Farming Life Starting in Africa

High in the sky, a tank with three giant parachutes swayed and slowly descended, occasionally firing its cannons. Using the recoil, it drifted sideways, gradually approaching the lake and getting closer and closer to the crowd on the shore.

This outrageous art style completely overturned everyone's understanding.

The older anglers were terrified. They quickly packed up their fishing rods, fish baskets, and small stools, and ran away as fast as they could, wanting nothing more than to get away from this place of trouble.

On the contrary, a few young men nearby, not wanting to miss out on the excitement, took out their phones and held them up to film, recording the entire epic scene and posting it online, waiting for it to go viral.

One cannon shot after another rang out, and the tank, using the recoil, kept deviating from its course, finally managing to float above the lake at a height of less than 100 meters above the ground.

Just as Parker was about to fire the final shot to cushion the blow, Murdoch suddenly raised his hand to stop him, his expression serious: "Wait! Don't fire yet!"

Everyone immediately turned to look at him.

"Our biggest problem right now is that we don't have the equipment to break the surface tension of the water!" Murdoch explained quickly. "We have to use the recoil of the cannons to propel the tank upwards at the last second before it enters the water, to dissipate most of the impact. Otherwise, slamming into the water is no different from hitting concrete; it will still cripple us!"

Everyone instantly understood and quickly found fixed positions to stabilize themselves and prepare to withstand the impact. All eyes were focused on Pike, waiting for this crucial final shot.

Rosen, aiming for stability, took advantage of the moment when everyone was focused on preparing to enter the water. He secretly pulled out a 40-centimeter-thick, moderately soft sponge from his storage space and placed it under his buttocks.

Even if mystical methods for saving your life are reliable, they are not as good as taking proper precautions yourself. There's no need to needlessly injure yourself.

"Fire!"

Murdoch gave the order!

A deafening roar!

The tank jerked upwards, instantly dissipating most of the enormous impact of the fall, and the vehicle smoothly descended, followed by a slight tremor.

The moment the vibration subsided, Rosen swiftly removed the sponge from under his buttocks and quietly retracted it into the capsule space, all in a smooth and seamless manner, without anyone noticing anything amiss.

The other four breathed a sigh of relief, their faces filled with the joy of surviving a disaster. They had finally won their gamble by being cushioned by falling into the water.

Parker, panting, chuckled and joked, "Should we run away now, or wait until the tank sinks to the bottom of the lake before we try to fish our way out?"

Hannibal ignored the joke and decisively pushed open the hatch.

Taking advantage of the brief respite before the tank completely sank and while the hatches still allowed for ventilation, the five men crawled out one by one, plunging into the lake in a disheveled state and struggling to swim toward the shore.

Modern tanks are not designed to be underwater-crossing, and no normal person would be so bored as to add underwater-crossing capabilities to a tank; it's completely impractical.

As for amphibious crossing? This M8 AGS wasn't equipped with any amphibious flotation kit, and there were no plans to airdrop it into the water recently. Today it was purely out of necessity and performed exceptionally well.

The group scrambled ashore in a disheveled state, soaking wet and covered in water stains, looking extremely wretched.

They grabbed the passerby who had just taken the photo, quickly asked for directions, and without any delay, immediately headed towards the Canadian border.

Their final destination was Huxley Bank in Montreal, Canada.

During their journey, Pike struck up a casual conversation with Rosen: "Now that you've landed safely and the crisis is over, why don't you go back to your base? Following us around on adventures is just asking for trouble."

Rosen raised his hand and touched his face, looking helpless and speaking with a hint of resignation: "Dude, I shot down those two Reaper drones myself. Do you think the people in command center didn't capture my face on camera?"

"But you were just reacting passively and defending yourself, not acting proactively..." Parker defended him.

Rosen shrugged and interrupted him with a laugh, "Do you think the military will reason with me? If it really comes down to compensation, I'll probably have to pay for those two things. Going back would be like walking into a trap."

Hannibal, who had been listening the whole time, sighed helplessly and said, "Fine, if you come with us, you'll most likely be put on the wanted list too."

"Whatever." Rosen laughed with unusual ease. "Military life is too boring; I'm tired of training and standing guard every day. Traveling around with you guys is like a paid trip, experiencing a different kind of life. By the way, what are we going to do next?"

Faced with this question, the other four people remained silent and no one responded.

A long silence followed before Hannibal finally spoke, his gaze earnest as he looked at Rosen: "Our team happens to be short a heavy firepower assault soldier. How are your driving skills? Can you handle special operations driving and emergency maneuvers?"

The words had barely left his mouth when Bosco, standing nearby, instantly lost his composure and shouted, "Hannibal! I just don't want to kill anymore! My combat and driving skills haven't declined at all; I'm still the best in the team!"

Murdoch immediately added insult to injury, his tone full of mockery: "So if someone points a gun at your head, you wouldn't shoot back?"

One sentence completely baffled Bosco.

During his imprisonment, he was torn between his faith and his will to survive, remaining silent with his head down and a bewildered expression. Everyone understood his situation, and no one continued to tease or press him for answers.

At this point, Rosen took over the conversation and confidently replied to Hannibal: "I have quite a talent for driving cars. All kinds of special driving and extreme handling are minor issues for me. I can handle them perfectly well."

Hannibal looked at his calm and confident demeanor and nodded in satisfaction, giving him a heads-up beforehand: "Okay, then you can join us temporarily. But I must make it clear that there will be no reward for following us, and you will be wanted and hunted at any time. Danger is everywhere."

Rosen burst out laughing after hearing this. "Haha, so what if I'm wanted? I don't care at all. As for money, to be honest, most of you probably don't have as much money as I do. Being a soldier is just a hobby for me."

Looking at the handsome face before him, which was no less striking than his own, and listening to this ultimate Versailles-esque speech, Parker couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "Another rich tycoon with nothing better to do. This is outrageous."

The life-or-death crisis was over, and the team relaxed for once. No one was on edge anymore, and the only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the wind and the gentle footsteps of the group.

Looking at Murdoch beside him, who was excited and making a lot of noise, Rosen suddenly had a super tempting idea.

He knew all too well how valuable this guy was; he was a top-tier genius in the aviation world, with talent so outrageous it was unreasonable.