"

The church gave Barney amusement. "Seeing your old friend so unhappy?"

Barney shrugged. "Of course I'm unhappy. I should have shot him back then."

The man raised the burning cigar in his hand and waved to Barney from halfway across the church. "Hey, big Barney Ross."

Barney raised his hands in response, his tone equally familiar, "You rat in the trenches. You still look like you need a good beating?"

The newcomer didn't care about the form of address. He took a few steps closer, stopped near Barney, and looked him up and down: "What are you doing here? Praying that God will give you food?"

His gaze lingered on Barney's face for a moment. "Have you been feeling unwell lately? Are you short of money for medical treatment? You've lost weight. You should have told me how much you need for medical expenses. I can give you a few cents."

Barney stared into his eyes. "Really? You're so generous. Next time you go to the dentist, make sure he pulls all your teeth out; you'll be cuter that way."

The church watched the two of them attacking each other, a slight smirk playing on its lips. "Alright, your humor time is over. Now it's time to talk about our mission and see who wants to take on this job."

The Asians on the bench also turned their heads and focused their attention on it.

The church said unhurriedly, "Have you ever heard of a small island called Veranna?"

Barney answered without hesitation, "No."

Zhanhao raised his chin slightly, his tone carrying a smug "finally it's my turn to fill in the background information" vibe: "I know. It's a small island in the bay."

The church glanced at the trenches, then at Barney. "Yes. My men are very interested in some of the island's specialties. There used to be a small port there, a transit point for smuggling ships. What we want is now in the hands of some people, and they've become less compliant."

"Was it General Garza who did it? He overthrew the interim government. He now controls all the resources on the island."

As he said this, Zhanhao narrowed his eyes. He knew what the most valuable resource on the island was, and immediately lost interest in the mission.

The church nodded. "That's right. My people have had a minor disagreement with this political fanatic named Garza."

Hearing this, Barney had a rough idea of ​​the mission's outline: "So you want Garza out of here?"

The church's gaze darkened. "No, I want him dead. I don't want him to continue controlling that island. He and his partners need to be completely eliminated."

Zhancho clapped his hands. "This will probably require a small unit. Of us, only an idiot would do this job. I bet that idiot's gone broke lately."

As he spoke, he gave Barney a meaningful look, his attention completely elsewhere than on the unremarkable Asian man. He had no recollection of this Asian man either; there was no such person in the mercenary circle.

At his age, could he be a newbie? He doesn't look any younger than Barney.