Farming Life Starting in Africa

"Da da da da da da da—"

Rosen kept firing until the magazine was empty and the gun went into overdrive, the "click" sound of the bolt being pulled back was the last sound before he stopped.

He kicked open the dilapidated wooden door—the door flew straight in and crashed to the ground with a loud bang.

There were three corpses lying in the room.

One corpse had its head smashed open, its face unrecognizable. The one closest to it was in no better shape, torn into several pieces by PKM bullets and scattered in different corners of the room, like a jigsaw puzzle.

On the innermost, relatively intact corpse, Rosen noticed a distinctive feature: a tuft of white hair in the middle of the man's beard, and a black headscarf wrapped crookedly around his head.

"Found you." Rosen muttered as he pulled out a photo from his phone and compared it to the one in Zhou Weijie's photo, which was indeed Hassud.

Then he began searching the room.

The room wasn't big, only about ten square meters. Besides some obviously worthless odds and ends, there were only two large locked boxes in the corner.

One is a wooden box that is more than a meter wide and half a meter high, and the other is a metal box that is half a meter square.

He took out his AK-74, smashed the lock, and opened it to find a square metal box filled with gold ingots, gleaming brightly. Inside the wooden box were a large pile of US dollar bills and documents.

Rosen grinned as he put the two boxes directly into his capsule space. Then, carrying the valuable, tattered body, he threw it against the equally dilapidated wooden door, dragged the door along, and ran away.

On his way back, as he passed the intersection with the iron gate, he heard loud banging sounds coming from inside, as if the gate was being kicked.

His coil of steel sheet weighed nearly ten tons, making it a semi-permanent blockage in this alley. Unless Dr. Bruce Banner were to transform here, no one could move it.

Just as Rosen was about to catch up with the hostages, those people had only been out of the cave for a short time.

They were all barefoot, and every step they took on the rocky hillside felt like dancing on a knife's edge. Some of their soles were already bloody and mangled, and it looked incredibly painful.

Rosen tied the body to the rope he had lowered earlier, climbed up first, and then hoisted the body up with him. Even with Rosen's strong physique, he was panting heavily from exhaustion.

He walked over to the bodies of the two sentries at the cave entrance and took off their shoes.

The shoes were still warm and had an indescribable smell.

He suppressed his nausea, dragged the corpse and the shoes up the hillside, and threw the shoes to Ma Xiao: "Try them on, see which ones you can wear."

In the tense atmosphere, Ma Xiao didn't notice the corpse behind Rosen. He took the two pairs of shoes with a strong odor, his expression like he was receiving a biological bomb. He suppressed his nausea, squeezed his feet into the shoes, and then shook his head: "No, they're too small."

After saying that, he tossed the shoes to two strong white men next to him. The two men didn't seem to mind; they snatched them and put them on. Surprisingly, despite their height and build, their feet were quite small.

One of them even brought his nose to the shoe opening and smelled it, his face looking like he'd just drunk vinegar, but he still put it on.

At that moment, car headlights appeared on the distant hillside.

The lights drew four white beams in the darkness, leaping across the uneven sand, getting closer and closer.

Rosen pressed the communication button on his helmet: "Is that you guys here?"

"Yes, where are the hostages?" Zhou Weijie's voice came through.

"On the slope, everyone is barefoot, so going downhill is quite troublesome."

"Tell them to hurry up! There might be pursuers behind us, don't dawdle!"

Rosen shouted to the hostages in front of him, "Get down now! The pursuers are coming soon! If you want to live, hurry up! Don't wait until they catch up before you run, or you won't be able to escape!"

These words are more useful than anything else.

Suddenly, those who were cautiously moving forward sped up as if they had been electrocuted, ignoring how rough the pebbles were under their feet, and scrambled down the hillside.

Rosen, while pulling the body on the rope, also helped Ma Xiao, who had been locked up for several days and was clearly exhausted. The group quickly descended the slope. Four vehicles were parked nearby, their headlights illuminating the surroundings.

Zhou Weijie jumped off a seized pickup truck, looked up at the hole not far above his head, and then at the hostages who had come down with him. The area was mostly white, with only a couple of Asians present, all covered in dirt and looking like they had just crawled out of a coal mine.

"How's it going?" he asked Rosen.

"I've blocked it up inside; they can't get out." Rosen dusted himself off. "Let's see how long it takes for you guys to finish cleaning up the mess."

Zhou Weijie smiled and pointed to Leng Feng, who was getting out of another pickup truck. "He just buried the rest of the Claymore mines on the way here. They should hold out for a while."

Rosen nodded, then turned to the hostages who had come down: "Those who can drive, get in the driver's seat! Women, sit in the back! The rest of you, sit in the truck bed! You'll need to drive these two small pickup trucks yourselves!"

Seeing the heavy smell of gunpowder and bloodstains on the men, the hostages wisely refrained from offering any objections and obediently climbed into the car as Rosen instructed.

Rosen was very satisfied.

It seems that when their lives are seriously threatened, people of all races and skin colors are quite sensible. There were no bizarre individuals who said things like "I want to sit in the front" or "Why should I sit in the back of the truck?"

But then I thought, if there really were those stubborn and ignorant oddballs, the Iron Army would probably have sent them to meet God long ago, which would be a kind of artificial selection done for nature.

As everyone crowded onto the bus, Zhou Weijie noticed the guy lying behind Rosen. "Who is this? If you're not dead, stand up and get on the bus yourself." He then kicked the corpse.

Rosen took the flashlight from Ma Xiao and shone it on the corpse's face. "You need to help him into the car. How much can this body be worth?"

After Zhou Weijie recognized the body lying on the ground by the light, his face turned ashen. "Damn it, this was my client! You killed him too?"

"There's nothing I can do, you're blocking my way. Be realistic, how much money can you get?"

After a long silence, Zhou Weijie finally said, "He's worth $200 million. You can exchange him at the intelligence department in Uller. Ask your friend in the government army for details; he has connections."

Rosen smiled and patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, saying, "Alright, stop looking so gloomy. Let's split this money among ourselves."

Hearing this, Zhou Weijie's expression immediately improved. He had come out purely to help out, and in the process, he had accidentally killed off his client. If he didn't get a share of the profits, he would be at a huge loss.