Farming Life Starting in Africa

Swagger looked even more disheveled than when he was fished out of the river.

He was completely unlike his usual calm and sharp demeanor. He was covered in oil and dust, with a dirty rag casually wrapped around his head. He looked as disheveled as a car mechanic who had just finished a job. No one would guess that he was a top ace capable of sniping from a thousand meters away.

His clothes were already soaked with dark red blood, and blood was still seeping out. The excruciating pain from the gunshot wound continued to torment him; his forehead was covered in a fine layer of cold sweat, and his face was pale, but he still forced himself to stand.

Swagger approached the vehicle, his eyes filled with intense wariness as he stared intently at the Asian man inside. "A friend of the honey badger?"

Rosen looked him up and down. This guy was really tough. He had been shot twice and suffered penetrating wounds. An ordinary person would have been lying down and going into shock long ago. But he had managed to travel over a thousand kilometers and his spirits were still pretty good.

Rosen said calmly, "You can call me Lion."

Swagger's gaze swept over the Dodge pickup truck in front of him; the vehicle looked incredibly valuable.

The rear of the car was completely covered by a tarpaulin, making it impossible to see what was inside, which made him even more unsure of Rosen's background.

"I'll go find someone first; she can let me hide for a while," Swagger said in a deep voice.

Rosen immediately understood; he knew without even guessing that this kid was after Donnie's girlfriend.

She silently added to herself: Strictly speaking, she was practically a widow, but it was a pity that the two of them hadn't registered their marriage or held a wedding beforehand, and ultimately they were just one step short.

Otherwise, Swag's Night Raid on Widow Village buff would be fully stacked.

"Hurry up if you're going." Rosen didn't bother with any more words. "Your wound is still bleeding; if you delay any longer, it will easily get worse."

Swagger simply abandoned his beat-up pickup truck on the side of the road, opened the door, and got into Rosen's car without looking back.

That way, the car he drove will soon have a new owner.

Once seated, Rosen pulled a box of Tramadol from the first-aid kit in the back seat and tossed it onto Swagger's lap.

"Eating it will make you feel less pain."

Swage picked up the medicine box and glanced at it, recognizing it as a weak opioid analgesic, which was just enough to suppress the excruciating pain from the gunshot wound.

Without hesitation, he poured out the pills and swallowed them. A moment later, his nerves, which had been tense all day, finally relaxed a little.

They sped along and soon arrived near Sarah's house. Rosen deliberately found a secluded corner to park.

"You go ahead, I'll wait for you in the car."

Swagger nodded and got out of the car alone to knock on the widow's door.

Rosen lifted the medical kit from the back seat. It was quite complete, containing sterile gloves, flushing syringes, hemostatic forceps, suture needles and sutures, surgical forceps, gauze, elastic bandages, and a full set of surgical instruments.

There was an ample supply of medicines, including tramadol, lidocaine, tetanus shot, oral rehydration salts, cephalosporin antibiotics, ibuprofen, and mupirocin ointment. From pain relief, anti-inflammation, and infection prevention to postoperative care, these medications were able to steadily control Swagger's two gunshot wounds.

After waiting for quite a while, Swagger finally returned and said, "Drive the car in and park it in the garage."

Rosen started the pickup truck as instructed and slowly drove it into the small yard garage. It must be said, detached houses in the US are truly convenient; the garage space is spacious enough to easily accommodate a pickup truck.

The two entered the house one after the other. The room was softly lit and quiet.

Sarah was sitting on the sofa, lost in thought, holding her phone. Seeing the two strangers enter, she snapped back to reality, her gaze falling on Rosen with a questioning look: "Who is this?"

"This is the helper I found. He brought a full set of medical supplies and can treat my gunshot wound," Swagger explained simply.

As soon as she finished speaking, Sarah's phone suddenly vibrated. The unexpected ringtone startled her so much that she almost dropped the phone.

She glanced at Swagger and Rosen, trying to appear calm, then took a deep breath and answered the phone.

In the quiet room, the voice on the other end of the phone rang clearly: "This is the 911 emergency call center. We just received your call, but the connection was dropped, so we're calling back to confirm the situation. Have you encountered any danger?"

Rosen was stunned, finding it quite outrageous, and he looked at Swagger.

This is the reliable person you were talking about taking you in? You barely stepped out the door and she called the police. What, does the police station have better medical facilities?

Swag himself looked embarrassed, turning his head away from Rosen, his lips twitching slightly. He had thought he had found a safe place to stay, but he almost ended up being surrounded by the authorities.

Sarah's cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. She quickly explained into the phone, "I'm so sorry, it was a misunderstanding. My neighbor's dog knocked over the trash can and scared me, but it's all right now."

Without waiting for the other party to say anything more, he quickly hung up the phone.

She forced herself to remain calm and explained to the two of them, "I accidentally dialed the police number and hung up without saying anything. This is their follow-up call."

Rosen was truly helpless. He waved his hand and said, "If it's inconvenient, we can go somewhere else. It's not difficult for me to find a safe hiding place. There's no need to take risks here."

Sarah immediately spoke up, "No need to leave, I can stay here. Swagger's wound can't wait any longer, it needs to be treated immediately."

Swagger turned to Rosen, his tone resolute: "I believe her."

Rosen shrugged, completely speechless. Since the person in question had expressed their trust, why should an outsider like him worry? He'd just watch the show unfold.

At this point, the painkiller took full effect, greatly relieving Swagger's pain. He felt much more relaxed and was no longer covered in cold sweat or tense and stiff.

He walked slowly to the photo of Donnie displayed in the living room, and looking at the smiling face of his former comrade-in-arms, his expression instantly turned somber.

"I should have come to see you sooner," he murmured, filled with remorse.

Sarah thought she was being spoken to, and replied softly, "It's okay. I received all the letters, flowers, and money you sent these past few days."

Swagger was taken aback, but quickly recovered. He turned to look at Sarah. "It's all my fault. I didn't bring Donnie back..."

This made Rosen, who was listening nearby, so embarrassed that he kept digging his toes into the soles of his shoes.

Just as the two were about to get sentimental and reminisce, Rosen, unable to bear it any longer, interrupted, "Hey you two, could you please stop reminiscing for a moment? Swagger, your wound has healed, right? Shall I put my first-aid kit away?"

A single sentence broke the somber atmosphere, instantly turning the scene into a bittersweet one.

Swagger snapped out of his daze and turned to look at him: "Are the medicine and equipment all ready? Do you know how to stitch up wounds?"

Rosen grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "My specialty is creating wounds, not stitching them up. But if you don't mind, I could give it a try."