Farming Life Starting in Africa

In fact, the top political arena in this land has long been quietly infiltrated by people of Japanese descent, who have begun to control the lifeline of many departments at each level.

The ministers of the Ministry of Labor, the Ministry of Agriculture, and the Ministry of Transportation are all Japanese-American politicians.

The governors of each state wield real power, and the senators and representatives who hold significant power over legislation, finance, and personnel matters are numerous, with Japanese Americans being particularly prominent.

It's important to understand that Brazilian governors wield significant power over a state's military, political, financial, and autonomous affairs, with authority far exceeding that of provincial governors and party secretaries in China.

Even in neighboring Peru, the head of state and president is of Japanese descent.

The ambitions that the war criminals who invaded China could not achieve in their entire lives have been indirectly realized by their descendants through the slow, insidious process of infiltration.

Rosen looked down at the kneeling Japanese employees in front of him, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to squeeze the most benefits out of them.

He's always been the one taking advantage of others; this is the first time since he left Africa that someone has been targeting him and trying to take advantage of him.

"No need for that compensation thing," Rosen said calmly. "If it's just a few gold coins, then forget it. I don't need any more gold coins."

Gold coins are treasures to ordinary assassins, but for Rosen now, they are just currency that he can easily "produce himself," and they don't tempt him at all.

Upon hearing this, the four kneeling people froze on the spot, their faces drained of color, and the atmosphere became awkward and deathly silent.

They originally thought they could settle the matter quickly with gold coins and avoid huge cash compensation, but they never expected that this big shot would not care about the gold coins of the mainland hotel at all.

Just as everyone was in a state of panic, Hidetoshi Tojo lowered his head slightly, leaned close to the bald man next to him, and whispered a few words quickly in a low voice.

But as soon as he finished speaking, the bald man's pupils contracted, and he immediately shook his head vigorously, his expression resolute, rejecting his idea on the spot. The two instantly fell into a low-pitched tug-of-war again.

The two exchanged a few quick words with their heads down, their voices extremely low, like mice secretly grinding their teeth in a corner, neither daring to breathe loudly.

A few seconds later, the bald man completely deflated, his head drooping heavily. He dared not utter another word, and respectfully uttered, "Hi!"

Upon seeing this, Hidetoshi Tojo immediately straightened his posture, slightly shifting his knees on the sand and gravel, keeping a very low profile, afraid of displeasing the assassin in front of him.

"Sir, his name is Suzuki Mori, and he is our exclusive tailor at the Rio Continental Hotel."

He spoke cautiously, as if he were trying his best to sell a treasured possession.

"He can tailor a suit for you free of charge as a token of our apology."

Upon hearing this, Rosen raised an eyebrow slightly, genuinely a bit taken aback. "A suit? What suit?"

These few words, when they reached Hidetoshi Tojo's ears, made his heart skip a beat, and instantly filled him with doubts and questions.

Something's not right, something's really not right.

Any assassin who operates in the mainland hotel industry knows the value of a personal tailor.

It could even be said that within the assassin community, tailors are undoubtedly the most sought-after figures, bar none.

After all, what comes out of the tailor's hands is a genuine flexible bulletproof suit.

Lightweight and form-fitting with a clean design, it looks presentable and expensive when worn out, yet it can withstand the bombardment of all handgun bullets, making it equivalent to having an extra life when carrying out a mission.

This kind of treasure is a life-saving artifact that countless mid-level assassins would fight tooth and nail to obtain.

Within the hotel system, only top-tier assassins have exclusive customized services; ordinary employees and low-level assassins can't even get close to the queue.

Hidetoshi Tojo secretly glanced at Rosen twice, his heart pounding: This guy has hotel gold coins in his hand, and his aura is full of killing intent. He definitely looks like an insider. How come he doesn't even know the use of a tailor?

He even secretly suspected that the other party was not a legitimate mainland hotel assassin at all, but just a guy pretending to be a big shot with gold coins.

"Sir, you may not know this, but it's a unique perk offered only by our hotel."

Hidetoshi Tojo was incredibly patient, patiently explaining the inner circle of service at the hotel to Rosen Hotel, his attitude extremely humble.

"The tailor-made suits have a built-in flexible bulletproof effect. Unless you're hit directly in the face by a large-caliber gun, they can basically protect your vital organs and save your life. I happen to have one last custom-made suit available, a privilege that my uncle specially reserved for me."

He then proceeded to explain the entire service system of the mainland hotels in great detail.

After tailors, the second most valuable profession is that of sommeliers. They specialize in customizing, modifying, and equipping high-end weaponry, creating bespoke weapons for top assassins.

In addition, the hotel has a dedicated medical team and a professional on-site cleanup team to handle all the aftermath and erase all traces of the crime. However, each of these high-end services requires spending gold coins to unlock.

After speaking, Hidetoshi Tojo felt a little more confident, convinced that his sincerity was enough and that the other party would definitely agree to let them go.

Rosen simply twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a casual and nonchalant smile, his tone full of disdain: "I don't need this."

"Is there anything else that can sway me? If not, then just honestly pay up."

A bulletproof suit?

Rosen just wanted to laugh. This kind of treasure that others would fight tooth and nail to get was already commonplace in his hands, and it wasn't a rare resource at all.

Hidetoshi Tojo was completely stunned, his scalp tingled, and he was starting to lose his composure.

He doesn't even want a bulletproof suit? What exactly does this big shot want?

His face was pale, and his voice was pleading as he said with a pained expression, "Sir, we really can't come up with a million US dollars. That amount is just too much..."

Rosen was too lazy to waste words with them. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled out a gleaming Harpoon tactical knife.

With a whoosh.

He casually tossed the incredibly sharp tactical knife onto the sand in front of the group; the cold gleam of the blade looked dangerous in the twilight.

"No money?" Rosen glanced at the group indifferently. "Then leave something on your person as interest, and you can pay the rest of the debt later."

The four people on the ground swallowed hard, the sound of their throats bobbing clearly in the quiet environment.

They had been in Brazil for several years, using the name of the Continental Hotel and relying on the connections of Hidetoshi Tojo to form a secret society. They usually preyed on seemingly gentle and easy-to-bully employees and passersby, and were used to being arrogant and domineering.