Farming Life Starting in Africa

The bullet struck the tree trunk precisely, creating a small bullet hole about ten centimeters above and to the left of the knife handle.

Rosen clicked his tongue slightly and muttered under his breath, "The bullet trajectory is off to the left; this gun doesn't feel very good to handle."

Before he finished speaking, his wrist was as steady as a rock, and he pulled the trigger rapidly and repeatedly.

Two gunshots rang out in quick succession. The first bullet grazed the edge of the knife handle and struck the tree trunk, missing by a hair's breadth.

The second bullet hit the handle precisely, and the impact of the bullet slammed the knife deep into the tree trunk, embedding it even more firmly.

Giselle and Ares, standing to the side, were stunned, their faces filled with disbelief, utterly speechless.

In their view, it was entirely expected that Rosen's first shot would miss. After all, he was not familiar with the bullet trajectory of this gun. It was already an extraordinary talent for an unfamiliar pistol to hit a tree trunk from thirty meters away.

But who could have imagined that his next two shots would be legendary? One grazed the edge, and the other hit the hilt of the knife with pinpoint accuracy. Such precision is beyond the reach of ordinary people.

Rosen casually handed the gun back to Ares, his tone indifferent, with a hint of disdain: "This gun is terrible, the accuracy is poor, it's unacceptable."

Upon hearing this, Ares remained in shock, unable to recover for a long time, his expression complex.

Gisele, standing to the side, coughed awkwardly.

When it was Ares's turn to shoot, she gripped her sidearm tightly, stared intently at the hilt of the knife in the distance, aimed carefully for a long time, and finally pulled the trigger.

The bullet struck the tree trunk squarely, but it missed the tiny knife handle by a hair's breadth, not even glancing at it.

Ares instantly recognized the difference in skill and decisively abandoned the remaining two bullets. She knew perfectly well that her marksmanship was nowhere near Rosen's level, and continuing the fight would only be humiliating.

After losing in both racing and shooting, Ares was completely devastated, filled with frustration and resentment.

She glared at Rosen, raised her hand and gave him a hard nudge with her middle finger, expressing her displeasure in the most direct way.

Night fell like a thin veil of ink, gently shrouding the city's streets and alleys. The streetlights lit up one after another, casting warm yellow light on the asphalt road and casting long shadows of trees. The evening breeze carried the unique coolness of the night, causing the roadside plants to sway gently.

Rosen followed Giselle's car at a leisurely pace, keeping a steady distance.

When the car stopped downstairs at Giselle's apartment building, Rosen, carrying a bottle of Pinot Gris, walked straight up and pressed the elevator button.

Giselle followed behind, watching his practiced manner, a smile involuntarily creeping into her eyes, a faint curve appearing at the corner of her lips.

However, rather than teasing his overly familiar manner, she harbored a stronger curiosity, her gaze fixed on Rosen's wrist, where he wore a rather extravagant large watch.

"Now it's time to tell me your secret," Giselle said with a hint of languor.

Rosen glanced down at the tactical terminal on his wrist. "This thing? It's just a regular tactical watch, nothing special. It can just connect to my drones."

Upon hearing this, Gisele froze, her eyes widening in astonishment: "You actually used a drone?"

"Of course." Rosen shrugged, looking completely at ease. "I'm a newbie, while you guys are all seasoned veterans of street racing. I'm a complete novice here, I don't even know where I am. If I don't get some help and go head-to-head with you guys, I'll suffer a huge loss, won't I?"

Giselle stared at his face, her eyes filled with obvious suspicion. "Are you sure you're a complete beginner? You don't look like one at all. You're much more skilled at cornering than any of us!"

"Talent, I guess. I'm pretty good at everything, like marksmanship..."

Giselle thought about Rosen's marksmanship just now; it was indeed amazing!

Just as the two were chatting, the elevator made a soft "ding" and smoothly arrived at the floor.

Pushing open the elevator door, the scent that hit him was somewhat familiar; he had almost spent the night here last time.

Giselle took off her coat and casually draped it over the cabinet by the door, then reached out and took the bottle of wine from Rosen's hand.

The moment her fingertips touched the bottle, a cool sensation spread through her. Giselle paused, looking at Rosen with surprise: "Your wine... it's chilled?"

"Yeah, I just casually put a mini-fridge in my car. I keep some drinks and alcohol in there, so I can grab them whenever I want. It's super convenient," Rosen explained casually.

Giselle was both amused and exasperated upon hearing this.

These seasoned veterans, who had spent years honing their skills and experience in street racing, couldn't beat a novice.

Not only has the car been modified to an absurd degree, but it has also been thoughtfully equipped with a small refrigerator. Who knows, there might even be top-of-the-line features like a color TV and a large sofa hidden inside.

In comparison, these veteran players seem rather rough and perfunctory.

Giselle rolled her eyes at Rosen, a faint smile hidden in her eyes, picked up the cold wine bottle and turned to walk towards the kitchen, preparing to find wine glasses and a wine opener.

Rosen strolled leisurely into the living room, glanced around at the furnishings, and found them to be exactly the same as last time—clean and quiet.

"You said you have quite a few side jobs today, what exactly are they?"

The kitchen was filled with the soft rustling of dishes being rummaged through. Giselle, while searching through the cupboards, replied slowly, "These are all dangerous jobs. Your excessive curiosity isn't a good habit."

Rosen leaned back on the sofa, a playful smile playing on his lips. "I'm a rebellious person by nature. The more dangerous something is, the more interested I am. For example, you right now give me a rather dangerous feeling."

Giselle, who had just pulled out two large Bordeaux glasses, paused upon hearing this, raised her delicate eyebrows, and while unscrewing the cork of the wine bottle, casually asked, "Oh? How am I in danger?"

The warm light of the living room gently spilled out. Rosen squinted slightly, his gaze open and intense as he looked at the tall and graceful Giselle not far away. "If you look at me with those mesmerizing eyes a few more times, I'm going to fall completely in and never be able to climb out of your gentle trap."

These straightforward yet alluring words stirred something within Gisele.

She wasn't intimidated at all. She poured two glasses of light white wine, took the glasses, and slowly walked to the sofa, standing in front of Rosen.

Rosen reached out and took one of the glasses of wine, then moved aside to make room.

Giselle sat down next to him with ease, raised her hand and gently touched his wine glass, the crisp sound of glasses clinking echoing in the quiet living room.

Giselle said softly, "Congratulations on your victory again."

Rosen smiled and gently clinked glasses with her before taking a small sip.