Farming Life Starting in Africa

If anyone dares to argue with him in the future, he'll just get on a helicopter, fire machine guns and rockets, and wipe them out with a single click, dealing with all sorts of dissent.

He was surprised to find a C130 Hercules transport plane in a medium-sized hangar on the outermost side.

The tail section of the aircraft had its cargo doors open, revealing an M8 AGS light airborne tank that was already secured. Three giant airdrop parachutes were attached to the side of the tank.

At the very back of the cabin, there is a Black Hawk helicopter with folding rotors. Although this helicopter doesn't have a great reputation, it's still very famous. The Americans even made a movie about it.

Rosen's mouth watered at the sight. He couldn't resist stepping into the cockpit of the C130 Hercules and discovered that although this thing was different from the planes he had learned to fly, perhaps he could fly it himself.

When Rosen saw this behemoth, he was already bloated with excitement. Not to mention that he could fly this thing, even if he took off near Washington, D.C., it was hard to predict whether a C-130 that could take off so casually in that area would be shot down!

Moreover, he had only learned to fly a plane for a few days, and it was a simple single-engine piston plane, yet he dared to fly such a big machine all by himself?

If he were to actually attempt this, he'd be headfirst onto the runway during takeoff.

But Rosen was already obsessed. The magic of being able to pilot such a large aircraft was something that the allure of beautiful women and money could not compare to. Besides, no one was reminding him to calm down.

All told, he had been driving long distances during the day, encountering an armed helicopter attack along the way, negotiating with American senators at night, and then frantically shopping at a military base late at night. Rosen hadn't slept for more than twenty hours.

After working non-stop at high intensity, fatigue completely overwhelmed my body, and my eyelids were so heavy that I could barely lift them.

As dawn broke, drowsiness completely overwhelmed all excitement. Too lazy to find barracks to rest, Rosen simply rolled over and crawled into the M8 AGS light airborne tank parked in the C130, closed the sealed hatch, and, taking advantage of the quiet, dark environment, fell into a deep sleep.

While I was soundly asleep, an incredibly bizarre and vividly real dream suddenly swept over me.

In his dream, he was still in China, lying on the operating table in Peking Union Medical College Hospital. The overhead lights were blinding, and a group of doctors in sterile surgical gowns were carefully performing craniotomy on him to precisely remove the giant tumor in his brain.

Rosen's consciousness seemed to leave his body, hovering in mid-air and looking down over the entire process. He clearly saw that the tumor removed by the doctor was shining with a dazzling golden light.

This isn't some kind of lesion or tumor; it's clearly the strange tree that took root in his soul and accompanied his rebirth!

He panicked instantly, screaming and yelling frantically, desperately trying to stop the doctor from making the incision, but no matter how much he roared, he couldn't make a sound, and he was so anxious that he scratched his head and cheeks.

Just then, the entire operating room suddenly shook violently, as if it had been hit by a super earthquake. The instruments and the table shook wildly, making it impossible to keep one's balance.

The violent jolting caused him to roll off the operating table, and it felt like something spilled out of his head.

The next second, the outline of the golden tree became incredibly clear, and a human face slowly emerged from the center of the trunk. The facial features and expression were a perfect replica of Rosen's appearance, and it was slowly grinning at him.

Rosen was terrified. Just as he was about to desperately return to his physical body, the shaking in front of him suddenly intensified. In the midst of the dizziness, a deafening roar suddenly pierced his eardrums.

He woke up instantly, surrounded by complete darkness, completely pulled out of the bizarre dream.

Rosen then vaguely remembered that he was still lying inside an M8 airborne tank.

In order to balance protection, stealth and airtightness, the hatches of main battle tanks are fully sealed, and the inside is completely opaque, so there is no natural light at all.

But what's causing this loud roar and violent shaking?

Just as Rosen was about to reach into the capsule to retrieve a flashlight, the tightly closed tank hatch above his head was suddenly flung open, and blinding white light poured in, illuminating the entire dimly lit compartment.

He subconsciously tensed up, his hand stealthily reaching for the holster at his waist. Just as Rosen was momentarily stunned, considering whether to pull out his gun and fire a "reward for opening the holster" at the guy who was opening it.

Before he could make a move, a figure nimbly flipped and jumped in.

The man was dressed casually in a gray T-shirt and wore a red baseball cap. He looked like a middle-aged man with a quirky and unconventional personality, exuding an air of eccentric madness.

The first thing the man saw when he landed was Rosen lying flat on the ground. He was stunned by Rosen's neat military uniform and handsome white appearance. He was clearly taken aback by the sudden appearance of the stranger.

He immediately turned and shouted towards the outside of the tank, his tone full of mockery and surprise: "Hannibal! Haha, look what I found! A soldier hiding inside a tank, slacking off? The discipline of the US military is ridiculous these days!"

After shouting this, he didn't have time to pay attention to Rosen at all. He quickly climbed to the tank commander's position and raised his hand to start the internal power.

With a soft hum, the tank's interior lighting system instantly turned on, transforming the dim and oppressive cabin into a bright and clear space.

"What? Murdoch, are you hallucinating again after stopping your medication?"

A deep, aged voice came from outside the tank. As soon as the voice finished, an old man with white hair bent down and jumped into the tank. He landed hastily and almost stepped directly on Rosen, making the scene so embarrassing that he scratched his toes.

The old man was stunned for a moment when he saw Rosen clearly, then quickly composed himself and said urgently and sincerely, "Hey, brother, I don't have time to waste with you, we're in big trouble! This C130 is about to be destroyed, we have to use this tank to airdrop and have a chance to survive."

The moment Rosen heard this, his mind went blank. A surge of anger rushed to his head, and he instinctively cursed, "Holy crap? My plane's going to get blown up? Which bastard has the nerve to do this?!"

This is his private jet, which he stayed up all night to find the goods and pre-ordered! Anyone who dares to hit my plane, I'll send you a ton of TNT and let you taste whether my passionate flames are enough to set you on fire.

Before he could finish venting his anger, a burly, dark figure was roughly thrown into the tank compartment.

Boom-!

A dull thud shook the cabin, and the burly black man slammed into the corner next to the weapons control panel. The impact of the fall looked excruciatingly painful, and Rosen felt a chill for him even through the air.

The last handsome white man followed closely behind and jumped into the tank. The tank door was quickly locked the next second.

Rosen's brain completely shut down. He hadn't recovered from the bizarre and terrifying dream of brain surgery yet, and a massive amount of outrageous information was flooding into his mind, which he couldn't process in a short time.