Farming Life Starting in Africa

Lone Wolf glanced at him, his gaze not showing impatience, but rather as if he were judging whether this person was genuinely ignorant or deliberately trying to provoke him.

"I don't know how to operate that thing." He paused, as if he felt that his words might be misunderstood, and added, "Although I served in the army when I was young, not all soldiers know how to operate that thing."

In the United States, jet fighter training can only be conducted in the military. Private instructors don't have those kinds of planes, so how can they teach you?

Rosen really wanted to learn about fighter jets. He had already figured out that there was a Lockheed Martin global assembly plant for F-35s and F-16s near Dallas-Fort Worth, and that the airport there frequently had newly rolled-out test-flying aircraft coming and going.

He had done a lot of research online these past few days and knew about the flight route and time window.

If we could get our hands on one and put it up for auction online, we might be able to sell it for more than the price the US paid for it.

Of course, this idea is still a long way from being realized, but he doesn't mind putting it on his to-do list, even though he knows it's probably just wishful thinking.

Lone Wolf shook his head and said directly, "I can teach you about fixed-wing aircraft and rotary-wing aircraft. Which one are you interested in?"

"I want to learn them all, but which one is the easiest and quickest to learn?"

Lone Wolf said without hesitation, "Then let's learn fixed-wing aircraft, single-engine land-based aircraft. It's relatively easy to get started with that."

"Okay, where should we learn?"

"Come find me in Veslaco tomorrow morning. I'll arrange your lessons there." Lone Wolf glanced at Rosen as he spoke. "You know where Veslaco is, right?"

Rosen took out his phone and searched; it wasn't far from McCarran. "The map should be able to navigate there, right?"

These words made Lone Wolf a little frustrated, as this old-fashioned guy knew absolutely nothing about these electronic devices.

For him, a mobile phone is just a tool to make calls; he usually leaves it in his pocket and doesn't even have any social media apps installed.

What could have been resolved with a simple phone call today, he instead rode his motorcycle for over forty minutes to come and discuss in person.

He glanced at Rosen. "Alright, I'll be waiting for you there tomorrow morning. Come early."

Then he got on his motorcycle and prepared to leave.

Just then, the roar of an airplane came from the sky. The sound gradually approached from a distance, carrying the deep, low-frequency vibrations characteristic of twin-engine turboprop aircraft, and its steady movement could be felt even through a layer of clouds.

Rosen and Lone Wolf looked up at the same time. An albatross with a dark charcoal fuselage was flying in from the north, its altitude decreasing as if it were making a low-altitude flyby. Its wings cast a clear silhouette in the sunlight.

As the distance closed, the dark blue lettering on the fuselage became visible in the sunlight: "Global Wildlife Conservation Association".

Lone Wolf looked at the plane, a slight downward smirk playing on his lips. "How come I always run into this old guy everywhere I go?"

Rosen asked curiously, "You know him?"

Lone Wolf glanced at him, a hint of surprise in his eyes: "What? You know the owner of this plane too?"

"Yes, he's my neighbor." Rosen pointed south towards the farmland. "He lives over there."

Lone Wolf paused for a moment, then his gaze returned to Rosen's face. "That's really unfortunate. If you're going to be neighbors with him, your house had better be sturdy enough; that guy got into a lot of trouble when he was young. Alright, I'm off now. Remember to be early tomorrow."

He started the engine after he finished speaking, and the sound of the engine rose again at the edge of the empty farm. The exhaust fumes lingered in the air for a moment before being dispersed by the wind.

It seems Lone Wolf doesn't miss his old friend Barney.

Rosen found the old man's words rather strange, but he agreed with Lone Wolf's assessment that his house was definitely sturdy enough.

But even a strong person can't be bullied, and he even wondered if being neighbors with Barney would bring him bad luck.

The albatross circled once over the distant lake, then lowered its altitude, tilted its wings, and slowly decelerated on the water. When the floats under its fuselage touched the water, they created two thin, white streaks.

A short while later, the albatross landed on the lake, and a small kayak slid out from the rear door. Five burly men squeezed into the medium-sized inflatable kayak, with the edge of the boat pressed less than a hand's width above the water. If it tilted even slightly, it would probably take on water.

As Rosen got closer, he realized there were six people in the kayak, and an even larger man lying at their feet, presumably injured. His chest was rising and falling, but not significantly.

However, the treatment was probably not very good; Rosen saw several feet placed on this unfortunate wounded soldier.

Among them was an older version of Wong Fei-hung, whose foot seemed to be placed just below the wounded soldier's abdomen, and his toes would occasionally twitch slightly...

Barney saw Rosen too. He raised his hand slightly, as if to say hello, but froze halfway through. The movement pulled at his left rib area, and the pain from the wound made his face contort in pain.

Yin Yang looked at the tall, clearly Asian young man and asked, "Barney, is that your neighbor?"

"He's a kid from China," he gestured with his chin towards Rosen, "easy to talk to, and pretty rich too..."

Barney thought of the cost of Rosen's house and shook his head. He had come back wounded and bruised, earning his living by risking his life; he couldn't bear to build such an expensive house.

The wounded soldier lying at the bottom of the ship suddenly grinned and chuckled. "A Chinese? Heh, another shorty, perhaps?"

The words had barely left his mouth when his smile froze. The foot that had been pressing down on his sensitive area pressed down, not with much force, but at a tricky angle. The injured man's laughter was cut short, as if something had blocked it.

The others watched this scene without intervening; some even wore smug, amused smiles, while others simply whistled.

Gunnar has really offended them this time. If Barney hadn't insisted on bringing him back, Gunnar would definitely have been left on that island to die.

After a long while, feeling that Gunnar was about to go into shock from the pain, Barney slowly said, "Alright, Yin Yang, castrating him won't do you any good."

The foot finally moved a little, and the pressure eased. Gunnar took a couple of deep breaths, his face even paler than before.

The kayak finally reached the shore. The bottom of the boat scraped against the pebbles on the shallows with a rough scraping sound, and the boat rocked twice before coming to a stop.

Christmas was the first to jump in, splashing water as his feet touched the muddy surface of the shallow water. He glanced down at his boots, clicked his tongue, and then shook his feet.

"Barney, you should build a dock here, otherwise we'll have to take this shabby little boat every time we come down, it's too crowded."