Farming Life Starting in Africa

"I don't know, I'll have to wait until my friend arrives in a couple of days to find out."

"So, with your vehicle modified like this," Leng Feng gestured with his chin towards the anti-aircraft gun, "are you going somewhere to fight?"

Rosen bent over, tightening the screws securing the base. "I need to go redeem my two unfortunate friends. These things are just in case; we might not even need them."

"Okay," Leng Feng said decisively. "Then I'll go with you to take a look."

Rosen looked up at him, giving him a strange look. "Aren't you going to cause trouble for Dane Corporation?"

He wasn't worried about Leng Feng. This guy had a protagonist's aura; so many guns were firing at him, and tanks were chasing and bombarding him, yet he still didn't die. Did he, a super low-budget version of Captain America, need to worry about the Chinese Captain?

Leng Feng scratched the back of his head, feeling rather embarrassed, and smeared black engine oil all over his neck. "Let's talk about it when your friend arrives. I can't find any information on my own."

He paused for a moment, then asked, "Do you... have any other weapons? I heard from your uncle that some can be found here."

"Yes, there are." Rosen stood up, dusted off his knees, and tossed the wrench into the toolbox. "Most of them are AK series, cheap and easy to use. But we recently got a batch of American-made equipment, rare stuff, you know. Want to take a look? They're not expensive."

"Huh?" Leng Feng was taken aback. "You're really in the arms business?"

"Just doing this as a side job, my main business is still collecting scrap. Want some?"

Leng Feng nodded. "What are the prices?"

"We'll discuss the price after you see the goods. I definitely won't rip you off, don't worry."

After the anti-aircraft gun was secured, Rosen led Leng Feng through the junkyard toward the armory. Guns hung on the walls, ammunition boxes were stacked on the floor, and the air was filled with the smell of gun oil mixed with a faint, cool metallic fragrance.

There weren't actually that many types of guns. The AK series were originally bought from Zhou Weijie, and later we mass-produced a batch ourselves, storing them in the basement warehouse.

The three rifles that were recently added to the warehouse were placed in the most conspicuous position: an M4A1 carbine, an M40A3 sniper rifle, and the most eye-catching one, a Barrett. Next to them were various accessories: scopes, grips, suppressors, tactical lights, and a whole bunch of random parts in one big box.

These are all things that Swagger left behind. As for his new creations, Rosen hasn't brought them out yet; he'll have to wait until he finds a big buyer.

Leng Feng's eyes lit up as soon as he entered. He rushed over, grabbed the M40A3, expertly cocked it, and examined the magazine. There were some signs of wear, but it was very well maintained. He looked up at Rosen, "Where did you get all of these?"

"A friend supplied the goods. He only recently got them, and there aren't many."

Leng Feng remained silent, glanced at the serial number on the gun, then picked up the M4A1 and sniffed it. The gun oil smell was strong; it had just been serviced recently, and the smell alone suggested the previous owner was a connoisseur. He narrowed his eyes. "From a US military base?"

Rosen smiled but didn't reply.

"I want this sniper rifle and that carbine. How much do they cost in total?"

"Do you want any attachments? Of all these guns, only the M40A3 comes with a 3x to 12x zoom scope."

Leng Feng shook his head. "Let's calculate the price of the bare gun first."

"I'll give you an M4A1 for $800, plus 200 rounds of ammunition. The M40A3 is a bit more expensive," Rosen paused, looking him up and down, "Can you be a marksman?"

Leng Feng nodded. Those who came from the Wolf Warriors are all excellent marksmen. They can hit the target at 300 meters with iron sights. The M4A1 is reasonably priced at $800, and it even comes with free ammo. Considering all that, he thought he might consider getting some accessories.

"M40A3, eight thousand dollars, and fifty bullets for you."

Leng Feng pondered for a moment. The price of this secondhand handgun wasn't cheap, but it wasn't expensive either. It was mainly because it was well-maintained and worth the price. He had seen too many secondhand handguns that had been ruined beyond recognition, with the rifling worn down and still being sold.

"What are the prices of these accessories?"

"I'll give you two thousand four for the whole package. If you want them all, it'll be eleven thousand dollars in total." Rosen didn't actually know how much these accessories would cost in American gun stores; this price was just an estimate he made.

Upon hearing the amount, Leng Feng's face showed a hint of frustration. It wasn't that he was short of money; he had just received the transfer of over 180,000 RMB from Qian Bida, and it hadn't even warmed his pocket yet.

He had heard from his comrade that bringing Moutai to sell here could make a lot of money, and his comrade had even used his connections to help him transport the liquor out. But in the end, not only did he not make a single penny, he also had to spend nearly 100,000 yuan to buy weapons.

But there's nothing we can do about it. We can't exactly send him to face elite mercenaries with a fire poker, can we? That wouldn't be revenge; that would be suicide.

"Alright then." He sighed. "Do you have a place around here to test your guns?"

"Come with me." Rosen put the gun into his holster, picked up two boxes of ammunition from the side, and the two got into his heavily modified BJ40 and drove east.

Rosen found a deserted wasteland and set up several targets with spring bases. The targets kept moving when the wind blew, which was a great test of long-range shooting skills.

The two stood a hundred meters away. Leng Feng squatted down, took the M4A1 carbine out of its holster, and carefully inspected it—pulling the bolt, checking the rifling, testing the trigger travel, his movements were neither hurried nor slow, each one precise.

"Very good." He stood up, patted the gun, and said, "These guns are in very good condition."

Rosen shrugged. "That's all thanks to Swagger. That guy treats his gun like his own son."

Leng Feng picked up the M4A1, barely aimed, and fired. Bang! Bang! Bang—the sound of bullets hitting the target echoed from afar, carrying a metallic resonance.

He put down the gun and nodded with satisfaction. The gun had a very stable trajectory and quite good accuracy. He rummaged through the accessory box and saw an M203 single-shot under-barrel grenade launcher. He picked it up and tested it under the barrel; the locking mechanism fit perfectly.

Do you have this ammunition?

"I can give you ten," Rosen said. "But let me tell you, I modified these grenades myself, increased the explosive charge, and made them more powerful."

He bent down and rummaged through the ammunition box, taking out a few grenades and handing them over.

Leng Feng took it, not taking it too seriously. He installed the quadrant rangefinder and vertical sight, looked up at the distance, and found a large rock about two hundred meters away. After a quick aim, he pulled the trigger.

"Thump—"

A grenade seemed to fly out slowly, taking nearly three seconds to land, less than ten meters to the left of the rock. Immediately afterward, with a loud "boom," shrapnel exploded, dust flew around the large rock, and a crater was blasted into the rock, sending debris flying high into the air.