Farming Life Starting in Africa

The hostage in the lead had already run more than 500 meters when Rosen caught up from behind, overtook everyone, and took the lead.

As Rosen passed by Ma Xiao, Ma Xiao grabbed his sleeve.

"You...you're Xiao Luo, right?" Ma Xiao's voice trembled, whether from excitement or fear, it was hard to tell.

Rosen shook off his grip, his tone utterly exasperated: "Nonsense! Who else but me could save you? What do you think this place is? A tourist attraction? Run! There's someone waiting for you once you're out of the cave!"

Ma Xiao was choked and speechless, and could only follow behind, panting as he ran.

Along the way, Rosen took a break to count the heads.

Including Ma Xiao, there are a total of twenty-one hostages: eight women and thirteen men.

"There are too many people," Rosen thought to himself. "My two cars can't carry them all. But luckily, the cars have enough power. If all else fails, I'll just do what the Indians do and use them as trailers on the vehicles. It's better than them walking. I'm sure no one will complain."

He opened the communicator: "Old Zhou, how's the situation outside?"

Zhou Weijie's voice sounded much more relaxed: "They've retreated back into the cave. There aren't many people left outside. How's it going on your end?"

As Rosen ran, he said, "The hostages are running out. Damn, there are twenty-one of them! Too many!"

Zhou Weijie's mocking voice came over: "Hehe, this is a good thing. These people want to go home, so they should at least offer some money. Paying some travel expenses is still a source of income, isn't it? Miao Feng, don't blow up the car—Leng Feng, go find a usable vehicle. There are too many hostages; our own cars can't hold them all."

"Received!" Leng Feng's voice came through the earpiece, clearly accompanied by panting.

Rosen was running in the lead, and when they were not far from the Y-shaped intersection, a loud explosion suddenly came from ahead.

Judging from the sound, it must have been one of the booby traps he set that exploded. Someone must have taken a shortcut through another exit.

Rosen abruptly stopped, raised his rifle and his right hand, gesturing for silence to the hostages behind him.

The people behind him were as docile as kindergarten children, not a single one making a sound. Only heavy breathing echoed between the rock walls in the alleyway.

Rosen crept forward stealthily. When he reached the corner of the Y-junction, he peeked out. Six more people lay on the ground, joining the ranks of the corpses.

Only two of them were still struggling and panting; the remaining four were motionless. There were fresh bullet holes and bloodstains on the rock face, rubble was scattered everywhere, and the air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood.

Looking around, there was no one else there.

Rosen walked out with a rifle in his hand, pointing the muzzle at the two people still struggling on the ground.

He asked in the local language, "Where is Hassud?"

The first man shook his head, his mouth opening and closing as if to say, "I don't know" or "I won't tell you." But he couldn't finish his sentence because Rosen pulled the trigger.

"Da da—"

The bullet pierced the man's head, and the sound ceased abruptly.

Rosen turned his gun on the second man, his face expressionless, and repeated his earlier question, "Where is Hassud?"

The last survivor's face was filled with terror, his eyes bulging as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. He hadn't expected this yellow-skinned man to be so swift, killing him without a word.

Overwhelmed by intense fear, he disregarded his gunshot wound and stammered in the local language, "He...he was on the way we came...always on the right-hand side...two intersections...the innermost room...please don't..."

Rosen glanced at him. The wound was on his shoulder, a cut about half the size of a palm, revealing the white bone underneath.

Without any sympathy, without any hesitation, he ended his suffering with a single shot.

All members of the Iron Army have blood on their hands. Many of them were raised as child scouts, ruthless killers, with the number of lives on their hands exceeding their own age. To show pity to such people is to be cruel to oneself.

Rosen returned to the alleyway entrance and waved to the hostages behind him: "The situation up ahead is resolved, let's get going. Don't step on the corpses, go around them."

He led the group past the storeroom to the deep pit where a ladder had to be climbed.

Rosen pointed to the dark cave above the dilapidated ladder. "Come up one by one. Three people at a time, no pushing or shoving, line up properly. Once you're out, run straight down the hillside, there's a car to pick you up."

He pulled out a small flashlight and handed it to Ma Xiao in the crowd, saying, "You go first."

After saying that, he prepared to turn around and walk back.

Ma Xiao grabbed his arm: "Where...where are you going? Aren't you coming with us?"

Rosen pulled the M1911 pistol from its thigh holster and handed it to him: "It'll take you time to climb up. I'll cover you. You know how to use it, right?"

Ma Xiao took the gun, weighed it in his hand, and nodded: "Yes."

"Alright," Rosen patted him on the shoulder, "Kill the ones who don't obey. Just don't hurt yourself."

"Be careful," Ma said with a smile.

Rosen smiled, turned around and ran back.

He would never admit that he was looking for Hassud to make a fortune; there was a bounty on Hassud's head.

Following the alleyway on the right, Rosen ran for about four hundred meters before encountering the first fork in the road. Without a word, he released a huge roll of steel sheet from his capsule space, directly blocking the opening on the left.

Blocking the door is an art; its art is such that it can make both those who want to get through and those who want to get through feel hopeless.

When he reached the second intersection, he found a sturdy iron gate on the left that opened outwards, which should be an important passage. However, he didn't have time to study it. He simply blocked the gate with a roll of steel sheet and continued running forward.

As he approached the innermost room, he suddenly heard curses coming from afar. The voices weren't loud, but they carried far in the quiet alleyway.

"Sai! The hostages must be brought back!" the voice roared, clearly enraged. "Cut off their legs! Take your men and go after them! I don't want to hear reasons! Go out the back door! Now!"

Rosen quickened his pace.

As he ran, he pulled a PKM general-purpose machine gun from the capsule space, holding it steadily with both hands.

Those inside the room also heard footsteps outside. The clicking sound of bullets being chambered came from inside.

"Who? Who's outside?"

Rosen didn't bother to answer.

He stood outside the door, aimed at the wooden door, and pulled the trigger.

The PKM's rate of fire was no joke. 7.62mm bullets rained down like a storm, riddling the wooden door with holes and sending splinters flying. Through the holes, one could see people inside the room lying on the ground, riddled with bullets.