Farming Life Starting in Africa

Rosen didn't give him a chance.

As he rushed out of the alley, his finger was already on the trigger of his AK74.

"Da da—da da—da da—da da—"

Every short burst he fired while running hit a defender squarely in the chest.

Rosen didn't pursue anything fancy like "headshots." Firstly, it wasn't necessary, and secondly, headshots while running are inherently prone to inaccuracy. Shooting the chest was a better option; the target was larger, the hit rate was higher, and the cavity effect created by a 5.45mm bullet inside the body was enough to instantly incapacitate anyone.

The four people collapsed in less than two seconds. Two of them stopped moving immediately, while the other two twitched a few times on the ground before quickly going into shock.

The remaining two guards stood right at the door of the men's cage, blocking Rosen from the iron bars holding the men.

Rosen didn't shoot them directly, not because he was afraid of being inaccurate, but because he was afraid that the bullets would penetrate the two men's bodies and also send the prisoners in the cages away. Those hostages weren't wearing bulletproof vests.

He tossed the rifle behind him and continued charging forward.

When the distance closed to five meters, a military knife suddenly appeared in his left hand as if by magic, and with a flick of his arm, the knife slipped from his grasp.

brush--

A cold light flashed through the air and precisely pierced the neck of the guard on the left.

The blade pierced through the carotid artery. The man didn't even have time to scream. He clutched his neck tightly with both hands, blood gushing from between his fingers, and he slumped to his knees.

Finally, the guard took the gun off his back and held it steady, but Rosen had already rushed in front of him.

An M1911 appeared out of thin air in his right hand.

"Slap! Slap!"

Two gunshots rang out almost simultaneously, leaving two holes in the man's head. Blood and brain matter from the back of his head splattered onto the bars of the iron cage behind him, causing the men inside to scream in terror.

Rosen stood in the chamber and slowly scanned his surroundings.

Apart from the hostages in the cages, there were no more Iron Army soldiers standing.

He tucked the M1911 back into his belt and switched back to the communications channel: "I've found the hostage. How's it going over there? Are you holding on?"

Leng Feng's voice came through the earpiece, panting as if he'd just finished a marathon: "Damn it! They're rushing out like madmen! Miao Feng, hurry up with the bomb support, we can't hold on! Holy crap—rocket launchers!"

Boom—another loud bang came through the headphones.

Rosen frowned and quickened his pace: "Hold on. You all retreat in five minutes and wait for me on the hillside behind. Don't linger; your lives are more important."

"receive!"

Rosen cut off the communication, wasting no more time. He walked to the cages holding the men and shouted, "Old Ma? Are you there? Say something!"

A commotion erupted inside the cage. A hand reached out from the crowd, waving weakly, followed by a feeble but still relatively calm voice: "Hey...here. You are...you are Xiao Luo?"

Rosen ignored him.

He took two steps back, raised his AK74, and aimed at the iron lock on the cage door.

"Everyone back up! Everyone back up! Get to the very back of the cage! Quickly!"

The dozen or so people in the cage huddled together in the farthest corner, and the scene was so chaotic that it looked like a zombie movie was being filmed.

Rosen pulled the trigger.

"Da da da—"

The bullet struck the lock, sparks flying, and shrapnel and lock fragments scattering in all directions. Rosen felt a jolt in his arm and stomach, as if someone had hit him with a rock, and several pieces of shrapnel were embedded in his body.

If he hadn't been wearing a bulletproof vest, this would probably have taken him down.

"The plots in the movies are really misleading," he cursed inwardly. "Those guys who can shoot locks at close range and still not hit themselves are all lucky ones, they're all cheating."

The lock was broken, and the chain clattered to the ground. As Rosen pulled open the cage door, a chorus of English, laced with various accents, came from the women's cage on the right: "Please! Save us! Please!"

Rosen nonchalantly ran over, shattered the lock with a single shot, and pulled open the cage door: "Alright, everyone—go back the way I came in! Don't talk, don't run around, and stay away from any corpses or anything else you see on the way. Don't touch them! There are traps I've set inside; touch them and they'll explode!"

Just then, a commotion arose from the entrance of another alleyway in the chamber.

Footsteps and shouts mingled together, growing ever closer. The gunfire here had clearly attracted attention outside.

Rosen pulled two grenades from his waistband, pulled the pins, and threw them into the alley.

"Boom—Boom—"

Two violent explosions rang out in the alleyway, spewing out rubble and dust from the entrance.

"Run!" Rosen shouted, "Run if you don't want to die! You'll be safe once you're out of the cave! Those who are slow can go play with God!"

The crowd erupted in chaos. Several strong white men led the charge towards the alleyway Rosen had just entered, and the others spontaneously followed. The scene was initially very chaotic, but eventually everyone was running.

Rosen didn't run after them. He stood at the back to cover the rear.

The sound came from the alleyway again—someone was shouting, "Charge! They're getting away!" The footsteps grew closer, at least a dozen people.

Rosen then pulled out two more grenades without hesitation, pulled the pins, and threw them in.

"Boom—Boom—"

Another explosion followed, mixed with a few screams.

He glanced behind him; all the hostages had vanished into the alleyway. Now he stood alone in the chamber.

Rosen quickly crouched down and pulled a transparent fishing line from the capsule, almost invisible in the light. He tied one end of the line to the rock wall at the entrance of the alley, and the other end looped around a corpse and hung it on the trigger pin of a Claymore mine.

The Claymore mine was hidden behind the corpse, completely invisible from the outside. The fishing line was pulled taut, just reaching the person's calf.

If anyone runs in and trips the fishing line, there will be no one left alive in this chamber.

Rosen clapped his hands. "Here's a tripwire grenade for you. Remember to leave a good review!"

He turned and quickly chased after the hostages, deciding to lead the way. Letting those emotionally unstable people go first would easily lead to trouble.

Rosen quickened his pace and soon spotted figures ahead. The hostages weren't running fast; many had been imprisoned for a long time, constantly hungry, and barefoot, running barefoot through the rubble-strewn mine tunnels, each step feeling like torture. Several had their soles worn raw, leaving trails of bloody footprints on the ground.

As Rosen ran, he released a huge roll of steel sheet from his capsule. The roll was about one and a half meters wide, more than two meters high, and weighed nearly ten tons. He placed the roll across the middle of the road, blocking only a narrow gap on the side.