Farming Life Starting in Africa

Since we've decided to go to the US military base tonight to "buy some goods," it's best to do it sooner rather than later, striking while the iron is hot.

The journey of over twenty kilometers was just a matter of stepping on the gas, and we arrived at the outer perimeter of the base in no time.

The lights at Andrews Base were sparse late at night, and the quiet surroundings pleased Rosen. A cool evening breeze swept across the fence.

The protective facilities surrounding the US military base look impressive, but they are actually extremely flimsy. They are just a ring of barbed wire fences with reinforced metal railings to make a show of things, without even the most basic high-voltage electric fence.

This level of protection might seem quite secure to the average person, but to Lawson, it's no different from an open fence. Getting in is incredibly easy, as effortless as strolling through one's own backyard.

He changed his face to that of Ethan Hunt, whom he had seen during the day, and put on a U.S. military uniform.

In a way, this guy should thank himself. If Rosen hadn't helped him shoot down the enemy helicopter, there wouldn't be many of them alive.

So I'll just use his face as a way of paying off my debt. Ethan is such a generous person, he probably won't mind.

With a completely new look, Rosen strolled leisurely around the perimeter of the base, pinpointing a blind spot in the surveillance system.

There are no cameras or patrol posts here.

He took out his portable wire cutters and quickly cut through the barbed wire mesh, creating a gap large enough for a person to pass through. He entered the base with an almost absurd calmness throughout.

Our first target tonight is the armory inside the base.

But when he quietly crept to the door of the armory and observed the situation inside the guard post, he was instantly speechless.

How could the security in the armory of such a large US military base be so perfunctory?

There were only two guards on duty in the entire guard post, both of them slumped in their chairs, fast asleep, their heads nodding and snoring loudly, drool almost dripping from their mouths. They weren't even on duty, let alone providing security.

Rosen was secretly delighted. It was good that the American soldiers on guard duty were slacking off and taking a nap. It was truly a stroke of luck for him.

Rosen crept quietly into the armory and quickly scanned the entire inventory. His heart sank instantly; he was truly disappointed.

The huge armory was filled with nothing but ordinary, conventional light weapons, nothing special or interesting.

The heavy artillery, airborne cannons, and anti-aircraft missiles that he longed for were nowhere to be seen.

After looking around, the only things that could barely catch his eye were the FGM-148 Javelin anti-tank missile and a few M136 AT4 anti-tank rocket launchers, which could be considered somewhat valuable.

Even a mosquito's leg is still meat; something is better than nothing, and it's better than going home empty-handed.

Rosen stretched out several rolls of tape to firmly secure the indoor surveillance camera, eliminating any risk of being spied on.

He then took out a canister of liquid nitrogen and used it to freeze the lock cylinder of the armory's anti-theft lock. In a few seconds, he destroyed the lock's structure and easily unlocked the cabinet door with a single kick.

This shows how corrupt the US military is; even the locks in the armory are made with substandard materials.

After unlocking, Lawson officially began his shopping spree.

The M249 SAW squad automatic weapon and the M240B general purpose machine gun were all packed into the capsule space, leaving nothing behind.

New special operations firearms like the M27 IAR assault rifle, MK18, and MK17 boast top-notch performance and striking designs, making them rare and desirable items. Rosen didn't hesitate to acquire them all.

They didn't even spare any high-precision sniper rifles, taking away the M110 SASS precision marksman rifle, the M2010 ESR enhanced sniper rifle, and the M107 Barrett anti-materiel sniper rifle—they took them all, as the more valuable firearms they had, the better.

As for the ubiquitous M4A1 carbine, although he disliked it and his warehouse was already overflowing with them, every little bit counts.

In the future, when we go to some high-pressure countries, we can distribute some to their people, providing them with a better opportunity to realize their tradition of subjugation.

He also packed up all the remaining accessories and tactical equipment and took them with him; how could he let the goods he came to buy go to waste?

Trust that Commissioner Smith will silently write words of gratitude in his diary for everything he has done.

Taser stun guns, police restraint handcuffs, riot control pepper spray, a full set of breaching tools, as well as piles of spare magazines, slings, spare barrels, gun repair kits, high-definition optical sights, IR infrared laser pointers, tactical suppressors, special holsters, and gun cleaning kits—all were cleared out.

Of all the equipment, Rosen was most interested in the Taser and pepper spray. These non-lethal weapons were versatile and forgiving; in other people's hands, they were tools for maintaining stability, but in his hands, they could be used in all sorts of ways.

The Taser stun gun, in particular, has too many limitations in the original version, making it practically useless.

However, with just a few modifications—removing the current-limiting circuit, replacing it with a large-capacity energy storage capacitor, extending the pulse duration, and increasing the overall charge output—it can be transformed from a gentle tool for subduing enemies into a miraculous cure for urinary and bowel problems.

Subsequently, whether dealing with fierce police officers or giant wild crocodiles in the lake, Rosen was able to communicate with them happily.

He strolled out of the armory at a leisurely pace. The evening breeze carried the unique, hot smell of engine oil from the airport runway, but Rosen felt no ripples in his heart, and even felt a little disgusted.

To be honest, this sweep of the armory was barely passable; it was just a small-scale operation.

The truly valuable, top-tier hard currency isn't hidden in ordinary warehouses like this; the real treasures are all lurking deep within the core restricted area of ​​Andrew's base.

With a handful of odds and ends in his pocket, he strolled lazily toward the presidential hangar number 19, which was not far away.

This place is a top-priority area in the entire eastern airspace of the US military. In principle, the security level should be the highest, and ordinary soldiers are not even qualified to get within 100 meters.

The entire hangar is a giant, fully enclosed steel structure building with cold, thick, and airtight exterior walls.

The gate is equipped with a linked security lock, with each lock having a warning circuit wrapped around it, and the entire security system is tightly linked to the base's main alarm.

If any ordinary person dared to pry or violently break down the structure, the air raid sirens of the entire base would blast through the night sky in less than three seconds, and patrolling military police and special operations personnel would be able to surround the area instantly, so that not even a fly could easily escape.

This intimidating top-tier security system, which would be an insurmountable obstacle in the eyes of others, was completely useless against Rosen and posed no threat whatsoever.

He was too lazy to bother with the door, so he casually glanced at the more than ten-meter-high wall and instantly spotted a huge flaw.

A giant ventilation fan, taller than a person, was embedded in the wall. At night, when everyone was resting, the equipment had long since stopped running and gone into hibernation. The huge ventilation opening was wide open, no different from the private entrance passage specially left for him.